Legends of the Smoke Jaguars chapter 208
The doors to the Sanctum Imperialis burst inwards as Ajax's boot connected. The heavy wooden frames could have withstood a mob, but a Space Marines' anger was greater than a hundred bawling men, and more focused. He smashed his way into the Holy space, much to the dismay of the priests within. Ajax met their stunned gazes with a fierce glower, making them shrink back as he snapped, "Clear this rabble out."
Around him his squad moved forward, surrounding the stunned priests on both sides. The pasty-faced men quickly realised what was happening and wailed in protest, crying out against blasphemy and defilement of holy ground. Ajax ignored them, he had no time or care for the discomfort of priests, as far as he was concerned they were even less worthy of respect than Charael. He stood firm as Smoke Jaguars poured in after him, moving into the Sanctum with Transonic mines in hand. The priest's protests became silent as they beheld the feral Astartes, their outlines disturbingly familiar to the Chaos Marines'. The Imperium taught its citizens a thin tissue of lies regarding the Horus Heresy and the Traitor Legions, worse than a blank denial in Ajax's opinion, but enough scraps remained to associate these savage warriors with Heresy.
"The Sanctum will make a worthy trap," Vitcos said as he stepped within.
"Your Brothers can rig it to blow when required?" Ajax asked.
"We are silent not stupid. Doubt not our skill with destruction."
"You better be right about this; I am dangerously close to breaking orders."
"The Heralds of Storms will thank thee, when thou holds the crown in one hand and Orkamemnon's head in the other."
"Speaking of which... you there, come here!"
One of the priests being ushered out the doors looked better fed than the others, doubtless the cardinal or abbot or whatever they called the fool running this place. He wore drab grey robes, as befits the fashion of piety currently sweeping the Imperium but his plump face revealed his indolence was not diminished. The many columns of the building were similar, scraped of paint and gilt they remained pillars of certainty, and constancy in a shifting universe, the long nave a hall of splendour and a solid reminder of the dignity of the Golden Throne, as depicted in a vast stained-glass window. The man affected an aura of outrage, despite being surrounded by Ceramite-clad giants.
"I am Abbot Defrain and your affront shall be reported to the highest authority!" the priest declaimed.
Ajax sneered, "By highest authority you mean your synod, but I have the Emperor's blood in my veins. You are not my equal."
"This Sanctum is holy ground!"
"It will be a slaughterhouse when Orkamemnon gets here and burns your house to the ground."
"He's..." the priest gulped, "He's coming here?!"
"He's coming to get that relic crown you moved from the palace. Tell me where it lays and maybe you'll live to see another day."
Defrain pointed to a narrow doorway where a winding stair ascended. Ajax didn't bother to dismiss the man, instead making for the narrow door. Fitting his Jump Pack through proved tricky, the stair wasn't designed for a Space Marines' bulk but he managed to slide up the stairs by twisting sideways. Hardly dignified but it sufficed. The Sanctum was still under construction, barely half its planned height had been added and the stair soon came to a barricade but off to the side was an access to a higher floor and he took it.
Ajax stepped out into a museum. An entire level of the Sanctum had been given over to relics great and small, swimming in darkness as a large window beyond glimmered with city lights. Plinths stood everywhere under a vaulted roof, each bearing a strange item in a sealed casement. Ajax rolled his shoulders to work out the cramp his awkward gait had created and moved among them, looking for the crown. In various plinths he saw a severed human head in a nun's wimple, mummified and toothless. A skeletal hand gripping a bolt pistol, early model, possibly Great Crusade era in Ajax's judgement. A silver casket with crystal sides was packed to bursting with blonde curls, if they were from one single woman then her hair must have been ten metres long. A life-sized model of a human foot, carved from a lump of jade. A funeral shroud, bearing the impression of a human face. A set of yellowed teeth in a silver jaw. The statue made from various desiccated body parts, its form notably having both male and female genitalia.
Ajax walked through a collection of the bizarre, the outrageous and the useless. What legacies these relics represented eluded him, their origins and significance lost to time. Many worlds must be represented here, the cultures of millions of people invested in these objects but none of them mattered, only the crown did. He found it at the end of the row, set upon a plinth like the rest. His fist made short work of the case and he snatched it up. Such a strange object, he felt nothing but according to the Smoke Jaguars if Orkamemnon got it back his power would increase beyond the bounds of reason. Ajax was musing over this when the room was filled with fiery light.
