Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 162
Many things about this situation were not good and as he fled into the tangled nest of conduits and pipes Vorshaan bitterly recited them in his head. He'd been betrayed by Empex, before the Dusk Prince had a chance to betray him first which added insult to injury. His Claw-leaders weren't responding, presumably dead or running for their lives. The fabric of the city was quickly becoming saturated with the raw animus of Chaos, twisting reality and spreading insanity everywhere. The entire city was ringed by Imperial armies, making escape by ground or air impossible. And if that wasn't bad enough once the lackeys outside realised what was happening they'd wipe the continent clean to eradicate the scourge, if they didn't simply call forth Exterminatus. Three Chaos incursions was too much to countenance. To say Vorshaan was aggrieved was an understatement.
The Dusk Prince scurried across the top of a pipe in an undignified half-crouch. Below the citizens of Nu Zantium were dying, beset by lurching cadavers driven by Cordyceps spores lodged in their brains. Men and women screamed briefly as they fought to get through narrow doorways, clawing and kicking wildly even before the undead touched them. When the infected reached them the fight was over in moments, unfeeling hands ripping out eyes and rotten teeth tearing at necks. The corrupted killed them quickly, then the victims joined the killers, lurching off to spread their taint further.
Vorshaan knew this was only the first hint of the malaise. The populace would be culled and then the fabric of Nu Zantium would be next, the metal and machinery of its workings made into a fetid temple to Nurgle. From here the infestation would spread like wildfire throughout the surrounding armies, then into the fabric of the planet itself. If Empex was planning to do what Vorshaan thought he was going to do then the horrors that followed would be indescribable. Maybe Exterminatus was the best option, if Vorshaan didn't happen to be trapped on the planet. That left option two: find Empex and kill him, only by slaying the sorcerer could a dark ritual be unmade. Easier said than done.
Vorshaan reached the end of the pipe and slithered onto a conduit, but here he paused. The top of the conduit was sealed off by a grille, but someone had neatly cut a hole through it, large enough for a Space Marine to pass. This was odd, none of his Night Lords had been through here, and as far as he knew the Dark Tusks hadn't either. No other hint of intrusion, not even a bootprint left on the conduit but someone had come through here recently.
Intrigued Vorshaan slid onto the broad surface and inched along. He was as quiet as a Transhuman could be, but suspected he was a clodding fool compared to whoever passed this way. The pipe was long and the roof low, running into the depths of the city. Near total darkness enveloped him, but Vorshaan sensed a drop ahead, and inched to the edge, peering over to see what lay below.
A broad circular space where multiple pipes and conduits met. A dozen Servitors labouring mindlessly at pumping stations and adjusting pressure valves, their flesh already starting to prickle with mould furs. The floor was wide and the air was wet with moisture as hot and cold fluids heated and chilled the air constantly. Light from a single Lumen orb showed where effluent pipes had leaked over the years, shoddy welds hinting at rushed repairs and the lack of purity seals attested this junction was below the consideration of any Tech-Priest. And yet it was important enough for a mob of Smoke Jaguars to linger.
Eight of them, poised for danger. Seven of them formed a ring, pointing bolters down various passages that spilt off. The eighth knelt over a large circular hatch, patiently cutting through the metal with a sparking plasma-torch. Vorshaan could hardly believe his luck, of all the people to run into down here it had to be these simpletons. He wanted to laugh, this had to be one of Tzeentch's ineffable plots to ruin the plans of his rivals, no other explanation made sense. It was a cosmic joke, but in that bizarreness lay opportunity. The Smoke Jaguars hated Empex, he hated Empex, and as the old saying went the enemy of my enemy is a problem for later, in the meantime they might be useful.
Vorshaan spread his wings wide and stepped off the edge. Immaterial power allowed him to drift downwards as light as a feather. He strained his ears to catch the conversation below but heard nothing save soft vox-clicks, whatever frequency the Smoke Jaguars were using was outside his armour's detection range. Softly the Dusk Prince settled down, arms held wide, but even the faintest clink brought numerous bolters to bear.
"Parley!" Vorshaan called aloud, "I bear you no ill will!"
"Lair!" their leader snarled as he flexed a lightning claw.
"I'm not lying when I say if you fire those bolters in here you'll alert the entire city to your presence," Vorshaan lied.
"We need no guns to end you Traitor!" came the reply as bolters were hoisted and knives were drawn.
Vorshaan countered hastily, "Before you attack know that Empex and his Dark Tusks have betrayed me too. They plot to engulf this entire city into the mire of Chaos, which is as great a danger to me as it is to you. Damchak... wasn't it? Empex killed your Chapter Master, I know you want vengeance on him. I propose we put our enmity on pause to kill Empex."
Damchak's reply was a growl, "You plot murder in the dark, you unleashed the filth of Chaos and murdered Bezharad, and think we will forgive you?!"
"No," Vorshaan sniffed, "But there are bigger concerns at play."
