Legends of the Smoke Jaguars chapter 210
In the lee of the Sanctum Imperialis Ajax met the Orks with the edge of his blade. Ferocious they were, mad fusions of misbegotten flesh and deranged engineering, hammered together by a demented fool, yet Ajax was their equal. He stood his ground and reaped them as they came, killing swiftly and ruthlessly. The bellowing of the foe and the roaring of chainteeth on metal was an auditory assault in itself, the heat of combat could be felt through Ceramite plate and yet the Veteran-Sergeant was not bowed.
A Cybork came out of the night with a pair of whirling Drill-bit for hands. Ajax dodged around the clumsy blow and swung Storms Wrath into its flank. The impact shook his arms but he leaned into it, putting all his strength into the blow. A terrible wet buzzing sounded as the weapon chewed through dense skin and bone, becoming shrill as it met metal pistons buried beneath. Red spray coated his chest and shaved metallic splinters and a sharp crack as a shorn Chaintooth ripped free, but he redoubled his efforts, sweat coating his brow as he sawed the Cybork in half.
The wet wreckage hit the stepped stones and Ajax looked to his squadmates. The Vanguard Veterans were making a fine accounting for themselves, culling any Cyborks who dared set foot on the Sanctum's entrance steps. Four Storm Heralds had accounted for many times their number, making an altar of death outside to rival the stark magnificence inside. Ajax was proud of his Brothers but knew they could not withstand the true horde. Only random strays were reaching the Sanctum, rather than an overwhelming torrent.
He could hear the Smoke Jaguars battling in the streets, damming the tide and holding the bulk of the Orks at bay. The goal was not to deny Orkamemnon but to strip him of support, when he got here Ajax wanted him isolated and alone. Further out Lujan was beginning his counter-attack, scything Squads along the riverbank from both directions to decapitate the Xenos' spearhead. If he could secure the end of the makeshift bridge they could fire under the shield, decimating any Ork who dared attempt the crossing. By the vox-calls they were close to success, which would leave those foes already across the river trapped in a pocket, surrounded on all sides. The plan was working, the only obstacle was Orkamemnon himself.
"Where the hell is he?!" Iagion called as he chopped the legs from a Cybork.
"He's coming," Ajax snarled as he ripped the face off another.
"He better, my arm's getting tired."
"You moan like an elderly Cleric; I'm thrice your age and barely warmed up!"
"I..." Iagion began then started, "Oh Frak, here he comes!"
From the surrounding building Orkamemnon appeared, barrelling out of the smoke and flames of war with hatred in his eyes. The Warboss was stained with blood, his Grot-Prodder sparking furiously. A few Black Orks were with him, the last remnants of his kin, but he alone was a wrecking ball of violence. Orkamemnon's fists promised brutality beyond understanding, the clench of his jaw was an Exterminatus waiting to happen. The Warboss' eyes fixed upon Ajax, no his hip, where the spiked crown waited. It was within reach and Orkamemnon charged headlong up the stairs, his maw spraying spittle in frustrated need.
"Back into the Sanctum!" Ajax bellowed. The Vanguards needed no further urging and turned their backs to flee through the open doors. Within the nave was silence, long benches cleared away and the empty vaults absent of life. Thick columns lined both sides, their surfaces marred where Transonic mines had been implanted. With the push of a button Ajax could shatter them to powder, bringing down the entire edifice in an instant demolition. He didn't care how tough Orkamemnon was, no living being in this galaxy could survive hundreds of thousands of tonnes of Ferrocrete being dropped on its head.
The end of the nave beckoned, so close, the stained-glassic window offering salvation. Ajax pulled the detonator-wand from his belt pouch and held it in one hand, Storms Wrath swinging in the other. He was accelerating for all he was worth, moving as fast as a ground cab, his speed phenomenal given the mass of an Astartes. He could already picture it, the Vanguards would blow through the glass on trails of jet exhaust, soaring to safety as the Sanctum imploded behind them. So close, victory was within his grasp and the taste was on his tongue. Over half the naves' length covered in seconds, his jet intakes gasping for air as turbines whined ready to ignite. Ajax waited for the kick in the rear that would send him flying, but for all his transhuman speed he could not outrun lightning.
