Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 87

The birth of a star was a wondrous thing to behold. In the eternal gloom of the Grim Pall nebula it blazed like a lighthouse, all scorching white light and fiery defiance against the stormy night. The young protostar was a brilliant white dot off the port bow, barely bigger than a thumb at this distance, but its dazzling light still cut through the darkness. Around the star an accretion disc was forming, clouds of gas spiralling into the newborn to add to its mass. Meanwhile a million asteroids clashed together and broke up, the first dance steps in a performance that would lead to planets forming.

Coluber considered the protostar through the hazed armourglass window of his personal quarters. Like his Chapter it was unformed and screaming with birth pains. Though the star had been ignited before Mankind even left its homeworld it was, by the scales of deep time, still a newborn and the metaphor was apt. Its final form had yet to be established and it could be anything, proud and brilliant, dark and forbidding, fiery and intemperate. All were possible and the future was an unwritten page.

Coluber stood for some time, looking at the star and the forbidding nebula that was its womb. The Masio Silentium seemed an odd place to find a protostellar nursery, but then they had seen many bizarre things over the last few weeks. Long before the first crude torch-ships had left the Sol system humanity had studied nebula from afar and wondered what beauty they hid, what wonders dwelled within those gossamer veils. Scholar-savants, lyricists and Astro-theologians had looked into the heavens and dreamt of the birth of worlds and fonts of life itself. The reality was about as far from those childish dreams as it was possible to get.

The Masio Silentium was an ugly place, as lovely as being at the bottom of a bucket of tar. The wider galaxy was obscured, leaving only shades of purple and green in all vectors. Gravitic anomalies shook the Amber Viper's ships at random, radiation surges lashed over scorched hulls, rogue asteroids veered into their path and lone atoms smashed into their shields ceaselessly. Progress had been slow, the flotilla unable to make jumps of more than a few light-years at a time, each translation a turbulent nightmare of crashing tides followed by laborious recalculations. Yes, the nebula was not a welcoming place, it was hostile to all life and that was only accounting for natural phenomena.

Over the last few weeks Coluber had seen increasing signs of some active malevolence in the nebula. Broken remnants of unidentifiable ships, cleaved in two like a surgeon's knife had vivisected them or dismantled and laid out piece by piece like some Chronometrist's timepiece. Hard-scrabble colonies and asteroid settlements, signs of some forlorn attempt to mine the region, had been scoured of life. The dig-sites left perfectly preserved, tools and all, but missing every single inhabitant. There had been strange Xenos monoliths left hanging in space, their makers completely unknown to Imperial lore and their purpose unclear. They didn't appear to be any form of space station or vessel, at least none Coluber understood, so perhaps they had been warning buoys or territorial markers or even installation art. There was no way to tell.

Coluber turned his eyes to examine his meagre flotilla. There wasn't much to it, a trio of mass-haulers fitted out as manufactorums, five frigates of unimpressive calibre, a blockade runner and the Wyvern. She was a light cruiser, a retrofitted Trade-Carrack repurposed to serve as the Chapter's home. Some three hundred Amber Vipers lived on board, more than Coluber had dreamed of at the start of his quest but less than he had hoped. Time was a fluid thing since the opening of the Cicatrix Maledictum but he reckoned they were about a third of the way into the first century of the Forty-Second millennium, maybe 030.M42 or 040.M42, either way time was running out. Coluber could feel it, the days were drawing in and he had to move faster or all would be lost.

His thoughts were interrupted by a chime at his door. He turned from his window and took in his quarters, roomy but surprisingly bare for a Chapter Master. There were the customary desk and workbench, his repaired armour hanging on a stand, Venom in a gilt-edged reliquary, a few cabinets laden with tomes and scrolls and a whirring cogitator in the corner. There was little in the way of personal accruements or possessions. Coluber had been trained in a far more austere environment than the younger Amber Vipers and had never acquired the taste for amenities they harboured, he didn't even like the taste of beer.

