Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 84

Coluber's ribs ached with the hot burn of his Transhuman body knitting itself back together. His head was throbbing and a bitter taste was in his mouth, the iron tang of blood lurking in his throat. His armour was hardly any better, the breastplate was cracked and the rad-counter was clicking steadily. Not lethal levels for a mortal but none too healthy either and they weren't even near the battlefield.

Leagues from the valley the Imperial forces regrouped, gathering together to count their losses and laurels. They had to meet here for the battlefield was a toxic wasteland, forever tainted by alchemic brews and radioactive fallout. On a patch of bare earth drop-ships were loading, filling with victorious Amber Vipers. Aquila landers and Arvus lighters collected infantry while a massive Agantyr drop-ship swallowed the tanks one by one. Secundus cohort was mostly absent, running down fleeing Orks. Tertius Cohort was with them, the Snakelet-scouts held in reserve to catch stragglers. The third generation of Amber Vipers was young but they'd survived their baptism of fire. Meanwhile the Knights were standing some way off, isolated from the Astartes, which was not a good sign.

Coluber turned slowly and asked of the three Astartes behind him, "How many did we lose?"

"Between Primus and Secundus, twenty-three Brothers," answered Shrios, a snide and callous Apothecary who played no small part in the creation of the various poisons the Chapter employed.

"A costly victory," Coluber lamented

"But a worthwhile one," Battle-Captain Ferrac rejoined.

Ferrac was a brutal warrior, scarred and battered by war. His brow and cheeks were covered by an iron mask, etched with snake motifs, making him appear a feral champion from some savage Deathworld. His axe-rake was missing many teeth and his sledgehammer gun rattled empty while his jump pack steamed from overuse. Ferrac was a harsh Master, exacting in expectation and profligate with the lives of his Marines but there was no soul fiercer or more loyal.

Shrios snorted, "Worthy? Tell that to the dead."

Ferrac however proclaimed, "We saved a Knight world, from an Orc Waaagh no less. This is the most significant victory the Amber Vipers have won since the Time of Exodus. Forget quashing rebellions, forget pirate suppressions, salvaging derelicts and petty deals with Planetary Governors. Every victory combined, does not equal the strategic significance of a Knight world. We are at long last fighting as an Astartes Chapter should."

"Not that they'll thank us, arrogant curs," Shrios scoffed.

"So long as they hold to our pact and send our promised resupply it does not matter," Coluber demurred, "Let us consider our gains. We have perfected our stratagems and tactics as a more aggressive force. Our third generation has been blooded and proven themselves worthy recruits, in time they shall join the ranks of Primus and Secundus. Our gene-seed stockpile is replenished and our mechanical might also grows, our war machines performed flawlessly. Truly they are remarkable in spirit and in form."

"Would that we had a few more tanks," Ferrac muttered, "I could have used them on the hilltops."

"Alas, our chattel-artisans struggle to awaken them," Coluber lamented, "Our logistics remain threadbare and our manufacturing capacity scant."

"We're already at our limit," Shrios interjected, "Three hundred Astartes are a hungry force to equip, soon petty deals and mercenary bargains won't sustain us. We're outgrowing our skins, soon we must shed our scales."

"A growing problem, yet a few more victories like this will aid our reputation greatly. Though I admit I was not expecting the Cerberii," Coluber confessed.

All eyes slid to the silent third member of their party. A black-clad Astartes with a bloody handprint over his helm. He was the only one still wearing his helmet and in his hands was a Fission-blaster and at his hip was a crystal knife, in place of the customary Fang. This was Kregulf, Claviger of the Cerberii, keeper of the Gate of Perdition and a condemned rebel.

Kregulf's voice was grim as he stated, "The situation warranted our intervention."

Coluber countered, "I'm not sure our allies would agree."

"That is not their decision to make," Kregulf affirmed, "I alone judge if a threat justifies opening our vaults and this was such a battle. Kimdaria could not be allowed to fall, lest the Imperium lose the whole sector."

"And Verdin Ridge wasn't?" Shrios muttered, citing a recent, bloody battle.

"No," Kregulf uttered, "Threats to the Chapter alone are not enough, the peril must endanger the wider Imperium. I would see you all die before risking my charges' taint escaping my stewardship."

