Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 241
Vendrick's maul shattered the skull of a construct, but the two behind pressed forward, trying to impale him with stabbing spears. He blocked one with his vambrace and let the other screech off his pauldron, leaving a gouge over the Chapter icon. In response he slammed his Maul's head into a torso, driving it back a pace, the other he greeted with a kick to the groin, causing it to stagger. He could not afford to let them regroup so he swung hard right, slamming one construct to the ground, then drove his left elbow into the side of a domed head, cracking the surface. They reeled and he finished them off with a pair of heavy blows to the spine, leaving them cracked and broken.
Vendrick was already moving, bounding over the broken forms to race up the street. Dhulak was positioned ahead, laying down covering fire while Belphian tackled another automaton trying to engage from the rear. The Censors were hard-pressed but that was as nothing compared to what followed behind. An army of constructs gave chase, hot on their heels and dogged in pursuit. Since they fought their way out of the culvert it had been thus, the trio racing for all they were worth to stay ahead of the vengeful mob, but each random encounter on the streets cost them precious time.
"I'm down to twenty percent ammo!" Dhulak called.
"Disengage and advance," Vendrick commanded, "Belphain stay with him!"
"We're not finished here yet!" the Son of Medusa protested.
"I'll handle it, go!"
The pair broke off and moved towards the elusive signal, so close and yet so far. But before they could flee a half-dozen automatons closed in, trying to cut them off. Too many for Vendrick to beat with his maul, there was only one way through this. His pistol came up and he pulled the trigger, sending a precious Chronoflux round into the nearest construct. Temporal fields scythed out from the impact site, flensing the automaton in four-dimensions, tearing it asunder with raw time. It fell into pieces but more pressed on, determined to grapple with the Censors. Vendrick pulled the trigger again and again, blowing each away with a single shot, each round cost more than a world's ransom, but he was out of options.
In moments the junction was clear and he raced on, pressing after his comrades. He swiftly outpaced them and ran for all he was worth, leading them towards the source of the signal. His Censoria was plain that this was the way, but also that the numbers behind were increasing. Motion auspex told of enemies beyond counting to the rear, and they were closing fast. Hythraal had to be among them, there was no way he would be willing to let the Censors go. Time was almost up.
"I'm not sure we can reach the objective and then make the Thunderhawk before the sun sets," Dhulak spat as they ran.
"We won't fail," Vendrick hissed.
"If we do, then it was an honour serving with you."
"Save the morbid talk, we won't fail!" Vendrick snarled.
"They might have something to say about that!" Belphian called.
Ahead another junction awaited, this one filled with a mob of guards. They waited in still poses, but Vendrick didn't doubt they'd turn on him as soon as he came in range. The signal source was here, his Censoria was certain of it, but he could see no origin point. There, a short stack of stairs leading to nothing. He wanted to question it, he wanted to assess the situation, but every second lost brought the prospect of failure that much closer, he had no time to think, only to attack.
"Charge!" he roared as they ran. Dhulak let fly firing from the hip, it did little for his accuracy but a broad sweep of rounds hammered the closest constructs, forcing them back a step. Vendrick followed that up with pinpoint shots, putting Chronoflux rounds into the line of waiting figures. The sound of shattering crystal rang loud as Vendrick emptied his clip, wasting irreplaceable shots, but culling a significant chunk of the guards. No time to reload, only to slam his pistol to his hip, an instant before they met hand-to-hand.
The automatons came at him in a wall of tightly pressed forms, artificial hands reaching, swords and spears stabbing. Vendrick dialled up his Apothex as he swung his maul wide, feeling painful stabs carve along his veins. He was abusing the tolerances of his implants but the surge in speed saw him evade the incoming strikes and land the first blow. The struck construct reeled, cracked badly all over but Vendrick had no time to finish it off.
Automatons pressed in from all sides, their weapons stabbing and hacking at his plate. The Censor could no longer tell one from another, their blank faces blurring as his vision smeared. All was madness and motion, arms and legs thrashing at him as swords scored his plate. Vendrick did not fall though, hitting back with all his fury. He had come too far, suffered too much to admit defeat now, so he fought back as a wild animal, crashing his maul into bland bodies, punching and headbutting a path forward. He let go of reason and calculation, relying on the feral heart of mankind, pure savagery driving him forward. So many enemies, so many blows ringing on his plate, to move was impossible, to stand was a dream and yet he fought on. Sheer stubborn refusal to admit the possibility of defeat all that was keeping him on his feet.
