Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 25

They had been delayed again, it was infuriating, an outrage really but also unavoidable. Reddam gritted his teeth in frustration and his grip on the handlebars of his bike was so tight his knuckles turned white. The frosty mountain pricked at his exposed face but he ignored it, his attention fixed upon the lumbering bulk of the Deathstrike launcher.

The tracked vehicle was currently inching along a narrow road upon the mountain. To one side was a sheer wall, rising high, to the other a precipice that fell away in a jaw-dropping plunge. The Deathstrike was pressing hard up against the wall, scraping paint off its hull upon the rockface, but so narrow was the ledge that its left track was still sticking out a few inches over the drop. That was troubling enough but far more worrying was the wet rock, weak and unstable it was proving poor support for so weighty a machine.

Reddam heard a sharp crack and another lump of rock fell away, tumbling into the abyss below. The chattels surrounding the Deathstrike froze in shock and the driver's face went white with terror as the machine ground to a halt. But Nathanal ran up to the chattels shouting, "Don't just stand there you cretins! Get some more planks under those treads and put as much weight on the right side as you can to balance it!"

Reddam grimaced to himself and tried not to yell at them, knowing that the chattels couldn't possibly do any more than they were already doing. Still it was galling, for two days now they had been climbing into these mountains, taking the Deathstrike to the designated coordinates. Getting out of the base had been troubling enough, the squad forcibly clearing the route of witnesses so they could pass undetected, they had been harsh with those in their way but their orders were clear and Reddam had made sure nobody was actually killed.

Reddam had thought the hard part was over when they had reached the foothills but regrettably their troubles had only just begun. The road quickly turned into a muddy track, a narrow trail that switched back on itself repeatedly. The maps they had been given turned out to be hopelessly outdated, deviating wildly from reality, while unmapped forks kept trying to lead them astray. At one point the road had simply disappeared, forcing them to hack a route through thin pine woods until they had found the track again, several miles from where the charts said it would be. Reddam could have dealt with that, indeed his bike squad would hardly have been slowed, at all but the issues with the Deathstrike could not be ignored. It was a wide and ungainly machine, top-heavy and overloaded. The immense mass of the missile on its back made it sway over rough terrain like a sailing boat and every bump made it look like it was going to fall over. Its engine struggled to propel it up steep slopes and it left a trail a blind man could follow. The mortals weren't much better, wearied by two days without rest, they snatched naps on the hull where they could and were bleary from lack of sleep.

Vexed Reddam turned his eyes from the Deathstrike and looked outwards. He was currently sitting upon his bike, some way ahead of the missile system, where the road opened up again. From here he could see the stunning vistas of the mountains and the immense drop to a tiny ribbon of a river far below. Like a series of ridged steps the peaks descended, dropping into the valley of the city. He could see it all, the great dam and the shining reservoir it supported, the vast urban blight of the city, the rings of defences and the army moving to engulf it all. Reddam had seen some impressive things in his life; he had fought in the depths of space and across the surface of burning worlds. He had slit the throats of Traitor Marines under purple skies and driven across salt flats that covered whole continents, yet this sight would be one that stayed with him. The valley was filled with a homogenous mass of men, the rebel army in all its terrible majesty. A million men gathered in one place, a sight that would have loosened the bowels of any mortal. The idea that such an army could be defeated seemed laughable, yet that was exactly what Reddam was supposed to be doing.

Reddam saw Nathanal running back to his position and the mortal called, "We're ready!"

"Then what are you waiting for?" Reddam growled.

Nathanal nodded and waved the machine forward. With a faint rumble the Deathstrike began to inch along, the treads grinding as they stuck out over the drop. The chattels walked backwards, waving their hands to guide the machine as it moved. Rock and pebbles cascaded from beneath its weight, tumbling into the drop and the tip of the missile struck an overhanging protrusion, sheering off pebbles that clattered upon the hull like rain. The driver's face was a mask of terror but he did his duty and kept going. Then at last the Deathstrike was past the narrowest part and moved out into the welcome space of the wider road.

The mortals heaved sighs of relief as the missile was brought past the drop and swung to the side of the road and Reddam snarled, "Hurry up and get moving."

"Hold on," Nathanal said, "We had to unload a lot of weight, give us five minutes to reload."

"We don't have time for this," Reddam hissed, "We should have been at the launch site this morning."

Nathanal frowned and countered, "Won't do us much good if we get there and don't have any fuel to bless the missile. Five minutes, that's all we need."

Reddam sighed and sank back in his saddle as Nathanal waved the chattels to make haste. After a moment Nathanal turned back and said, "Quite a view isn't it?"

Reddam had nothing else to do so commented, "The rebel advance has begun, they will reach artillery range soon."

"Well yes, but I meant the mountains themselves," Nathanal replied, "Takes the breath away."

Reddam cocked his head and stated, "The terrain is rugged and the trees screen against aerial surveillance. A defensive force could hold off an attacker ten times its size here."

Nathanal scowled and uttered, "Are you being deliberately obtuse? I meant the aesthetic of the view, it's stunning."

