Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 83
Coluber could scarcely believe it. His jaw hung slackly as shock ran through him. He had given no order for the Order of the Cerberii to deploy, but then they didn't need one. They were an order apart from the Amber Vipers, a punishment detail charged with safeguarding the vilest weapons in the Chapter's arsenal. Only they could decide if a foe merited the total destruction their weapons could unleash. Not even Coluber could command them to open those vaults, that was the whole point of them. Only twice in the last three years had they deployed and each time they had left salted earth in their wake, toxic wastelands where none dared tread.
The Cerberii fell from high orbit streaming flames from their craft. Doombringer it was named, an Iapetus class anti-grav hauler, refitted for combat. The doughty craft was thickly armoured and many turrets hung from its sides and roof, heavy bolters and las-talons creating a web of defence. Yet those were mere toys compared to the cargo within, the toxic weapons denied to any save those who bore the mark of the Bloody Hand.
As Coluber watched the black craft spread its wings and from them rippled waves of rockets. Fat missiles dove for the ground, their casings inscribed with warnings and portents of doom. The Orks barely noticed the craft, so consumed were they by the fight, but they were cruelly surprised as the ordnance detonated over their heads. From the shells showered a deluge of toxic bile, lethal concoctions of poisonous sludge, burning acids and radioactive filaments. The first Orks hit were doused in corrosive acids and dissolved into screaming puddles of gore, even their tough hides unable to withstand the alchemic brews. Those further out died less quickly, lungs rotting and eyeballs dribbling from withering skulls.
Across the battlefield the Orks drew back, shocked by the vile nature of the carnage. Orks live to fight, revelling in the hot rush of combat, but this was enough to give even them pause. Black veins began to worm across the skin of Orks nearby as hard radiation swept the valley and limbs trembled for the first time in their short lives as cellular membranes came under attack. Even flying above the field on Drakones Coluber felt the foul touch of rads, triggering his Melachromic implant and he hurriedly fitted his helm, sealing himself off from outside air.
His vision hazed for a moment as his autosenses calibrated, then the world snapped into focus, accompanied by the blaring alerts of environmental hazards and the clicking of his rad counter. He looked about and saw a great series of craters had been punched into the mass of the horde, blackened pits of festering malignancy that not even Orks dared cross.
He sternly ordered, "Stay away from that."
"You don't have to tell me," muttered Brother Rinda as he steered Drakones around the edges of the Greenskin horde.
The battle atop the hilltops still raged and the Knights of the second wave fought on, but the Orks were bewildered and confused, unable to focus properly on one foe. Into that mass Doombringer fell, Heavy bolters sweeping clear a landing site. Landing claws extended and under the extended cockpit a ramp lowered, allowing the passengers within to disembark. Coluber saw five Astartes in black march down the ramp, each bearing a bloodied hand upon their faceplates. In their arms lay cumbersome rifles, that leaked wicked red light. Behind them lumbered three Battle-automata, Cadmus Robots, twice the height of a Space Marine and fitted with larger versions of the weapons. Fission-blasters they were called, a debased version of plasma weapons, as hostile to the wielder as the target.
The Orks turned to meet this fresh intrusion, faces filling with bestial rage as they ran for the small party. Yet the Cerberii did not lift their voices in challenge. With silent disdain for the foe, they lifted their weapons and opened fire. Searing red blasts of crackling lethality slammed into the Ork horde, punching clean through greenskin bodies and burrowing into the packed masses behind. Orks fell with steaming holes in their chests, missing heads and limbs as ravaging blasts sundered flesh and leather armour. The Cerberii targeted the mass of troops while the Cadmus robots destroyed trukks and looted tanks, smashing through armour plate like it was tissue paper. Coluber had no idea how the Cerberii had reactivated those Battle-Automata but their might was undeniable, mowing down Greenskins left, right and centre.
The Orks reeled from the onslaught, unable to match the firepower set against them. As the barrage continued the background radiation grew worse and worse. Each shot leaving behind lingering rads, shimmering particles of radioactive fallout that polluted flesh and bone. Already the battlefield was awash with toxic contamination, sickening the Orks and making them falter and still the Cerberii fired, not relenting in their vehement hate for the Xenos. Their Order's mandate was clear, they only deployed when a foe warranted total extermination and they would not quit the field until every enemy was slain.
