Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 75

Aapo stood still as the wind tussled his short hair, its cold kiss making his scalp shiver. Bitter scents blew up his nose, marked with chemical traces from the turbulent skies above. Oppressive were those clouds, seething with hostile currents, but their danger was stymied, confined to the vaults of heaven. For the moment their wrath was contained, but the slightest shift could see them spill furious destruction upon the living. Aapo reflected it was an apt metaphor for their current situation.

Upon a bleak plain Spectre of Woe idled, its bulk hidden from orbital surveillance by the roiling stormfronts overhead. There was nothing else to be seen, just endless barren wastes in all directions. The ground was blackened by repeated exposure to storm fronts, cracked like flaking skin by frequent chemical baths. Far from any of the sinkhole cities they lingered, preparing the tools they would require for the final assault. Hanphu was sealed inside the Rhino, carefully working over their instrument of vengeance, but Apo and Takana lingered outside.

Aapo glanced at his comrade and wondered what silent thoughts passed through the Dark Fury's mind. Takana and he were comrades in arms, sharing a mission and a common foe, but that did not make them friends. Aapo wasn't even sure if the term Prowlmates could be applied. Xavaar had brought them together and his passing had energised them, but beyond that there was nothing to bind them. What would Aapo do after the mission was over, would he finally be judged fit to join a Prowl proper: with a name like Illchosen hanging about his neck he doubted it.

"The evening shadow grows long," Takana declared, "But not as long as your face."

Aapo sighed, "I wonder what will become of us after we kill the Bronze Beast."

"A distracted mind is a mind inviting defeat," Takana warned.

Aapo lifted an eyebrow, "The Testimony teaches the wise man knows his destination before setting one foot upon the road."

But Takana countered, "Arkqas wrote many things, but he did not live to see the founding of the Smoke Jaguars."

Aapo turned his head slightly, "How much do you know of our origin, how did we come to be… as we are…"

Takana sighed, "I was raised on the stories of noble Sedaxus as you were but the tale did not ring true. Xavaar had not perfected his lies. I asked questions of the oldest Smoke Jaguars, there were a few left from the Dawning in those days. They did not answer my questions, but their refusal was an answer in itself. It took me two decades to piece the truth together, but when I confronted Xavaar he told me the rest. Sedaxus, Arkqas and he were Night Lords, as were a third of our forbearers."

Aapo scowled, "But I was taught the Traitor Primarchs were befouled by Chaos, that their seed was corrupted by the Ruinous Powers. How can it be we share blood with the polluted and mad?"

Takana sniffed, "Xavaar claimed Sedaxus never turned traitor, and the rest of them were exiles from the legion, cast-offs and disappointments. He seemed pleased with the idea of disappointing the Night Haunter. One thing he often said was the Night Lords were always as the Sun-Emperor made them to be. He claimed it was Konrad Curze who led them astray, his madness alone that spelt their doom. Without the cauldron of insanity that was his mind they were free to be who they had always been meant to be, as could we."

Aapo glanced upwards, "How many others know this truth?"

Takana stared at the clouds, his pale face lit green by distant lightning, "The Headsmen for sure, the Apothecaries most likely, they would have to tend the mixed gene-seed. Palanque and those foremost among Firsts… possibly."

A thought crossed Aapo's mind, "If the Shade-Lord judges this secret most dire then our worth is magnified."

Takana's head turned very slowly to stare, "You speak dangerously."

Aapo swallowed nervously, "I merely wonder what we could do with this knowledge, Palanque must surely wish it not to be known. A place among a Prowl seems a small price for silence."

Takana's bulk pivoted and his claws flexed threateningly. For a moment Aapo thought he would strike, such disdain in his eyes, such stern judgement. Aapo shrank back as Takana hissed, "It seems you learnt your lessons too well. You have been taught to enjoy killing, to use fear as your weapon, but you have failed to heed the most important truth of the Testimony. Fear is the weapon, never the goal. The end justifies the means many say but Arkqas wrote it is the means that define the end. What we have done on this moon is evil, but only in the service of a loftier good. We have performed vile deeds for the sake of the Chapter, for all who dwell in the Boscage and the Sun-Emperor, not for ourselves! You propose to aggrandise yourself, elevate your station by means unbecoming a child of Corax and so you declare yourself Curze's true son."

Aapo swallowed, "I was only speculating, I would not follow through…"

Takana cut him off, "Xavaar's lying tongue has found an heir. You are aptly named: Illchosen."

