Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 278
"One, two, three, heave!" came the cry. Kazao responded by dragging back on the chain with both hands. Across the corridor the rest of the squad did likewise, Tebes, Larus and Joffel hauling at thick hawsers. Ahead the tangle of debris came apart, as the hooks driven into the wreckage split it open. It had been tightly bundled into the confines but the force of four Space Marines made that irrelevant. Inert wreckage was no match for Astartes' strength.
Kazao dropped the cable as chattels streamed past, bulky in their vac-suits. Glassic faceplates revealed weary men and women hauling loose girders away, while cutting teams in riveted helms went to work with melta-torches. With a score of bustling menials clearing the obstruction it was but a few minutes work to clear the passage, but they did not press on. First Nathanal hobbled past, slow in his cumbersome vac-suit. The artisan made a show of inspecting the supporting girders, making sure the rest of the roof didn't come down on their heads.
"This is servitor work," Joffel grumbled.
"It is the task we have been assigned," Tebes stated firmly, "A Space Marine does not whine."
"The Amber Vipers do!" Joffel laughed, "And I'm saying this is make-work. Reddam wants us busy, while he polishes his armour."
"He does seem inordinately concerned with his appearance all of a sudden," Larus allowed.
"Probably that new armour everyone's harping on about, it's got the Old Seventeen all riled up."
That made Kazao glance at his Brothers. The squad's armour was not the pristine and virgin plate, so recently revealed. Their plate was a mismatch of ill-suited parts, generously called Mark V. Cobbled together out of the remains of broken suits and the dregs of the treasure trove of Athelling. They wore it well but there was no denying its rough nature. Chipped around the edges, scuffed by hard battle and in places the amber hue had been scraped so much grey Ceramite could be seen. They serviced their plate's spirit dutifully, the armour functioned without flaw, but spit and polish was not compulsory, in the younger Amber Viper's mind.
Tebes sniffed, "There's something big going on."
"I know," Kazao agreed, "Why the sudden rush to clear more sections of the Serpens Rex? Why so much secrecy?"
"Could be something to do with Nakara," Larus guessed, "Maybe the Tech-Priests want to reward us."
Kazao snorted, "The only reward they'd send would involve a salvo of plasma torpedoes."
Joffel's helm crooked sideways, "I wonder what they're not telling us?"
Larus snorted, "A lot, as usual we're the last to know anything."
"We are not in the Chapter Master's confidences," Tebes argued, "It is not our place to question orders."
"Oh, stop being such a stick in the mud," Joffel retorted.
"I am right," Tebes countered.
"You're always right, that what's so annoying about you," Larus teased.
Kazao ignored them, for he was growing thirsty. He stepped back into the shadows and took a bottle from his belt. His armour's life support systems could replenish itself for months but it tasted like recycled piss, which it was. He made sure no one was looking then spilt his helm open and pushed the drink straw inside. Scaled flesh and red eyes forced him to hide his face from others, a mutated visage was offensive to normal people. Kazao tried not to resent them for it, the Imperium was built on such prejudices, but he wished every day his gene-seed had not been aberrant.
"How many of those are you going to drink?" Larus asked as Kazao returned.
"I'm thirsty," Kazao sniffed.
"You're always thirsty these days," Joffel pointed out, "Day and night, maybe you should get checked out."
"Maybe you should keep your opinions to yourself," Kazao snapped.
Tebes sounded nonplussed, "We're concerned that's all, you are acting strangely."
"Because I always win in our training bouts?"
"We let you win, out of pity," Joffel retorted.
"Keep telling yourself that," Kazao laughed.
Tebes stepped closer, "Kazao, you grow stronger every day, that is good but don't be stupid. If you're having problems then let Shrios check you out."
"It's nothing," Kazao argued, "My armour's leaking rads again, it dries my tongue."
"Kazao," Tebes insisted.
"As you will," Kazao sighed, "Only if to shut you up."
