Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 78
Aapo swopped the clip in his bolt pistol, slotting the weighty magazine home with a clunk. The last reload in his belt pouches, all others exhausted. Furious fighting had seen the Smoke Jaguars carve a path through the fortress, destroying any who dared stand in their way. All of them bore the signs of vicious close-quarter combat, their plates scored bare in places, but the trio had finally reached the lowest level, where they expected the Bronze Beast to be lurking.
Takana dropped the corpse of the last guard before the wide doors and strode through, Hanphu and Aapo a step behind. A large cavern awaited them, the roof filled with cooling mechanisms and air exchangers, all to service the strange archeotech within. Aapo paused as he spied rows of upright tubes, containing strange blue fluids and indistinct forms. Hundreds of them in perfect lines, connected by power cables and pumping mechanisms. At the far end of the cavern a section was curtained off by Plastek sheeting suspended from thin poles. The strangeness of the sight made Aapo puzzle, he could not discern the purpose of this place. He had expected a throne room, an armoury or a mausoleum of exotic trophies. This was not what he had expected of a Thunder Warrior.
"What manner of lair is this?" Aapo hissed as he stared in puzzlement.
"Some form of gene-forge," Hanphu replied, "Gestation chambers, of a type I am not familiar with."
Aapo gulped, "He's making more Thunder warriors?"
"Too small," Hanphu dismissed, "Mortal-framed, why bother though, mortals breed like roaches."
"Silence your tongues!" Takana hissed, "Be wary and sharp of eye, our heads are in the Carnodon's mouth."
Aapo gripped his Obsidian Blade tight and kept his bolt pistol raised as they advanced. Hanphu covered the right with his Multi-las and Takana took the lead. Into the orderly forest of metal they strode, senses straining for the slightest hint of Methuselah's presence. Aapo eyed the tank strapped to Hanphu's rear, their secret weapon, promising swift victory. He nudged the rebreather on his belt with his elbow, he'd need it soon enough.
A sharp hiss from K'oy brought all eyes whipping about, but there was no foe to be seen. A moment passed before his eyes noted fresh stains on the floor, dark of hue and iron-rich in scent. Blood, a lake of it, spreading around the base of the tubes. The epicentre was the screened-off section and the trio advanced, expecting to be confronted at any moment but they passed through the Plastek sheets without challenge. Beyond lay a surgical suite, rows of med-slabs aid out with numerous bodies left to cool. They had all been cut open, dried blood thick on the floor, their innards betraying signs of surgical extraction and one of them was the Pariah woman Aapo had struck previously.
"Murder most foul," Takana growled.
"The Bronze Beast slaughters his own?" Aapo gulped.
"Madness abounds," the Dark Fury concluded.
But Hanphu glanced into an opened chest "Nothing so easy, this is precise work. No torture for its own sake but considered labour. Whatever our foe did to these wretches was done with deliberation and purpose."
"What purpose…"
Aapo didn't get to finish his question for suddenly Methuselah was there. A suggestion of movement beyond the Plastek curtains and then the Bronze Beast was charging through. A Legiones Cataegis in motion was a terrifying thing indeed, a force of nature unbound. His armoured legs struck like the thunder of the gods, his claw crackled with the caged lightning of Olympus and his breastplate shone like the first gleanings of dawn. His helmet was fixed tight, the plume fluttering behind and his jaw was exposed to reveal a snarl of purest hatred.
Had the Smoke Jaguars been mortal they would have died in the first rush, but the merest hint of shadow on the curtains saw them throw themselves aside. Aapo barely missed having his head removed by a flashing claw but was caught by a knee that sent him tumbling away. He crashed into a trolley of surgical tools and sent it clattering to the floor, spilling scalpels, clamps and rib-spreaders everywhere. The impact shook him to the core, the raw power of a Thunder Warrior eclipsing a Space Marine utterly, especially a youth like him.
Aapo rolled over disordered tools and saw Takana duelling Methuselah. Vicious swipes and deadly thrusts were countered, sharp evasions followed by bullish charges and brutal strikes. Methuselah was stronger and faster by far, but he had only one claw. Takana had two, and he had learned much from their previous encounter. No longer did he try to overpower with raw strength, or meet aggression with aggression, instead he wove a web of deflections and feints, giving up many chances to strike for the hearts in favour of prolonging the duel.
Aapo realised his comrade was playing for time, distracting the Bronze Beast so others could act. Aapo cast his eyes about and saw Hanphu in the corner, hurriedly setting up their tox-bomb. K'oy bounced up and down on his shoulder, but the Magpyr was not distracted, his hands quickly working the nozzles. He needed a second more to finish his labour, but the Dark Fury was in trouble. Takana ducked a crackling strike from the claw, only to find the other hand grabbing his wing. The metallic plumage attached to his backpack blurred as he moved, but Methuselah saw everything. A scarred fist ensnared razor-sharp pinions, his arm heaved and Takana was thrown bodily from the surgery, Plastek sheeting wrapped around him like a comet.
Aapo reacted instantly, charging Methuselah headlong. The Thunder Warrior heard him coming and spun about so fast he appeared to blink from one position to the other. The claw was already reaching out to end the Doan, but Aapo dove low, passing safely under the strike. It was an inelegant move, he could reach neither the femoral artery nor hamstring from this angle, but he stabbed his blade into a boot and drew blood, spearing the foot through before he rolled away.
