Legends of the Smoke Jaguars chapter 215

Somewhere, Somewhen

Ajax's life had become a blur of battle and cryo-sleep, conflicts of the most desperate nature separated by years, even decades, of icy slumber. Each time he went into the freezing methalon gases he hoped he would not awaken, but his sleep would be disturbed sooner or later. The calls of war were always dire, the need for his strength urgent and Ajax had never been able to deny a Brother in distress. That need to be needed kept him going as the decades rolled by, so when the call came once more he dragged his weary mind back into the land of the living.

From the freezing gases he strode, wisps of vapour clinging to his limbs. The Techmarines had gifted him with the rarest chassis they owned, a relic Contemptor, whose like could not be forged in this lesser age. Tall and proud he was, his sensor dome set in a barrel chest and his glacis impenetrable. An atomantic field generator hummed on his back and his legs carried him far with each step. His right arm was a multi-barrelled Kheres pattern assault cannon, with which he'd reaped thousands of Heretics and his left was a mighty power fist, a wrecking ball that had smote Daemon Engines and breached fortress walls. Ajax was an army unto himself and so brooked little patience with the sentiments of others.

"WHAT IS IT THIS TIME?" Ajax demanded.

"Honourable Dreadnought," a Techmarine praised, "We give thanks to the Omnissiah for your awakening. Let us first anoint you with sacred unguents and then..."

"SKIP THE DOGGREL AND GET TO THE POINT!"

The diminutive figure took a step back, "Ancient one, the rites must be observed."

"I DON'T KNOW YOU, YOU WEREN'T EVEN AN APPRENTICE WHEN LAST I WOKE. FIND SOMEONE WITH THE AUTHORITY TO DEPLOY ME TO BATTLE, OR I'LL MARCH TO THE HANGERS AND JUMP ON THE FIRST GUNSHIP I FIND!"

The Techmarine stepped back in shock but a new figure strode into view calling, "Impatient as ever Ajax!"

The Dreadnought's sensorium picked out a marine in resplendent armour, marching into the Cryo-vault with his face exposed. His plate was festooned with glories, campaign badges and purity seals. A helm on one hip was painted with golden laurels but the other held an all-too-familiar blade: the Sword of Thiel. Ajax understood what that meant, the former bearer had died, Chapter Master Lujan was dead. Yet even that revelation paled to the shock of this one's name.

"IAGION?" Ajax rumbled, "WHAT THE FRAK ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

His old comrade smiled around an impressive collection of scars, "I thought it best you saw a familiar face when you awoke."

"SAVE ME THE INSPID BLEATING AND EXPLAIN WHY YOU ARE PRETENDING TO BE A CAPTAIN."

"First Captain, in fact," Iagion corrected.

"YOU, FIRST CAPTAIN? WHO THE HELL WOULD PUT YOU IN CHARGE OF A SERF-RECLEMATION TEAM?!"

Iagion chuckled, "Turns out if you live long enough, and chalk up enough victories, they just hand you the position."

Ajax paused for a moment, "HOW LONG THIS TIME?"

Iagion sighed, "Over a century since you last awoke."

"WE WERE FIGHTING THE NIGHT LORDS, ALONGSIDE THE SMOKE JAGUARS. I WAS DAMAGED."

"Correct, and we won that one, though you barely made it back to the forges."

"AND LUJAN?"

"He survived too, for thirty more years, then he died purging a Daemonic incursion on Angle's Rest. He passed this blade to me with his dying breath."

"CHARAEL BETTER HAVE A DAMNED GOOD EXCUSE HOW HE ALLOWED LUJAN TO DIE."

"Charael's dead too, four years ago on Crusade. There's only Dreadnought Brothers left who remember our Founding now."

Ajax was stumped, Charael was dead, his most bitter rival and font of all he despised. As long as he could remember they'd been bickering over the correct path for the Chapter, now their furious arguments were a thing of the past. Ajax wouldn't say he disliked the idea and yet he realised he would miss Charael. Like a tooth torn from the gum the absence would always be noticeable.

Ajax sighed, "I AM THE LAST MAN STANDING: VICTORIOUS AT THE END."

"Yes well," Iagion coughed, "I'm afraid it's all gone a bit... political."

"TELL ME WE'VE DUMPED THE EMPEROR WORSHIP NOW CHARAEL'S DEAD."

"Not a chance, his cult is well-enmeshed. Our third Chapter Master is a devout believer, and he..."

"THIRD, WHAT HAPPENED TO NUMBER TWO?"

"Oh of course... you slept through the whole debacle... suffice to say he did not lead us well and died poorly. A new Chapter Master has been appointed and he needs your wisdom to chart a better course."

"THEN WE HAVE NO TIME FOR CHATTER, TAKE ME TO THIS NEW MASTER."

Ajax set forth, feet stomping on the hard surface like hammers falling on anvils. He liked the aura of power it leant him, and pretended not to notice the slack jaws of lay-adepts and tech-serfs as he passed. Up a long ramp they strode, to the interior workings of the Storm Herald's Forge, then he trod a familiar path to the great doors that led out to the island bastion proper. Beyond lay a Grand Processional, where the war machines would be paraded on their going to war, but outside the open doors awaited a formal gathering.

