Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 192
"I advise against this," Maru stated firmly.
"Noted, but I'm doing it anyway," Ferrac replied.
"You do not understand the danger, even with my protections you imperil your soul by speaking to her," the Librarian-Dreadnought cautioned.
"It's not like we've got any other choice," Shrios muttered.
Ferrac knew it to be true, it had been his idea after all. He looked around the brig and found it unchanged. The empty cells still stood in rows and the Librarian-Dreadnought had not budged, the violence of the battle beyond the ship's hull leaving him unperturbed. The only thing that was different was a faint coating of ice over the bars, signs of psychic struggle. Clearly the tussle of minds continued, prisoner and gaoler locked in spiritual conflict.
Ferrac turned his eye to the prisoner and found her kneeling in her cell. The golden armour still shimmered and her long hair fell over her face. She seemed to be barely breathing but otherwise seemed fit and healthy, which was odd. Ferrac had been made aware that she had not eaten or used the latrine since her capture. Either her armour contained some measure of life-support gear or her body was being nourished by psychic power. That spelt trouble in Ferrac's opinion.
Shrios cut into his thoughts to ask, "Can we talk to her?"
Maru replied, "Briefly, I can contain her power but these distractions wear upon my spirit."
"I always knew you were soft," Ferrac snorted.
"Continue and you will spend the rest of your life thinking you are a Catachan Barking toad."
Ferrac left the warrior-philosopher to his task as the pair stepped up to the bars of the cage and growled, "You there, wake up!" Slowly the prisoner opened her eyes, revealing dark irises and piercing vision. Her head rose and then smoothly she climbed to her feet. Even imprisoned physical power oozed from her frame, astonishing strength and density wrought into her body. The null-collar around her neck seemed a dainty bauble and Ferrac suspected she had overcome its potency completely.
"Who disturbs our repose?" the witch sighed.
"I do and I have questions that need answering," Ferrac retorted.
Serenely she replied, "Of course, I am a generous sovereign, I shall aid any who ask it of me."
Ferrac grimaced but continued, "Let's start with where your followers got their hands on a Battlebarge."
The psyker smiled coyly, "It was a gift, from an unruly band of brutes."
"The Blood Talons," Shrios pressed, "You killed them all and stole their ship."
The prisoner cocked her head and said, "They came from the stars, a few ragged survivors of the galactic calamity. I opened my arms to them and they repaid me by attacking my people and spilling blood in the streets. They killed those sworn to my banner and I struck back, what kind of Emperess would I be if I did not avenge my people?"
"Emperess," Ferrac snorted, "An overblown title, reeking of self-congratulations and pride."
"What else should I call myself. I am the guiding light of humanity, the bringer of truth and justice. I have come to restore what was lost, return my Empire to its former glory."
"You think you are the Emperor reborn?!" Shrios scoffed, "I knew you were mad, but this is laughable."
"I am not the corpse on Terra," the witch snapped with a flash of anger, "I am something new, something better. I am what He should have been, I will do what He could not. I will lead with the love and compassion He cast aside."
Shrios snorted, "Love?! Tell that to the millions you had carve out their own hearts."
The witch smiled without a trace of warmth, "Power demand sacrifice. My people knew that and yet chose to nourish me with their lives. It was a choice made of their own will, freely and without compulsion."
"Enough!" Ferrac snapped, "We are not here for your delusional ranting. I want hard tactical data on that ship. Damage taken, structural weak points, botched repairs. Tell me how to kill it!"
The Emperess voice was steel as she uttered, "I shall tell you nothing."
"You will, or I will step in there and carve my answers out of you with a blunt knife."
"Try it and you will find my confinement has done nothing to lessen my strength. My flagship is equally as strong, you will find us both indomitable."
Shrios cut in to say, "What of the crew then, what can you tell us of the people on board?"
The witch chuckled dismissively, "You think to find weakness in my followers but there is none. They are utterly devoted and they will never relent in their quest to release me. There is nowhere in the galaxy you can flee they will not chase you, no force you can bring to bear that will dissuade them. They will never stop coming, until you are all dead."
Ferrac pressed, "You could not have turned the whole crew, some on board must resist your compulsions."
She laughed in derision, "All of mankind is beneath me and bow to my majesty! I filled the Revenge's decks with the finest of my followers, the flower of Lutum's masses. They fight tooth and nail for the honour of serving me. Even your vaunted Sisters of Battle begged to kneel at my feet. I everything your Imperium has dreamt of for ten millennia. Embrace me as your sovereign and I shall forgive your insolence in raising your hands against me."
"I don't have to listen to this," Ferrac growled as he turned and stomped away.
The Emperess' laughter rang in his ears, "You will kneel to me, it is inevitable!"
The pair stomped out of the brig and marched off down a corridor as Shrios muttered, "That was pointless."
