Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 153
Nu Zantium burned. The mobile city-fortress rumbled across the landscape on its supporting Capitol Imperialis but the residences above were aflame. In fine apartment complexes lasfire pattered against ornate embellishments, leaving flash-vaporised craters in wood and stone. Overturned carriages between tightly-packed buildings became cover and desperate men and women fired at anything that moved. The thunder of weapons under the massive plates supporting the upper tiers trapped the echoes and made the noise ten times worse, while the underside was lit red by explosions and reflected shots, making it a vision of a fiery underworld.
Nobody grasped what was happening, there was no hint of a coming attack, no warning the Terrans were near. The vox-net just shut down spontaneously and then everyone was shooting. There was no order to this madness, no command given or strategy to it. Like someone flicking a switch the everyday operations of Nu Zantium just changed. Even the twin Imperators standing high above were incommunicado, silently watching the anarchy spreading under their feet.
Nobles ran from their homes only to be gunned down like common street thugs. Toolists and greasemonkeys from the lower levels ran wild in the upper quarters, door mysteriously opened for them, many of them blinking with watering eyes at their first glimpse of sunlight. Adjudicators traded shots with Wardsmen and personal guards, as Reguloram clerks fumbled with laspistols and tried to remember how they worked. The Moirae Schismatics who occupied the most secret places of the city sealed themselves within, protecting their mysteries as bedlam reigned. Where did this violence spring from, who had orchestrated it, there was nobody who could answer those questions save Von Tor.
In the highest levels Disquisitor Von Tor had no time to worry about what was happening in the lower levels. The man was huddling behind a marble statue of some rotund man, flinching every time a stub round blew chips off the girthy frame. Von Tor had traded in his long coat for master-crafted carapace armour and a helmet, but he retained his Xenoslock pistol and power sword. His retinue hung nearby, a hastily assembled collection of mercenaries and disgruntled Wardsmen, all covering behind statues and doorways. They let off occasional shots from lasrifles and Autoguns, but the sheer weight of firepower coming their way was several orders of magnitude greater.
From across the hall Kazial yelled, "...?"
"What?!" Von Tor barked over the noise of the firing.
"...!" Kazial yelled.
"I can't hear you!" Von Tor barked, "Vox is frakked!"
Kazial gritted his teeth, then suddenly was up and running. Stray bullets chased his heels but the gunslinger was fast and had surprise on his side. Nobody would be dumb enough to run into that crapstorm, so the distant shooters gawped for a second before adjusting their aim. A hail of stub rounds swept the width of the corridor but Kazial dove into cover beside the Disquisitor, gasping for air.
"I do not want to try that again!" Kazial gulped.
"We might have to," Von Tor grimaced.
"As I was saying: where the frak is Vorshaan?!"
"Busy on the lower levels," Von Tor growled.
"He should be here!"
"Never count on a Night Lord, we'll have to take the Senatorial dome ourselves!"
Von Tor had spent several days gathering allies among the Disquisition and other institutions, disgruntled veterans and ambitious up-and-comers. They'd agreed to back his plans and support his coup, every support imaginable, short of actual help. With no other recourse Von Tor had called in Vorshaan and the Chaos warlord had sent word when to make his move. Von Tor had no idea how the Chaos Marines had infiltrated Nu Zantium but the sudden and total collapse of civic order had all the hallmarks of Vorshaan's schemes. Sadly he had failed to turn up to storm the highest level, leaving Von Tor's small strike force to carry the attack alone.
"I hate to lose this," Von Tor muttered as he pulled a ring from his finger.
"That your Displacer?" Kazial blinked.
"That's the one," Von Tor lamented, "But needs must when Horus drives."
"This gonna be big?"
"Very big, on my mark everyone... go!"
Von Tor ducked out of cover and threw the ring as far down the corridor as he could. The tiny object sailed far, covering an impressive distance towards the dug-in enemy, then the microscopic power core overloaded. A Jokero made Displacer ring, it could teleport a man away from danger in times of peril. Von Tor had widened the field to carry two on occasions but now he had pushed it far beyond even that. The Displacer field encompassed the whole corridor, building a wall of light across the passageway. Bullets sailed into that field and were teleported away, reappearing at random across the upper levels, smashing windows and breaking vases and killing one unfortunate chambermaid who never saw it coming.
Von Tor was running as fast as his legs could carry him. The protective wall burned bright ahead, but its effect couldn't last more than a second or two. The ring would burn out, leaving their cover useless. Sure enough the flaring corona winked out a moment later, he could only trust it had lasted long enough. Beyond the effect a line of Adjudicators lurked behind a row of riot shields, blocking a wide doorway. That the Lexmen had beaten Von Tor to the Senate dome spoke of long laid plans, rehearsed many times. Furix must have expected such a move sooner or later by someone, but Von Tor's priority was to get past them.
Autoguns and shotguns poked from the riot shields but the real threat was a Heavy Stubber on a tripod. The gunner was shaking his helmet to clear his eyes, but in a moment would find his aim. Kazial beat him to it, a Banestrike round hit the metal grille shielding the man and punched through with ease, peppering the man's face and arms with shrapnel, sending him flying backwards in a spray of blood. Less disciplined troops would have panicked but the Lexmen were hard and stood their ground, opening fire on the charging retinue.