A spear of jagged energy shot down the Sanctum's length and wrapped itself about the fleeing Space Marines. Searing agony shot through Ajax, coursing through his nerves like an iron rasp upon skin. Motive Force grounded through his body, setting every inch of him aflame. Pain such as would break a mortal man consumed every cell in his body, all-encompassing and debilitating. Still he tried to forge on; to channel this agony into rage but his armour failed him. The Machine Spirit went mad as raw current smote its circuits, causing violent spasms in the fibre-bundles, sending the Vanguards crashing to the floor, unable to control their limbs.
Orkamemnon chuckled as he lowered his Grot-Prodder, the forks coursing with stray crackles of static charge. Ajax was laid out on the cold floor, his limbs refusing to obey. Desperately he cast his eyes about, seeking his dropped weapons. Storms Wrath lay just out of reach, but of the detonator-wand there was no sign, the small rod had rolled out of sight.
"Get dem up Sorkrates," Orkamemnon growled.
"Dis one?" the Black Ork asked as he hauled Brother Wenrael to his feet.
"Nah, not dat one, Orkamemnon dismissed.
"Wot I do with em?"
"Why I gotta tink of everyting?" Orkamemnon growled, "Kill him!"
The Black Ork ripped an angle grinder over Wenrael's throat and the Vanguard collapsed, blood fountaining from severed jugulars. Ajax's fury stirred at the affront, another Brother lost, another life claimed by the enemy. Rage drove his hand to close around Storms Wrath's hilt, even as his armour's Machine Spirit chimed a sacramental reset. Ajax rose to his feet with a howl of bloodlust, hurling himself at the Orks. His remaining Brothers were with him, charging the Greenskins with all their strength channelled into one last effort.
Orkamemnon saw him coming and lifted his Grot-prodder to block. The clash of weapons sounded in the nave, snarling and sparking as the Machine Spirits fought for supremacy. Ajax pulled back and slashed low, getting under the Warboss' guard, only for Chainteeth to shatter upon impenetrable pistons and plates. He did not relent, breaking off and swinging Storms Wrath's broken smile in a great sweep. One blow to the neck and he would take Orkamemnon's head, but the Warboss had had enough. He stepped into the blow as his fist let go of his weapon to smite Ajax with an uppercut that sent the Marine flying.
Ajax's ribs crumpled into shards as he hurtled away, lifted from his feet with no more effort than a tossed pebble. He slammed into a pillar and his turbines folded inwards, fouling his Jump Pack's exhausts. He slid down the wall and ended up in a heap, brown fluid puddling about his rear. Jet fuel, the supply canisters were breached and his jump pack was worthless. Ajax would fly no more.
In the nave the battle raged, Iagion and Brother Tormann fighting to hold against impossible odds. A backhanded blow from Orkamemnon sent Iagion tumbling away while Tormann went down to a trio of Black Orks. Lifesigns blinked out in Ajax's vision, another Brother lost, another life claimed by this fungal filth. Ajax's anger was beyond measure, and he rose to his feet with a cry of dark vehemence on his lips, "Die you ugly grot-fondling streak of piss!"
Orkamemnon moved to stop him but this time Ajax would not be stayed. All his strength, all his pain and anger was channelled into an overheard blow, as mighty a strike as he had ever made. Storms Wrath met Grot-Prodder again and the impact shook both weapons to the core. The Grot-Prodder's charge coils overloaded, the Chainteeth motor burned out, the strength of both weapons was shattered. Storms Warth exploded in his Ajax's hands, even as the Grot-Podder detonated in Orkamemonon's. A proud legacy unwritten, a noble spirit laid out in the dust. Ajax's sorrow was sharp indeed, but not as painful as the blast of energy that shredded his guts and sent him tumbling into another pillar.
