Tales of the Amber Viper 107

The stellar system was littered with the drifting hulks of dead ships. Vessels from every starfaring race of the galaxy left broken and bleeding in the void. They spun in the empty void as monuments to failure and trickery, each one a victim of the Necron's might. Some had been lured here by turncoats, some had wandered through the Dolmen-gates on their own initiative and others had been seized on the far side of the galaxy and dragged here unwillingly. It mattered not, all were silent tombs now, forgotten by all. Save for one.

Among the wandering corpses the Peregrine edged between wrecks, lingering in their shadows for many hours before dashing to the next cover and the next. The blockade runner had been advancing this way since the attack on the Amber Viper's flotilla, inching further into the Necron's domain. Her crew had forsaken her great speed for secrecy, trusting the tiny vessel would pass unnoticed among the dead hulks. So far it seemed to be working, they had seen no sign of Necron vessels so assumed the Undying had not detected them. Either that or they judged the blockade runner so insignificant that it wasn't worth destroying.

On her bridge Glord was staring into a surveyor screen and reported, "That energy spike is increasing again."

"It's been doing that for hours," Sergeant Reddam mused from the Command Dais, "I wonder what it's for?"

Glord's eyes rose to the Hololith and he beheld the Dyson Sphere. It was a vast creation, encircling the whole star in a matrix of black stone. The lines and nodes described a sphere of blackness, drinking in the star's power and doing Emperor-alone knew what with it. Glord had heard of marvels of human engineering, rings that encircled worlds and Fortresses that stood proud among the stars, but this edifice put them all to shame. The Necrons were privy to secret lore beyond the finest human minds and nothing in the Imperium could match this feat.

Giving vent to his frustrations Glord sighed, "What exactly are we expected to do against that?"

Reddam kept his eyes on the Hololith as he retorted, "Whatever we can."

"But we have nothing that could even scratch the surface, nothing human-made compares to this."

Now Reddam's eyes turned to glare at him and he snapped, "Do not compare the majesty of human engineering to Xenos trickery. This abomination is big but everything has a weak point, we just have to find it."

Glord rolled his eyes and retorted, "Quit playing at being Chaplain, we both know you're thinking the same thing."

Reddam deflated as he admitted, "True, but keep quiet in front of the Chattels, we don't want to scare them."

Glord glanced at the bevvy of mortals attending the cramped bridge stations, they seemed nervous and they had good reason to be. They had seen the power of the Necrons first-hand and were well aware that the Peregrine couldn't survive one volley from the Xenos. As if that wasn't bad enough they had left the rest of the Chapter behind, poking around a derelict starfort, as they headed straight into the Carnodon's den. Provoking the enemy to react.

Glord stepped closer and muttered softly, "Do you think Kazao's still alive?"

Reddam sighed, "We can only trust that he is and the others too. We won't abandon them, not while there's a chance to save them."

Glord glanced at the displays and remarked, "That thing is several times the size of an inhabitable world. How are we planning to find a dozen Brothers in all that?"

"I don't know," Reddam confessed, "We must try though, to do otherwise is unthinkable. We'll look for anything strange or out of place. If I know one thing about our Chapter it's that we excel at stirring up trouble."

Glord nodded in agreement and said, "In that case I'd better check on the others."

"Go make sure they're ready to launch at a moment's notice," Reddam confirmed then lifted his voice to order, "Let's get a better look at that energy flare. There's a hulk three degrees off the starboard bow, give me a ten-second burst from the manoeuvring thrusters and take us into its shadow."

Glord left the bridge and made his way down into the Peregrine. He passed various Chattels tending to the ship's systems, still repairing the collateral damage suffered in the attack. Sweating Enginseers applied sparking tools to open panels while senior lay-preachers waved smoking braziers and chanted aloud from leather bounds tomes of Binaric psalms. Glord left them to it, not interrupting their sacred mysteries as he descended ramps and slid down crew ladders. The Peregrine wasn't a large ship and he soon made his way to the primary launch bay, where he found the rest of the squad observing the lone Cerberii tending to his dropship, Doombringer.

He slid along the hanger wall to stand alongside Tebes, Joffel and Larus and asked, "What's happening?"

Tebes replied, "The Cerberii is making preparations."

Glord saw the lone form of Berio, the Cerberii who had joined their mission. He was a grim figure, his power armour blackened head to toe. Not ceremonially painted as a Chaplain's would be but scorched black by the tainted weapons he wielded. Only two motes of colour stood out on his form, a bloody handprint over his faceplate and the Chapter's icon of a snake wrapped around a goblet, detailed in livid red.

He loomed over the squad in his plate but was dwarfed by the Cadmus-robot. The battle-automaton stood head and shoulders over the largest Astartes, with piston legs and arms that bore weighty Fission-Blasters. Its head was armoured by an overhanging cowl and the round form of its sensor-dome boasted multiple eye lenses. The robot was working to shove piles of debris up the ramp of Doombringer, using its immense strength to pack metal shards and dead bodies into its cargo bay.

Glord frowned as he asked, "Why are they doing that?"