Coluber was troubled by the vileness they unleashed, even though their kind had been his idea, their use of dishonourable weapons left a bad taste in his mouth. Yet he could not deny the Cerberii were rending the foe into nothing, their foul weapons too much to withstand. This was why their order existed, to do what the Amber Vipers could not and should not do. They embraced dishonour so others would not have to. Quietly he whispered, "Oh inglorious bearers of woe and the bloodied hand, bestow your wrath upon the unrighteous enemies of man. Sully not your Brothers with the sin of your passing and deliver the judgement the enemy so richly deserves."
"Orders?" queried Seyda from beside him. Coluber looked over the battlefield and saw the Orks reeling, dismayed and confused by the sudden assault. They did not know whether to turn and risk the toxic death in their midst or press on towards the apex of the hill and seek the battle that yet raged there. But further back the War-stage of Wurd'eye still loomed, blazing with etheric energies. Even as he watched the few surviving Knights pressed forward, struggling to meet the warboss and end him but it was a forlorn struggle, doomed to fail.
"Take me to the boss!" Coluber shouted. Instantly Drakones veered, skimming fast over the horde in an erratic course. Bullets flashed on the Frost-field and a Vulture gunship screamed overhead, chin turret blazing as Drakones slipped by. The mobs blurred as they disappeared under its chassis but Coluber only had eyes for Wurd'eye, determined to end this foe.
Coluber gripped Venom in one hand as they dodged to and fro, evading the worst of the incoming fire. Ork gunners along the edges of the War-stage saw him coming and swung their weapons to bear, filling the air with lead but between the speed of Drakones and the Frost-field the craft emerged unscathed. The war-stage loomed in Coluber's eyes and then suddenly they were over its bulk, right alongside the crackling brass orbs.
Coluber jerked forward as Drakones decelerated, coming to a relative halt. Instantly Coluber and his bodyguards were moving, leaping clear to drop to the deck. A wave of coldness swept over him as they passed through the Frost-field and then his boots touched down. A roar overhead signalled Drakones racing off, veering away to rejoin the battle but Coluber had no time to watch for the Orks were upon them. Barely had his boots hit the decking when a wave of filthy Greenskins raced at the trio, covered in stinking leathers and clutching brutal cleavers and knives. They abandoned the side guns to grapple with the boarders, relishing the battle in their midst.
Coluber met the first with a sweep of Venom that opened it from neck to naval and tore off the arm of the next to come at him. More barrelled in, threatening to overwhelm him but he fell back, sweeping Venom in great arcs that chopped off arms and disembowelled savage Xenos. Suddenly he sensed empty space behind him and knew he had reached the side of the war-stage, one more step would see him plummet to the ground rolling under them. He readied himself to stand and fight to the death but suddenly Seyda was before him, Burst-lance blurring as he struck. With wild yells the Brother-Exemplars placed themselves into the path of the Orks as Vardat shouted, "We'll hold them off, go get Wurd'eye!"
Coluber wasted no time on futile denials, turning and running for the rear of the stage. He galloped past crackling brass orbs, lightning arcing over his head in dazzling flashes. A moment later he pulled up at the rear, finding himself confronting the biggest Ork he'd ever seen. Wurd'eye was taller than a Space Marine and broader than a Dreadnought with arms that seemed to lack the dense muscle of the typical Ork but replaced brute force with whiplash speed. One fist held a sceptre made of mismatched junk and the other swung a spiked ball on a length of chain. His head was crowned by brass spikes, that shimmered with Waaagh energy and his eyes were glowing with green potential, raw force spilling out like an overflowing bucket.
Wurd'eye turned to face him and snarled, "Little bug!" A flash of green power erupted from his brow, forming a blast that would incinerate Coluber. Yet as it closed his Null Collar pulsated with arcane might, rebuffing the psychic blast effortlessly. Green energy shot away, earthing amid the horde and killing a score of Orks running alongside the war-stage. In response Coluber snatched up his Volkite pistol and unleashed a blast of ravening power. Yet Wurd'eye had protection of his own and the beam spilled off a shimmering shield, like oil on water.
"Blade to blade then," Coluber hissed as he spun Venom around his hand.
