Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 277

Around Nakara's third moon the Serpens Rex drifted. A once-mighty starfort from antiquity, now a desolate ruin. Vast sweeps of the base were exposed to hard vacuum, its hull ruptured a thousand times over and its defences were feeble. Fallen towers lay amid smashed void shield vanes, Cathedrums were opened to the stars and holes big enough to fly a gunship through lay gaping in its quadrants. The Serpens Rex was a shadow of its former glory, but it was the Amber Viper's home regardless.

Decades of toil had seen some sectors restored. Lights blazed along the bowridge quadrant, revealing occupation had expanded greatly. Within chattels laboured over workshops and foundries, toiling to forge bolt rounds and energy packs. Much of their work was Heretical, working with Xenos tools was forbidden by the Imperium, but their Transhuman masters cared not, so they carried on. A Lance array had been brought back to life, auspex was rudimentary but functional and an asteroid processor churned out raw materials as required.

A docking pier had been cleared to service the Viper's meagre fleet of frigates, and a single drydock had been made ready for the Revenge, the Chapter's lone Battlebarge. The fact they could barely steer the mighty ship was a black mark, forget actually fighting anyone, but it remained the greatest weapon of war the Chapter owned. Serpens Rex was the spiritual and martial home of the Amber Vipers, and today it would become so much more.

Coluber waited impatiently. Stood deep within the starfort, well inside the liveable quarter. The Chapter Master ignored the hammering of pistons and the smell of soldering, as nearby workshops continued their endless toil. Light was dim and the walls wet with condensation, hardly a fitting locale for so auspicious a ceremony, but he abided. Wonders enough would be seen this day.

The Brother-Exemplars stood guard outside a high door, marked with icons of the Machine God. A meagre ceremonial escort but they would do. The rest of the Masters were fidgeting impatiently, eager to be about their business, but the Chapter Master intended to be present when those doors opened, so all others could wait on his pleasure.

"How much longer?" Ferrac moaned.

"It will be as long as it takes," Shrios snapped.

"They could have least told us when to turn up," Ferrac pointed out.

"If you want to grab a recaff, be my guest," Reddam quipped.

Coluber allowed their banter, for the Sergeant was as bosom a comrade as any. All of them were 'Old Seventeen', Brothers from the Time of Exodus and the founders of the Chapter. The title had become a joke, casualties had whittled them down to less than a dozen, each a bitter loss, but the nickname had stuck.

Coluber had known them longer than the Chapter existed, back to a time when they marched in other colours, and would not rebuke any for speaking their minds. Reddam didn't technically have to be here, but since he made this possible none begrudged him.

"I can scarce believe this day has come," Reddam breathed.

"Believe it," Coluber assured him, "Ever since the debacle at Gobannus we have laboured on this, the most important project imaginable."

"It could have been finished years ago," Ferrac sniffed, "Had a certain someone not screwed it up."

Nathanal groaned, "How many times must I say, I am no Archmagos. My knowledge is scant, and my skills limited. I did the best I could, but I lack the Binaric language to bring the Machine Spirits to life."

Coluber eyed the mortal artisan with concern, for he sounded weary. Nathanal was the foremost adherent of the Cult Technis on board, but still was a mere lay-artisan. He'd worked day and night bringing the Serpens Rex to life, but he only knew so much. The highest arts of the Mechanicus were beyond him, and there was no getting around the fact he was ageing.

Chronology had become a nebulous concept for the Amber Vipers, always voyaging through the warp, jumping from sectors where time moved at a crawl, to regions where days blurred past in seconds. Coluber honestly couldn't say how long he had led the Chapter; all he knew was their recruiting cycles had reached double digits and Nathanal had become an old man. When he'd joined the Chapter the mortal had been in his prime, now his thin hair was a scraping of white over his scalp and he walked painfully with a limp that demanded a cane. Frankly he looked like he needed a nap.

"What will we do with it?" Reddam mused.

"Primus will claim it, naturally," Ferrac sniffed.

"Why Primus, why not Secundus?" Reddam argued.

"Primus is the best, so we deserve the best," Ferrac snorted.

"I'm getting mighty tired of hearing that," Reddam snorted, "Secundus is every bit the equal of Primus."

"Keep telling yourself that, Sergeant," the Battle-Captain laughed as Reddam's face darkened.