The Dark Fury turned on his heel and strode off, leaving Aapo to trail in his wake. Aapo's shame was weighty, the self-recrimination burning. To think he had entertained the idea of blackmailing his own Shade-lord, all to claim a station he had not yet been deemed worthy of. The stab of guilt was a knife unto his hearts. The doctrines he had been taught on this moon were perilous, how easy it was to slip into bad practice, to let the sin his hands must perform stain his soul. He must safeguard his spirit against the slippery path of corruption, else become that which was hateful and vile. He resolved to never threaten to divulge this secret to one who did not know already, never attempt to leverage this knowledge for advantage. It was a line he drew in the sand, a benchmark of integrity he swore he would never fail. Any other path would see him become someone he did not wish to be.

Spectre of Woe's rear hatch lowered as they closed and Hanphu appeared, removing his helmet as he breathed deep. K'oy squatted on the roof, sneering at the pair, its metallic face as mocking as ever. Aapo ignored it as they closed, seeing the modifications were complete. The large canister Takana had liberated from the Vapour Mill squatted on the Rhino's floor, its bulk reinforced by welded bands of Plasteel. One end had been fitted with a spray-nozzle, and a trigger mechanism that looked far too easy to open. Aapo's skin crawled in dread, but it was their best chance of defeating the Bronze Beast.

Hanphu smiled in delight, "The Magpyr promised you it would be easy, the Magpyr delivers."

"Our faith is rewarded?" Takana asked as he stepped onto the ramp.

"Rip away the binding cord and poof! Hydrogen Cyanide shall fill the lungs of all within fifty paces."

Aapo hung back as he asked, "Is that truly enough to kill a Thunder Warrior?"

Hanphu sniffed, "This is the purest expression of Xilbalba's toxic nature. One breath would put a Squiggoth down for good."

Takana leaned over the tox-bomb and remarked, "Xavaar told us the Thunder Warriors were unsubtle creations, fated to fight on the soil of Terra and nowhere else. They were not geneforged to stride across worlds bathed in radiation, to breathe poisonous atmosphere or dine on gravel and mud for weeks on end. No Preomnor, Multi-lung, Melanchroic organ, not even a Mucranoid. Methuselah may be stronger and faster, but he cannot adapt to a hostile universe as we can."

Aapo frowned, "And if it detonates prematurely, in the Rhino?"

Hanphu dismissed, "It won't be too good for us either, but we have sealed helmets."

"I don't," Aapo pointed out.

"Then I suggest you don't do anything to jostle it," Hanphu grinned as K'oy cackled wickedly.

Takana straightened up, "We have thrown this moon into bedlam, the armies of men are pulled in a thousand directions. We only have to deal with Methuselah's personal guards. We find his fastness, we break it open, then set the tox-bomb off when he confronts us directly."

"So we only have to find him?" Aapo scoffed.

"I know where he is," Hanphu stated.

Takana and Aapo both yelped, "What… how?!"

Hanphu cocked his head upwards, "K'oy has been picking up a vox-signal bouncing off the ionosphere. It contains a set of coordinates. Someone wants us to know where to find the Bronze Beast."

"You didn't mention this earlier?!" Takana spat.

"You didn't ask," Hanphu scoffed.

"Denshu betrays his master?" Aapo guessed.

"Possibly, or the Lacrymole," the Magpyr replied.

"There are no Lacrymole you brain-addled dolt!" Takana hissed, "This could well be a trap, baited by Methuselah himself."

"Do we have any other options?" Hanphu rejoined.

"No," Takana sighed, "We must confront the Bronze Beast, and this is the only lead we have. The final battle awaits, and we must triumph, no matter the odds."

Takana ducked into the Rhino as he donned his helm. Hanphu followed, moving to the driver's seat. K'oy swinging through the hatch after. Aapo hesitated a moment, reluctant to share a confined space with a canister of deadly poison, but steeled himself and did so anyway. The ramp whined closed as Spectre of Woe's engines started, rattling the canister most worryingly. Aapo took a last look at the bleak horizon and promised himself no matter what came he would conduct himself as was proper. Curze's blood was in his veins, the twisted majesty it bestowed was his inheritance, but equally was he a child of Corax. Nobility of purpose and unwavering commitment was the Ravenlord's bequest, and Aapo must learn to embrace both parts of his heritage. No matter if he lived or died Aapo would behave as a Smoke Jaguar ought, and perhaps he could prove he was well-chosen after all.