Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 72
Next go for the feet. It was written in the Testimony that mobility is essential for success. Whether it be an individual in battle, or a culture transporting materials, freedom of movement is as important as the wind in the lungs. Thus its removal would cripple any possible response, making offence and defence impossible. The resulting distress extended far beyond physical impediment, an individual robbed of their feet would be left sobbing, a culture would implode as citizens panicked in the streets. Take your enemy's feet and they will collapse into incoherent panic, thus it was written, thus shall it be.
Aapo examined the bridge from afar, a mighty structure of thick hawsers and dense Ferrocrete. The Smoke Jaguars had driven over it upon their arrival, but it hadn't looked so impressive from the seat of a Rhino. Staring up at its mighty columns made plain the strength of its pillars and the robustness of its many cables. Aapo had a sack of Transonic mines across his shoulders but he doubted they would make a dent.
"We are as ants gnawing the root of the Everrose tree," Aapo breathed.
"It's not that big," Hanphu chuckled.
"Have you seen those pillars?!" Aapo scoffed.
Takana cut in, "The first falling pebble is small but the landslide sweeps away all."
Hanphu agreed, "He's got the way of it. A few well-placed mines will bring that bridge down, it's just a matter of getting them into the right positions."
The Smoke Jaguars set off, climbing down the sheer side of the ravine. They had left Spectre of Woe some way back and proceeded on foot, this allowed them to close undetected but also meant they had to move laterally along the rockface for some distance. Aapo clung to the cracks and protrusions in the wall, trying not to look down into the gaping abyss beneath his feet. He still wasn't sure if there was a city down there, but he was certain nothing that fell would survive.
To distract himself he watched a PDF convoy trundling across the bridge, numerous Chimeras and Quad-4s, racing from Sonyhu city towards the distant spaceport. Exhaust hung heavy in the air and the echoes of engines rang loud in the ravine, making Aapo's lungs tremble. The convoy took a long time to pass, several thousand troopers worth at least, it seemed the Smoke Jaguar's recent activities had stirred a considerable response.
"Seems excessive," Aapo grunted as he heaved himself over a bulging rock.
"Xilbalba is aflame with panic," Hanphu said as he steered his power armoured bulk over the rock.
"Fools speak loudly of that which they know nothing," Takana snorted as he moved adroitly around the rock.
Hanphu however corrected, "K'oy hears the vox-waves sing with terror. The people are convinced Orruks fall upon their moon in great numbers. Talk of armies massing in the wastelands, vast hordes of Greenskins marching on the sinkholes. Riots swell in many cities, the PDF has been deployed to suppress them, but they receive conflicting orders. King Denshu demands his armies march to meet the Orruk in the field, while his people tear down the gates of the rich and loot all they can."
Aapo frowned, "All that from a few covert raids?"
Hanphu sniffed, "Men are flighty and unreliable in most things."
"But between us we've killed less than a hundred souls, barely a pinprick, and the whole moon explodes into anarchy?"
Takana snorted, "It is written: Kill a thousand men and they will hate you. Kill a million men and they will queue to face you. But kill a single man and they will see monsters and devils in every shadow. Kill a dozen men and they will scream and wail in the night, and they shall feel not hatred, but fear."
Aapo was confused, "Written where, I don't recall that in the Testimony."
Takana switched tongues, "Something Xavaar once said."
A suspicion formed, "And where did he learn that lesson?"
"Do not ask questions to which you do not want the answer."
Aapo was forced to accept that the quote had come from his other gene-father, the hated and damnable Konrad Curze. He loathed that the Night Haunter had a claim on his blood, but then their recent actions had been entirely from the Dark One's teachings. The Smoke Jaguars had tried the Raven Guard way and found it wanting, now they followed the path of the Night Lords, and it was proving effective. Xilbalba was in uproar, Methuselah's armies were locked in a struggle they did not understand, and soon they would find their troubles multiplying.
Aapo wondered how long Takana had known the truth. The reason for the rift between Dark Fury and Skinned Man was self-evident, revelation driving a wedge between them. Had Xavaar needed to unburden himself, or had Takana found it out on his own and demanded the truth. Aapo didn't dare ask, it was not his place to ask such things. When Hanphu found out was irrelevant, the brain-damaged buffoon probably didn't remember anyway. Aapo wondered who else knew: the order of Headsman, the living-dead in their Dreadnought shells, Shade-Lord Palanque First of Firsts. Aapo might never learn these answers.
Further speculation was cut short as they reached the foundations of the bridge. A Ferrocrete pillar thicker than a gunship was long. Aapo gripped its rough surface as he heaved himself up, pushing away from the rockface to inch out over a dizzying drop. Inch by inch he climbed the support, moving at forty-five degrees over the bottomless abyss. His palms itched furiously and his belly clenched in dread but he was more bothered by the wind. He had not accounted for the gale rising from the depths, trying to tear him from his perch. He flattened himself against the foundation but kept going, refusing to stop. Fear tingled along every nerve but he did not succumb. The rush of terror lent him speed, forcing him to move faster, never letting him be still. Fear was his ally, fear was his weapon to wield, he repeated over and over in his mind.
The terrifying climb lasted an eternity but soon they reached the undercroft of the roadway. A maze of flexing supports and motile bindings was nestled under the road's surface, keeping it stable. The wind was the bridges' greatest enemy, liable to cause resonant waves to travel its length and rip it to pieces. Mankind had long since mastered such natural forces and the bridge was able to move with the wind and dissipate the contortions safely. The Smoke Jaguars intended to interfere with that process and let the consequence lead to catastrophe, like dropping a small spanner into a large engine.