A blow to the head made him stagger, a cut to the back of the knee swayed him, then they were on him. Vendrick felt Diceramite barely holding death at bay, his blood coating the blades of many foes, his end was seconds away, but then suddenly there was a cessation. The enemy paused, drawn away by another threat. Vendrick rallied instantly, lashing out left and right to clear room, bashing them away to get his feet stable. An instant to see what was going on, a flash of burnished chrome through the ranks of the foe and he beheld Belphian in the throes of carnage.
The Censor drove into the heart of the mob, lashing out with fists and boots. He moved like a whirlwind, his speed phenomenal, his strength insane. The Censor had lost his weapons but so enraged was he that he cared not. He crushed skulls with his bare hands, he shattered legs with brutal kicks and cracked spines with his elbows. He tore into the automatons like a threshing machine, breaking all within reach. Nothing could stand against him, anything that dared he broke. His power was awe-inspiring, but such might demanded a dreadful cost.
"Belphain!" Vendrick called.
"Complete the mission, I'll clear the way!" Belphian yelled.
Vendrick could only answer back, "Make the Gorgon of Medusa proud!"
"Frak Ferrus Manus, I do this for…"
Too much. The Apothex had burned too hot and for too long. Belphian's blood boiled, his arteries ruptured and his organs burst. Strange chemical mixes disgorged into his flesh in ratios never meant to occur. Haemoglobin reacted to the cocktail with energetic distress, conjoining into even stranger forms. Skin and bone ignited, exotic elements reacted and Belphian came apart in a fiery explosion. A blast of light and heat swept the crowd, added to by shards of Diceramite and Xeno metals embedded in his skeleton. Belphian tore himself apart in a blaze of glory, blowing automatons off their feet far and wide.
Vendrick felt the blast wave wash over him but was already moving. Into the headwind he charged blind, confronting the battering with stumbling steps. He slipped on prone foes, his boots finding purchase to be slippery and inexact but he did not fall, he dared not. Towards the elusive signal, it was the only thing in his mind. Blinded by savage light, deafened by its aftereffects, he could only stumble on till his foot slipped on a steep stair and he fell forward.
Silence, a sudden cessation of noise and thunder. Vendrick thought for an instant he was dead, but then hands grabbed him and rolled him over. Vendrick nearly lashed out but then his sight returned and he found Dhulak leaning over him, dragging him along a golden tunnel. No hint of how they got here, no clue as to where they were, but they'd found a moment of respite.
"Get off me," Vendrick barked as he jerked himself to a sitting position.
"I got separated," Dhulak said, "Where's Belphian?"
"Dead," Vendrick hissed, "He sacrificed himself to give us a chance to get through."
"May he feast at the Emperor's Table," Dhulak intoned.
"Mourn later, report your ammo count."
"Last drum," Dhulak said, "And you?"
"Two clips," Vendrick admitted as he got to his feet and reloaded.
"Let us trust that is enough."
"It has to be," Vendrick asserted as he set off down the tunnel.
No idea where they were, no sign of what this place was, though the Censors had access to information enough to guess. Vendrick wasted no time on speculation though, they were either minutes from success or failure, no idle musings would impact that either way. So the last pair of Censors ran, chasing their elusive goal, yearning to reach the end of this accursed mission. So much had been lost, so many lives spent, it had to succeed. Vendrick could countenance no other outcome, he would not allow it.
Into a broad sphere of space they emerged, finding themselves in a graveyard only to be confronted by their betrayers. Smoke Jaguars, spinning around with bolters drawn. They were further out and upwards of the Censors, yet standing upright like the wall was a floor. Athra J'rect was with them, grinning slyly, plainly happy his deceit had paid off.
Vendrick ignored that as he strode towards them, "Filthy renegades!"
Vitcos moved to the fore, "A mirror you see, your own sins illuminated!"
"Betrayers, cowards, craven-hearted lickspittles!"
Tachna stepped forward, his pale face grim, "Explain this deceit, explain the Legion of the Damned!"
"It does not concern you," Vendrick hissed, "The time to pay for your crimes is at hand!"
"Eleven we count to two," Vitcos snorted, "Prevail you will not."
"I have enough Chronoflux rounds for you all!" Vendrick snapped.
"Actually," Athra interjected, "You might want to save those for what comes next."
An echo ran into the chamber, the sound of many boots striking as one. Vendrick spun on his heel only to find more Automatons pouring from the tunnel they had entered from, racing to catch up. Not just the guards, far more than just them. Hythraal led his army into battle and with him came the full might of Calan Gaeav. Once more the Webway would be a battlefield and as before it would prove the grave of Censors.