Methuselah barely felt the blow but the loss of stability caused the Thunder Warrior to stagger, momentarily disabled. Aapo rolled to his knees and then he heard it, the hiss of a gas nozzle venting. He stopped his breathing while he grabbed the rebreather, slamming it to his face so hard his nose hit the flat interior. The rubber mask was small for his face but he clung to it desperately, sucking air through the filters, trusting it to keep him alive. A moment later a spreading cloud of toxic gas washed over him, filling the air with poison.
Aapo's skin began to itch furiously, the exposed parts becoming red and blistered. His neck was a pincushion, his ears were cactus plants and his arms covered in sandpaper. Welts formed and popped in seconds, making him wish to rip the mask away and fall to the ground scratching like a madman. He resisted, bad as it was on his skin the effects on his lungs would be far more deadly. He could trust the assorted Gene-implants he had already received to manage contact absorption, but even he could not breathe this evil miasma and live. Instead he squinted through the small eye-glasses, wanting to watch Methuselah die.
The Thunder Warrior stood upright among the med-slabs, frozen to immobility. The skin around his mouth was red raw, lips cracking as dead flakes fell away. Blisters formed and popped like the surface of a boiling pot of water, and his gorget was wet with blood droplets. No sealed helmet had he, no vacuum-proofed suit of armour, his face was exposed, lungs filling with Hydrogen Cyanide. He was breathing it in, enough poison to kill a Squiggoth, and yet to Aapo's utter horror the Bronze Beast did not fall.
Methuselah took a deep breath and sneered, "That was your grand plan, to poison me?"
Hanphu stood up and his sealed helmet uttered, "You live, impossible!"
"Did you truly believe I had not upgraded my body to resist such trifling dangers?! I have had centuries to improve the design of the Legiones Cataegis, I long ago engineered my own Multi-lung."
"But… but…" Hanphu whispered.
"First let's get rid of this muck, then I shall dispose of you."
Fans high above went to work, sucking Hydrogen Cyanide from the air and replacing it with clean oxygen. Aapo dared not remove his rebreather, not till he was sure it was safe, so all he could do was watch the next seconds play out. Hanphu levelled his Multi-las, focus coils glowing ready to discharge. Methuselah didn't give him the chance, he hurtled across the distance, lightning claw a bolt of divine judgement. One sweep and the weapon came apart, pieces of it raining on Hanphu's boots. The other hand shot out and wrapped itself around his neck, squeezing hard, crushing the windpipe with inexorable force. Hanphu would have died then, but K'oy came to his aid. The cyber-simian went for Methuselah's blistered face, claws cutting flesh as it attacked in a flurry of slashing metal.
Methuselah snarled in annoyance as he snatched the offending irritant away and hurled it from him, only to find Aapo tackling him from behind. No matter the danger to his lungs, no matter if it cost him his life, the Illchosen would not sit idle and watch his Kinsman die. He cast aside his Rebreather and dove in, driving his Obsidian Blade into the back, aiming for the spinal cord. His aim was off, he drove his knife deep but hit nothing vital, only to find the back of his armour caught by a meaty hand, to be hurled bodily through the sheeting.
Aapo struck the ground hard and sucked in a breath of air. His lungs itched furiously at the lingering toxic cloud, but either it had dissipated enough not to be lethal or his implants could manage the reduced levels. His lungs felt like sandpaper but he lived, and could fight. He snatched up his weapons and rolled to his feet, finding Takana rising, casting off the trailing Plastek clinging to his wings. Together the pair tensed to return to the fray, only to see a sight that made them freeze in disbelief.
Methuselah strode into the wider chamber, claw held low and Hanphu dangling from his other hand. The Magpyr's legs were missing, struck clean from his body. Trailing blood oozed from the stumps, as his genhanced frame sought to stem the bleeding. Still his arms grappled with the foe, tearing at the armoured elbow but making no impression. The Magpyr was pinned in the heart-foe's grip, unable to free himself.
Methuselah sneered, "What's the saying… go for the legs?"
"The Magpyr can fight without feet," Hanphu spat, "No matter that I cannot stand, I shall gnaw upon your toes!"
"You will die for this!" Takana snarled as he brandished his claws.
"Arms, feet, ears… so timid you are," the Bronze Beast chuckled, "Let me show you how the Thunder Warriors fought: first we go for the heart!"
"Don't!" Aapo yelled in denial but was too far away to intervene. Methuselah struck upwards, driving all four tips of his lightning claw into Hanphu's chest. Ceramite shattered at the impact, a fused ribcage proved no impediment and the organs were skewered clean through. Disruption fields flared, incinerating hearts and lungs, liver and spleen, burning Hanphu's innards to ash in an instant. He jerked back, face thrown to the heavens as if wishing to behold stars as his life was taken. So the Magpyr passed into legend, his life-saga of merry craziness ending on a most bitter note.
"Hanphu no!" Aapo yelled as his guts turned to ice.
Methuselah pulled bleeding lips back over his teeth and growled, "So weak, I am disappointed. I hope you two last longer, I want you to experience utter futility before I kill you. "