Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 275

Smoke whipped across his faceplate as the Forge blurred past, fuming ruins spilling choking smog into their path. Drakones shot through it like a missile, flying so fast the Frost-field left glittering particles of ice in their wake. Workshops and Machine Shrines hurtled by so fast no mortal could have avoided a deadly collision, but Brother-driver Greyin manoeuvred confidently, steering around every obstacle with adroit handling. Chapter Master Coluber was confident he was not about to die in a fiery crash so allowed himself to enjoy the moment. In truth he loved the feel of Drakones set loose, his personal chariot weaving a path through the battlefield at an eye-watering pace.

Below the industries of Harshema spread, covering a dense plain of crusted lava upon the surface of Nakara. Harshema was vast and sprawling, compared to the compact conurbations typical of this Forgeworld. Its industries were extensive, its reliquaries filled with revered examples of the Machine God. Harshema was the crown jewel of Nakara, which meant it had become the front line of the conflict.

Drakones sped past battling units of Skitarii, traditional scarlet robes clashing with the maroon hues of rebellion. Shots were traded between dug-in units, stomping Onagers laid down spreads of fire, while hunter-automatons drifted along, firing missiles randomly into knots of resistance. It was hard to tell which side was which, since both used the same weapons and tactics, only the hues of their robes separating them. Coluber was well aware that those colours could be reversed simply by turning coats inside out, and frequently had, as home Forges shifted allegiance in an incomprehensible web of treachery and betrayal.

The current rebels were dug-in around a sacred Autocaduceus, ideally positioned to dominate the west of Harshema. From here they had rebuffed several attempts to dislodge them, culling any whom approached from its high bastions. The rebels had good reason to be confident, the mathematics of war favoured them, but a new factor had been added to the equations. Orange-clad Space Marines, driving in from the west in a tide of vengeful fury, a power they could not dream to resist.

Drakones jinked as Greyin dodged a drifting Automaton's attempt to swat them down with a missile. The relic Frost-field should protect them, but there was no point taking chances. Coluber held on tight and tried not to compare Greyin to his former driver, who had died only last year to a Scythian's poisoned knife. Greyin was young but remarkably skilled, and had passed rigorous trial to be entrusted with the Chapter Master's life. Drakones sped past but not before Brother-gunner Hyia swivelled his plasma cannon and put a shot into the Automation that reduced it to slag.

"Too close," Brother-Exemplar Hasak grumbled at his side.

"Nearly got us," Brother-Exemplar Seyda grunted, "I've got scars wider than that miss."

"We live, leave it at that," Coluber retorted, "Look alive, here comes Primus!"

A solid wedge of tracked vehicles was pushing forward, Rhino Transports, grinding through small arms fire. The pride of Primus Cohort, the sledgehammer of the Chapter, won at great cost. They pushed through incoming shots, while Brothers in power armour returned fire from open roof hatches. At their flanks ghosted smaller figures in scout-plate, the Snakelets of Tertius Cohort, protecting the mechanised thrust from hidden infantry. Behind came a wedge of drifting grav-transports, loyalist Tech-guard. They were determined to be present at the assault, but all knew it would be the Amber Vipers who would carry the day.

"Lascannon battery ahead," Greyin reported smoothly, "They'll flank the assault."

"Not while I draw breath," Coluber snapped, "Take us at them!"

Drakones veered so hard mortal spines would have snapped and Coluber's vision greyed for a moment. The Land Speeder Storm was manoeuvrable and fast, able to turn on a pin, in human hands it would have been a responsive aerial dancer, steered by Transhuman reflexes it was unbelievably agile. Drakones pivoted in mid-air and tore at the dug-in rebels. Twin assault cannons under the chin let rip, as Hyia blazed plasma. The Frost-field stuttered to allow the shots to pass, and tracers tore through the defences. Bodies fell, weapons toppled and oil sprayed wide as the Land Speeder shot over.

Return fire pelted their rear armour, frozen bullets and leeched energy drained by the arcane defence. Robbed of its power but still striking the turbines' housing. Greyin jinked and weaved but Coluber was offended. These traitors had dared strike the master of the Amber Vipers, this deserved redress.

"Bring us about and prepare to disembark!" Coluber commanded. Drakones veered right, swinging wide so as not to approach from a predictable direction. The Land Speeder levelled, then flew straight, then braked hard. Instantly Coluber and the Brother-Exemplars leapt clear, passing through the Frost-field slow enough to not die. Before their boots hit the ground the Land Speeder tore off, seeking new targets but Coluber had other worries.

