Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 36
His hearts beat loudly in his ears, filling the silence with the excited rumble of his pulse. His eyes were bleary from endless squinting under harsh lighting and his lips were dry and cracked from hours spent without quenching his thirst. For many hours had he been hunched over his workbench, fiddling with minute connections and soldering tools, yet despite that his hands were steady and did not tremble as he made adjustments. His name was Kerubim and his labours were about to pay off.
Kerubim was sitting in a broad forge-fane, filled with devices and arcane items. There were tool benches and forged ingots of rare metal stacked in mathematically perfect rows. Along one wall a thermal stove kept a cauldron of molten metal bubbling eternally, filling the air with noxious fumes. Many of the benches in the place were filled with half-finished devices, their casings removed to expose the incomplete work within. The walls had been covered in idle scribblings, sketches, notes, half-finished prayers that trailed off into nothing and a single massive cog, haloing a human skull. A floating cyber-skull drifted around the ceiling, spraying incense at predetermined intervals and playing Binaric psalms on a continual loop. One whole wall was an armourglass viewport, gazing into the stars but it drew no attention, the fane's sole occupant consumed by his labour. The whole room belonged to a brilliant but unfocused mind, one that was continually distracted by the next idea that blazed into his head.
Currently Kerubim was working over a mass of wires, tubes, circuits and small glassic containers. It was spread out before him on a bench and he was stooped over the mess, applying a sparking tool to the circuitry one point at a time. In the glassic balls grey neural tissue quivered under his ministrations, the organic material bound into the apparatus as part of its processing systems. Kerubim had spent hours on this component and it was nearly finished, all he needed to do was install it.
Kerubim applied one last touch to the circuits and was at last satisfied. He set down his tool and straightened up, wincing as his muscles cramped in protest. Upright he was revealed to be a Space Marine, one with few scars for one of his breed. He looked young and inexperienced, a sword fresh from the coals of the forge and yet to be hammered on the anvil of battle. His face was unmarred, his hair was light brown and his eyes clear and sharp. Yet one of his shoulders bore the brand of a serpent wrapped around a goblet and the other a skull-in-cog device that proclaimed him a tech-adept.
Kerubim spent long seconds easing his bulging muscles, pulling his arms across his body in the prescribed katas indoctrinated into every Astartes. Once he was satisfied his body was replenished he looked down at his work and smiled. This neural cortex was his finest work and he had personally forged every connection and extracted the neural tissue from the brains of captive Heretics, no cloned tissue for the Amber Vipers, who lacked the facilities to vat-grow human tissue. Kerubim gingerly eased his hands under the mass of wires and containers and lifted it, then stepped slowly across the forge-fane.
He made his way past the various benches and also an alcove where a suit of power armour stood on a stand, its amber colours tinted with a vibrant red. He passed this by without a glance as he stepped carefully to the corner, where a bipedal machine awaited him. It was hunchbacked in form, with backward jointed legs and had splayed claws for feet, complete with wicked talons. Its arms were long clusters of barrels, able to spin rapidly and under them hung energised blades that protruded beyond the ends. A melta-gun stood proud on its back and its head hung low, with two bulbous visual sensors set on either side, giving it an insectoid appearance. Its shell was painted amber but that in no way disguised its nature or origin. It was a hunter-killer of the Legio Cybernetica, a branch of the Adeptus Mechanicus dedicated to producing and controlling war robots: a Vorax automaton.
Kerubim tentatively moved up to the Vorax's side, where a large open panel on its flank allowed access to its mechanisms. He reached inside and deposited his handiwork in a shallow bowl, then began fitting connections to various ports set around the edges. It was a meticulous work but Kerubim's hands moved with practised speed, as if they had done this many times before and in mere minutes he had finished the assembly. Kerubim stepped back and wiped the grease off his hands as he surveyed the Vorax top to tail.
