Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 352
From an observation blister Aronyx watched Lamentantor being pulled by tugs into drydock. The ruined vessel had not known safe harbour for many generations and he was rapt as the opening drew ever nearer. The gaping cavern was three kilometres wide and six high, and the bay beyond was sixteen long, and this was but one of four such shipyards sited on the Starfort. Aronyx felt awe creeping over him at the sight, the vast conurbation eclipsing the derelict ship entirely. To command such power was a heady prospect, he could scarce believe the might commanded by these Amber Vipers.
His eyes fell to the length of Lamentantor, lit by giant floodlights from the starfort, and took in the shattered ruin that was his home. He had been born in the bowels of this ship, taken for the Host before he knew his parents' names. Raised to serve the memory of Sanguinius, then inducted into the Blood proper, he had never known anything but the dilapidated state of his ship. He could not help but compare Lamentantor to the mighty bastions of Serpens Rex and find her wanting. Even dead Regnators were quiet for once, left in awe of the sight.
"Into the Carondon's maw," Rovenator grumbled.
"Patience, my Centurio," Aronyx warned, "We strike an alliance this day."
"Centurios past warn me against trusting outsiders too readily, they oft have knives hidden behind their backs."
"And yet Regnators past speak of great victories won with the aid of stalwart allies," Aronyx sighed.
Rovenator had no good answer as the bow of Lamenantor began to slide into the drydock. There was no sunlight this far out into the system to cast shadows, but the internal lights were different enough to give that impression. The Chapter-barque fit perfectly, able to slot into the dock like a bolt round into a magazine. Aronyx wondered at how well the two had been designed for one another, though they had never met before. Imperial standardisation in action.
Korinthus gripped his rod of office tight as he mused, "An Imperium that can build bases such as this, no wonder it stood for ten thousand years… stands that is."
Aronyx nodded, "To think Terra still holds, the world where the Blessed Sanguinius made his great sacrifice. Baal was not destroyed either, my head spins at the thought."
"What does it matter?" Rovenator sniffed.
Aronyx turned to look at his Centurio and asked, "You would not wish to gaze upon the birthworld of our species?"
"Not at the cost demanded," Rovenator snorted.
"You explain that," Korinthus hissed.
Rovenator glanced at the arch of the dock sliding along the ship's length then said, "These imperials come with their great starfort and call us cousin, but then make demands of us. They offer resupply, but only on their terms. They assume we are theirs to call and dismiss as they will, and Centurios past tell me this is typical of Terra. So what if their Imperium stands, it makes no difference to us. I never swore an oath to serve any Emperor… why would I, he was dead."
Korinthus growled, "We serve the memory of Sanguinius, and he pledged his bloodline's eternal service to his father. All his sons are bound by that oath."
"And where has this Imperium been while we suffered alone in the dark? Generations of misery and loss, without a word from this Throneworld! They did nothing to aid us, what do we owe Terra?"
Korinthus moved to rebuke the Centurio but Aronyx lifted a hand, "My Centurio raises a good point. We are the Blood, our ways are our own. Terra may stand, but that changes nothing for us We shall never visit the throneworld, never fight in any crusade. We shall continue our course as we ever have. Fighting for our own cause, taking what we must to survive, and seeking a beautiful death. These things shall never change."
The shadow of the drydock slid over them and Korinthus glanced up, "And what of these Vipers?"
"We shall take the promised due of their stockpiles, and see what has become of the galaxy beyond our known horizons. But do not think they have mastery over us. When the Blood has had its fill we will depart. And do not think I have forgotten the Angel's Revenge, that is a matter that shall be addressed in time."
The Lamenantor slid into the dock and came to a halt. Long hawsers extended from scaffolding along the walls and secured the vessel, as life support umbilicals and pressurised walkways connected along its length. Behind mighty doors began to close, containing the ship in tight confines as atmosphere was pumped in. The ability to work in shirtsleeves would accelerate the repairs exponentially, a loving embrace the wounded ship had not felt in many a generation.