"Come!" Coluber declared and the door slid back to reveal a party of Astartes. They were clad in full-plate, those of Primus at least, but their faces were bare. Faces Coluber knew all too well. These souls had followed him into the unknown, faced terrible dangers and lost good friends together. They had been comrades in arms before the Amber Vipers existed, when they had marched in different colours. They were what remained of the Old Seventeen and they trooped in eagerly. There was one more soul, a mortal named Nathanal. He wasn't one of them but he knew what they knew, what the younger Amber Vipers could never know, so was included.

Coluber waited for the doors to close then stated, "My Brothers, it has been too long since we last spoke in private. It shames me that we have not gathered in many years but our duties are many. Still I must say…"

"Cut the fancy speech," a Sergeant called Infara snapped, "Let's get on with it."

Sergeant Reddam concurred, "I wouldn't put it so bluntly, but yes, let's cut to the quick."

Coluber didn't take umbrage, these souls had earned the right to speak freely. He said, "Ferrac's briefed you? Good. Then you know where we are going and why. I seek the graves of the Amber Vipers, the original Amber Vipers."

Reddam asked, "You're sure their bones lie ahead?"

Coluber replied, "As sure as can be, I have spent many years looking for any trace of them. Since the day we took up a dead man's name and cast off our old one. I have searched for their remains, trying to discover what happened to them and what was their character."

"What did you discover?" Ferrac asked from the back of the packed room.

Coluber sighed, "I could hardly march into the vaults of the Imperial Palace and demand the records. So I scoured Governor's libraries, had chattels sift through old mausoleums and chapels. Unfortunately most planets aren't concerned with anything other than their own affairs and references to the Amber Vipers were few and mostly crumbling. I found a list of battle honours, a commendation for valour in the Occlusiad war and a record of a recruitment world, now devoured by the Tyranid menace."

"You seem to have something more concrete than that now, so what changed?" Shrios enquired.

Coluber drew in a breath and said, "Our alliance with the Navigators of Chamandley gave me the resources I required to make a thorough search. I had to be circumspect, I could hardly tell them why I wanted it, but I finally found some hard information. A record of their participation in the Ghost Crusade."

He pulled three tomes out of a cabinet and laid them on his desk. He placed one hand on a book and said, "The Administraum's attention to trivial detail is astounding. This is a record of their resupply over Forgeworld Gryphonne IV. I can tell you exactly how many ration bars and self-sealing stem bolts they inloaded, but on the last page was a hand-written note that they stood at eight hundred and fifty-seven Marines strong."

"An impressive force," Ferrac commented, "Any mention of their Founding date or Primarch lineage?"

"None, I guess they predate the Age of Apostasy but that's only a gut feeling," Coluber admitted as he continued to the next book, "This is a record of their fleet disposition, one Battlebarge, displacing more than our entire flotilla combined. Seven Strike Cruisers of standard pattern, forty-three frigates and one mobile Fortress-Monastery."

Coluber saw the look in their eyes, the awe-inspiring potential such might represented. Reddam mused, "With such a fleet in our hands we would be a force to equal any other Chapter in the galaxy."

"Good luck reactivating them," Nathanal muttered, "I can tell you right now, we don't have the fuel or the crews to work all those vessels."

"Sadly I concluded the same, and I doubt we will get two shots at this," Coluber stated, "So my primary objective is this."

He opened the book and showed them a page. Etched on it was a detailed schematic of a Ramilies-class star fort, one of those great starfaring bastions of Imperial might. Reddam breathed, "Look at the size of that thing, one pier alone could dock our entire flotilla with room to spare."

"Imagine the arsenals inside," Nathanal gasped, "The vaults of power armour and fleets of tanks."

"Gene-seed repositories," Shrios pondered, "Laboritorums equipped to birth a thousand Space Marines."

"The Serpens Rex," Coluber declared, "The original Amber Viper's home and greatest asset. This is our primary objective, if we can retrieve this and nothing else it will be our most significant advance since Athelling. If we can't find it, or it's beyond salvaging, I'll settle for a Battlebarge or Strike Cruiser but I truly want the Serpens Rex."

Heads nodded but Reddam asked, "What's the third book?"

Coluber brushed the cover gently and intoned, "This was the greatest find. A volume of war philosophy and tactical doctrine they left on Gryphonne IV. It was penned by their Chief Librarian Maru Kysoto as a record of their beliefs and dogmas, a self-portrait if you will."

