Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 283

Coluber stood nervously in his armour and tried not to fidget. The day had come at last, so long dreamt of that it had become a sad jest in his own mind. Today the Amber Vipers would meet another Space Marine Chapter, not as a browbeaten subordinate, not as unwilling host to unwelcome guests, but as genuine equals. Coluber would look into the eye of a peer, one he could respect, and be greeted in turn as a worthy ally. He had worked for a lifetime to achieve this goal and still could scarce believe it had come to pass.

Along the dock-jetty the Amber Vipers waited, all four hundred of them. The noise of massive clamps latching to a starship filled the air with growling, drowning out the humming generators of power armour. The air was cold from lack of heating and the deck plain but buffed to a mirror sheen. Threadbare the Amber Vipers may be, but none could fault their pride.

To his left Primus Cohort stood in resplendent ranks, their armour gleaming and bolters held upright in parade rest. There had been a few grumbles but the Old Seventeen had put those down, snapping at less than perfect stances and triple-checking none of the younger generations had sneaked in a Tau pistol, or other Xenos artefacts. Coluber spied Sergeant Tarkus among them, one of the most senior and respected of First Generation Brothers, who had been gifted with the virgin armour and wore it proudly.

To his right Secundus waited, slightly less glorious as the majority wore scout-plate and few could boast power armour. A handful hid faces behind tied rags or bucket helms, Aberrants who could not mask their deformity with Ceramite plate. Coluber could only trust they passed scrutiny and if pressed would claim it was religious practices from assorted homeworlds. Still they all held their heads high and kept eyes forward, presenting a solid mass of stubborn pride few could fault. Tertius held the flanks, the Snakelets muttering among themselves sullenly, but with washed faces and with fatigues so crisp one could smell the starch.

Nearer his closest advisors stood. Shrios, Maru, Nathanal, the Brother-Exemplars Seyda and Hasak. Berio had not come, and Coluber was glad of it, the Cerberii had no place here. Then there was Ferrac. The Battle-Captain stood out like a sore thumb, his plate as scratched and chipped as it ever was. Ferrac alone had scorned the idea of spit and polish, casually claiming he forgot what day it was as he shrugged his axe-rake and grinned. Coluber could hardly rebuke him in front of everyone, but would have stern words for his comrade later.

Steam began billowing from broad hatches as docking gantries extended into the drydock. They called it that but the hanger was cracked by damage and could not hold air. The visitors would have to cross to the jetty, where greetings would be exchanged. Subtly Coluber checked his relic blade Venom was set perfectly and his Phospor-fusil, or 'Phusil' was resting perfectly in its holster.

"Keep it up and you'll drop them," Ferrac muttered.

"Not now," Coluber growled.

"You sound annoyed," Ferrac scoffed.

"You and I will have words about your slovenly appearance," Coluber hissed, "You are growing careless."

But Ferrac sniffed, "It's not carelessness, it's calculation. The Storm Heralds know who we are, and what we are. A bit of spit and polish won't impress them. Better to show them our honest scars and be frank. Let them judge us by the battles we've waged, not how shiny we can get our plate."

Any further chat was cut short as the far doors opened. Billowing steam ushered from a half-dozen doors as they spilt down the middle, revealing long tunnels disappearing into the distance. A wide sweep of deck separated the Amber Vipers from the entrances but still Coluber could see figures marching into the light. Transhuman, clad in blue and grey Ceramite, and with light glinting off honour markings and glory-kill tallies.

Instantly Coluber saw the difference between his motley band and these noble warriors. The Amber Vipers had dragged themselves up to a semblance of pride, but these Space Marines radiated dignity, self-respect ingrained into every inch of their being. The sleek shine of their plate, the perfect way they held their weapons at march, the utter focus of their eye lenses on their objective. There was no distraction among them, no fidgeting or idle glances, even their footsteps were synchronised to perfection, a hundred boots hitting the ground as one, like a machine of war honed to the uttermost degree. The Storm Heralds didn't have to try to act noble, they simply were, martial excellence ran through their veins like heart-blood.

A hundred Marines came to a perfect rest before the Amber Vipers and a party of officers stood at their head. Coluber saw they had changed much in the many decades since he last saw them, but there was no mistaking Captain Toran. Still with his own relic blade and red cloak, though his augmetic eye had been replaced by a multi-lensed model. His scars had accumulated and his expression was grim, hiding distaste poorly. With a sinking feeling Coluber realised Ferrac had been right, all the polish in the galaxy couldn't hide the Amber Viper's roughhewn nature. Ferrac was the only one presenting an honest face to their guests, and the Storm Heralds knew it.

Hastily Coluber stepped forward, "Hail cousins. I am Coluber and I offer you safety and a warm welcome to my halls."

Toran replied archly, "Hail cousin, at the behest of Chapter Master Phalros I come to attend the High Conclave."

"Your presence is accepted and in the name of the Emperor I offer you parley. I vouchsafe your life and your Brother's, no harm shall come to you while you are my guest. So swears the Amber Vipers."

"I accept your word as given and return it in kind, neither I nor mine shall spill blood so long as the conclave continues," Toran affirmed.

The formal greetings were over and Coluber grinned, "I am glad it was you who came."

"It seemed fitting," Toran stated without warmth, "You have changed much since last we parted ways. I confess I am surprised how much you have acquired in a mere forty years."

"Forty years for you," Coluber explained, "For us… well I honestly can't tell you how many decades it has been."

"Enough to build a sizeable warband and capture a ship and base of noteworthy strength," Toran pointed out.