Aronyx turned from the vista and departed, heading down into the ship. Rituals of embarkation must be conducted, and he had his role in them. The trio saw many curious faces as they passed, Host and Blood, and his face told them it was time to gather. From across the ship the brotherhood would gather, coming for the rituals.
Aronyx led them to the largest hold on the ship, a vast space in the bowels where the bulk of their army could gather. He entered a high catwalk and looked down upon the masses, thousands of mortals in red uniform, and a scattering of Ceramite. They stood in squads, many waiting alongside their jetbikes, but Aronyx noted gaps where brave souls should be. The sound of thousands was a dull roar, the heat of unwashed bodies tickled his cheeks and the smell of humanity was a haze in the air. Stark lumens lit the area, but other than that it was all bare walls and harsh metal deck.
"Our losses mount," the Regnator noted.
"We lost a score of Brothers in the assault," Korinthus lamented, "They died beautifully, but their absence still weakens us."
"Tell me the next cycle of recruits nears awakening."
"The sarcophaguses provide rapid induction, in a few weeks we will have fresh initiates, but I caution you our gene-seed grows scarce. Skoll reaped a fearful tally on our stocks, the future of the Blood grows uncertain."
Aronyx knew it was true, over a dozen wars Skoll had targeted their gene-seed stocks, defiling bodies so they could not be harvested and destroying shipments. He had reduced the Sacredos order to one, his axes culling the priesthood with merciless calculation. Skoll wanted to end the Blood, and Aronyx was keenly aware of how close he had come.
On a protruding balcony waited O'leia and Brovus, guarding their new allies as they looked down upon the crowds. The Amber Vipers were to be honoured by witnessing their rites of embarkation, a gesture past Regnators had suggested. Aronyx examined the strangers as he closed, seeing marks of victory and triumph on their plate. They had suffered losses, he could tell, but the pride on their faces told they had seen more victory than defeat. Above all he was taken in by how old they were, white in their hair, crow's feet about the eyes. He had never seen Space Marines of such age, and a dark stab of jealousy pierced his soul. These Amber Vipers had lives measured in centuries, while no Blood Talon had passed a mere hundred years without descending into an Infernae.
The thought of the Cursed made him look away, for the damned were not present. It would not do for outsiders to see the dark fate that awaited the Blood. Past Regnators were united in this, screaming inside his head that the Vipers could not be allowed to learn of the curse, this was their burden to bear alone. Aronyx glanced at Brovus, grim with his one arm. The Vipers did not know it but they had damned the warrior when they saved his life. Had Brovus died at Skoll's hand he would have been honoured, now he was fated to fall to corruption. His days grew few, soon he would be taken away to join the Infernae in their cryo-crypts. Better he had died in glory than suffer such a fate, better to die in the image of Sanguinius than live to become a vile monster.
Aronyx shook off the thought as he stepped onto a viewing platform and heard the tall Techmarine say, "They have jetbikes, by the Red Sands where did they get jetbikes?!"
The captain with the jump pack and a notched chainaxe grunted, "I thought Cawl was making all kinds of grav-vehicles."
"Not jetbikes," the Techmarine retorted, "His grav-plates are based upon Votann designs, and they don't make them so fleet."
Aronyx stepped up and called, "Do Chapters not have jetbikes normally?"
"Nobody does," the Techmarine sighed.
He was strange this one, in armour of unknown pattern and tall. He kept his helm on constantly but his arms were highly polished augmetics of some fashion. Aronyx had seen many strange wonders, but this Space Marine was unnerving. He found himself wondering what else was going on in the galaxy that he didn't know about, and what secrets of their own the Vipers hid.
"Kerubim, here's been poking through your ship," the Captain sniffed.
"Ferrac speaks truly, I have undertaken a preliminary survey," Kerubim agreed.
