Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 135
Coluber always loved watching the approach to the Serpens Rex. As his Aquila lighter climbed out of the atmosphere the fortress grew in his eyes from a tiny mote into a vast wedge of armour and engines. The Nest, the Amber Vipers affectionately called it, coming in on a slingshot trajectory from the asteroid belts to sweep over the planet and scoop up the Chapter. Then it would race away to the outer system, where it could make the jump into the warp and seek further wars to fight.
Coluber leaned over the pilot's shoulder for a better view, who kept his eyes firmly on the instruments as they drifted nearer. The Serpens Rex was a Ramillies-pattern Starfort, a mobile base of operations capable of supporting fleets of warships and veritable armies for years. Once home to another Chapter, the original Amber Vipers, Coluber had co-opted the base as he had everything else, including their name. Now it was the bedrock of his Chapter's operations, home, manufactorum and training ground all in one. It was the lynchpin of their logistics and had propelled the Amber Vipers into a new phase of their rebirth. Though it must be admitted, the Nest had seen better days.
Much of the ancient starfort lay in ruins, whole sections demolished in the war that had slain all but one of the first Amber Vipers. The four great drydock-arms were open to the void. The defence bastions were rubble and accessways crushed with debris. The outer docking piers were tangled wreckage, save one the Chapter had spent years clearing for their meagre flotilla. The guns were kindling and many templums and observatories were blown wide open. At the heart of the station a series of broken spires squatted, their truncated lengths like rotten teeth in a gum. Only one tower remained intact, a lonely survivor standing vigil over a battlefield of slain comrades. In truth the Nest would struggle to fight off a flock of avians but to Coluber its worth was not measured in guns but in ideas. The Serpens Rex was an echo of glory, of the pride and valour of Adeptus Astartes, and its very existence would inspire his younger Brothers to greatness.
Over the next hour he watched in rapt silence as swarms of orbital shuttles and lifters, that passed for gunships in his Chapter, filed into the waiting docking bay. He made sure to go last and was finally swallowed up by a cavernous hanger, passing through an atmospheric integrity shield to settle down in a bay large enough to support three times as many shuttles without trouble. He alighted from the Aquila and jumped down, noting the stars wheeling in the void as the Nest's plasma drives turned them from the planet and carried them into the void.
The bay was bustling as Amber Vipers disembarked, eager Snakelets of Tertius in their scout-armour, laughing and playfully brawling in celebration of their blooding. The rowdy squads of Secundus, some in power armour others in lighter gear, tending to their bikes and Vulture attack craft with boasts of their prowess in battle. Then there were the proud warriors of Primus, in power armour to a man, six squads marching from the bay in perfect alignment with bolters held in parade formation. Of them all Primus was by far the greatest, not only in martial power but in spirit: proud, zealous, dedicated and stern. In time the whole Chapter would be like them, Coluber swore.
Coluber spied Battle-Captain Ferrac lurking by the Thunderhawk Viper's Bite and called over, "I see you made it."
"Hard to get lost," Ferrac retorted, "There's nothing else up here."
Coluber looked about and asked, "Where's Maru?"
Ferrac sniffed, "Took off like a rocket, had some business to tend to, he said."
"You didn't ask?"
"I didn't care," Ferrac replied with a grin.
Coluber sighed to himself. His second in command and Chief Librarian were ever at loggerheads, always arguing over something or other. They were both fierce pugilists but Maru was a refined scholar while Ferrac was a brawler and blood-spiller. They had very different ideas on how to fight and how to train new recruits. Yet Coluber valued them both and would not have gone to war without either.
It was then a figure in dirty white armour closed, his scarred head shaking in dismay as he watched servitors carry stretchers out of the Chapters other Thunderhawk, Poisoned Fang. "Shrios?!" Coluber called, "How fares the day?"
The head of the nascent Apothecary order glanced over and answered, "No fatalities, if that's what you're asking but plenty of lacerations and stab wounds. My sawbones who call themselves apprentices will be busy."
"No fatalities, praise the Emperor," Coluber breathed.
"Hardly a surprise," Ferrac scoffed, "We went through the Xenos like a hot knife through a grot's skull."
"Still a worthy laurel for our banners," Coluber admonished, "A whole Xenos species wiped out, one less threat to plague mankind in the future."
Shrios was glancing out of the hanger and asked, "Say, what was the name of this planet?"
