Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 176
The orbital lanes over Lutum were clogged with activity. Broken defence monitors and cracked escort frigates littered the lower orbits, in decaying trajectories that would see them careen into the atmosphere in a matter of years. Exploded minefields and spent torpedoes drifted away into space, while exhausted fighter squadrons became frozen tombs for their pilots. The Imperial taskforce had broken the planetary defences in a bitter assault, leaving behind a graveyard of hulks. Recovery barges and salvage tenders ripped into those hulks, removing valuable components before they were lost. Dead bodies clung to frozen surfaces, left entombed at their stations. Occasionally pockets of life were found, buried deep within the hulks, but the Mechanicus workers made no effort to rescue these Heretics. Mechanical parts being deemed far more valuable and precious than easily replaced workers. Only one structure remained intact, the primary orbital dock. It had been captured in the opening hours by Primus Cohort, then used as a staging ground to facilitate the landing.
Ferrac squinted at the drab planet below and wondered if it was worth the blood spent to take it. The Battle-Captain was standing in an observation blister on the back of the Wyvern, the Amber Viper's largest vessel. Hardly impressive in nature, a captured trade carrack repurposed to serve their needs, but it was the best they had. Lacking a proper Strike Cruiser they had to make do with salvaged ships and captured pirate vessels. Such was the necessities of life for the Amber Vipers, depending only on themselves as they sought their own path, though that state of affairs had changed recently.
"The prisoner is secure?" asked Inquisitor Markof.
"My Chief Liberian stands guard," Coluber replied, "She is going nowhere with Maru Kysoto as her gaoler."
"Somehow I don't find that reassuring," Markof stated suspiciously.
Ferrac turned around and found his master and the Inquisitor sharing the blister. They had come straight to orbit from the battle, leaving the subjugation of the populace to the Imperial Guard. Ferrac didn't care about that though, the Chapter had never been ones to hang about once they had what they wanted.
"Scared?" he quipped.
Markof glared back, making the brand over his eye contort, as he growled, "This one witch overran a loyal Imperial world without firing a shot. She subverted the populace to her service with words alone. Even the local convent of Adepta Sororitas could not withstand her coercions, the pious Sisters of Battle left enslaved to her will. Her psionic threat level is Alpha-plus."
"Then why not turn her over to the Black Ships... or the Sisters of Silence?" Ferrac needled.
"You know why," Markof snapped, "Our orders were specific: return the witch alive to the Crusade. No interference from the Inquisition or any other bodies is permissible."
"Why?" Ferrac sniffed.
"What?" Markof growled.
"Why does he want her?" Ferrac pressed.
"That is not a good question," Markof stated.
"You don't know either," Ferrac chortled, "You're as in the dark as we are."
"You must wish for a swift death to challenge an Inquisitor so," Markof hissed, "With a word I could end you all."
"Once perhaps," Ferrac snorted, "Now the Inquisition is merely another of his tools."
"We have an arrangement," Markof snapped, "We cannot be fighting among ourselves, not with the galaxy split in half. For the time being the Ordo Malleus aligns with him, but not all agree. There are many factions, many dissenting voices. Which is why we must move swiftly, before they interfere."
"Then perhaps we should leave at once," Coluber interjected.
"Oh no," Markof snorted, "The prisoner is staying with the taskforce. You aren't slinking away with this prize. Need I remind you how you came to be attached to this expedition in the first place..."
He really didn't. Ferrac could remember every detail in exacting precision. He wished he couldn't, he would love to forget that day but unbidden the memory arose and swept him away, taking him back to the recent past.
...
"There they are," intoned the grim voice of Coluber.
"Coming in fast from the outer reaches," Ferrac noted, "On a direct intercept course."
"So... not an Auspex ghost," Apothecary Shrios sneered as he eyed a sheepish mortal named Nathanal.
The party was stood upon the command platform of the Serpens Rex, the beating heart of the derelict Starfort the Amber Vipers claimed for their own. The nerve centre of their home was a graceful blend of delicate art and functional machinery, creating a space that was efficient yet uplifting to behold. Sadly the starfort beyond was not so blessed. A derelict ruin of shattered towers, broken defences and vacuum-exposed corridors. The Amber Vipers inhabited a tiny portion of the base's interior, leaving the rest cold and lifeless. It took all the Chapter's ingenuity simply to keep the lights on and move it through the galaxy, the odds of them surviving a void-battle with a hostile fleet were laughable.