"No one beats Wurd'eye, I iz da hand of Mork!" the Boss bellowed.
"Cold hearts," Coluber intoned as he raised Venom before his eyes, "And fast blades."
Wurd'eye charged, racing headlong at Coluber in a mad rush. The Ork rampaged like an Ambull, unstoppable mass careening at Coluber so fast it was hard to believe. Wurd'eye swung his sceptre overhead, intending to smash the Astartes into mush, yet Coluber was no longer there. At the last instant he threw himself aside, dodging the charge and as he did so Venom flickered, lashing out at eye-watering speed. Wurd'eye's hand was sliced neatly off, sceptre and all, to crash to the deck and roll over the side of the stage.
"Me hand! Iz kill ya for dat!" Wurd'eye bellowed as he swung his chained mace horizontally. Coluber nearly lost his head as the chain whirled about and he only just avoided decapitation by ducking low. Insanely fast the chain came back at him, forcing him to leap aside, then jump back again. On and on the Ork came, swinging the chain about itself with dazzling speed. Coluber was forced to retreat, falling back aghast at the warboss' velocity. Orks were immensely strong and brutal but Wurd'eye's speed was incredible, a whirlwind of blows that left no room for a counter. Coluber couldn't even see an opening, unable to close through the lashing whip of steel that surrounded the Ork.
He felt the battle turning against him and changed tactics, trying to angle Venom into the path of the chain. One clean hit could sever the links and leave Wurd'eye unarmed but the Ork saw the move coming. A snigger was all the warning Coluber got as the Ork jerked its arm and suddenly the spiked head flew past his guard, sailing around Venom to slam into his chest. A force like a freight train smashed into Coluber, cracking Ceramite and breaking his genhanced ribs. Stars flashed behind his eyes and he tasted blood in his mouth as the Ork landed a blow that would have shattered a Rhino's hull.
Coluber staggered back, chest bursting with agony. He felt his right lung filling with blood as shattered ribs dug in and his multi-lung inflated to keep him alive. Wurd'eye leered as he pulled back for the finishing blow and Coluber knew it was death. He readied his soul for the final moment, preparing to attempt one last blow before the end came but before he could move the war-stage shook under his boots, reeling like an aquatic boat on an ocean swell.
Both leaders staggered as the stage rocked and Coluber's head snapped about to behold a wonder. A towering Knight loomed over the ramshackle machine, Duke Vertus' steed, with Reaper blade spinning. It has been his strike that had rocked the war-stage and he drew back his arm for another blow, bringing it down on the arcane brass orbs with a vox-blare of vengeful fury. Brass shattered under the blow, tearing apart and spilling green energies in all direction. Duke Vertus roared mechanically as he drew back for another strike, intending to rip the war-stage in two and it seemed nothing could stop him.
Wurd'eye raged at the damage done to his chariot, waving his arms in the air as he roared, "Oi! Get off me stage! Dat's mine!" Coluber saw the Ork's moment of distraction and surged into action. His ribs screamed in protest and his breath gurgled in his throat but he ignored the agony and forced himself to move. He hurled himself at Wurd'eye, bringing up Venom to strike. The warboss spied his action and turned to meet him but it was too late. Coluber leapt high and swept Venom's edge for the neck as he cried, "Ave Imperator!"
The shining edge of the relic sword met the Ork's neck and sliced clean through, parting head from shoulders. One sweep of the blade and Wurd'eye was done for, the warboss' reign of terror cut short. The Ork's head crashed to the deck and a second later the body followed, toppling like a chopped tree. The eldritch light in his eyes flared one last time, as if seeking to cling to life, but then it guttered out and faded to nothing.
As it did so the whole war-stage shuddered, discharging energy in all directions as it's Master died. A thunderous clamour arose, then suddenly green power blasted outwards in all directions, knocking Orks from their feet and tossing trukks aside like leaves. Even Duke Vertus' Knight rocked on its feet as the heart of the horde was thrown to the ground, left stunned and bewildered by the unexpected blast.
Coluber spied opportunity unfold, the chance to end the threat once and for all and he opened his vox to proclaim, "Brothers the hour is at hand, the Xenos are broken and weak! Slay them all, leave none alive!" And with that the true culling of the Orks began.