He spun about and saw a fireball rising in the large window, a brilliant red plume casting a furnace glow into the night sky. Shields reflected the light back down to the ground, intensifying the aura greatly. It didn't take a Transhuman mind to calculate it was uncomfortably near, right on the western bank. The Orks had found some way across, they were inside the defences.
Ajax was on the vox in an instant, "Ajax to Lujan, Lujan come in!"
Lujan's voice was cut by the harsh din of battle as the Chapter Master called, "Ajax where the hell are you?!"
"The Sanctum Imperialis," Ajax responded without thought.
"Why are you all the way over there, no, never mind, I need you at the front now!"
"I..." Ajax breathed, "Cannot get there."
"Warp Hells!" Ljuan snapped, "The Orks sacrificed their Stompas to make a bridge! I'm directing artillery onto it but we can't vector in enough firepower to break their shields. I'm trying to trap their beachhead in a kill-box but these wretched beasts don't want to die! Thousands of Orks are massing, waiting to cross the river. If we can't contain them in the next few minutes then we lose this city!"
Ajax stepped to the window, "I have a plan to deal with them."
"YOU have a plan?!" Lujan gasped.
"If it works Orkamemnon will be drawn to my location, pulling his spearhead away from support and isolating him. If you open a corridor to let him through then you can pincer in again and cut off the breach."
Lujan was silent for a moment, "Ajax... have you gone mad?"
"I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm asking."
"You realise this plan leaves you trapped alone with an Ork warboss?"
"I'm not alone, I have the Smoke Jaguars with me."
A pointed silence then, "Brother-Sergeant, did you abandon your post to run off with those louts?"
Ajax felt a stab of guilt but rejoined, "Orkamemnon cannot be stopped conventionally, we both know it. Charael knows it too, but won't admit it. This is our last chance to stop him."
"I could order you back to the line," Lujan hissed.
"For the sake of our friendship, don't," Ajax refuted.
"A Space Marine who can disobey an order is no Space Marine," Lujan growled, "You taught me that."
Ajax's patience snapped, "What do you want to say? Should I give you some fancy speech about principles and honour and sacrifice? I'm no good at that. I'm here, I have the means to end this war once and for all, all I need is your trust. After all our centuries battling side by side, I've earned that much. Trust me now, even if you pack me off to the Deathwatch after, trust me for one more hour."
A long pause then Lujan said, "I'm pulling squads out of the way to open a path, as soon as the Orks overextend we'll cut along the riverbank and hit them on both sides."
"My thanks," Ajax replied.
"God-Emperor be with you," Lujan stated.
"Fight hard, die proud," Ajax signed off.
More flames were rising along the shoreline but Ajax was already running for the doorway. Crown in hand he slid into the stairwell and made his way down. Each step was a gruelling test of patience, taxing his nerves. Storm Heralds were fighting and dying and he wasn't there. This better work, it had to work.
Ajax burst back onto the ground floor to find the area had been cleared of all non-combatants. The Smoke Jaguars were fitting their last charges to the granite supports and setting up a pict-imager on the marble floor. Ajax saw Iagion returning, leading their remaining Brothers even as the doors were closed behind them.
"The idiots are out of the way?" Ajax called.
"Ran as fast as they could as soon as they saw the flames," Iagion replied.
"They won't come back?"
"Confessor-militants they are not, they won't show their heads till dawn."
"Good," Ajax affirmed, "Your scruffy lot ready?"
Vitcos called, "The mantrap is set, its fangs sharp. All that remains is the bait."
Ajax knew that was his cue and stepped in front of the pict-imager, holding the crown in one hand. They'd tied the device into the cities' public broadcast system, using various Tech-Heresies the Smoke Jaguars declined to explain. What Ajax had to say would be heard by all, including Orkamemnon, the Warboss couldn't fail to see it when his face would be plastered over every public screen.
Ajax faced the lens squarely and spake, "Hear me Orkamemnon, you yellow-bellied coward. I am Ajax and I call you a snivelling little grot, pissing yourself in fear of facing a real challenge. I know why you seek this crown, it's because you are too weak to win without it. I have the crown and if you want it back you'll have to come and take it from me."
He signed off by leaning closer to the imager to sneer, "I await you in the Sanctum Imperialis, if you require Promethium, I can supply you."