Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 62
The lowest level of Sonyhu city was also the richest, a ring of opulent villas and mansions, pressed further back from the polluted sky than the slums above. Fabulous homes with encircling walls, and rare off-world plants forming small but lavish gardens. Lumen poles were plentiful at this level, bringing illumination slightly above the twilight existence that passed for daytime on this moon. Guards roamed the grounds and patrolled the walls, but not one of them detected Aapo as he climbed the mansion's exterior.
A large garage door offered a way inside, but first the way must be secured. Aapo's task was to splice the houses' data-cables, infiltrating the Machine Spirits and bewitching the comm-lines. Aapo was far from the most experienced but Takana's Shadow-path was blinding and Hanphu's stealth was poor, though what Smoke Jaguars considered sub-standard was still expert by most measures. Xavaar claimed to be busy distracting minds with his sorcery, so that left Aapo to break into the security.
He completed fiddling with a data-junction box and climbed down a smooth wall, reaching the ground undetected. He saw no guards and checked his preparations one last time, then scurried away. His tread was light and his speed remarkable, but even over open ground he risked being spotted. Xavaar had claimed he would turn the guard's eyes away, Aapo could only trust the Shade-seer was as skilled as he claimed.
Under an archway formed of flowering vines he found his comrades, three giants in Ceramite, somehow mere suggestions of shadow in greater patches of darkness. Shadow-path or not, the sons of Corax owned the night. Aapo skidded in among them and tapped his vambrace thrice as confirmation. Xavaar nodded and gripped his staff tight, raising it before him. Aapo took out a bolt pistol and Obsidian Blade, the time for stealth was at an end, the time for the Jaguars to roar had come at last.
A terrible scream arose from the white-walled mansion, a woman's voice lifted in terror. Another and another, then the frantic shouting of men and the snap-hiss of Lascarbines. Xavaar's nightmarish illusions were loosed among the inhabitants of the house, and raw panic set in. Surely alarms were singing already, but Aapo's handiwork had cast a spell of silence over the Machine Spirits. Their bleating would reach no outsiders, and the distance between houses would make the screaming faint to neighbouring ears.
Aapo tensed as the garage door rolled up, the defenders reacting to the terror as they had been trained. Numerous engine growls echoed from within, then six fast-moving ATV's came storming out. Quad-4's, a light vehicle common across the Boscage. Racing on four thick tyres, they were fast, responsive and easy to build. Alar-Median had never produced the Sentinel pattern walker, so worlds across the Boscage had turned to the Quad-4 as their primary reconnaissance unit. Though even lighter in armour they were nimble and armed with a Heavy bolter operated by a passenger gunner. The Quad-4 had proven itself against Orruk Speed Freaks many times, but the Smoke Jaguars had been expecting this response.
The first driver tore out of the garage at top speed, running straight into the monofilament wire Aapo had strung between the walls. The driver had his head removed before he even saw the glimmer of the wire, and his gunner was trepanned from brow to ear. The Quad-4 veered wildly, steering straight into a white wall and folding itself into a heap of jagged plasteel and mangled bodies. The Quad-4 behind swerved left, but too late, the driver was lacerated across his right side, leaving his head attached by a thread and his driver lost a leg as he tried to leap clear. The third Quad-4 swung hard, and crashed straight into the next ATV, smashing them both into a tangled heap that the next ATV slammed into before the driver could see what was occurring.
Aapo was already running, arms pumping as he made for the open door. Xavaar was beside him, as was Takana, the trio hurtling for the opening. The last Quad-4 appeared, nosing around the burning wreckage of its comrades as the gunner levelled a Heavy Bolter. A spray of las put paid to that, Hanphu's shots punching through light armour as easily as flesh. A torrent of Multi-las shots peppered the ATV, killing both guards before they could let off a shot.