Ajax's Sensorium swept the rigid ranks and counted two Companies worth of Brothers, all lined in straight rows with bolters held upright. A worthy reception indeed, but at the fore awaited three he did not recognise. One in glorious heraldry, a Chapter Master's relic plate by the quality of the armour. Next to him was a dark figure in a skull-helm, a High Chaplain if Ajax was any judge. The last was the most curious, a Tech-priest, in a voluminous red robe.

As they emerged the lord called, "Honourable Ajax, I am Chapter Master Hectad, and I welcome your sage counsel."

"SAVE THE PLEASANTRIES, TELL ME WHERE THE BATTLE IS."

The Chaplain spoke up, "It is not for war we summoned thee but for guidance. We have suffered crippling losses and need your wisdom."

"AND WHO ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO BE?"

"High Chaplain Errius, and in the name of the Divine Emperor we..."

"SHUT YOUR MEWLING HOLE AND TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON!"

Hectad blinked, "Ajax, you shall not speak to a holy Chaplain with such disrespect!"

"DO NOT LECTURE ME CHILD, I WAS KILLING HERETICS CENTURIES BEFORE YOU WERE BORN. IAGION: YOU EXPLAIN THIS FARCE BEFORE I LOSE MY TEMPER!"

Iagion shot a smug glance at Chaplain Errius and elaborated, "The last two decades have seen grievous losses reduce our Companies. A series of holy wars and Ecclesiarchal Crusades have drained our numbers terribly. Losses cannot be replaced fast enough; our squads wither on the vine. These two hundred Brothers are all that remains of our fighting strength and we stand on the brink of dissolution. We have returned to our Fortress-Monastery to rebuild, to recover our losses, but... some seek a more radical option."

The Tech-priest spoke then, "Praiseworthy machine, your stature is a credit to your forges and your artifice is hallowed by the Omnissiah. Know that I am Famulous Anazon, and I bring you glad tidings from the Lazarus Progression. Adept Lazar has monitored your Chapter's distress and offers you his expertise in recovering your losses. All the boons of our knowledge await you, but some on this island are proving stubborn."

Ajax sneered, "AND YOU WISH ME TO GIVE MY APPROVAL?!"

The cowled head nodded, "It seems only your word will convince these naysayers to accept help when offered."

"I HAVE NO WORDS SAVE THESE: GET THIS FILTHY HERETIC THE HELL OF MY ISLAND!"

"I... what?!" Anazon started.

Hectad stiffened, "Honourable Ajax, this adept is my guest!"

"HE'S A FAMULOUS, A LYING SERPENT-TONGUED DECIEVER! I KNOW HIS KIND AND THEY ARE NOT TO BE TRUSTED. DO YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW ABOUT LAZAR AND HIS CENSOR PROJECT, HOLLOWING OUT GOOD SPACE MARINES AND FILLING THEM WITH ABOMINATIONS FROM THE DARK AGE OF TECHNOLOGY?! LUJAN WAS FOOL TO MAKE PACT WITH A MADMAN LIKE LAZAR, AND IT SEEMS HIS FOLLY HAS MULTIPIED OVER TIME!"

Anazon protested, "We offer rapid induction techniques, accelerated zygote replication, multi-spectral augurs and enhanced armour interfaces!"

"TAKE YOUR TRINKETS AND BEGONE, WE HAVE NO NEED OF THEM!"

Errius shot Iagion a filthy glance, "You knew he'd be against this, you set us up!"

But Ajax cut in, "DO NOT THINK I AM NOT AGGREVIED WITH IAGION TOO. YOU HAVE ALL BECOME IDIOTS IN MY ABSENCE."

Now Iagion scowled, "You weren't there."

Ajax growled back, "A TRAVESTY THAT I WASN'T. HOLY WARS, CRUSADES ON BEHALF OF FAT PRIESTS, YOU HAVE BEEN PISSING AWAY OUR STRENGTH IN SHAM OFFENSIVES AND WORTHLESS DISPLAYS OF PRIDE! WE SERVE NOT THE ECCELSIARCHY, WE SERVE HIM ON TERRA ALONE. A MARTIAL BROTHERHOOD ARE WE; OUR CRAFT IS WAR AND OUR DEVOTION TALLIED BY THE NUMBER OF SLAIN FOES. YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN THIS, YOU HAVE MADE CANNON FODDER OF SPACE MARINES AND WASTED BROTHER'S LIVES ON POINTLESS CRUSADES. THIS ENDS NOW; I WILL SHOW YOU HOW WARS SHOULD BE FOUGHT!"

"You do not wish to wait and replenish our numbers?" Hectad blinked.

"NO SPACE MARINE WORTHY OF THE NAME CAN BE FORGED IN PEACE, ONLY IN WORTHY BATTLE CAN OUR STEEL BE HAMMERED FREE OF IMPURITY. BRING FORTH YOUR SQUADS AND I SHALL LEAD THEM TO RIGHTEOUS COMBAT, WHERE WE SHALL RELEARN THE MEANING OF BEING ADEPTUS ASTARTES!"

Hectad looked sick as he said, "If we continue our campaign it may be the end of the Storm Heralds."

"THEN YOU CHILDREN BETTER LEARN FAST. IAGION, ASSEMBLE THE RANKS."

Iagion smiled broadly and mustered out the side of his mouth, "You'll like this bit."

"LIKE WHAT?"

Iagion slammed his fist to his chest and shouted, "We are the Emperor's Storm!"

Two hundred hands smacked bolter stocks as the Grand Processional rang with the cry, "We are His Wrath!"