Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 204
When the mutiny erupted on the Carmilla it did so with surprising swiftness and shocking ferocity. No slow building of conspiracies, no careful plotting in the dark and furtive whispers behind closed doors. It was an explosion of frustration and rage, thousands of abused souls rising against their gaolers in a surging tide of retribution. In corridors and holds petty officers were beset by mobs of vengeful ratings, knives flashing as they repaid a lifetime of maltreatment. Stokers throttled enginseers with their chains, ammunition loaders cheered as they threw overseers into grinding mechanisms and watched them be pulped, damage control teams laughed as they shoved junior officers into airlocks and flushed them into the void. It was a mad outpouring of emotion and Juto Hornan was shocked by how swiftly it had overtaken the Carmilla.
The Acting-Captain had thought orchestrating such an uprising would take weeks, if not months of hushed plotting. He had started small, recruiting those senior officers he knew to be disgruntled and ambitious. While the rest of the fleet gathered they had met in secret recruited them one by one. Ambos had barely needed any persuading, the flight officer bitterly resentful of their losses and the careless indifference of the Astartes. Gansay had been eager to sign up, a sycophant at heart he would pursue any path that led to more power and glory. Tinag had been a harder sell but the recordings Hornan had shown him were shocking, plus he agreed the Space Marines were going to get them all killed, so had finally signed up.
Hornan had thought it was going exceedingly well. The seniors recruited a few others, and they a few more, then suddenly it all exploded in his face. Someone, somewhere had slipped up and let out the secret and the result had been a tsunami of revolting crewmen, all with the cry of mutiny on their lips. Hornan wasn't even sure how it had started, some incident in the fortieth mess-hall he heard and then violent mobs formed in every compartment. He had always thought an Imperial ship was a strict hierarchy of obedience and fealty, now he was starting to realise they were in truth pressure cookers of anger and resentment. Tens of thousands of disgruntled souls, kept in check only by the whips of petty officer and the pistols of Commissars, all reinforced by the fear of the senior officers, take that fear away and the result was anarchy.
Suddenly a bullet smacked into the pipe over Hornan's head and he was forced to duck behind a rough barricade. Hornan pressed his back to the metal panels, chainsword and stubber-pistol held tight as more rounds pinged against the frame. Others were with him and he was surprised to see Ambos kneeling in cover, her hands bearing twin las-pistols and a wide grin upon her face.
"Nice to see you mucking in," she chortled.
"You think this is funny?!" Hornan yelped as bullets and las struck their barrier.
"I think this is madness incarnate," Ambos replied, "Still it's either laugh or cry so pick your poison."
The incoming fire slackened off and Hornan yelled, "Return fire!" He turned and lifted his arm, firing off a few rounds at the distant foe. Around him two score mutineers added their opinion, firing from various barricades and toppled trollies. Hornan took a moment to assess the situation. They were in a munition hoist just outside the forward lances, a place where replacement capacitor coils and focussing lenses could be hauled out of deep storage and then sent forward to soothe the ailing guns. There was a lift in the middle of the room, big enough for four Baneblades to occupy, but hoists were sparking messes. Three other ways out of the enormous space were evident, but all were covered by the mutineers. Against the fourth wall a group of hold-outs lurked in cover, pinned but well-armed. Hornan didn't know how many of them were waiting but they betrayed no intention of surrender and spent ammo like it was water.
The reply was brief before a return shot punched a burly mutineer off his feet and forced the rest back into cover. The exchange of fire continued, each side nipping out to let off a round then ducking back. It was a stalemate and Hornan gritted his teeth in frustration. He reached for his vox-bead and called, "Captain Hornan here, I need reinforcements at the forward lances."
His vox-crackled and then a voice called, "Gansay here, the Enginarium is a riot and the tech-priests are dead. Its bedlam in here, I can't leave until we set down a new order."
"Warp Hells," Hornan spat, "At least tell me you killed Commissar Landry."
"No sign of him and I'm up to my neck in dried-dung trying to get this mob under control. Imposing command in the aftermath is going to be hard enough. We have to hold the key areas or lose the ship."
"Frak," Hornan cursed, "Frak frakkity, frak, this is spinning out of control."
Ambos snorted, "It's a mutiny, it's supposed to be out of control. No choice for it, we'll have to rush them and you must lead the charge."
"A frontal charge into a dug-in enemy, sod that, we're not Astartes!" Hornan spat.
Ambos dropped the grin and said, "Gansay's right, it's every man for himself. Chain of command has been clusterfrakked today. Tomorrow command will lie with whoever is strongest. If you want to be in charge you need to show everybody you're the toughest, meanest son of a bitch on board."
Hornan knew she was right, it was time to be bold and fearless. He squared his jaw and called, "Kinola, Juetra, on the count of three have your teams lay down suppressing fire. Everyone else follow me. One, two… now!"
From the left and the right flanks came a barrage of bullets and las, showering the defenders liberally and forcing them to duck. Instantly Hornan was on his feet, vaulting the barricade in one motion. His boots hit the floor and he was running, arms and legs pumping as a score of men and women followed him. He put his head down and ran for all he was worth, desperate to reach the barricades before the defenders could return fire.
Moments crawled by like ice-ages, each step an eternity but he made it half-way before any response was forthcoming. A man darted out from behind a chain as thick as a Leman Russ and let rip a shotgun with a booming roar. Two men besides Hornan went down as gory messes but Juto's pistol fired back on reflex and blew the shooter's brains out.
