Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 124

The Wyvern burst back into the Milky Way like an arrow shot from a bow, her flanks gleaming with the faint gossamer wisps of unreality as she left the Warp-gate behind. Before her prow the ugly bruise of the Grim Pall nebula lay, the turgid colours as unwelcoming as ever. Yet after all that had occurred in the satellite galaxy the familiar ugliness of known space was a blessing. Anything would be better than the wasteland of death and destruction they had left behind.

Sitting in orbit floated the Serpens Rex, the ruined starfort having survived its own journey through the warp-gate. The Wyvern turned her prow towards her new dock and vox-messages flew back and forth, a series of interrogations and brisk orders. Soon after five frigates separated from the starfort and sailed back to the warp-gate, weapons armed and ready. What would follow was hours of continuous bombardment, until the warp-gate cracked and its shattered ruins could be scattered to the nine vectors. The Amber Vipers weren't sure if the Necrons could rebuild their Dyson Sphere, but they were determined the undying would not be coming through that door ever again. This route into the Imperium of Man would be shut permanently.

Kazao however saw none of that. He and his squad were back in their familiar barracks, sitting forlornly in their private billet. The chamber was filled with their personal effects and was typically a place for comradery and Brotherhood, but not today. They hadn't spoken in hours, barely exchanging a word on the long voyage back. There hadn't been much to say, Glord was dead and all the joy had been sucked from their world. Glord, the most steadfast and joyous of them all, always ready with a laugh or a jest. The idea of the squad operating without him seemed impossible, he had balanced their wild ways and sullen humours and life without his ready grin seemed a drab prospect indeed.

The squad had returned the vile Fission-blasters to Berio, who departed without a word. None of them liked the disgraced Cerberii and they were glad to be rid of the Marine and his charges. The power armour they had kept. Washed of radiation and repainted by attendant serfs. The paint still glistened with crisp amber hues but the sight brought no joy. It should have been a reward for their valour but instead it seemed a burden, the glory of wearing full plate tainted by loss and grief.

Kazao had kept his helm on, to conceal his mutated face and eyes but Tebes, Joffel and Larus sat in chairs with mournful faces exposed. Reddam was absent, saying only they would meet them in their barracks. Frigid silence reigned as they stared at the floor, none of them wanting to be the first to speak. Kazao knew they were all grieving, feeling the wound to their spirits aching. Their hearts were heavy and no words would ease this pain. So they sat and waited to see who would be first to speak.

It turned out to be Joffel, impatient as ever, and he said, "I hear the fighting arena is busy today… we could go check it out."

Everybody started at that and Larus snapped, "That's all you've got to say?!"

Joffel's face creased in ager as he hissed, "What do you want me to say?"

Larus growled, "Glord's dead and you want to go cheer over some brawling."

"Better than sitting here sulking!" Joffel snapped back testily.

"Brothers," Kazao butted in, "Let us not brawl among ourselves."

"Shut up mutant!" Larus snapped, "You can't even show your face to us."

Kazao was taken aback by the insult but Tebes retorted, "Leave him be, he is our Brother."

Kazao however growled, "I don't need you to fight my battles. Larus, you have something to say to me…"

Larus' face went red as he uttered, "You dare speak to me, Glord's death was your fault."

Kazao's anger rose as he hissed, "Where do you get that idea?!"

"You got yourself captured," Larus spat, "You told us of the Necron's plans. You led us into that deathtrap."

Kazao would once have been admonished by such a rebuke but had grown proud of his achievements and hissed, "I'd like to see you do better than we did. You would never have escaped captivity. You are half the Astartes I am!"

Larus rose to his feet and growled, "Filthy mutant, I'll tear your throat out for that."

"Try it," Kazao hissed as he stood up and raised his fists.

The tension could have been cut with a knife but then suddenly another voice cut in, "Cease this at once!" All eyes turned to the door in shock and they saw Sergeant Reddam standing there, his armour gleaming but his face filled with ire. Under one arm was a crate of beers but his eyes were flint and his jaw clenched as he growled, "Explain this disgraceful behaviour at once."

Joffel cut in, "We were just…"

"Don't lie to me," Reddam snapped, "Glord is dead and you trade insults like callow mortals."

Kazao shrank back in shame but Larus sniped, "I don't see you doing any better."

Reddam dumped the beers on a table and rejoined, "I was going to have us toast Glord's memory, share our stories and honour his name. But you've ruined that."

"Drink beers?" Larus scorned.

Kazao said softly, "It's what Glord would have wanted."

"Glord's dead!" Larus howled, "He can't want anything anymore. He's gone and we're left with nothing but ashes. We can't even perform the Rite of the Dead."

"You better get used to it," Reddam barked, "You think we're the first squad to lose a Brother unexpectedly?! Death in battle is the fate of every Astartes. We are all destined to fall in a muddy battlefield or to be blown out of the air by some errant missile. You should have come to terms with this in the Snakelet-scouts but your training was ever half-assed. Most Chapters have rights of mourning and ceremonies of Honour for the dead, to ease their grief. We don't, so you have to learn how to process this grief yourselves."

