Legends of the Smoke Jaguars chapter 198

The Imperial's quick withdrawal had bought a brief window to retrench. Hurriedly the Guardsmen set up new defences among the slum dwellings, knowing it was the last line before the river. Few believed they'd hold for long, the Orks had blown through every defence. Walls hadn't stopped them, nor the Palace guns nor the ferocious battles among the abodes of the wealthy. The Commissars were kept busy enforcing discipline, harshly punishing anyone who dared whisper the city was doomed. They backed this up with executions, to drive the point home.

Ajax kept his chin up as he stepped over the corpse of a Guardsman, one with a smoking hole in his head. The coward's death did not trouble him, such was the deserved fate of the weak and the craven. No matter the creed or heraldry all Space Marines knew that the galaxy had no tolerance for weakness. Ajax passed on, drawing awed glances from other troopers, hurriedly setting up their weapons in between houses and layering traps down narrow alleyways. None of it would stop the Orks, Ajax knew that better than most, recent events had made that plain.

The assault at the docks had been thwarted after a prolonged conflict. Greenskin bodies choked the harbour and the flies were feasting well. The Storm Heralds had saved the western city but at the cost of the east. Their plans had been to manage a staged withdrawal from the Purple District, bleeding the Orks at every step, instead it had bordered on a rout. The only thing holding the front together had been the Smoke Jaguars, a poor substitute, but they had proven adequate. They deserved respect for that, but Ajax owed a greater debt. He hated it, but honour demanded he had to speak to Vitcos.

"You!" Ajax snapped at a pale-faced woman in fatigues.

"My lord?!" she yelped.

"Where are the Smoke Jaguars?!"

"Who..."

"Tell me where to find them, before I turn you into Corpse Starch!"

Wordlessly the woman lifted a hand and pointed at a non-descript building. Ajax turned on his heel and strode off, leaving the woman to pile sandbags in his wake. Time was short, he had to be with his squad within the hour, this brief remission for the demands of honour was fleeting enough as it was. Ajax strode up to the low door and banged his fist on the flimsy panel, nearly tearing it from its frame. A moment passed then he lifted his fist to pound again, only for the panel to swing open.

A dappled grey Space Marine stood within, peering out of the darkness. For a moment the sheer absurdity of the situation struck Ajax. Two Astartes warriors, both capable of smashing through this domicile and out the other side like a runaway freight train, standing at the door like common mortals. What a sight they must make, the farce of it flashed through his mind as a rush of light-headedness, but he clamped down on the impulse and growled, "I will speak to Vitcos."

The Smoke Jaguar faded back into the shadows, which Ajax took as an invitation. The Sergeant stepped within, removing his helm so he could speak without hindrance. The interior was stark, bare stone bricks and an open fireplace, flimsy chairs and a low table. The roof was so close to his thrusters that he knocked chips out of it and the facilities consisted of an outhouse in a small stone courtyard at the back. The only glit in the house was a small shrine to the God-Emperor, brass patterning already turning green. The inhabitants were absent, where Ajax dared not to guess, there was nowhere to flee, not with the bridges closed to civilians.

A squad of Smoke Jaguars lurked within, their eyes suspicious and gazes hostile. Ajax's eye was drawn to a steaming lump on the low table, an Ork heart, torn straight from a living foe. Clearly the Sergeant had interrupted some ritual consumption of enemy flesh. This was not as surprising to him as mortals would suspect, many Chapters had rituals of blood drinking and devouring hearts and brains. The rumours he'd heard of the Blood Angels made such a rite seem tame, and frankly it was the least he would expect of these Smoke Jaguars. From the rear of the room Vitcos stepped forward, his face exposed in readiness to feast. The black tattoo across his face lent him a feral world aspect and his expression was dour.

Vitcos' gaze was suspicious, "For what purpose does Arjax-lel intrude into our communion?"

Ajax faced him without flinching, "I come to discharge a duty of honour."

"Duty is a cruel mistress, harsh, demanding and jealous."

"Do not lecture me on the demands of duty, I know what is required of me. You saved my life in battle, that is a debt I must repay."

"By my count you twice have saved Blazing Shadow Prowl, it is we who owe you."

"Your honour debts are of no interest to me. I owe recompense, that is a chain upon my soul I shall not carry from this world. You will tell me how it shall be repaid in full, so I can shake your dust from my heels."

Vitcos eyed him warily, "Pride is a way of life for you; perhaps alone we can speak heart to heart."

The Smoke Jaguar turned on his heel and moved into the courtyard out back. Ajax followed, barely fitting out the narrow door. No doubt the others were listening, Transhuman hearing would have no difficulties at this range, but they had the illusion of isolation. Ajax gritted his teeth in frustration, he wanted this over and done with.

Vitcos paused in the small courtyard and asked, "Why doth you choose this hour?"

Ajax replied candidly, "I owe you, but when the time came to repay I was... called away."

"You abandoned the line," Vitcos corrected.

"If you expect an apology from me, you will have to wait for the galaxy to rotate on its axis!"

"I seek no contrition from you. I understand the bounds upon you, my Chapter too is a slave to prophesy."