Kerubim turned to pick up an incense brazier and lit it, letting sacred smoke rise into the air. Then he took up a silver wrench and dipped it in holy grease before approaching the machine, he lifted it high and struck the casing crying, "Omnissiah, bless this shell with your Motive Force!" He stepped back and picked up an arc-welder and applied it to the casing as he uttered, "Omnissiah, fill this shell with your sacred knowledge!" Finally he took up a silver ewer and poured sacred unguents into the joints as he intoned, "Omnissiah, guide this shell to war, so it may smite your enemies!" The Ritual of Awakening completed Kerubim laid down his tools and reached inside the machine, flicking over a small switch marked, 'ON/OFF'.
He closed the casing and stepped back, waiting for the results to emerge. The Vorax was still for a moment, then it began to hum with a low rumble of stirring machinery. Its optical lenses twitched, whirring in and out as its limbs slowly began to move. The head moved from side to side as the machine swept the room, then it saw Kerubim and its weapon arms began to rise to target him.
"Bane: relent!" Kerubim barked. The machine froze at the command, locked into immobility and Kerubim smiled, his labours had paid off. He stepped to one side, exposing the room and commanded, "Bane: seek and destroy."
The Vorax's optical lenses twitched upwards, seeking out the skull-probe which was still continuing its circling in blissful ignorance. The pair of rotor cannons jerked upwards and fixed on the small device, tracking it perfectly as the barrels spun. There was a sharp, click, click, click, as it tried to fire but its ammo hoppers rung empty for it had not been loaded. The Vorax growled mechanically in frustration and its melta gun rose, but it too was not armed so the hunter-killer was unable to complete its order. A distressed wail of Binaric arose but Kerubim commanded, "Bane: cease."
The Vorax stopped its efforts but Kerubim was elated, his experiment had succeeded. Happily he moved to stand beside the Vorax and ran his hands over the casing, soothing the Machine Spirit and patting its long limbs as he said, "Good, good, you did very well. Voice command is working and we have achieved thirty percent increase in reaction times, even more than I had hoped for. What a good killer you'll be, we'll show those Heretics a thing or two, yes we will."
His mantra was abruptly interrupted as a mortal voice called, "Are you talking to that blessed device like it is a Mastiff, again?"
Kerubim started in surprise, not least because his genhanced senses should have let him know someone was there. The Vorax however jerked forwards, rotor cannons spinning as it growled threateningly at the intruder. The cannons whirred rapidly but Kerubim hissed, "Bane: relent!"
The Vorax froze in position, helpless to resist the order as the intruder entered the forge-fane. Kerubim sighed as he beheld a mortal clad in rough overalls; his hands were grubby and on his shoulder was a brand of a spiral in a starburst. He was shorter than Kerubim and frailer, the Space Marine could kill him with one hand, but the Transhuman lowered his head in submission to the man for this was his teacher and mentor. Nathanal was the leader of the Amber Viper's artisan-chattels and the most learned of them all in ways of matters technical and the mysteries of the Omnissiah. He was also coaching Kerubim and two others in the ways of the Cult Mechanicus, in the hopes that the three of them could one day serve as the Amber Viper's first Techmarines. Yet judging from Nathanal's expression that day was far away.
Nathanal strode inside the Forge-fane and declared, "So this is what you've been doing, playing with that Vorax when you should be working."
"Bane," Kerubim replied sullenly, "His name is Bane."
Nathanal shook his head and said, "It has a unit designation, bestowed by the Omnissiah upon its commissioning. Your insistence on anthropomorphizing your charges is a distraction from the Quest for Knowledge."
"But I've improved him!" Kerubim protested.
"Improvement is one step from innovation, which is one step from invention," Nathanal rebuked sternly, "It is written in the catechisms of Mars, 'All that can be known is already known'. To diverge from doctrine is to blaspheme against the Machine God. I assigned you to repair those power regulators, so why are they strewn all over the benches?"
Even though he was being admonished by a man half his size Kerubim looked at his feet and muttered, "I got distracted, there was no challenge in the work. Any artisan could consecrate those units."