Aapo dived under the monofilament wire, followed by Xavaar. Takana took a more direct route, his wings spreading wide, turbine howling as he shot upwards, scaling three stories in a single bound. Lightning claws flared as he crashed through a tall window, and then the killing began in earnest. Aapo had no time to wonder how the Dark Fury fared as he dove into the garage, followed by Xavaar and even further back Hanphu.
"This way!" Xavaar yelled as he ran for an open door.
"Where is our prey?" Aapo cried as he gave chase.
"I saw the route in the memories I stole, there's a passage that should avoid resistance."
Xavaar smashed a wooden door into splinters as he drove through, finding a switchback stair. The Shade-seer set a furious pace, leaving Aapo struggling to keep up with the speed boost power armour provided. He set his teeth and redoubled his efforts, sinews straining as he ascended. Twin hearts were thundering in his ears, his breath was wet with exertion and still Xavaar outpaced him. Five stories up and Aapo had lost sight of his master, but he heard a crash and then the sounds of shooting rang loud.
Aapo flew up the last turn and dove through a shattered doorway, finding himself in a grand dining hall. A large table was set for many guests and ornate chandeliers hung above, while a fire roared in a hearth. All of this was secondary however to the battle raging within, a score of men trying to bring the Shade-Seer down. Xavaar was beset by men trying to stab him with bayonets, but his armour held, while his staff roared with Transonic power as he shattered skulls and stove in chests. Unfortunately more guards were pouring through a far door, odds even an Astartes couldn't beat.
Aapo's hand came up and his finger squeezed the trigger. His bolt pistol roared, sending spinning mass-reactives into the closing crowd. The leading man staggered back with a crater blown into his chest, a moment later he came apart, guts exploding across his comrades along with wet ribbons that once were a rubber coat. The mob stubbled in horror, then the next man came apart, and the next. Aapo emptied his clip into the tightly packed foes, no thought given to innocence or guilt. These men had turned their hands against the Smoke Jaguars and so their slaughter was righteous.
When his pistol ran dry a half-dozen foes yet stood, dazed but not stunned. He had no time to reload so slammed his pistol to his hip and leapt at them screaming, "Death has come for you!" The guards reacted quickly but Aapo was Transhuman. He smashed the first over with his shoulder and crushed the neck with a stomp, while simultaneously driving his Obsidian blade into the heart of the next. The blade sang as it found the perfect frequency to penetrate bone and sank up to the hilt, making the guard freeze. The light in his eyes faded slowly, and Aapo saw the lifeforce flee the cage of his body. The moment of distraction almost cost him his arm. A flash in the corner of his eye revealed a guard trying to chop his elbow through with the bayonet of a lascarbine. Aapo was forced to let go of his knife, lest he lose the limb and threw himself backwards to avoid another stab for his spine. He was facing four men, intent on ending his life, and he was unarmed. This was most definitely not the First Axiom of Victory.
Aapo backpedalled as the men came after him, bayonets thrusting hard. His rear hit the wooden table and he rolled back, bringing both boots up and out to catch the nearest pair of guards and send them stumbling backwards. With a moment's grace he rolled to his feet, standing atop the table, with a carving knife in his hand that he had snatched from a place setting.
The four guards hung back, grinning under pot helms as they raised their lascarbines and took aim. Aapo was faster, his arm blurred as he threw the knife. He did not aim for them, but off to one side, his target was the thick hawser that held aloft a chandelier. Transhuman strength gifted the knife the cutting power of a buzzsaw and it cleaved the rope, allowing the gaudy ornament to drop.
One guard was right underneath when it hit, crushed under its weight and stabbed a thousand times over. Glassic shattered, pelting the other three with splinters. They screamed as their faces were shredded, throwing up their arms to protect bleeding eyes. Aapo felt glass slicing the skin of his face but he was already attacking. He leapt from the table and grabbed a heavy chair, swinging it about as a cudgel. A guard was struck in the back and his bones were pulverised by the force of impact, making him collapse as a sack of broken twigs.