"How do you know about that?!"

"I know," Vitcos rejoined slyly.

Ajax's jaw tensed as he growled, "They say it not Psyker-based, how they know that I care not, but it feels the same. A rare few among us see flashes of inspiration and future events, with disturbing accuracy. How, why these questions are beyond me but when the visions come my Brothers fall over themselves to obey. If they had ever gone wrong, just once, I would denounce them as mutants and Heretics, but they are always right! Damn them."

Vitcos cocked his head, "It seems our Chapters are twinned in soul. Copan too echoes with the jabbering of seers and prophets, marking paths before we can walk them. I despise it, I am no thespian to parrot lines put into my mouth by a dramaturge. Choice and chance rule my life, but I am bound by those above me."

Ajax glared, "So you understand why I had to depart. But you have not told me how to discharge my honour-debt!"

Vitcos sniffed, "Tell me of yourself."

"Why do you care?!"

"Few have I met outside my Chapter who impress me, none of whom shorn esteem once offered. The Smoke Jaguars have encountered many Chapters, and none truly understood our hearts. Even our blood from the XIXth Legion treats us with caution. We took your comrades for braggarts and hollow boasters, but in you I see a spirit of murder most admirable. How can you be, what secrets do you hide, you are a mystery Arjax-lel."

Ajax snorted, "You mistake impatience for depth. There's no mystery to me, I'm just a tired old warrior, worn down by too many wars. I've generations come and go, each dimmer and more gullible than the last. I repeat my lessons endlessly but they stopped listening ages ago. I offer rationality and pragmatism but they prefer passion and faith, comforting ignorance wins over intelligence every time. My patience has been ground down to nothing. I am surrounded by credulous children and condemned to fight the same old battles, over and over and over. I have nothing left save spite."

"You wish to die?" Vitcos asked with a surprised tone.

"Die?" Ajax snorted, "I can't afford to die, not while madness abounds. They say a Space Marine knows no fear but I fear what will become of the Storm Heralds without me. Charael bleats on about divinity, leading our Brothers away from the righteousness of the Codex Astartes. Lujan's head is filled with fanciful dreams. I alone remain true to the teachings that were given to us at our founding. If I die then the Storm Heralds will change into something I don't recognise."

Vitcos looked thoughtful, "Then you must be brash, bold and strong. An indomitable spirit, the firm pillar against the tides of time. This I understand."

"What would you know of it?!" Ajax snapped.

"More than you can possibly grasp."

"Explain!"

Vitcos bowed his head, "You have bared your soul to me, I shall repay in kind, for I too hide a secret fear. Know that on Copan it is tradition that each family offers their firstborn son to the Smoke Jaguars, as a blood sacrifice. Thus has it been since the Dawning, and yet my birth father defied tradition. Two sons had he, born barely a season apart. I was the younger, the babe, the lawful inheritor of our family station in the orbital docks. And yet… when the day came to chain one son to the ritual offering stones my father chose the younger son... me."

Ajax frowned, "He gave you up willingly?"

"The family must be fed by a strong arm and I was the weaker child. He left the runt of the litter to die, so the stronger son could grow into a man."

"You remember this?" Ajax asked in puzzlement.

"Childhood memory fades for most Astartes, but not I, not over this. I remember the heat of the stones, the guilt on my father's face, the shadows coming alive as Headsmen came for recruits. My shame is eternal. I cannot forget that should not exist, Tachna will not allow me to forget. The Headsman believes I should have died in the trials, he will never regard me as worthy."

Ajax considered this for a long moment then said, "Have you… considered that you're an idiot?"

Vitcos blinked in shock, "What say you?!"

However Ajax continued, "Your Chapter's trials are no doubt as deadly as ours and your weakling brother would not have survived. Your father chose the stronger son to sacrifice because you had a chance to survive, whereas the wastrel boy whelped first would not. You were chosen because you were the stronger of the pair, the fact of your survival proves this."

Vitcos looked stunned, "I... I was not weak?"

"Annoying yes, a churlish dolt for sure, but weak... no. The galaxy does not tolerate weakness; therefore you must be strong to have lived so long."

Vitcos stared in wonder as he breathed, "Truly you are Arjax-lel."

"You keep calling me that, why?" Ajax snapped.

"I offer enlightenment: in the tongue of Copan Arjax means 'Kingship', Lel means 'Worthy Of'."

"If you mean that I have honour, then I can live with that," Ajax grunted.

Vitcos nodded again, "Your gift of words is true and meritorious. I deem our honour debts settled."

"Just like that?" Ajax blinked.

"You were born on the wrong planet, among Smoke Jaguars you would thrive. Know that I am pleased to have found my mirror soul among Storm Heralds. I go to my death with my hunger for knowledge satiated."

"As you will," Ajax murmured warily, "So long as this thing between us is over."

"Live and die well, old warrior. I shall endeavour to match your feat."

"Yes well, don't die too quickly. There's work to be done."

Vitcos looked glib as he quipped, "Who am I to defy one Worthy Of Kingship? Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I shall return in triumph. Listen for my tread in the days to come, and you shall hear the echoes of glory!"