Ajax's spine broke as a dreadful impact wrenched his back out of true. He lost all feeling in his legs, and his lungs clenched in torment. Damage alarums wailed in his ear, telling of ruinous damage to the armour's systems. His body was worse, he could feel the broken organs within, struggling to keep him alive. His head was swimming and his vision had purple spots floating in his eyes. He wrenched off his helm and vomited blood and acidic spit, his thoughts falling apart. Ajax could barely see but his blackened gauntlets told a terrible story: his weapon was as broken as his body. Defeat loomed large, a most bitter elixir indeed.
A heavy tread at his side as a Black Ork came near, "Where dat Crown?!"
A hand on his back, searching for the prize, but Orkamemnon stormed up, "Oi! Dat's mine!"
"Just gettin' it for ya boss!" Sorkrates protested.
"Dunt lies ta me, ya wants it, ya grubby mitts iz itching!"
"Nah, boss, it's me Sorkrates, ya know me!"
"Yeh I know ya, dats wot makes dis so eazy... POP!"
Sorkrates' head exploded, burst by a flicker of Waaagh energy. The Black Ork collapsed in a heap as Orkamemnon glared at his remaining minions. Ajax however wasn't paying attention. His spotty vision was still swimming but he made out a tiny object, laying in the shadow of a pillar. The Detonator-wand, miraculously intact. Ajax's body was screaming in torment but he dug his charred digits into the floor and heaved his crippled bulk nearer, his legs feeling like they would tear from his body and be left behind. So near, so far, every millimetre a belly-crawl across broken glass but Ajax would not relent, he would never give up.
His reaching hand closed about the tiny device and pulled it to him. It took all his remaining strength to roll onto his back but he forced himself over. The vaulted ceiling above greeted him, the fires of battle beyond the Sanctum shimmering in the stained-glass window. There was no way to reach it, no possibility of escape. Ajax knew this was his final battle, his story ended here. Four hundred years of blood and slaughter, wars beyond counting and it all came down to this. A broken cripple bleeding onto a priest's floor. He had expected no better. A delirious thought, Charael hadn't seen this coming, some small vindication before the end. Ajax thought of Lujan, left to pursue his fancies without a steadying voice to ground him. The Chapter would be poorer, but that was no longer Ajax's problem. Death waited as an old-friend long missed, Ajax would clasp those bony hands without regret and walk into the veils of eternity with his head held high.
"Wot you got dere little beaky?" Orkamemnon growled as he stepped nearer.
"Come and see," Ajax gargled through a mouthful of blood.
"Ya a hard berk, yah nearly had me. I makes yur death real slow and painful. Ya deserve it for messing with me grubbins!"
A ragged breath saw the Space Marine utter, "I am Ajax. I am the bloody hand of the Emperor. I am steel, I am doom! I am His Wrath!"
Ajax's thumb hit the trigger rune and the device was activated. Vox-waves coursed from the transmitter, reaching out to every mine buried in the Sanctum's structure. Arcane technoarcana was commanded to awaken and bring forth destruction, but nothing happened. The mines did not go off, the Sanctum remained intact, death was denied. Ajax's jaw fell as he jabbed the rune again and again but the wand was blocked, its spirit dampened by another. Orkamemnon's brow was coursing with Waaagh energy as he channelled psionic power, the genetic secrets of Mekboyz telling him how to block vox-waves. The Warboss had seen the trap and disarmed it with a thought. Ajax's last gambit had been for nothing. The stark enormity of failure was beyond comprehension, Ajax's defeat was total, he had nothing left.
Orkamemnon loomed over the broken Marine and chuckled, "Gud try, but tryin' ain't enough. I'z can't be killed by a brick ya brainless wazzock! Now I'z make yah hurt in ways no berk has ever hurt before. I'll have me crown, but first I'm gonna rip off all yah arms and legs and make ya watch me Boyz eat dem... den... den I'z gonna get real mean."