He hit the ground amid a knot of Skitarii, the metal-men struggling to right their lascannons. Coluber drew his relic blade Venom and with one sweep of the curved edge tore the spine out of the first foe. They reacted with Augmented speed but Coluber was faster, he ripped out the wire-guts of a second Tech-guard, sheared the head off a third and took the arm off a fourth before he suffered a return blow. He was a fiendish devil in a fight but the enemy were many. Skitarii blurted Binaric threats as they surrounded him, crackling knives drawing sparks from his steaming Mark V armour, and scarring the blackened pauldron of mourning he wore.

Coluber would have been in trouble, save that the Brother-Exemplars were with him. Hasak and Seyda engaged with long staves, tipped with contact Volkite effects. Their hands blurred and Skitarii started dying. Metal melted and grey skin burst into ashes as the Burst-lances did their lethal work. Ancient relics of the Dark Age of Technology, the weapons alone would have made the wielders deadly but in the hands of Brother-Exemplars they were death incarnate. Schooled in katas of blademanship, the pair advanced through the foe like a Land Crawler through a field of wheat. Their weapons spun so fast no mortal eye could discern them, and everything within reach was decimated. In seconds they had reduced a score of Skitarii to broken parts and whips of ash floating on the breeze. For good reason were they considered the elite of the Chapter.

Coluber strode past, confident the threat of ambush was ended and saw Primus Cohort reach their objective. Orange Space Marines poured out of their vehicles and threw themselves at the foe. Their goal was a cluster of hydra batteries, providing air cover to the rebels. Well defended and manned by bold warriors, but no match for the Amber Vipers.

Coluber watched as Torvus squad laid down barrages of firepower, conventional Bolters added to by Tau pulse rifle fire and Phosphor cannons. Those Skitarii who weren't blown to bits were riddled through by micro-plasma or burned alive in incandescent flares. Squad Mingor laid into bodies with Dark Eldar agoniser-glaives, the spitting weapons causing nervous systems to overload at the slightest touch. Squad Vertin pressed the assault with dappled-steel swords, wielded with sublime grace. The quasi-mystical combat katas taught by the warrior-poet Maru Kysoto had found great favour with these Brothers.

The mix of traditional weapons, Heretical Xenos tools and ancient skills was too much for the Skitarii to bear. They fell by the hundred, mowed down with barely a casualty on the Amber Viper's side. The flak battery was sure to fall, but then came Battle-Captain Ferrac. On roaring jump packs they flew, the fierce warrior leading his favoured comrades of Anaxar squad into the fray. Ferrac slammed into the midst of the reeling defenders and laid about with savage glee. His axe-rake tore bodies apart, flinging metal shards and bone fragments everywhere. His sledgehammer gun broke the backs of any who tried to hang back, sending them flying away in disturbing U-shapes as their spines folded over. Ferrac was in his element and none could stand in his way. By the time Coluber reached the battery, there were none left to kill.

"A fine day for killing!" Coluber called merrily as he jogged up.

"Culling the Emperor's foes always feels good," Ferrac laughed as he gunned his axe-rake's motor to clear blood and oil from the chainteeth.

"Make sure you didn't leave any alive," Coluber reminded him.

"Do I ever?" Ferrac jested.

Coluber left his old comrade to it as he turned, seeing white-clad figures moving among the fallen. Apothecary Shrios and his sawbones, the small cadre of specialists he had personally trained to become a new order of warrior-healers. In their young hands the future of the Chapter rested, and they went to work with admirable diligence, tending wounds and harvesting gene-seed. That caught Coluber's eye.

"Casualties?" Coluber called with concern.

"Few," Shrios reassured him, "A few scrapes and bruises, only two deaths since the assault started."

"I'm calling in the second wave. Gather the gene-seed and then let the squads perform the Rite of the Dead," Coluber ordered.

"I'm dealing with it," Shrios retorted, "You deal with the Cog-frakkers."

Coluber saw the Skitarii element pull up at last, too late to the fight, as usual. They disembarked with crisp precision, but Coluber wasn't impressed. The Tech-guard had let this civil war grind on for years, and he suspected many of those present had fought for the rebels, at one point or another. At their head a Dominus with a gold fringe to his robes and a metal face sculpted to angelic perfection strutted, as if he'd won the fight and not the Amber Vipers.

Coluber strode over, "Save your preening Jarud, the fight is over."

"The fight has barely begun!" Dominus Jarud snapped, "This is but the first sum in the formula of victory."

"I know battle better than you," Coluber growled, "If you had done your job this war would have been over long ago."