"Nice to know," Ferrac snorted, "Yet I still wonder how you activated those Cadmus Robots."

It was a pressing question but Kregulf deflected, "I must return to my watch, I dislike leaving the Gates with only two guards. By your leave."

Kregulf turned and strode away as Shrios muttered, "I don't know what you were thinking, making those disgraced wretches into prison guards."

"They serve their purpose, as do the Brother-Exemplars," Coluber explained, "One order inspires, the other threatens. Discipline has improved and I have only had to add another three to the order since their inception."

Ferrac quipped, "I don't know what they do behind those doors but they've got the snakelets pissing themselves. The mewling babes foul their britches every time someone mentions them."

Coluber chuckled at the jest but Shrios did not. His face remained grim and Coluber asked, "What is wrong?"

Shrios sighed, "I didn't want to say this before Kregulf, but the casualties, one of them was Nuros."

"No," Coluber breathed in distress for he was one of the Old Seventeen. A survivor of the Time of Exodus and one of the founders of the Chapter.

Ferrac spat, "Fang-Rot, what do we call ourselves now: The Old Sixteen?"

"You'll note I'm not laughing," Coluber growled, "How did he die?"

"Defiantly," Shrios lamented, "Took three Orks down with him before the end."

"Come, we must perform the Rite of the Dead," Coluber declared.

The trio hastened away to where the honoured dead lay. Gaggles of squadmates and comrades were gathered around each body, taking items of personal value or practical worth. Some small, others significant, but everyone took something. Such rituals bound the Chapter in spirit, forging bonds that lasted lifetimes. Coluber could scarcely believe the time had come to perform the Rite for one of the Old Seventeen. Nuros had been there since the rebirth of the Amber Vipers, they all had, as recruits rose and fell. All Astartes were fated to die in battle but somehow that knowledge had become theoretical, to lose a comrade of so many years was a shock. It seemed bizarre, to have Nuros endure so much only to die so suddenly. Coluber was struck by the knowledge that the day would come when all the Old Seventeen were gone and the Amber Vipers would be without any living memory of the glory a Chapter should be. There would be no star to steer by and he could only trust the legacy he left would be a noble one.

On the cold ground Nuros lay, his body pierced by many blows. His squad stepped back in respect and Coluber looked upon his old comrade and felt woe in his hearts but his lips fell into the ritual words, "Nuros, you died as you lived: with a cold heart and a fast blade. You gave your life ensuring our flame endured, now your death too shall stoke the fire, one last time."

With that epithet Coluber knelt and took a small Carnodon tooth from Nuros' belt, a trophy hard-won in another life. Ferrac took a jewelled dagger and Shrios unclipped a gauntlet, holding it up to compare to his own worn plate. With the Rite complete they stood and Coluber felt the passing of an age begin, the inevitable turn of history bearing down on him.

"At least he lived to see the Chapter become stronger than we could ever have dreamed at the start," Ferrac sighed.

"Our age is passing," Coluber mourned, "But there is still much to do. We cannot linger, I must speak to the Duke."

With heavy hearts they left the bodies behind and walked away. Coluber felt the weight of his decisions weighing down upon him but he kept his head high and his brow steady. He could not look defeated in front of his Brothers, they needed to see him as the unbreakable Lord, confident of victory and clear of purpose. So he put the death behind him, marching with a firm step. Together the party departed from their ranks and moved towards the looming silhouette of the Knights, among them Duke Vertus.

Arrayed in a circle were two dozen Knight Engines, all that remained of House Mortan. It was distressing to see a noble Knight House diminished so badly and yet Coluber knew from this seed they could rebuild. New sons would be born, virgin steeds commissioned from nearby Forgeworlds and fresh laurels would be won. In time House Mortan would rise once more, charging to glory across the galaxy in the Emperor's name. It was only thanks to the Amber Vipers this was possible, a fine laurel for their records, yet it hadn't been entirely altruistic on Coluber's part.

Standing at the foot of a Knight Paladin was Duke Vertus, with a gaggle of Sacristans and lesser nobles. The Duke was a bald man, haggard and worn by strife and desperate battle. He shivered from withdrawal, his human flesh longing for blessed communion with his steed. Yet about him was an ineffable air of the Machine, the posture of his stance, the set of his jaw and the cast of his eye spoke of strength, fury and rigid honour. Truly the Throne Mechanicum has left its mark on this man.