"Vengeance is the blood in our veins, justice the wind in our lungs. No cause can turn us from our quest. All souls shall die, high and low, so long as the Traitor perishes!"
Vorshaan's eyes fell to the cut floor, "You aren't heading for the summit like Empex said... you're heading... oh, the plasma reactors... I see. Not a bad plan, but it won't work. This city is corrupted, the Enginarium will be mired in taint before you get there. If you want revenge then you have to work with me to kill Empex. After that we can murder each other all we like."
Damchak flexed his claws, "Smoke Jaguar blood is on your hands. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, so swears Umbral Flame!"
"Don't be stupid," Vorshaan warned.
"As one Kinsmen!" Damchak roared.
Damchak charged headlong, claw slicing the air apart. Vorshaan had time for a brief "Frak", then he was spinning out of the way. The crackling claws missed by the narrowest margin, striking the wall behind and leaving a series of massive slashes through the material. Vorshaan's spin put him behind Damchak and he could easily have driven his Chainglaive into the spine, but he had other problems.
The rest of the Smoke Jaguars piled in, slashing and hacking wildly. Vorshaan could have bested any one of them but in the narrow confines, and outnumbered so heavily he was restricted. Humming black blades scored over his plate, shearing gothic ornaments off and shorting out the electro-reactive underlayer that portrayed lightning bolts. Vorshaan was in constant motion, the micro-second it took the blades to find the resonant harmonic was the only thing keeping him from being impaled, but he was torn and battered regardless.
Vorshaan ducked low and swept his weapon around, slamming the shaft into the backs of knees. A pair of Smoke Jaguars went down, sprawling on the deck. A knife lashed his wing and pain bloomed but he responded by hacking at a knee, causing the offender to jump over the snarling Adamantine teeth. The moment of lost footing cost the Smoke Jaguar dear as Vorshaan rose with an uppercut that sent him flying into a wall. Two more came at him from the sides, the Dusk Prince spun out of the way at the last second, causing them to tangle in a clumsy embrace. Then another stabbed for his eye with a sharp thrust, Vorshaan caught the wrist and pivoted, sending the attacker into the other two who had recovered and were coming after him.
Vorshaan was among the best fighters in the galaxy, if he did say so himself, but against such odds even he was struggling. His tricks were buying time only, and if he paused to finish someone properly the rest would have him. Constant motion was his only saving grace, but in such tight confines his chances were running out, sooner or later someone would land a telling blow and then it would be over. And then Tikal came out of nowhere.
A blur of motion in the corner of his eye then a knife was coming at his throat. Vorshaan twisted aside as an ill-formed blur assaulted him, slashing high and low seemingly simultaneously. Vorshaan spun his chainglaive hand over hand, trying to keep the blur at bay, but it didn't work. A cut to the elbow let blood flow free, a stab at the knee made him stagger and a vicious cut to the breast deformed his armour with a leering smile. Vorshaan was stunned, the mutated Smoke Jaguar was deadlier than ever, his strange talent more potent than before. He was impossible to track and there was something else in his haze, a hint of Immaterial power, a stench like rancid milk. Vorshaan had no time to figure it out as Tikal drove for the throat.
"Frak it," Vorshaan hissed as he vaulted upwards, flapping his wings to soar out of the fight. A cry of frustrated revenge gave him pause, as the Smoke Jaguars ran to the walls and began climbing after him, abandoning their intent to cut a path to the reactors. Vorshaan snapped his wings wide and hovered as he beheld them give chase, all thoughts save spilling his lifeblood driven from their minds. They were rabid in their hate, as fixated on reaping lives as the worst Khorne Berserker, only more focused. He could use that.
Vorshaan eyed numerous passageways at various levels and his Transhuman mind plotted a path to the top of the city. He casually drifted to the selected opening and set his feet down, before jeering, "Pathetic, utterly pathetic! You fight like mewling children, no worse: like Guardsmen!"
Damchak was heaving himself up the wall rapidly, "Death at my claws will be slow and painful, this I promise!"
"Ha! You buffoons couldn't kill me if I gave you a free shot," Vorshaan taunted.
"The Smoke Jaguars shall never relent!" Damchak snarled as he heaved himself up the wall.
"You are less than nothing. I spit upon your bloodline," Vorshaan sneered, "Your birth mother was so ugly that her portrait required neither hammer nor nail, for it hung itself!"
Vorshaan judged they were enraged enough to follow him anywhere and turned to sprint up the passageway. He was already charting a path to the Senatorial dome, and calculating how long it would take to get there. He didn't need a truce to make his scheme work, let the Smoke Jaguars scramble for his head, so long as they were in Empex's way too. Anarchy and confusion were all Vorshaan required, and he trusted the Smoke Jaguars would attack any Traitor they encountered on sight. They would all die, probably, but all Vorshaan needed was one clean shot at Empex. And if any Smoke Jaguar was still alive afterwards then the Dusk Prince could just kill them himself.