Nathanal pinched his nose and said, "Kerubim… you are quite possibly the most brilliant of my students, you pick up matters technical with ease but you lack dedication. I gave you this Forge-fane, I even gave you that Vorax to teach you what I could not, but you still leave projects half-finished and wander away on strange tangents. You must learn to focus on the task at hand."
"Yes Nathanal," Kerubim replied wearily.
Nathanal shook his head and said, "Well, let's see what you have done with your time."
The artisan moved to examine Bane and eyed the various patches and repairs as he muttered, "The repairs seem adequate, the frame is whole and the mechanisms restored. Voice control is working I presume… yes… good. I see you stripped out the lightning gun, smart move, we can't repair it. A Melta-gun is far more utilitarian and adds some anti-armour punch. Did you recite the Chant of Awakening as laid down by Scotti the Enginseer?"
"Of course," Kerubim retorted.
Nathanal nodded and said, "Well this is good work, if only you could bring this talent to the projects I assign, rather than doing what you please."
"I needed a challenge," Kerubim confessed.
"A challenge?" Nathanal mused, "Very well, let us see what you make of this."
He clapped his hands and a servitor trudged in, pulling a bier upon which was laid a suit of power armour. Kerubim was intrigued and moved to examine it, noting the torn ceramite and fused power cabling. The suit was battered, beaten and gored through the belly by two ragged gashes that he could fit his hand inside. The poor state of the armour appalled him, not least because such suits were irreplaceable. The Amber Vipers had barely enough to outfit half a company, most of which were assigned to Primus Cohort. His own armour was a generous concession, granted to him so his hard won knowledge would not be lost to some stray las-shot.
Kerubim picked up a multi-spectrum augur from a bench and ran it over the armour as he muttered, "Extensive damage from some bladed weapon, I can patch that up, but the rents over the chest are beyond repair. There's something else, the power conduits are damaged… this isn't new either."
Nathanal nodded as he explained, "Ferrac's plate has been overheating for some time. We can't fix it with the materials we have at hand."
Kerubim nearly dropped his augur in surprise as he exclaimed, "Ferrac?! The Battle-Captain? He is the most glorious and lauded hero of the Chapter!"
Nathanal muttered, "The most bloodthirsty more like, if he had his way this Chapter would bleed itself to death in a year."
Kerubim mused, "Still, to fight under him would be an honour. Some say he will lead the Chapter one day, when Coluber passes."
Nathanal scoffed, "That's another distraction, focus on the task at hand. The pirates are beaten; the fleet is moving in to strip that pile of junk they called a drift for everything it's worth. I have to supervise the salvage teams and press-gangs, but Ferrac is impatient. Can you fix this armour for me?"
Kerubim swelled at the honour given to him and said, "I can fix the rents and bless the armour, I may even be able to reinforce the insulation on those cables, but the breastplate is ruined. It needs a replacement from the derelict suits."
Nathanal sucked on his teeth, for their supply of spare suits was dire; the few armours they hadn't managed to restore had been stripped-mined to keep the others going. Established Chapters could forge their own gear or had pacts with Mechanicus Forgeworlds, but the Amber Vipers were not so blessed, lacking facilities and considered little better than renegades. Each remaining armour piece was jealously guarded and once they were exhausted there would be no more available. Kerubim waited as Nathanal weighed the matter but the mortal eventually conceded, "If there's no other option… do it."
Kerubim grinned at the prospect of working on so lauded an armour and said, "Right away."
Yet Nathanal held up a hand and said, "No, first you finish the power regulators, then you can work on the suit. I want all these units sanctified before you touch Ceramite. Now, I have fifty places I need to be, so get to work."
Nathanal turned and walked out of the forge-fane, leaving Kerubim behind. The tech-adept glanced at the piles of devices lying dissembled on the various benches and sighed loudly in frustration. He wanted to work on Ferrac's armour immediately but knew he had to finish what he had started. He glanced at the Vorax robot and muttered, "Well Bane… looks like we have a long night ahead of us. Better get started."