Nathanal peered at one of the consoles ringing their plinth. He was a mortal man among Space Marines, small and easily broken but also the foremost adept in matters technical. Until a true Techmarine arose in the Chapter he was the last word in the dark sciences of logic and circuit. He frowned as he reported, "Definitely not a surveyor echo, they're radiating energy for all to see."
"How'd they find us?" Shrios asked.
"Maybe it's a coincidence?" Nathanal mused.
Coluber scoffed, "We are in a deserted stellar system, completely devoid of life and with no strategic significance. Harvesting asteroids and minding our own business. The odds of two fleets stumbling into each other in the vastness of the galaxy are so small I doubt the Fabricator-General of Mars could calculate them. Whoever these intruders are, they knew we were here and came looking for us."
Ferrac growled, "They took their damned time, dogging us for days, pinging our auspex but falling back when we sent out scouts. Now they come straight at us. I don't like it."
Nathanal straightened up and said, "Well here's something interesting. I'm picking up their signal pennants, these are Imperial ships."
"Surely, that's good news," Shrios exclaimed.
"Not so much," Coluber muttered, "The Amber Vipers are hardly orthodox in matters of doctrine. We routinely flout Imperial writ and waver from the straight and narrow. If it's the Mechanicus or worse the Inquisition, they'd shoot us on principle."
Ferrac muttered, "Alien guns, flagrant invention and modification of standard patterns, using tainted relics and Xeno equipment, acting as mercenaries to any governor with the coin to pay us... hell I'd shoot us, if the circumstance were different."
"Throne forbid they look at what the Cerberii hide behind the Gates of Perdition," Nathanal gulped.
"That's enough," Coluber barked, "Sound the alarums, bring the Nest to combat stance. Deploy squads to defend the interior and raise shields. Maru is holding the docking pier."
"Well make a fight of it," Ferrac growled.
"A short one," Coluber lamented, "Tell me the lance array is blessed."
"Thrice consecrated and charged," Nathanal replied, "We can put out a shot that will make them think twice."
"Hold it in reserve," Coluber ordered, "Send a hail to the intruders and inform them the Amber Vipers do not welcome visitors."
The crew hastened to obey as Nathanal read loud, "Receiving ident codes. Three capital ships closing, with escorts. I read two line-cruisers: the Justice of Ultramar and the Veritas and a Strike Cruiser, the Marius Gage. They name themselves patrol group Vigilum, of the Indomitus Crusade's Primus Fleet."
"Ultramarian ships?!" Shrios yelped, "Here!"
"You know who they report to," Ferrac hissed, "The most uptight and humourless bastard ever to sail the stars."
Coluber agreed, "The last thing we want is entanglements with the office of the Imperial Regent. We best warn them off, quickly."
Nathanal gulped as he uttered, "You may want to rethink that statement. They just crossed into real-time communication range and demand a face-to-face holo-conference... they claim to have the Imperial Regent onboard."
"No..." Ferrac breathed in denial, "He can't be, he wouldn't come looking for us..."
His next words were cut off as a holo-image began to form, a giant figure coalescing out of light before them. Taller than any Space Marine, broader and more powerful. Even half-formed the being radiated authority and Ferrac gripped his axe-rake tight as he felt danger loom.
"I didn't say to open a channel!" Coluber barked.
Nathanal protested, "I didn't, they're sending out a Cryptographic signal that's beguiling the Machine Spirits. They're punching a message through, whether we like it or not."
Any further words were cut off as the holo-image hardened and a Primarch appeared before them. Towering over all lesser beings the Thirteenth Primarch, Lord of Ultramar and Imperial Regent, came into view. His armour was glorious beyond compare, his weapons deadly and his presence startling. Even in Holo-form Roboute Guilliman dominated the room, all other's falling still and silent at his arrival. Ferrac felt like a mouse caught in the gaze of a feline predator and his hand itched to raise his axe-rake in token protection against the threat.
Roboute Guilliman peered over the command centre with a stony expression, eyes narrowed in distaste, then he fixed his glare upon the Chapter Master and uttered, "Coluber, of the Amber Vipers."
Everybody shared amazed glances and Coluber breathed, "You know my name."
Guilliman retorted, "I wouldn't be here otherwise. You have led me a merry chase through this stellar system, a useless exchange that has cost me precious time, that could be better served elsewhere."
"We didn't ask you to come," Coluber replied, "You can have this system if you want it, we are leaving anyway."
"You are going nowhere," Guilliman stated bluntly, "I have heard reports of your renegade Blackshields and have come to redress your flagrant breaches of Imperial protocol. Lower your shields and prepare to receive me."