"What were they like?" Reddam pressed.

"Elegiac," Coluber said, "They loved rites and ceremonies, everything was very formal, every aspect of their lives was ritualised. They honed their craft to perfection, demanding absolute dedication to one aspect of war from birth to death. It's not like the Codex Astartes at all, they specialised each Marine to his role, rather than accepting generalisation. They had schools for bladework, shooting, command, piloting, you name it. They studied the martial traditions of every world they visited and adopted the best features into their doctrines, they thought there was always room for improvement. Above all they stressed courtesy and decorum in all things."

"Can't see them kicking back after a fight with a beer," Ferrac snorted producing a laugh from the room.

Coluber however continued, "Maru Kysoto waxed on about his Chapter Master, Tsumetai of the Hollow Fist. If this is to be believed, he was famous for fighting bare-handed, eschewing any weapons save his gauntlets. He defeated Chaos Champions and Eldar warlocks unarmed, using a fighting style they called 'The Way of the Lightning Fist'."

"Bare-fist fighting?" Shrios sniffed, "Pure Hyperbole. I'll believe that when I see it."

Yet Nathanal commented, "You sound like you admire them."

Coluber sighed, "There is much to admire in such a mind-set, a dedication to martial perfection and eschewing of material comfort that we have singularly failed to impose on our recruits. Maru Kysoto wrote: It is written that the Astartes know no fear but this is a half-truth. Passing in battle holds no fear for life and death are but binary states of being, neither one to be valued above the other. The Astartes greets his ending or survival with equal honour, accepting either outcome with unshakable dignity. Yet there are many types of death and some are lauded above others. The warrior's fear is a death with no meaning, one that serves no purpose and thus has no honour. Only in service to the Emperor can death be greeted without fear, for such an ending is the culmination of honour and grants meaning unto one's life. Seek thee a death in service to the Emperor and your life will have been lived with purpose."

"Well they sound like a fun bunch," Reddam snorted, "I think we can leave that book behind."

"We don't need long-winded philosophy to fight a war," Ferrac concurred, "Give me an axe-rake and a full magazine and I'll win the day for you."

Shrios concurred, "I agree, let's keep mission this simple. Get in, get the loot, get out."

Heads nodded in agreement but Coluber was vexed, "This is exactly what I want to put a stop to, this slovenly attitude! The younger Brothers don't know any better but we do, we remember what it was to be a real Chapter. Have we forgotten the pride and dignity of the Adeptus Astartes, the codes of honour? What are we teaching our recruits save lax and mercenary behaviour? When we die we leave behind a bunch of scruffy ruffians, who don't even know what they should be aspiring to! No, we must have the Serpens Rex not only for its material worth but for what it represents: pride, dignity, loyalty. It will be a beacon to guide the Chapter after we are gone, a legacy worthy of the Astartes."

Heads bowed in contrition and Reddam intoned, "We offer humble apologies Chapter Master. You are right; standards have slipped too far, even with the Cerberii to keep them in line we are still falling short of the goal."

Shrios admitted, "We've done the best we can, but we're at our limit. Materially and spiritually we can't grow any further plodding along as we have been. We need a better base of operations, a worthy one."

Silence reigned for a moment then Coluber declared, "Then we are of one mind. The Chapter will penetrate the Masio Silentium and find the Serpens Rex."

Yet Ferrac commented, "We're still a long way away and I don't trust Schwift one jot. He's too slick and cunning, plus no matter how much he showers he still stinks of imprisonment."

Nathanal added, "These jumps are taking a toll on our ships, one bad translation and we lose everything."

Coluber permitted, "Perhaps a scouting party is justified. I will send a single squad ahead in our blockade runner to reconnoitre the route."

Suddenly Reddam barked, "My squad volunteers!"

Coluber solemnly ordered, "So shall it be. Take our fastest ship and see what's ahead Reddam. Light our path and we will follow, but keep a sharp eye out. We still don't know what lies at the heart of the Masio Silentium and I judge the nebula will not let us snatch its prize so easily."

With that the meeting broke up and the crowd departed. Coluber waited for them to depart then turned back to the window and gazed at the protostar, musing upon life and death and which one awaited them in the days to come.