"Our adventures are quite a tale," Coluber sighed, "But let me introduce my advisors. Apothecary Shrios and Battle-Captain Ferrac. Chief Techno-artisan Nathanal and this is Maru Kysoto."

If Toran remembered the mortal serf he gave no sign, but he looked at Maru, "A Dreadnought?"

"Librarian-Dreadnought," Coluber corrected, "An ancient warrior who lends us his counsel. Say hello Maru."

Maru spake aloud, "Across void voyaged, sunlight breaks over the bow, a star to steer by."

Toran's one eye blinked, "Is that… a poem?"

"Of a style favoured in ancient days," Maru explained.

For the first time doubt creased Toran's brow, "I… wasn't expecting poetry from you."

"You will find we are full of surprises," Coluber grinned.

Toran nodded, "Shrios, Ferrac, it's been a long time."

Ferrac grunted, "Not long enough."

Coluber winced but Toran blinked, "Have I offended you?"

"The question is, have we offended you? You didn't use to be so prickly."

"Times change," Toran sighed as he unconsciously brushed his left wrist, "The galaxy is upturned, enemies abound and a Primarch walks abroad."

"Met him, wasn't impressed," Ferrac sniffed.

"You met the Lord Guilliman?!" Toran started, "That was not in the reports."

"Yes," Coluber hastily cut in, "But that is yet another lengthy tale. I recognise you, but not these others."

Toran glanced to the side where a Primaris Marine stood, "Brother-Lieutenant Smyth, he is as firm a comrade as one could wish. This here is Novak Titanslayer, our honoured Dreadnought."

"Titanslayer?" Coluber asked with a note of disbelief.

"A deserved title," the war machine affirmed.

Ferrac chipped in, "I recognise that name, you were that mouthy champion."

"What of it?"

Ferrac looked him up and down then sniffed, "Didn't you used to be shorter?"

Novak scoffed, "Didn't you used to have a face?"

Shrios snorted in amusement but Maru intoned, "Flee bonds of the flesh, discover deeper knowledge, gain greater wisdom."

Novak ground his torso to face his counterpart and stated, "You think you're clever, with your funny little words, this is not so hard."

Incensed Maru snapped, "The breaching minnow, surfs the highest wavetops, and dreams of flying."

Novak retorted, "Poems are easy, but sometimes they don't make sense, Astronomican."

Coluber's gaze flashed back and forth between the two Dreadnoughts but Maru sounded shocked, "You have studied the verses of Nippour IX?!"

"Never heard it before, but the sentence structure is obvious," Novak retorted.

Maru fell silent but Toran continued, "Anyway… you've met Brother-Lieutenant Persion."

"Persion!" Ferrac called with a grin, "You have bloody some cheek coming to my home!"

"This is your home, I thought it was a latrine!" Persion called back.

"You insult my house," Ferrac growled.

"I speak as I find," Persion sniffed.

A moment passed then both broke out into laughter, and Persion guffawed, "Good to see you aren't dead!"

"Not for lack of trying," Ferrac chortled.

"I see you copied my axe," Persion chuckled, "You picked up a jump pack too."

"Lets me get into the fight faster, that's why they made me a Captain."

"That explains the face, but a Captain, that's a bit lordly for street-hoodlum like you isn't it?"

"Some may be content to be a mere Lieutenant, others aim higher," Ferrac grinned.

Their bond of friendship warmed Coluber's heart enough to forgive Ferrac anything, the first real bond of comradery he'd seen between the Chapters. Even Toran seemed to unwind a hair as he continued, "May I introduce the envoy of Belisarius Cawl, Archmagos Castabore."

From the ranks a tub of a machine glided forward, waving Mechandrites high. Coluber recognised a high worthy of the Cult Mechanicus and nodded, "Archmagos, on behalf of…"

He cut off as Castabore glided straight past him and rolled up to Maru barking, "Who has been in charge of maintenance rites on this Dreadnought?!"

Coluber and Toran shared a confused glance, "Is there a problem?"

Castabore snapped, "Problem?! Yes, there's a rusting problem! Some cack-handed slipshunt has been making a pisspoor attempt at ritual consecrations on this Dreadnought. These fibre-cables here are too long, they'll catch in the joints. Those purity seals have been incorrectly applied and this ammonitic-fluid pump… Holy Cog… someone installed this pump upside down! When I catch whichever cretin has been playing hide-the-gremlin I will have them rendered down to a waste-processing servitor!"

Out of the corner of his eye Coluber noted Nathanal inching behind Shrios but aloud said, "If you have some improvements to suggest, we would gladly listen."

Castabore ignored him as she addressed Maru, "Haven't you noticed a degradation in your motivators?"

"I have been slowing somewhat," Maru confessed.

"Slow is the least of it," Castabore lamented, "You'd be dead inside your shell in another decade. You and I are going straight to a machine shrine this instant, so I can undo this bodge-job of a blessing."

Coluber asked, "I take it then you intend to make good your offered services to our vehicles and base, as a goodwill gesture?"

"Call it what you will," Castabore snapped, "I am not willing to leave a poor helpless Machine Spirit in the hands of these rank amateurs. This Dreadnought cries for my ministrations and those tanks you told me about too. Throne, I shudder to imagine what your drooling simpletons have been doing to this Starfort."

Toran interrupted, "Coluber, surprises abound. It seems there is more to discuss than I imagined."

Coluber agreed, "You're not the only one, this is not how I expected our meeting to go. Perhaps it would be best if I gave you a tour of my base."

"I accept gladly, but first my Company needs a billet."

"Of course," Coluber acceded, "I will arrange quarters for your Brothers, and an escort to the Machine shops for the Archmagos. Then allow us to walk together, there is much I would tell you."