Larus sniffed, "Berio said something about making preparations for the coming fight."

"By stuffing broken metal and corpses into his dropship?"

Joffel scoffed, "Who knows why they do anything, the Cerberii are disgraced and mad."

Glord shuddered at the thought and hissed, "Better to die cleanly than live in disgrace."

Tebes was staring at the robot and commented, "Is it just me or is Brontes looking annoyed?"

"Brontes?" Glord asked in confusion.

"The Cadmus-robot, I overheard Berio referring to it that way."

Joffel rolled his eyes and muttered, "Fang-rot, they're naming the damned things now."

Larus sniffed, "What else would they do: call them robot?"

Glord stared at the Cadmus-robot and whispered, "I've never liked those things, I always think it's watching us. Like its thinking something behind those glass eyes."

Tebes snorted in disdain, "You are being foolish, it is a machine no more no less. It cannot think anything, it merely obeys commands and acts according to preset protocols. It is no different to the Battle-automata of Mars."

"Except these weren't made on Mars," Glord rebuked, "Don't forget the Chapter found these things on Athelling, along with the tainted weapons of the Cerberii. We don't know who made them or why. We have no idea how the Cerberii reactivated them. Who knows what goes on beyond the Gates of Perdition?"

Tebes fell silent but Joffel deflected, "I care little for automatons, but that drop-ship is something else." All eyes turned to Doombringer and examined its form. Glord had never been so close to the Cerberii's dedicated transport and he peered at its strange silhouette. It was essentially a rounded box with wings, a squared fuselage fitted with downswept wings, engines at the back and a pointed cockpit perching high over a front-ramp into the cargo bay. Built from STC lore it was an Iapetus anti-grav hauler, a civilian orbital lifter intended to drag cargo from the dirt to the void and back. But like most things in the Imperium it had been repurposed to serve a military function.

The underside had been fitted with four twin-linked heavy bolters, to clear out landing zones. The dorsal side had four las-talon turrets, two to a side, to fend off roving aircraft. Chaff launchers and auspex baffles lurked along the flanks and the downswept wings bore various strange missiles and fat warheads Glord didn't recognise. It bore no dorsal Turbolaser, as a Thunderhawk would boast, but it did bear a pair of Heavy Laser Destroyers tucked under its wings, another STC the Amber Vipers had acquired and employed.

Glord summed up his assessment, "It's slower than a Thunderhawk but extremely well-armoured."

Tebes nodded in agreement, "It could fly through a flak storm and barely notice. Shrugging off ordnance that would down a gunship and keep on flying."

Joffel snorted, "Good job too, because I'd wager it handles like a brick."

Yet Larus argued, "With this we may have a chance to penetrate the Necron's outer defences. Plus we know not what special tricks the Cerberii have fitted it with."

Glord eyed his Brothers slyly then declared, "I claim the right to pilot it!"

"What?!" Joffel started, "No I want to fly it!"

Larus snapped, "If anyone is flying it, I am."

Glord grinned slightly as he quipped, "Too late, I claimed the right first. You lot can work the turrets."

Joffel retorted, "You're a gunner, what do you know about flying?"

"Just as much as you do," Glord teased.

Their argument was cut short as Tebes interjected, "May I remind you we have lost Brothers to save, this is a serious mission."

"We know," Joffel sighed, "But at least let us take our minds off the danger ahead."

Glord concurred, "We're contemplating flying this brick into a Necron tomb… allow us a morsel of respite from your solemnity."

Their conversation was interrupted as Berio marched over. The Cerberii seemed vexed as he snapped, "Instead of lounging about chatting you lot could be helping me load."

Everybody stiffened and Joffel retorted, "You speak to us, you disgraced renegade?!"

Berio didn't seem admonished as he snarled, "I speak to whom I will. I don't serve you or the chain of command. I answer only to the Claviger. Be more respectful lest our order decides to select you to join our ranks."

That shut everybody up and Glord swallowed a glut of trepidation as he stammered, "We meant no disrespect."

"Yes you did," Berio growled, "But your scorn is irrelevant, we are already shamed and your tongues are nothing when set against that. Now make yourselves useful or go away and stop distracting me."

Everybody stood straight and made to assist but suddenly Reddam burst in, running into the hanger as fast as he could. The Sergeant seemed in great haste as he yelled, "Make ready to launch!"

Everybody started and Glord cried, "What is it?!"

Reddam replied hastily, "That energy spike we've been monitoring, it's started flashing on and off like a tap-code. It's a signal, a Chapter recognition code!"

"Kazao!" Glord cried in elation, "I knew he'd find a way to call us!"

Reddam was already dashing up the ramp of Doombringer as he snapped, "Don't just stand there, get on board. We may only have minutes to intervene. Move your arses!"

Everybody followed him inside the dropship as the ramp began to whine close and Glord headed towards a ladder leading up to the cockpit. Excitement thrummed through him as he accepted they were about to dive into the heart of the Necrons' defences, braving the teeth of their fire. The odds of success were poor, but he took comfort that this time it would be the Amber Vipers bringing the fight to the enemy. It was good to be on the offensive at last.