The trio split up, moving along the bridge's length. Aapo paused every ten metres, taking out Transonic mines and fixing them to the key points of the flexing supports. He moved quickly, the drop calling to let go and fall for an eternity. He ignored the primal impulse, focusing on his work. Hand over hand, feet placed on trembling beams that shivered like branches swaying in the breeze. Aapo moved with care but soon his supply of mines dwindled and he was nearly done.
As he was fixing the last mine a Megatanker drove over the bridge. Aapo clung on for dear life as the supports shook violently, their lengths trembling at the immense weight passing a few metres over his head. Aapo's bones rattled as he held tight, his feet skidding off slick metal to dangle over nothingness. The urge to let go was keener than ever but he held fast, though his teeth threatened to shake out of his jaw. Surely the bridge must snap any second, so bad was the shaking, but in moments it faded as the Megatanker drove off. Aapo set his feet down and cursed himself for a fool, such a weight wouldn't trouble the bridge, it must handle stresses a thousand times worse on a daily basis. He'd been worried over nothing, only he hadn't.
"Who goes there?!" a gruff challenge arose. Aapo glanced about and saw an Enginseer's inspection cradle suspended just off the roadway, a short figure atop squinting into the gloomy undercroft. Some maintenance worker, Aapo judged, conducting routine blessings of the Machine Spirits. Not a trooper, no gun was visible but more than enough to raise an alarm. Aapo had to think fast, the worker couldn't have seen out in the gloom, but he had picked out something. How good were his ears, was he deafened by passing traffic, could he tell Transhuman voices from mortal? Aapo was about to find out.
Aapo pitched his voice higher and called out, "We're doing official work."
"I didn't hear anything about maintenance on the undercroft today."
"It's… it's PDF orders," Aapo ventured.
"PDF, what are you playing at poking at my bridge?"
Aapo dredged the depths of memory for all he knew of mortal conversations, everything he had overheard and remembered from childhood, and declared, "None of your Frakking business!"
"I was only asking."
"Frak off!" Aapo spat.
"As you will," the worker sniffed, "I was only doing my job. Must be top secret, what with Orruks everywhere."
The worker pulled a lever and the cradle rose out of sight. Aapo breathed a sigh of relief and began his withdrawal, moving from support to support as he headed back to the foundation pillar. Slowly he transferred his weight to the Ferrocrete surface and slid down it, fatigues tearing over his knees as the rough surface wore at them. At the bottom he found the Dark Fury and Magpyr waiting, silent and still as stone. Reunited the trio set off, moving along the cliff face towards Spectre of Woe. Halfway there an immense rumble echoed, signalling traffic crossing the bridge. Aapo glanced behind, another PDF convoy, led by a Leman Russ tank.
"They're coming," Aapo gulped.
"Hurry!" Hanphu urged.
"No, this is even better, set it off now," Takana commanded.
"You want to… oh that's good," Hanphu chuckled as he sent the vox-signal.
Aapo clung to the rockface as he turned his eyes back to the bridge. A series of flashes below the road revealed where Transonic mines were blowing out supports, small puffs of metallic flak blowing away into the wind. The convoy above didn't notice, the detonations a mere tremor compared to the vibration of their engines, but they certainly noticed when the road heaved under them. A gale-force wind caught the edge of the road and sent one side bulging upwards, contorting the surface like a snake whipping across sand. Archeotech mechanisms that should compensate had been crippled and a sine wave flowed down the length of the bridge, undulating as it was never meant to. The noises were eye-watering, the groan of Ferrocrete and metal moving made bowel-loosening by the knowledge of what it heralded.
The Leman Russ at the front skidded sideways, squealing tracks sending chips everywhere. The convoy behind was consumed by bedlam, Chimeras and Quad-4s veering wildly. They crashed into each other and caused an instant traffic jam, many of the smaller vehicles were crushed as heavier machines slammed into them. The bridge bucked again, another wave rolling along its length, throwing machines into the air and bringing them back down again in violent pile-ups. Screams arose as crews bailed out, running for their lives but the oscillating of the road hurled them off of their feet. They could not run, and every second threatened to see them fall into the abyss.
The vibrations were building exponentially, causing the road to rock from side to side as hawsers screamed from stress. Men clung to each other in terror as the sky and the drop kept changing places, hundreds of them rolling helplessly about, to be crushed as Chimera skidded out of control. The Leman Russ' tracks spun as it tried to right itself but its rear crashed through the safety barrier and it began sliding backwards. The crew tried to jump clear but the lack of escape hatches cost them dear. The tank lent too far and fell into the abyss, taking its wailing crew to certain death.
Another wave rolled up the length of the road and this was finally too much. With a peal of metallic agony the surface split apart, shattered sections swaying of unravelling hawsers. Screaming men fell through the splits, machines following after. Flailing desperately they tumbled away, disappearing into the gloom to never be seen again. Chucks of road followed, snapped hawsers and crumbling towers. Fearsome echoes rang along the ravine as the bridge disintegrated, the mighty edifice reduced to two leaning foundations, sticking out like the last teeth in an old man's jaw. The wreckage of the bridge fell into darkness, taking the entire convoy with it.
Aapo clung amazed to the rockface as the noises hung long in the air. The Smoke Jaguars had done this, they had wrought this destruction. He was astonished at the results of their labours, far beyond his wildest imaginings. Such might was as intoxicating as it was sickening, and he knew word of this calamity would reach every ear on Xilbalba. He could only trust Methuselah would find it as unnerving as he did.