Three more steps and they were in among the defenders. Hornan led with his chainsword, a shortened blade suited to the cramped confines of boarding actions. A man with a red neckerchief around his throat came at him with a notched sabre, but a sweep of the spinning blades ripped the blunt metal apart and then smashed through ribs and lungs, punching out the other side. Hornan was sprayed with flecks of blood but heaved his blade back and kicked off the body. He saw another man with a red sash around his waist trying to plunge a knife into Ambos' back, a swift retort of his pistol put paid to that.
All around mutineers piled into the dug-in defenders. Knives flashing and pistols barking. Men went down grappling tooth and nail, guts were spilled and throats torn out. Hornan moved through the fray, weapons making short work of any who opposed him and he accounted for three more souls before the violence died down. He stopped in confusion and called, "Is that it?"
Ambos fired a pistol into a prone woman's forehead, blowing out her brains to be sure, then called, "Seems so, turns out there were only a dozen of them."
"Not so many as I feared," Hornan breathed, "Lucky for us."
Suddenly a cry went up, "Captain, come see this!" Hornan turned and jogged over and saw a pile of bodies laid out and trapped under them was Senior officer Torhay. The stalwart veteran was pinned to the floor, with a red bandana around his brow, but he was still breathing. Hornan's heart fell at the sight, he had hoped Torhay would see sense and join the mutiny, or at least die somewhere far away and out of sight, but it seemed Hornan would have to deal with him personally.
"Get him up and on his knees," Hornan commanded. Mutineers rushed to obey and dragged the officer out, forcing him to kneel, a man on either side gripping his biceps tight. Surrounded by two-score rebels Torhay knelt, head woozily lurching on his neck but soon he regained his senses and looked up with hate in his eye to spit, "You traitorous rat-bastard."
Hornan felt a flush of shame at the accusation, he had harboured great admiration for Torhay, but showed none of it on his face as he said, "Mr Torhay, I am glad to see you yet breathe; I would hate to kill you."
"Spare me your pity," Torhay growled, "I'd gut you with my hook if you would but step closer."
Hornan sighed, "Torhay, always so bold and brash. It would be a shame to waste your talents. Join us, join us in freeing the Carmilla from the yoke of Terra and we will welcome you among our ranks."
"You think I'd turn," Torhay hissed, "You are a deluded wretch. I can't believe I once advocated you for command. I should have shot you the second you stepped on board and spared the Imperium your treachery."
"Torhay," Hornan urged, "You serve masters unworthy of your fealty. The rancid corruption squatting in the halls of the mighty does not deserve your allegiance. Why be loyal to a failed and rotting corpse of an Empire? You could be your own man, if you join us."
"You forget I am Ultramarian," Torhay growled, "Courage and honour run in my blood. I will never turn, never."
Hornan's heart grew heavy as he said, "Then you have chosen your fate. I'm sorry but you must die. Still I will make it quick if you will only tell me where Commissar Landry is hiding."
Torhay grinned wickedly as he snorted, "I don't know and I wouldn't tell you if I did. Your mutiny will fail, Landry will see to that. None are as stalwart and unflagging as he."
"He is but one man."
"He is the Emperor's judgement and he is coming for you."
Hornan stared down at the defiant officer, ice in his chest as the certainty of what he had to do stole over him. He holstered his pistol and gripped his chainsword tight as he readied an executioners stroke. Ambos frowned as she said, "You don't want to shoot him?"
Hornan glanced at her for a moment as he replied, "No, I must do this with my own hand."
His distraction nearly cost him everything as Torhay suddenly burst into action. With surprising strength he ripped free of the hands of the two men holding him and threw himself at Hornan. He was surrounded and outgunned and would surely die in a moment, but a moment was more than enough to stab Juto fatally. His hook hand gleamed with a razor-sharp ting as he slashed low, trying to tear out Hornan's guts and leave him to die slowly and painfully.
Hornan saw the motion in the corner of his eye and reacted on reflex. Stepping forward he closed the range and the hook merely carved a bloody furrow across his hip. Pain flared in his flank but then a heavy impact slammed into him and rocked him back. Hornan found himself standing with Torhay leaning on his belly, the length of the chainsword plunged through the man's neck to spear out the other side. Torhay fell against the Captain, dying swiftly as blood poured down his chest and all over Hornan's trousers, making an awful wet sensation chill the Captain's thighs. His mouth worked silently, unable to utter any last words, then his eyes faded and he keeled over and died.
Hornan was left aghast, pulling his messy chainsword back as silence fell. He had killed Torhay, the best man he had known and as brave a soul as any. He didn't know what to think but then the crowd erupted into cheers, slapping his back and proclaiming his name. Ambos cuffed him on the shoulder and cried, "Well done Captain!"
"I…" Hornan breathed, "I…"
"Let's the same to the rest of 'em!" a mutineer cried and the yell was taken up, calling for blood and murder.
Hornan blinked as he realised he had to get ahead of this. He shoved his misgivings aside and called, "Aye, let's go get them! Onwards my brave lads, take the Carmilla for your own and let none stop you!"
The crowd cheered as they ran off, heading deeper into the lance arrays to find any who dared stood against them. Only Ambos lingered, carefully ignoring Torhay's corpse as she said, "Commissar Landry is going to be a problem, as long as he roams free there's no telling what will happen."
"A problem for later, Hornan growled as his hip throbbed in agony, "For now we concentrate on taking the ship, then we take the next step in breaking free of the fleet. Landry can wait; he is only one man after all."