"You don't know?" Ferrac exclaimed.
"Do you?" Shiros retorted.
"Well… no," Ferrac laughed, "It wasn't worth bothering to learn, this place is insignificant."
Coluber scowled as he snapped, "Torminos, and it hid a trove of significant value. We were fortunate it hadn't been disturbed, not this close to the Eastern Fringe."
Ferrac didn't sound impressed as he muttered, "Shouldn't we figure out where to go next?"
"Yes," Coluber sighed, "Come on."
The trio left the hanger, stepping around the bulk of Drakones as it was unloaded. They stepped into a wide thoroughfare and headed deeper into the Nest, Coluber rolling slightly in his gait as the old injury pulled at his leg. No quick transit capsules were available to whisk them away, no mag-levs or ground cabs, they had to walk on foot. A station this size could take hours to cross but Coluber knew they had bigger priorities than comfort. He couldn't afford workgangs to repair the internal transit networks when he still had crews sweating trying to get the shields to work.
Still the Chapter had made some progress. In the few years they had been here they had repaired a living section stretching from the docking pier to the central hub. Amber Vipers lived and trained in the Nest night and day while thousands of mortal chattels tended the workshops and engines and all the other inglorious tasks required to keep two hundred Astartes fighting. Coluber looked upon them with pride, knowing human and Transhuman were committed to the same goal. A worthy Chapter, whole and resplendent in purpose.
As they passed a crumbling defence tower, its structure reduced to holed cheese by Gauss blasts, Ferrac asked, "Did we get any good loot?"
Coluber rolled his eyes but explained, "Slim pickings. Kregulf reports much was destroyed inside the bunker. Still he managed to retrieve some heavy weapons, Lascannons, autocannons and other items, some servitor load-lifters, requiring new organic components and some STC parts for our shuttles. The real prizes were a few intact Fission-blasters, some burst-lances and a handful of Volkite pistols. Plus a boxload of Vortex Grenades."
"Mine!" Ferrac quickly uttered.
"You can argue with the Cerberii over that," Coluber laughed, "Shrios, what of your search?"
"Fruitless," Shrios grimaced, "As suspected this world's youths were weak and diffident, not one would last a week in the training grounds. A few even tried to claim their fathers were influential men and they would have me whipped, were I not to make them into the Emperor's Angels."
"What did you do to them?" Ferrac asked pointedly.
"I gifted the little dungbags scars that won't ever fade," Shrios smirked.
"You didn't kill them for their idiocy?" Coluber asked in surprise.
"Too quick and kind," Shrios scoffed, "I want them to remember me every time they look in a mirror. I shall not forget them, the memory of their tears brings me endless joy."
The trio chuckled as they walked on, passing deeper into the Nest. They left behind living quarters and entered a zone of more refined tastes. Here the work of Maru Kysoto became evident, his schools of blade, shot and piloting lining the route. The last of the old Amber Vipers was schooling the best of the new breed in the arts of his kindred, passing on skills from antiquity. It was having a notable effect on their demeanour and strategy, though Coluber knew the Librarian-Dreadnought fumed that nobody had yet attended his teachings on poetry, art and philosophical debate. The new Amber Vipers still would rather kick back with a few beers than sit and discourse on minutiae of scholars who died millennia ago.
The trio passed between the legs of a statue that towered over the avenue, so tall a Warhound Titan could have passed under it, though the legs were all that was left of it. They stepped into an elevator and waited as a series of chains and pulleys hoisted them up the central tower of the Nest. No fancy grav-lifts here, physical mechanics had to suffice to send them aloft. Coluber waited as they passed strategiums and tactical briefing rooms, then his personal quarters, until at last they reached the bridge.
The Chapter Master passed two great hatches and stepped into a vision of splendour. A sweeping vista of red and gold greeted his eye, a king's hall designed to instil awe. Rose-red columns framed a circular residence, with walls covered in frescos of Astartes at war. A raised walkway, lacquered to a mirror sheen, ran between recessed pits where chattels and Servitors fifty deep laboured. A regal podium stood at the far end, framed by red-marble wings etched with writhing serpents and ringed by priceless Nalwood railings. Over all stood a statue of the Emperor in His aspect of teacher and sage, an open hand offering enlightenment to the seeker. The bridge was a vision of glory lost to the ages and its beauty stole the breath of all who entered. This was the heart of the Serpens Rex, in more ways than one.