"Oh," Reddam remarked, "I hadn't considered that."

Nathanal shook his head and said, "Decades living alongside Astartes and I still don't understand you. Have you no concept of beauty or of splendour?"

Reddam's sneered, "Your time standing alongside the Chapter Master has made you impudent, I would flagellate any other chattel for speaking so. But for your question, yes we do understand beauty, but it is secondary to martial concerns. Beauty is found in the edge of a fine blade, splendour is the sight of a banner held high in the midst of battle. We find perfection in the most elegant of kills, glory is to be found in the thick of the melee. War is what we are made for, nothing else stirs us so."

"I'm not sure your young charges would agree," Nathanal mused, "They seem a bit rough."

Reddam snorted loudly then said, "They have much to learn, and seem uninterested in doing so."

Nathanal asked with a frown, "Where are they anyway?"

Reddam explained, "Larus and Glord are guarding the rear, I sent Joffel and Kazao and Tebes on ahead to scout out our route. They should have been back by now, unless they are arguing again."

"Not gelling eh?" Nathanal inquired.

Wearily Reddam confessed, "Joffel can't stand to be around Kazao and his affliction. I had expected that shared danger would forge them into a unit but they refuse to see each other as comrades."

Nathanal sighed, "Maybe they're just a bad fit, sometimes people rub each other wrong."

Reddam was loath to admit it, it felt like failure but perhaps the mortal was right, bonds of Brotherhood could not be forced, they had to be forged in combat or not at all. Reddam was about to speak again but right then an echoing noise reverberated up the hills. It was a distant booming, repeated over and over, and it made heads turn to look about in confusion.

"Is that thunder?" Nathanal asked in confusion.

"No," Reddam snarled angrily, "That is artillery, the battle has begun!"

"Abaddon's balls!" Nathanal swore then shouted, "Right time's up, get that thing moving! No, I don't care about the scratches to the bloody paintwork, get moving now!"

Hastily the chattels leapt aboard the Deathstrike and it began to move once more. Reddam signalled the rearguard and a moment later Larus and Glord appeared, bouncing up the narrow pass. Glord called out, "What did we miss?"

Reddam started his engine and moved out as he replied, "Battle has started and we are behind schedule, we need to double-time!"

The bikes shot off, headed up the road as it climbed into the mountains, the sheer wall gave way to a steep slope while the drop off levelled out to become a thin pine wood. The air was tangy with the promise of frost but they weren't quite high enough yet to see snow. Thankfully they didn't have to reach the summit; their launch site was only about half-way up the slopes. Reddam gunned his engine and swept ahead of the Deathstrike, checking the road was clear. The way was smooth and unimpeded and he judged the machine could make good time on this surface, even with its straining engine.

He passed another undocumented fork in the road and then was brought up short as he spied their three Brothers coming back from the other direction. They all pulled up as the Sergeant called, "What kept you?"

Tebes spoke first, "We were scouting the route as ordered, the way to the launch site is clear."

Joffel broke in excitedly, "It's better than that, we found a short-cut!"

"Explain," Reddam barked impatiently.

Hastily Kazao elaborated, "The road takes several more turns but then it reaches a plateau, level ground all the way to the launch site. But if we go directly up the slope from here we can cut the time in half."

Reddam eyed the slope and said, "The Deathstrike will struggle over that terrain."

Joffel shook his head and countered, "It looks worse than it is, from the top it's obvious. Get it over that hump and were free and clear."

Reddam made a snap decision and said, "No time to argue, we will take the short-cut."

They waited a moment for the missile launcher to reach them and then waved it up the slope. The chattels looked concerned but Reddam was uncompromising and the machine moved on, grinding upwards on its tracks. Kazao took a moment to look out over the cliff and said, "That is a lot of rebels."

Larus glanced back and asked, "Can one missile really take out that many enemies? What's the blast range on a Vortex anyway?"

"Deathstrikes are revered relics for a reason," Reddam declared, "Trust me, they won't stand a chance."

There was a crunching noise from above and Reddam turned to see the missile launcher struggling to get over a bulge in the ground. For a heart-stopping moment he thought the engine lacked the power to clear it but then the nose got over the worst and the machine disappeared up the slope, vanishing behind a ridge.

"That's the worst bit," Kazao stated, "A clear run to the launch site now."

"Good," Reddam declared, "Let us…"

At that moment his auspex squawked loudly and Reddam's eyes snapped downward to see a trail of icons moving up behind them. They were in single file, following them up the trail and moving fast. Questions of how, why or whom, were shoved aside as Reddam reacted, spinning his back wheel around in a spray of mud and gravel to point his guns point back the way they had come. He held his thumb over the trigger for the bolters and yelled, "Ware, enemies behind!"

The squad followed suit, levelling a line of guns back down the road, preparing to greet these intruders with a blizzard of death. Yet what emerged before them was not what they expected. It was a sleek, rounded machine that hovered over the ground, propelled by two flanking engines on swivel mounts. It had a low hammerhead prow and a burst cannon hanging low, while two disc-like drones swivelled at each end. It was a Devilfish: the rebels had found them.