Coluber sighed, "Ferrac, you are my bosom comrade, but some days you truly are a loutish oaf."

"Only some days?" Ferrac grinned, "I must redouble my efforts!"

"Heed not the barking of the Catachan Toad, his voice is a snare for the unwary," spoke Maru Kysoto. Coluber glanced up at the warrior-mystic. A Librarian-Dreadnought, and the only Psyker they had. Osirian pattern, extremely rare and certainly not a member of the Old Seventeen. Maru was ancient, a relic of the Serpens Rex former owners, the original Amber Vipers who had died in glory. Maru was a survivor of that dead order, and not pleased to be living with the ruffians who stole his Chapter's identity. Still he was a force to reckoned with.

Maru was potent Psyker and learned philosopher. He had been the driving force in the Chpater's recent interest in specialisation, many squads harkening to his teachings of graceful combat katas. The training dojos they'd restored rang with the sounds of Space Marines honing skills passed down from the late Amber Vipers. Less interest had been given to Maru's lectures on poetry and philosophical discourse, much to his chagrin.

"Did you call me a toad?" Ferrac grunted.

"If the helm fits," Maru retorted.

"You wouldn't know, your pickled skull is too soft for a helmet anymore."

"Wasted breath, your insults are as feeble as your axe arm."

Ferrac rejoined, "Did I ever tell you how sorry I was to miss your funeral, last year?"

Coluber rolled his eyes. Unfortunately Maru and Ferrac had very different views on the future of the Amber Vipers. Maru dreamed of resurrecting the grace and beauty of his dead Brothers, Ferrac wanted a fierce warrior band, red in hand and spirit. Maru preached singular focus, to the exclusion of all else, Ferrac demanded every warrior be ready to fight with anything that came to hand. Maru taught philosophy and poetry of motion, Ferrac preferred to be drinking beer in the fighting arenas. Somewhere in the middle the rest of the Chapter lay.

Any further discussion was cut off as steam billowed out from the doors. All eyes locked forward as the gates parted and a procession emerged from within. There should be Binaric hymns, there should be cyber-cherubs flittering overhead but Coluber found wonder in the moment anyway. His mouth was dry and his hearts light, anticipation as he had not felt in decades making him giddy. Such glory, such a profound moment.

A quartet of servitors stepped forth, bearing a litter between them. Laid upon that bier was a suit of Ceramite armour, pristine in every way. Orange in hue, bearing the snake and goblet of the Chapter, but fresh and new. The pauldrons were covered in a layered ablative frill, and smaller versions ringed the hip joints, while the helm seemed odd, but it was undoubtedly a suit of Mark VII power armour. Newly forged and never worn.

"It's finished," Coluber breathed as he reached out and stroked a Ceramite greave.

Reddam whispered in awe, "The first new armour forged by the Chapter."

"Truly magnificent," Shrios concurred.

"I already know which Brother will wear it," Ferrac stated merrily.

"Show reverence!" Coluber snapped, "This is so much more than another armour for our ranks. This is the first time we have made our own plate. No digging up relics from forgotten battlefields, no scraping together of spare parts. Every piece of this suit was made right here, from materials we harvested ourselves. The Serpens Rex has just made a huge leap towards self-sufficiency, another step towards freeing us from sordid deals with governors and mercenary actions."

"You should thank me!" came a smug voice. From the steaming mist strode Lyreus, the Heretic Magos kidnapped from Nakara. The traitor swaggered out with a confident step, as well he should. Brought on board under protest he had been put to work, fixing errors in the production of this power armour. Quickly he'd realised how essential his knowledge was, and made exorbitant demands for his service.

"So you fixed the bugs?" Ferrac asked insolently.

"I rewrote your entire Binaric protocol!" Lyreus snapped, "Your incompetent buffoons were trying to copy-paste coding from mismatched plates, they couldn't tell an autosense-matrix from a waste-recycling regulator program. And don't get me started on the hardware errors, you would never have finished this armour without me!"

Reddam didn't sound impressed, "What's with these folded layers?"

Nathanal explained, "The power armour manufactory wasn't designed for Astartes, meant for some smaller frame of warrior I presume. We repurposed the Ceramite kilns, but suffered brittleness in these large pauldrons. An ablative layering will compensate, you won't notice a difference in protection. We covered the hip joints too; the gap was larger than intended."

"And this mess of helm?" Ferrac grunted.

