Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 177
Dawn's aurora spread across the sky, a swell of warm gold driving back the blackness of night. The stars were fading as the sun washed them out, overpowering in its basking glow. The city walls of Coronam were crowned with light, golden rays creeping over their crenelations. Dew was heavy in the air as the people stirred for their daily labours, and the night creepers sulked back to their dens in the Rathaus, their crimes done. The city was waking, but the Storm Heralds hadn't slept.
In a marshalling yard the Storm Heralds were kneeling in squads, helms doffed so they could gaze upon the dawn with their own eyes. Three hundred Space Marines, all gathered for this singular moment. Once battle started there would be no time for such niceties, no time for ceremony, so they took this last chance to observe their Rites. Though newborn the Chapter has adopted the culture of their homeworld Silentium, now rechristened Lujan II, whose slow rotation meant sunlight had special significance unto the populace. Dawn was a sacred moment, even Ajax could not argue with that.
Ajax stared unblinking into the sky until the growing light pained his eyes. Silhouetted against the dawn High Chaplain Charael spoke the ritual words, "For what will you give your lives?"
Three hundred Transhuman voices responded, "We give our lives for honour."
Again Charael uttered, "What is your honour?"
"Our honour is our duty," came the reply.
"What is your duty?" the litany continued.
"To serve the Emperor's will," they intoned.
"What is the Emperor's will?" the ancient words rang out.
"That we be the champions and defenders of mankind," they uttered.
"How will you defend mankind?" Charael barked.
"With our lives!" the Storm Heralds roared.
"Thus the circle is complete, as inevitable as the setting and rising of the sun," Charael proclaimed, "For Him on Terra!"
The ritual was complete and the Space Marines stood up. They made a customary check of their weapons, inspecting their gear and belt pouches. Their power armour held enough supplies and power cells to function for months, but not everything could fit into the pharmacopoeia built into its backpack. Ceramite-clad hands patted down their pouches in moments and Ajax brushed the hilt of his Eviscerator, confident all was in order.
"So we come to it at last," Iagion uttered.
"Good, I hate waiting," Ajax grumbled to his squadmate.
"The Orks will be here within the hour?"
"So the Augurs tell," Ajax agreed.
Iagion smirked, "You wish we were out there, hitting them on the move?"
"We'd achieve Frak all if we did. It would be pissing lives away for no good purpose. No, the walls are where we meet them, there we can make the Green bastards bleed."
"Where's a volley of Magma bombs when you need one eh?" Iagion quipped.
Any response was cut off as a crackle of static washed over the city. Along the walls ethereal relays sparked, blazing with corposant as distant generators test-fired. The city's Void Shields were being stirred to wakefulness, Tech-Priests beseeching Machine Spirits to heed their supplications. Those shields would be sorely tested, but were wrought by sciences fast fading in this lesser age. Ajax was confident they would deny airstrikes and artillery, that only left a direct assault upon the walls.
The Vox-net came alive as Chapter Master Lujan began disseminating orders. The Companies broke up, squads heading to various postings along the wall. They all knew the plan, they'd memorised fallback routes and rendezvous coordinates, along with the position of every munition cache in the city. Ajax however knew how quickly brilliant plans could collapse in a fight. It would require peerless coordination and discipline for a few hundred Marines to make the slightest difference. In this he knew the Chapter was not lacking, their allies however he doubted.
"The skulking curs better be in position," Ajax grumbled.
"Brother-Sergeant?" Iagion asked.
"The Smoke Jaguars, they better hold up their end, or we're shafted."
"Were they that strange?"
"Strange isn't the word, Heretical is more like it. I've never seen any Astartes so feral as that lord of theirs, not a loyal one at least. How they avoided Inquisitional condemnation is beyond me."
Iagion shook his head, "The Imperium needs more Space Marines, and scuttlebutt has it they played a big part in the downfall of the Nova Terra Interregnum."
"Old news, today is what concerns me," Ajax dismissed.
"I trust you are not questioning our orders?!" came the harsh voice of Charael. Ajax bit down on a curse as he turned to see the First Visionary bearing down on him. The rest of his squad bowed their heads but Ajax refused to give him the dignity. The Veteran Sergeant clenched his jaw and tried to keep his fists at his side as he braced himself for the tirade to come.
Charael did not disappoint, "Our mandate was clear and our ally's commitment is beyond doubt!"
Ajax sneered back, "Tell me you don't feel a target on your back when the Smoke Jaguars are in the room and I'll call you a liar."
"My feelings are irrelevant, the God-Emperor has willed that our two Chapters stand shoulder to shoulder, and so it will be."
Ajax could not help but sneer, "Having another one of your visions are you?"
"Do not mock me," Charael hissed, "His gifts are not to be questioned. His power is beyond doubting. You have seen what I have seen, you were there, that day when the Angels stepped forth to sweep the Traitors aside!"
Ajax growled, "I don't know what those things were, but they were not angels. Korolis was a crapstorm, and none of us can truly claim to know what happened!"
Charael drew himself up, "With our own eyes we beheld the God-Emperor's divine power, and yet you still doubt. His might is real, we are living proof of it! Fleets cross the Daemon-infested miasma of the warp thanks to the Astronomican. Vast armies give battle on countless worlds in His name. The power of Chaos is held at bay by His eternal sacrifice. What else can he be but a God?"