Coluber eagerly crossed the bridge and mounted the podium to find a man waiting. Nathanal, chief enginseer and boss of the Chattel artisans, the closest thing to a Techpriest they had. Coluber had left him in charge while they were absent, a duty far above the station of a lowly mortal but, as always, they had to make do.
Coluber swept his eyes over the many glowing consoles set atop the podium, taking in reams of data with glace, and asked, "Well?"
Nathanal stuck his dirty hands into his overalls and sniffed, "Nothing much to report, we didn't see anybody else out there. Good job too, not much we could have done if a hostile ship showed up."
"Haven't you at least got the shields working?!" Ferrac snapped.
"We had another plasma relay blow out," Nathanal protested, "It ain't easy shielding something this big, especially since most of the Nest is exposed to hard vacuum."
"I don't want excuses, I want results," Coluber snapped, "This station might have to defend itself any time."
"Then give me ten thousand more hands and the resources of Mars. I'm doing the best I can with what I've got."
"At least tell me you grabbed some asteroids," Coluber sighed.
"Plenty, nothing remarkable but lots of base metal. The refinery is nearly ready and when it is we can start forging our own parts and equipment. Soon this place will ring with the sound of hammers and plasma-torches."
"Good we must become self-sufficient if we are too…" Coluber trailed off as he spied Maru Kysoto entering. The Librarian-Dreadnought seemed in a great hurry, crossing the bridge with quick steps and mounted the steps calling, "Coluber, we must speak!"
Coluber faced the venerable ancient and asked politely, "Maru, I wasn't expecting to see you so soon."
"I thought you'd gone for a nap," Ferrac needled.
"Cease your yapping," Maru snapped, "I have loftier concerns than brawling in the mud."
"Like you ever get your hands dirty," Ferrac snorted.
"Enough," Coluber groaned, "You two are as bad as each other."
Maru replied, "I offer humble apologies, I shame myself by responding when I must rise above his petty goads. I come with important news; there is a light shining in the Warp."
"A light?" Shrios asked, "The Astronomicon is faint I know, but if it is brightening…"
"No not the Astronomicon," Maru cut in, "This is something other, something new. It feels different, not the projection of living minds, artificial somehow. I have never seen the like, neither have the Navigators."
"This light, it is a new phenomenon?" Coluber probed.
Maru affirmed, "Yes, it burns like a bonfire in a moonless night. I have timed its first moment of appearance and, accounting for Warp vagaries, it ignited at the same time your destroyers broke the seals on that bunker."
"That's no coincidence," Coluber mused, "The Cerberii must have triggered something, some form of alarm or summons when they set foot within. Throne, this could be monumental in importance."
"But it's impossible," Shrios scoffed, "Warp-sailing is fiendish at the best of times and this light is... where now?"
"Two-hundred and fifty light-years away," Maru answered, "Just on the edge of the Eastern Fringe."
"See! A vox-signal would take two and a half-centuries to travel that far. Without an Astropath interstellar communication is impossible, everyone knows that."
Yet Coluber pondered "But none know what secrets the Dark Age of Technology hides. Mankind traversed the warp somehow, without an Astronomicon, who knows what else they could do. If this light is connected to the bunker we ransacked then it could be another buried facility or a drifting ship from the distant past. Something lost to the ages, but waking up. We can't afford to ignore this, we must act."
"Hold on," Ferrac said, "Are we the only ones seeing this, is the light source aimed at us?"
"No," Maru said, "It burns like fire on a hilltop at midnight. If I can see it, any psyker can."
"Then we must make haste," Coluber urged, "Time is of the essence."
"Still seems a slim lead to me," Shrios muttered.
Coluber retorted, "Something primordial stirs and we know the power of the Dark Age all too well. Imagine the power of a starship like we found on Athelling in our hands; imagine that power in the hands of an enemy. Either this is a prize we can claim or a threat we must destroy. We have to get there first, before anyone else comes looking. Bring the Serpens Rex to Maximum speed, I want us in the Warp post-haste."
"It's fourteen days to the nearest jump-point," Nathanal protested.
"Then stoke the drives and whip the chattels," Coluber commanded, "I want us Translated within ten days. Make no mistake we shall seek out this new light and woe betide anyone who gets in our way!"