Amazingly Coluber dared to say, "The Amber Vipers are a sovereign Chapter, we do not answer to you!"
Guilliman's eyes narrowed slightly as he intoned, "Since you are clearly deficient in your reasoning I have tried my best to be patient, but I will tolerate no further insubordination. Lower your shields immediately, or suffer the consequences. I can waste no more time with you."
"He'll do it," Shrios breathed, "He will blow us away."
"Give him a taste of the lances," Ferrac urged, "Show him we mean business."
Coluber set his shoulders in defiance and uttered, "We are not beholden to you. Take your ships and return to your Crusade. We will continue to fight for the Emperor as we see fit."
Guilliman's face didn't so much as twitch at the defiance, instead his reply was a curt, "First wave: Execute."
Ferrac lurched as the Serpens Rex was rocked by violent motions. The artificial gravity convulsed and the mortals screamed as they were thrown over their consoles. Chattels clung to their stations as the Nest rocked back and forth and Ferrac was forced to mag-lock his boots to keep from falling over. The great Starfort quivered like it was being pounded by Nova Bombs, yet bizarrely the incoming fleet hadn't fired a shot, they would have seen it. Whatever this was, it wasn't the product of shooting.
Nathanal was yelling, "Shields have collapsed, helm control is dead... lances are without power."
"What did he hit us with?!" Coluber shouted over the screaming.
"Nothing!" Nathanal cried, "It's coming from within, this is sabotage!"
Understanding dawned as Ferrac hollered, "We've been infiltrated, he's only gone and snuck units inside our walls. He must have spent days setting this up!"
Through it all Guilliman's Hololith stood unmoved and he stonily said, "Second wave: Execute." Ferrac's ears popped as the air pressure plummeted, coldness wrapping itself around his limbs as his throat closed. Light, impossible light burst among them, waves of actinic brilliance that seared the eye and left blinding purple spots upon vision. Ferrac roared as he grabbed his axe-rake and swung blindly, trying to hit something, for he recognised this effect: Teleportation flares, the by-product of a remote translocation.
Ferrac's genhanced eyes swiftly cleared his vision and he found himself surrounded by foes. As the throbbing light dissipated it left behind doughty warriors in broad plate. Thick armour encased limbs and torsos, immense pauldrons sat squarely on proud shoulders and bulldog helms glowered evilly. Their plate bore transcendent marks of honour and glory, each a proclamation of victory over impossible odds. Yet Ferrac's eyes widened more in response to the power fists and Storm Bolters held ready in eager hands. He knew these warriors, he knew their kind: Tactical Dreadnought units, the Terminator Elite of the Adeptus Astartes, one hundred of them had appeared out of nowhere.
"Look out!" Ferrac roared as he leapt at the nearest foe. He was caught in mid-thrust by a doughty fist, a blow that sent him sprawling to the deck. Ferrac was a veteran Astartes, a champion and brawler, the finest warrior in the Chapter and yet the Terminator clubbed him down like he was a yapping pup. A boot slammed into his chest, pinning him to the floor and Ferrac found himself confronted by a twin-barrelled storm bolter being pointed at his face and a growled, "Try it, I dare you."
Ferrac sagged back and saw Coluber and the others were surrounded, weapons ringing them with deadly force. They were helpless to resist as the Terminators disarmed them, taking away their swords, a shameful insult to any Astartes. Nobody dared resist though as the Terminators seized control of the Nest and Ferrac was bemused to note they didn't even kill a single chattel. They didn't have to, the Terminators had achieved mastery and none could gainsay them.
Through it all Guilliman's holo-image stayed unmoving and now he spoke, "Well done Terminator-Captain Robann, a most precise strike. Make ready to receive me. The Serpens Rex and all aboard are hereby placed under my authority."
...
Ferrac shook off the memory and dragged his mind back to the here and now. He realised he had missed part of the exchange and forced himself to pay attention as Markof stated, "The Ordo Hereticus will be sending a Black Ship soon, we must be away before they notice we have the prisoner."
Coluber stated, "Ferrac will escort you to your destination, I trust he will keep you safe."
"He better," Markof growled, "Remember, your Chapter's fate still hangs in the balance."
"You don't need to remind us," Coluber hissed, "Now let us be about our business. The sooner we part ways the better."
"On that we can all agree," Markof stated as he turned and walked out.
Ferrac sighed to himself as the Inquisitor departed. He bitterly wished this affair was over and done with but that seemed unlikely. Even once they left this world he was sure the Amber Viper's woes were far from over. He didn't know what the Regent intended for his Chapter, but he was certain it spelt trouble.