"You can make good our wounds?" Aronyx asked.
"Sadly a full restoration is beyond us," Kerubim sighed, "All our stocks combined could not restore your vessel, that would take a Forgeworld's output. But I can do much to relieve your Machine Spirits. I have thousands of artisans and Tech-priests waiting to consecrate your ship. Give us a few months and you will be astonished at the work we can do."
Dead Regnators warned against letting outsiders into the Infernae vaults and Aronyx said, "I caution you there are sacred places in our ship, templums and shrines that are death for any not of the Blood to behold. I cannot permit you full access."
Ferrac growled, "And I caution you that I am putting squads on guard around our stores. Just in case you find our generosity lacking."
"You accuse us of being thieves?!" Rovenator snarled.
Ferrac's iron mask did nothing to hide his scorn, "Coluber thinks you allies, but I am not so trusting. I will be watching you, and if I see a hint of treachery I will rip off your arms and beat you to death with them."
Rovenator's fists clenched, "You have insulted us repeatedly since we met, and my patience grows thin. The Blood does not tolerate slurs on our character."
Ferrac snorted, "Try me boy, I've gutted harder Marines than you. Cross me and you will feel the viper's bite, before this is over Blood will be taught to respect Venom."
Aronyx bristled but then Coluber called out, "Ferrac, stop goading our new friends!"
Ferrac stepped aside but whispered, "I'm watching you, always watching."
Aronyx lifted his chin and moved to Coluber's side as the viper lord smiled, "Forgive my Battle-Captain, he's rather protective of me. He thinks he's my nursemaid."
Aronyx didn't find anything funny in it but said, "Words are but wind in the hair, deeds have value."
Coluber nodded, "I must introduce you to our Chief Librarian, you and he would get on famously. But first, you said there was a ritual?"
Aronyx lifted his arms to declare, "Children of Sanguinius! Today we enter a new page in our history. Friends unlooked for have come to our side with wondrous news. Rumours you have heard that the Imperium still stands and the Emperor's rule endure, I tell you these are all true. I see the astonishment in your eyes, and the questions, but I assure you all that we remain who we have ever been. Our cause has not changed, nor has our nature. We shall reaffirm our creed, as we ever have. Blood shall lead!"
From the rear came a procession, led by Korinthus' acolyte. Solemn heads were bowed and grey hands clasped holy tokens, but none were more sacred than the Black Chalice. All parted to allow the hallowed artefact to pass, as silence fell across the hall. This moment was sacrosanct, and even the Vipers were awed by the reverence filling the hall.
Korinthus took the Black Chalice in his hands and declared, "Blood of our gene-father, the essence of his soul. Behold the union that binds us all, and the destiny he laid before us. By Sanguinius' will do we give battle, and in his name we lay down our lives with glad hearts. Renew your oaths and taste of his vitae."
Aronyx knelt before the Black Chalice and in sight of all pledged, "I swear fealty and obedience to the cause of Sanguinius. As he led so I shall follow. I shall not rest, I shall not waver in pursuit of his will and by his example shall I live. The Great Angel commands, and we obey."
"Then drink of his lifeforce, and know his will," Korinthus intoned.
The Black Chalice was offered and the Regnator took the smallest sip. It was a mere taste but the heady power filled his being. Surety of purpose, the expunging of doubt and fear. He was elevated, but also the dark heart of his being was empowered. The rage and the thirst were parts of him too, and the vitae awakened them. His being ached with wroth, but it did not overpower him. The Primarch was with him, offering understanding and fortitude, his nature was two-fold and this was entirely right. Sangunius' spirit was upon him and for an instant Aronyx knew what his gene-father felt every day of his life. The power of rage was bound to purity of purpose, elevating both to supreme heights.
Aronyx lifted his eyes and declared, "Blood brings victory."
"Blood is life!" the crowd roared in approval as the Vipers watched on.