Von Tor felt bullets clip his Carapace armour, sharp stings betraying hits. He ignored the pain as he charged onwards, though a few of his Retinue went down to the hail of bullets. The waiting shotguns were a sterner challenge, but Von Tor lifted his Xenoslock pistol and put a purple ray through a riot shield, boring through the man behind. Kazial took out two more with precise hits, then the fight became fast and ragged.
Von Tor hit the line with a swing of his power sword, cleaving a riot shield in twain and bisecting the Lexman behind. He was surprised at how easily the blade parted flesh and plasteel, his arm barely slowed by the jolt, the edge of his sword neatly cutting through all opposition. He'd been fighting Frater Templars and Xenos abominations for so long that mere Adjudicators seemed a trifle. Still they weren't ready to give up and pulled out their clunky machetes of office, meeting the Disquistor's men blade-to-blade.
Von Tor found himself locked in the hack and thrust of melee, the crush of bodies pressing in from all sides. He could not swing his sword in such tight confines and was forced to stab with the point, sliding his blade under an arm to pierce a man's heart. A woman came at him from the flank thrusting for his belly, Von Tor was driven back by the blow but his carapace saved him, reducing it to a mere flesh wound. The fat blade caught on his plate and stuck fast, leaving the woman's mouth gawping under her helmet's single visor slit. Von Tor put an end to her stupefaction by ramming his sword through her head, then whipping it out again. She collapsed, leaving her machete stuck to his plate, but Von Tor was fully engaged.
The Disquisitor drove into the melee, reaping lives with gusto. His blade made short work of armour and his fine Carapace shrugged off the Machetes of the Lexmen. He cut a grizzled veteran down with a quick thrust, ended the life of a junior barely able to shave yet with a hack to the neck and smashed a burly woman to the ground with a backhanded strike from his hilt. He was exhilarated by the rush, the superiority of his weapons and armour proving unmatchable by those fitted out for riot control. The Disquisitor had never favoured open war before, now he wondered why he had avoided direct fights. Was this how Astartes felt whilst moving among mortal soldiers, no wonder they were all so legendarily arrogant.
In a minute they had cut down the Adjudicators, leaving them oozing on the polished floor. Von Tor's retinue was down to three men, damned few to confront the Ur-Council, but he had to be bold and try anyway. They'd come too far to back out now. Kazial rubbed blood off his coat as the other two checked the survivors, putting las-shot into the heads of any Lexmen still breathing.
"You're bleeding," Kazial pointed out.
"I don't have time to bleed," Von Tor dismissed.
"That's a big knife stuck to you."
"Just a flesh wound, the Carapace held it off," Von Tor muttered as he pulled the Machete free and let it drop, "We have to keep moving, follow me."
"Right behind you boss," Kazial affirmed.
The Disquisitor led them on, heading for the Senate's auditorium. He knew these passages well and hastened his clip, hurrying past marble busts and fine paintings. The sun streaming through the windows was tainted with dark soot and the sound of rioting below carried even here. Still his focus was on the task at hand, so when another knot of Lexman came charging out an open door he was not surprised.
Von Tor dropped to one knee and shot the leading Adjudicator, boring through a stern-faced woman's heart. She fell with a surprised 'O' on her lips, but the rest of her squad opened fire. Kazial took a hit and went down, but the other mercenaries returned fire. Von Tor put down another Lexman and another, but then they were surprised in turn by an attack from behind. A savage snarl of dark fury and a giant apparition was among them. Midnight-clad, wings snapping and Chainglaive purring Vorshaan appeared from nowhere, making a tapestry of horror.
Von Tor had seen Space Marines in action before and been struck by their speed and power, but he'd never appreciated their ferocity. Vorshaan went through men and women like a threshing machine, leaving a trail of dismembered body parts in his wake. His form was stunning, his precision inhuman, every blow a killing stroke, every gesture deadly. The Dusk Prince lashed out in a frenzy of murderlust, yet he was controlled and efficient, no wild rampage of the berserker, no futile waste of effort in gory displays. He took a dozen Adjudicators apart in seconds, then planted his stave in the growing pile of blood.
"You're late," Von Tor muttered as he stood up.
"I thought you could handle yourself, I was wrong," Vorshaan sneered.
"Your troops are here?"
"Amusing themselves below," Vorshaan chuckled, "Don't worry, they'll leave the city's infrastructure intact... mostly."
"That wasn't my worry, but time is against us. The Ur-Council's chamber is ahead, we must take it before reinforcements arrive."
"Lead on, oh wise prince of Novans," Vorshaan sarcastically offered.
Von Tor narrowed his eyes but stepped forth. He and Kazial shared a look, the gunslinger reloading his pistols with a what-can-you-do shrug. Von Tor was annoyed but his goal was in sight and the salvation of Nova Terra awaited. What was follow would be hard, he knew it could be no other way, but the Disquisitor's will was Adamantium and he would not be swayed from his course. The Ur-Council would bow to his demands, or he would remove their heads one by one till they did.