Ferrac however grinned, "Far from it, she gave us more than she knew."
Shrios frowned as he remarked, "I was there, I learned nothing."
Ferrac stopped and spun about as he explained, "Three things: first her followers aren't going to quit. There is no running from this fight, they will hunt us down, no matter where we go. We have to fight and defeat them; it is our only option.
"We knew that already," Shrios scoffed.
"Second," Ferrac elaborated, "There are no Blood Talons left on the Revenge, only mortal dregs from Lutum. We are not facing fellow Space Marines, only Heretics. Heretics we can handle."
"I suppose that's good news but I don't see how it helps us."
"Which brings me to the third point," Ferrac stated, "Those mortals aren't trained void-farers. They are conscripts from her army, ground-pounders trying to manage a starship. Inexperienced and easily confused by the complexities of three-dimensional warfare."
"Could have fooled me," Shrios muttered, "They broke us in orbit."
But Ferrac argued, "Only by charging straight at us. There was no cleverness to their tactics, only brute force. Even their ramming action only succeeded because of the unique nature of their flagship. It's the size and power of the ship itself that's the threat, not the hands steering it. We may not be able to outfight the Revenge, but we can outthink her!"
Shrios cocked an eyebrow and remarked, "Ferrac, I've known you a long time, thinking isn't your strongest aspect."
"This is no time for jests!"
"I'm not jesting, you're setting yourself a mountain of a task. Not least of which is convincing an Inquisitor to go along with this."
"Huh?" Ferrac spat.
"Look behind you," Shrios urged.
Ferrac turned and saw Inquisitor Markof bearing down on them. Chattels made way as the silver-plated agent of the Throne approached, feet ringing with every step. His face was grim and his eyes filled with anger and all of it was reserved for Ferrac. Markof strode up to them, not intimidated by the way they towered over him and spat, "What are you playing at?!"
"I assume you mean our interrogation," Ferrac stated, "We were gleaning strategic intel on our enemy's disposition and assets."
Markof snapped, "You shouldn't be speaking to her without me, you shouldn't go near her at all!"
"What's done is done," Ferrac sniffed, "Now we have to plan our next battle."
Markof's anger rose as he hissed, "There will be no next battle, I forbid it."
Ferrac leaned in and growled, "You do not give orders to me."
Markof growled, "Then see sense, destroying the Revenge isn't the mission, getting the prisoner out is. Nothing else matters."
Ferrac sneered, "I wouldn't expect you to understand the concept of honour, Inquisitor. The Revenge has drawn Imperial blood, Amber Viper blood and I will exact vengeance."
"Your honour is meaningless to me," Markof hissed, "One hostile ship is insignificant when set against the value of our prisoner. Let the Revenge run wild, it matters not so long as we get away."
Shrios interjected, "If we run the Revenge will track us down. We can't evade her, not with the civilians in tow."
Markof snorted, "Then send the cargo ships into her path, send the warships too. Keep her busy chewing them to bits, while the Wyvern burns for the warp-jump point. By the time they see the feint for what it is we will be long gone."
"You coward," Ferrac hissed, "You craven, whoreson lickspittle worm!"
Markof's voice didn't rise, it remained icy cool as he said, "I have seen worlds burn and the galaxy ripped in half. I have sent armies to certain death and left planets to die all for the greater cause, sacrificing millions in the name of victory. I would do it again and again, no cost is too high in the service of Him on Terra. I would give my life and all of yours for the cause and I will not let your glory-seeking undermine my mission!"
"Then use that rosette and take command yourself!" Ferrac roared.
Sullen silence came back as Ferrac grinned, "You can't, you know you can't. The Ordo Malleus is here in secret, if you use your unlimited authority then the Ordo Hereticus will find out and you fail your appointed task. I am the only one who can give orders in this battle, I am the only one fit to lead. You know it, the other captain know it and I shall convince them of this soon."
Markof hissed, "I shall not let this pass so easily. I shall send an Astropathic message to your master, summoning him back here."
"Do what you must," Ferrac scoffed, "But they'll be at the outer system by now. The Chapter will take over a week to turn about and get back here. The fight will be over long before that, I guarantee it."
Markof looked like he was going to spit nails as he hissed, "You better know what you're doing."
Ferrac grinned, "I know I am going to win. I retreated once, at your urging, no more. Henceforth I shall stand and fight and emerge victorious."
Shrios interrupted to say, "How exactly?"
Ferrac drew in a breath and said, "I have a plan, but first I need the other Captains to fall in line. The first step is to meet them and make them recognise that I am in command of this fleet."
"Navy Captains won't like taking orders from an Astartes," Shrios muttered.
Ferrac proclaimed, "I'm not giving them a choice, they will acknowledge my authority and then I will lead them to victory. Watch and learn Inquisitor, you are about to see how wars are won."