Tebes accused, "How can you be so sanguine, did Glord mean so little to you?"

But Reddam's eyes flashed as he retorted, "Do not mistake my self-control for indifference. I mourn Glord as bitterly as you do, but I don't let it impede my zeal. I have lost more than any of you can imagine, mourned Brothers I fought alongside for more years than all of you combined have lived. I am still here because I took that grief and made it the tip of my spear: hard, cruel and unrelenting. You must learn to do the same."

Kazao couldn't imagine such a thing but Larus snapped, "Pretend everything is fine, no I won't do it!"

"Do not test me boy," Reddam growled.

But Larus' self-control shattered and with a howl of grief he launched himself at the Sergeant. His eyes were filled with madness and his fists flew free but Reddam was ready for him. As the ceramite-clad hands reached for him Reddam twisted aside and grabbed his wrists. A heave sent Larus staggering headfirst into the wall and the sound of his genhanced skull hitting metal rang loud. Instantly the Amber Viper spun about, seeking blood but Reddam's fist was already flying for his face and it impacted with a force that shattered his nose.

Larus gargled a mouthful of blood but was not weakened and tackled the Sergeant to the ground. Kazao could barely follow the next moments as Reddam twisted and jerked in mid-air and somehow it was Larus who hit the deck with Reddam sitting astride him. Reddam's fist hit his cheek and blood was splattered over the deck. In return Larus grabbed for his neck but Reddam seized his gorget and heaved upwards, even as his forehead slammed forward with a crack of bone on bone.

At last Larus sagged and Reddam jumped to his feet and placed his boot over Larus' throat as he growled, "You may have power armour but you have no idea how to use it. You have allowed your grief to overwhelm your discipline, for this you shall be punished. It seems I have been too lenient and soft on the lot of you. If any of you raise your hands to your superior ever again I will end you."

Kazao, Joffel and Tebes had watched the exchange in dumbfounded silence and Kazao gasped, "How…"

Reddam's head turned slowly to take them in and he barked, "This is not how we honour Glord, this display shames him. He would be dismayed to see us brawling like Chaos filth. The Amber Vipers are better than this, we must be better than this. That is how we honour him, by being better. Take this grief and make it the whetstone for your zeal. Be harder, faster, stronger and more unyielding in the prosecution of your duty. Make Glord's death mean something and you will honour his sacrifice."

Silence reigned as heads lowered in shame and Kazao whispered, "Yes Brother-Sergeant, we will."

Joffel added, "I will carry Glord's memory into battle every day."

Tebes said, "A hundred heretics will I slay in his name, a thousand."

Reddam glared at them then ordered, "Take one hour to get your frakking heads straight then meet me in the shooting range. We shall train twice as hard from this day forth."

With that Reddam stalked out, leaving the rest to stew in their shame. Kazao said nothing and the others didn't look at each other as they hung their heads. Larus for his part picked himself off the floor and stomped off to the chamber where their bikes were stored. His resentment was plain but for now there was nothing to be done about it. The silence stretched out and Kazao clasped and unclasped his hands before him as he tried to think of something to say.

Eventually Joffel sighed, "Come on, let us sort out Glord's personal effects. We can have our own Rite of the Dead."

Tebes concurred, "Aye, one last farewell. Are you coming Kazao?"

"You go ahead," Kazao sighed, "I'll join you in a minute."

They stomped off to Glord's former personal cell, leaving Kazao alone. The Aberrant did not follow for he had much to think about. He flexed his hands again and dwelled upon all that had been said and all that hadn't been said. The things he hadn't told his Brothers, secrets he was holding back. Things he hadn't told anyone about his time on the Dyson Sphere, not even the other Aberrants. Kazao had been in two minds beforehand but after that altercation he was sure he was right not to share this.

Silently he reached his left hand over and uncoupled his right gauntlet, pulling it free with a jerk. Underneath was revealed his scaled hand, mutated and vile but now corded with iron hard tendons. His fingertips bore tiny dewclaws, new growths that promised to become feral talons with time. His muscles under the Ceramite of his plate were harder and more vibrant, he could feel it with every motion and his Betcher's Gland throbbed with increased acidity. Kazao wasn't sure if the Necrons had done something to him while he was trapped in that laboratorium, or maybe he had been exposed to something during his escape. It might not even be them; his armour was still leaking radiation from a cracked power cell. His rad-counter might not be clicking but that wasn't because he'd fixed the problem, he'd merely turned the alarm off. Whatever the reason his body was growing more powerful and more deadly and he liked the feeling coursing through his veins.

Kazao had debated telling Reddam about this change but now he was determined to keep it to himself. He was already growing in strength and speed and this boon could only benefit the squad and the Chapter. If there was cause for concern he would inform the sergeant but for now, everything felt right. Yes, he decided, he would keep this quiet and discover how strong he could become. Kazao had never known anything save shame and disrespect, but now his armour hid his face and with this strength he could become someone of note in the Chapter. Far from the inglorious future he had always expected this could be the way to carve a legend all his own. Glory awaited and Kazao would seize it. The squad would understand when they saw what he could do, Kazao was sure of it.