Ajax glared back, "Hope... you cling to it; you clasp it so tight you throttle it in the crib. You saw the inexplicable and sought meaning it in, to find hope against the dying of the stars themselves. You conjure fantasies, while I see only reality. The galaxy is filled with wild phantasma, some malevolent, others indifferent, but none favour mankind. Whatever we witnessed that day may be foes to Chaos, but they are certainly not men, nor manifestations of His will."
Charael glared, "Were you a lesser Brother I would flagellate you for voicing such doubts."
"Were you not a Chaplain I would punch you in the face," Ajax hissed.
"You are a blunt instrument Brother-Sergeant, crude and unsubtle."
Ajax sneered, "And you are a slave of faith. You kneel and pray when the Primarch demands action. I am proud to be a weapon of war. You may root out Heresy and weakness, but I simply slaughter it. Our gene-seed binds us, nothing more."
Charael's anger was sharp, "I am the Emperor's Storm!"
But Ajax retorted, "And I am His Wrath! We shall see which He favours more in the days to come."
Charael stepped back, "Your disrespect shall not be forgotten. I suggest you fight hard in the days to come, else earn harsh penance."
"Fear not preacher, Ajax is ever at the front. Go pray for hope upon your knees, while I do the real fighting."
Ajax spun on his heel and walked off. His squad followed, ears burning with the scorn piled upon them. Ajax knew it was unseemly to argue in front of his Brothers, but he and Charael were too set in their ways to change. For hundreds of years they'd argued these same points over and over, growing bitter in their quarrel. Only Ajax, Charael and Lujan yet lived of those who'd fought on Korolis and each held wildly different accounts of what had happened at the mouth of the Eye of Terror. Charael was convinced it was divine intervention, and so spread a creed of Emperor Worship. Backed by his visions many embraced his teachings and prostrated at the altar of idolatry. Chapter Master Lujan held it was a dark marvel, but an explainable one, and sought answers in dubious pacts with the Lazarus Progression. Ajax didn't know what he'd beheld that day but held the inexplicable remained unexplained for good reason. He didn't know what had saved them on Korolis, but he was certain that the Legion of the Damned were not angels.
As they marched to their post Ajax muttered, "I trust your Friction Axe is blessed."
"Thrice-blessed," Iagion answered, "The weapon's spirit yearns for the slaughter to come."
"That's what I like to hear. We'll show these Greenskin wretches what happens when they dare face Vanguard Veterans."
"Care for a wager over which one of us will reap more Ork skulls?"
"Gambling is a vice," Ajax chided.
"Yes I know, but do you want to bet?"
"You know me well," Ajax smirked, "What do you wager?"
"A month's supply of Synthi-gruel."
"Is that a prize for the winner or a forfeit for the loser?"
"Good point... loser has to polish the winner's plate all the way to the next deployment."
"You're on," Ajax grinned, "Get your lapping powders in order, I want to see my face's reflection in my breastplate!"
Chuckles spread among the squad as they shared the warmth of Brotherhood. Ajax was glad of their presence, among his Squadmates he didn't have to worry about matters of faith and doctrine. He could be simply Ajax, the gruff older Brother who was always there when needed. Ajax much preferred that simple position to the trappings of power. High-rank and lauded station were gilded cages, tearing the incumbents away from what was truly important. Charael chased hope but Ajax craved brotherhood, it was what kept him going through the centuries, he needed his comrades, and he needed to be needed.
Victory Gate loomed ahead, already occupied by half a Company of Storm Heralds. The massive bastion dominated the skyline, its mighty gates already sealed shut. Thousands of Guardsmen lined its battlements and twin Macrocannons were rising out of armoured towers to either side, barrels elevating to greet the Orks. Within the hour the first shots would be fired, and the battle for Coronam would begin.
Ajax led his squad up a reserved stairway, ascending fifteen levels to reach a fortified battlement. He was greeted by awed Guardsmen, hurriedly checking and rechecking the Heavy Bolters pointed out of gunports. The Storm Heralds strode past them to reach a mid-point, then planted their feet and drew weapons as they faced the distant horizon. Ajax looked across a broad plain towards the distant horizon and knew these stones would soon be wet with blood, Ork and human alike. He would see the bastion stand though; nothing would break him.
A pale-faced woman inched nearer, she wore a white greatcoat with silver embellishments and her trepidation was plain, "My... my lord?"
"Name, rank and regiment!" Ajax barked without taking his eyes off the horizon.
"Lieutenant Luivera, 3rd Heavy Support platoon, 934th Merican Cuirassiers!" she exclaimed.
"Your question?" Ajax continued.
"Are... are you to stand with us?"
"We are indeed," Ajax stated, "We shall meet the Orks side by side and shed Xenos blood together."
Her eyes sparkled, "The men are honoured to have you with us! With the Emperor's Angels at our side surely there is hope!"
Ajax slowly took his helm in hand and fitted it home with a hiss of pressurisation. The world became a vista of targeting runes and tactical overlays, but more so he wanted to smother his response so as not to break her spirit. Still he whispered to himself, "Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man to Heresy."