"Do not criticise the Taghmata of Nakara," Jarud rebuked, "We had the situation in hand."

"If that was true, I wouldn't be here."

"Then leave, we can take the holy Autocaduceus without you."

That made Coluber glance east, where the rebel's fortification loomed against the skyline. A vast cube of Ferrocrete and plasteel, adorned with towering smokestacks and many, many guns. Wide doors at the front loomed, large enough to permit a pair of Baneblades to pass, and indeed they often had. Built by a venerated sage of antiquity, the shrine was a holy site to the Tech-Priests, famed across the Segmentum for the intricacies of its auto-repair vestibules. It was said the hallowed devices within could repair any vehicle, of any template, no matter how badly damaged. Truly the Autocaduceus of Scotti the Enginseer was a marvel of technology.

"You understand the rebels will fight to the bitter end to hold that fortification," Coluber pointed out.

"Understood, but irrelevant," Jarud sniffed.

"It's very relevant, you haven't the forces to dislodge them," Coluber argued, "You propose a bloodbath."

"No matter the cost the scions of Mars will pay it," Jarud proclaimed, "The Autocaduceus shall not be allowed to rest in the hands of Heretics, the Machine God demands it. No matter how many lives we must spend, victory shall be ours."

Coluber growled, "Then it's a good job you aren't in command."

"What…" Jarud began to say but then a flight of dark dots appeared in the west. Low-flying jets, sweeping into the narrow corridor the Amber Vipers had opened in the air-defence net. Coluber could see them clearly with his autosenses, swift Lightning fighters and gull-winged Deathbirds, all piloted by the best of Secundus. They flew low and fast, avoiding random tracers that tried to swat them from the sky.

The rebels saw them coming and the Autocaduceus lit up with defensive fire. Fighters skipped and weaved to draw attention, while the Deathbirds let fly missiles and plasma shots from underslung cannons. A pair of jets were struck and went spiralling into the streets but their barrage smote the defences most cruelly. Gun emplacements exploded, targeting auspexes disappeared in avalanches of debris and gunners were pulped by spreading explosions as thunder rolled over the neighbouring districts.

"Stop, stop! You'll damage the relics!" Jarud howled in dismay.

"Damage them, I've barely begun," Coluber hissed.

In the wake of the flight came a larger craft, squat and unlovely. Dark it was, floating on a cloud of anti-grav and fitted with twin laser destroyers. Black was its hull, save for the icon of the red hand, mark of the Cerberii. Doombringer it was named, herald of woe, forerunner of strife and bearer of destruction. The noise of its engines preceded death and its shadow was the left hand of ruin.

Doombringer made one pass over the shrine and from its belly fell a single canister. Spherical, tall as a man and stamped with warnings of destruction most dire. Coluber watched entranced as the bomb struck thick walls and split open, spilling noxious green fog from within. Instantly the building began to crumble, Ferrocrete riddled through like cheese as metal deformed and flesh disintegrated. The fog spread rapidly, catching the defenders in its toxic claws and devouring them alive. They ran, they prayed, they fired their weapons into the mist but no matter what they did they died all the same.

Coluber watched as the shrine's flank began to fold inwards, sagging like a paper hat caught in a rainstorm. The outer walls collapsed into the interior, as the mist poured upon ancient and irreplaceable devices. Fire licked the walls as chemicals ignited but were swiftly overrun by green, the fog boring through the shrine and annihilating all it found. Nothing could withstand the toxic miasma, all was fuel for the calamity.

"Phospex, surely not Phospex," Jarud breathed in horror, "What have you done?!"

"I've just won Harshema for you," Coluber informed the aghast Dominus.

"But… but… but the sacred Autocaduceus!"

"Would have withstood your feeble assault, and cost me many Brothers. Its removal opens the entire western flank of the Forge. So long as we avoid that grid-sector we can drive into the heart of the complex and defeat the rebels in one fell swoop. Victory is within our grasp."

Jarud spun on his heel, "You speak of victory?! You destroyed the Autocaduceus of Scotti the Enginseer! A most holy altar unto the Machine God!"

"This is war," Coluber sniffed, "Casualties are inevitable."

"You… you blasphemer!" Jarud howled, "This is sacrilege! You desecrate the Omnissiah's holy places!"

"Do you want to win or not?" Coluber grunted.

"I shall report this profanity to the highest authorities, the Forge-Synod, no, the Archmagos himself! You understand me, Archmagos Sinclair will hear of your profanity!"

But Coluber grinned under his helm, "Exactly as planned."