"That was Maru's doing," Nathanal sheepishly explained.

Coluber saw the front had been engraved with a snarling face, with exaggerated features and overly large eyebrows that seemed like serpentine horns. An ablative frill had been fitted around the back too, running from ear to ear. He judged it would add no protection but the alterations gave it a feral appearance, like a primitive savage from some backwater, in a tinpot helm, yelling furiously.

"Such marks were encouraged in my day," Maru proclaimed, "Warriors were to dedicate themselves to individualising their armour."

"To make it look like they're constipated?" Ferrac asked.

"Do not mock what you do not understand," Maru chided.

"That doesn't leave him much to work with," Reddam snorted.

Coluber cut them short, "So long as it doesn't compromise the Machine Spirits, I see no problem with decoration."

"Excellent, then there's just the matter of our bargain," Lyreus declared.

"Bargain?" Ferrac asked in puzzlement.

"Yes, my knowledge was too valuable to give away without recompense, and there's only one thing I desire: freedom."

Reddam turned to Coluber, "Surely you didn't promise to let a Heretic go?!"

"Alas, I had to give him my word," Coluber sighed.

Maru sounded shocked, "Set free an avowed enemy of the Most Glorious Emperor, you break faith with the Golden Throne!"

Coluber lamented, "You don't have to remind me, but it was the cost I must pay. My word of honour, no less."

Ferrac turned to him, "My brother, you cannot stain your honour so. Let me kill him for you, let me be shamed, so you don't have to be."

"I cannot allow that Ferrac," Coluber sighed, "I gave my word to let Lyreus go free, what am I if I break my troth?"

Maru hissed, "I thought you were worthier than this, I was mistaken."

Lyreus sounded amused, "Vexing isn't it, your oath to Terra measured against your honour. I know what the given word of an Astartes means, what breaking a pledge means to you. Such a choice to make, your pride or your duty. I confess I agreed mostly to watch you squirm, I will replay it many times in my auto-recall subroutines, once I am safely away."

But Coluber looked at him, "Who said anything about you remembering this?" A gesture and the Brother-Exemplars sprang at the Heretic, grabbing his arms and forcing him to bend over. Lyreus squealed in alarm but Hasak seized the back of his robe and yanked, revealing the back of the metal head. Lyreus trashed but could not move an inch, especially when Coluber grabbed his head and held him as still as if in a vice.

"Betrayer!" Lyreus squealed, "You break your word!"

"I break nothing," Coluber snapped, "I swore to let you go free, and I shall. But you have seen the inner workings of my base, your memno-coils contain the secrets of the Serpens Rex, those are mine to keep."

Shrios pulled a power-driver from his belt and stepped forward, placing the tip against a small screw on the back of the Heretic's head. Metal bits whirred and the screw came free, then two others. Lyreus thrashed and wailed but could not shift a millimetre in their grip. Shrios gripped something and twisted, then pulled a squat cylinder from the Magos' head.

"Noooo..." Lyreus slurred, "Tahaaa... " Shrios ignored the protests as he repeated the procedure, removing both Memno-coils entirely. Lyreus was left with two gaping holes in the back of his skull, bored deep into his brain. His knowledge and experiences had been taken from him, leaving him a drooling simpleton.

"Ghhaaa..." Lyreus slurred, "Wattt... Karh... Burut..."

Coluber let go and ordered, "Take him to a cell and make sure he is fed and watered. We will drop him off at the next habitable planet we find. He shall have his freedom, as I vowed, but he is no threat to the Emperor's rule anymore."

"Blip!" Blip! Blip!" Lyreus burped as he was dragged away.

"Nicely done," Reddam laughed.

"It gave me no pleasure to do this," Coluber sighed.

"It did for me!" Ferrac laughed.

Shrios reached over and handed the Memno-coils to Nathanal, "Here you go, everything you need to know to make more armour."

"I will study the contents," Nathanal promised.

"So, are we done?" Ferrac sniffed.

"With this matter," Coluber affirmed, "But there is much yet to do, the Serpens Rex must be prepared. Living spaces expanded, vac-exposed sections made sealed and cleansed. I need all hands to dedicate themselves to this. We shall need more room, very soon."

"Wait, are we expecting someone?" Reddam asked perplexed.

"Indeed we are," Coluber informed them, "The Serpens Rex is about to have guests."