Vertus saw them coming and muttered, "Oh, it's you."

Coluber's jaw tightened at the dismissive greeting but he forced himself to say, "Hail Duke Vertus, I offer salutations on this triumphant day."

Vertus sniffed, "I don't see what's so fine about it."

Shrios interrupted, "Watch your tone, you address a victorious Chapter Master."

Vertus grimaced as he hissed, "The Code Chivalric requires me to offer my thanks for killing Wurd'eye, so thanks. Now get off my planet."

"Somebody piss in your wattle bottle?" Ferrac growled.

"You dare insult a Duke on his own planet?!" Vertus snapped.

Sensing trouble Coluber lifted a brow to enquire, "You sent out the cry for reinforcements, did you not require our aid?"

Vertus growled, "If I'd known what filth you brought with you I'd have shot you out of orbit. The entire Delphanic valley is poisoned, we'll have to evacuate good lands for hundred leagues in all directions."

That pricked his hearts but Coluber kept his cool as he remarked, "Better that than to let the Orks claim everything. Better to lose a valley than a planet."

"Easy for you to say," Vertus growled, "You will return to the stars and not look back. I have lost the majority of my House. Many widows wail and sons mourn lost fathers. The peasant stock is depleted and my Knights reduced. The Orks left me with ruins and I don't even have a head to place over my fireplace."

"Oh, I see," Ferrac sneered, "You're hacked off because you didn't get to claim Wurd'eyes head."

"He was mine!" Vertus growled, "He invaded my world, ravaged my people! I swore sacred oaths to claim his worthless life and now I am left to round up his scraps. All because you swanned in and claimed the glory of the kill!"

Coluber knew the Duke had good reason to be angry, matters of glory and honour were most serious things to a Knight, to any warrior. Yet he would not make an enemy of a Knight House and demurred, "My friend I make no such claims. The Ork had me on the edge, until you intervened. It was only thanks to your heroic intervention that Wurd'eye turned his back. I would be honoured to share the glory of the kill."

It was a magnanimous gesture, but Vertus sneered, "Don't try to grease my palms, I'm not a man for turning by soft words. You cut the head off, the kill is yours. So take your glories and begone."

Coluber stiffened as he retorted, "What of our accord?"

"I gave my word and I keep it. Resupply shuttles are being lifted to your flotilla as we speak. Fuel, munitions, rations and press-ganged peasants will be delivered as we agreed. Strange though, I've never heard of any Astartes expecting recompense for their services before."

Coluber nodded in acceptance but then he queried, "And the other thing?"

Ferrac started, "What other things?!"

"Later," Coluber hushed him, "Vertus?"

The Duke rubbed his chin and sighed, "It is a strange boon you crave. You're sure about this, the Grim Pall nebula is perilous enough but what you seek is madness."

"Yet I seek it," Coluber declared boldly.

Vertus shook his head and cautioned, "I would not let any man pursue this course without fair warning. The nebula is dangerous, it favours only the brave and the bold but the Masio Silentium at its heart is something else. Nobody ventured there, not even the most reckless Freeblade. Too many colonies have gone missing, too many convoys disappear, whole crusades have simply vanished into those haunted depths. Even Xenos can not escape its eclipse, an entire Waaagh once disappeared into that sucking maw. My ancestors declared that region Perdita and commanded all to steer well clear, but every century the veil of silence advances a little further. The spread of empty colonies and missing ships grows a little larger. Do not do this."

"I must, I have no other choice," Coluber confessed.

"Well if you must chase ghosts then you will need a guide who knows those shadowed paths. The only one who can steer you a safe course, you will find him a prisoner in my Keep. I grant you permission to retrieve him, then depart as fast as you can and never darken Kimdaria's orbits again."

Coluber nodded to the Duke and said, "My thanks and eternal friendship."

They turned away and walked off but Coluber's sharp ears heard Vertus muttering, "Good riddance, miserable thieving bastards."

As they marched away Ferrac asked, "What is this matter?"

Shrios added, "Aye, what are you scheming?"

But Coluber kept walking as he assured them, "All in good time, I have a lead to explore first. But trust me when I say this will change everything."