The other guards tried to rally, coming at him with bayonets going high and low, but their bleeding eyes impaired their aim. Aapo sidestepped and grabbed a lascarbine by the stock, a twist of his arm and the thrust was redirected, making the man stab his own comrade in the flank. The last guard gasped as he saw what he had done, but then Aapo's hand was around his throat, squeezing tight. Aapo held the filth aloft, rushing blood thundering in his ears. He bled from glassic cuts, but his outrage was deeper. Swift death was too kind for one such as this. He had drawn the blood of a Smoke Jaguar, and that could not be tolerated.
Aapo turned on his heel, took three steps and then threw the guard into the fireplace. The man screamed in agony, flailing wildly as he burned alive. He desperately tried to escape but Aapo's boot sent him collapsing backwards, trapped in hellish torment no man should ever experience. The guard flailed, arms and legs blazing torches as skin melted and his eyeballs boiled. How many seconds it took him to die Aapo could not guess, but he savoured every one of them. The universe was so much cleaner now, he had set it straight by the strength of his own hand, and the sense of righteous power it granted him was heady beyond measure.
A hollow clapping sound brought him back. He turned to find Xavaar standing amid a mound of broken bodies, armour painted lurid shades of blood. He was not the one clapping however, that was a hunchbacked giant, calmly applauding their feats with scarred hands. For the first time Aapo gazed upon a Transhuman not of his Chapter and felt loathing burn hot. Traitor, outcast, betrayer of the Sun-Emperor, these curses rose in his throat, but were stayed by the fact he was transparent. This enemy was nothing but a Hololithic projection, sent from far, far away.
"Well done!" he spake, "A magnificent display of savagery. I applaud your bloodlust!"
"Bronze Beast," Xavaar growled, "Where are you?!"
"Not here, and you may as well call me Methuselah. I have waited a long time to meet you Xavaar. It took you a while to catch up, but then your legion always had a myopic view of the universe."
Xavaar levelled his staff, "What breed are you? I scent the cunning of the XXth, the bitterness of the IVth, and the spite of XVIth about you. Name your gene-father and own your treachery!"
Methuselah grinned, "How narrow your perception is. You will learn the truth in time, but first I wanted to speak face to face... well not in person obviously, then I would have to kill you."
Xavaar growled, "Your flayed skin will fly as a banner from the Black Ziggurat, this I promise."
Methuselah grinned, "Truly your father's son, but I had no idea you had bred such vindictiveness into your mongrels. Your protégé displayed a fine streak of cruelty, such pleasure in his eyes when he burned my guard alive. I judged your kind to be plodding, obedient dullards, but this one has a vicious streak that mirrors my younger days. Perhaps I misjudged you, there may be some merit in keeping your breed as pets. Bow at my feet and I will allow you to serve me."
Xavaar spat, "I offer you no fealty save the promise of extinction!"
"Reconsider and I will offer you Engar's life," Methuselah retorted.
"Engar lives?!"
"For now, I find his wailing amusing, but not for much longer. Swear fealty to the Bronze Beast, or he dies."
"I will find you and end you... painfully," Xavaar snarled.
"Fool, I own this moon, every soul is mine, to do with as I see fit. You will learn this truth; you are here and so too are you mine."
"Save your boasting, it will not save you," Xavaar hissed.
"Predictable as ever," Methuselah grinned, "I will see you soon, and then you will understand your place in the order of things."
The Hololith faded, leaving Xavaar fuming, Aapo however was sickened. The accusations had struck to the heart of him. He looked at his hands and wondered what had come over him. He had chosen to kill the last guard in the most painful way possible, when he could have broken the neck with a twitch of his fingers. Some debased impulse from the depths of his soul had taken hold and seduced him to take pleasure from his enemy's suffering. He'd enjoyed it, he'd revelled in the torment of another and the sense of power it bestowed. Many Orruk had he culled but never like this, never with such malice. Aapo felt sick as he was forced to confront the truth that the Dark One's grip on his soul was tighter than he ever suspected.