Their conversation was cut short as the final checks were made and Nathanal called them over. Other chattels dragged wheezing machines behind, pumping air into the vacuum that had dwelt in the abandoned sections of the Starfort. The aged mortal clomped along, leaning on a metal cane. Kazao could not help but note how old he'd become, and what that meant for the rest of them. Astartes lived centuries, millennia even, but time had other ways of marking them. Would he too be considered old someday, he wondered.
"I can feel your eyes on my back," Nathanal snapped, "I'm not going to die today."
"I wasn't," Kazao protested.
"Don't cheek me. When I was young I showed you Space Marines a thing or two! Why there was this one gang of hoodlums, always riding their bikes over Heretics, thought they were clever but I beat some sense into them, I can tell you."
Joffel laughed, "Nathanal, we were there, that was us and you didn't beat anyone."
"Tarnation, I forgot it was you scruffy louts. So many snakelets these days, it's hard to tell you apart. Wait a second, I thought you died in that Necron business."
"Only Glord," Larus muttered sullenly.
Kazao felt his guts grow cold. Glord, a lost brother, dead in victory but keenly missed. Always laughing, always finding the mirth in everything. He'd made their wars a merry adventure, till he passed. Things had never been the same since, their days darker and fights grimmer. Kazao missed Glord, they all did, but none more than Larus, they had been close.
A massive door blocked their path, sealed tight and foreboding. Kazao punched a runepad but nothing happened, the locking mechanisms were sealed fast by millennia sitting in absolute zero. He looked to see if there was a way around, but none were to be found. They'd hit a dead end.
"This isn't opening as it should," Kazao declared.
"We need a heavy Multimelta," Tebes declared.
"Or a Rhino with a bulldozer attachment," Larus groaned.
"Ha, don't know everything do ya?!" Nathanal snorted, "Give me a micro-lathe."
"What?" Kazao blinked.
"A micro-lathe, come on, I know you carry them for detailed work on your armour."
"Here," Tebes said handing one over as Kazao grinned, of course Tebes carried one, he was the type.
Nathanal took the small rod and moved to the keypad, "There's Motive Force in the circuits, but the Machine Spirit slumbers, we just need a little jolt to wake it up."
Kazao watched him pull the panel away, revealing diodes and wires, "What are you doing?"
"Connect the grounding coil to the inert capacitor thusly, pull out the locking wire... then gently touch the charge node and pray you don't offend the Omnissiah... Aha!"
A clunk, a whirr and suddenly the door unlocked. Kazao stepped back, impressed, as Nathanal handed back the micro-lathe smugly. The doors parted and Kazao made to step within but was brought up short. Beyond a vast arena lay, a huge space in the Serpens Rex, cavernous and echoing. The roof was a hemisphere adorned with hanging banners of antiquity and the walls dotted with arched entrances to shrines and mausoleums. But that wasn't what gave him pause, what astonished him was the entire space was filled with coffins. High-sided slabs made up their bulk, laid in orderly rows and each headed by a life-sized statue.
Marble sculptures rose as far as their stablights could illuminate. Heroic figures in regal pose. Some wore armour, some soft robes. Many grasped weapons, particularly the dappled-steel swords quickly finding favour in the ranks, but others held books and scrolls. These seemed to be addressing the viewer, as if educating the masses. But all of them had swept back hair and sharp cheekbones. The original Amber Vipers, memorialised in marble.
"It's a memorial," Larus breathed.
"More like a mortuary... a mortuary deck," Kazao corrected.
"This must be where the ancient Amber Vipers interred their dead," Tebes guessed.
"I wonder why Maru never mentioned this," Joffel mused.
Nathanal was waving an auspex about, "Air pressure's stable, no leaks detected but no sign of the life-support systems starting. We're going to have to reset every single Machine Spirit to make this breathable."
"Keep your helms on," Tebes warned.
"You don't have to tell me," Kazao grunted.
"Hey!" Joffel called, "Check this one out!"
Kazao saw Joffel looking at a larger than average statue. A Space Marine in Mark IV plate. His face was regal and his eyes fierce. A long braid hung over his pauldron, heavy with gold rings, actual gold, fixed into the statue. Surely a later affectation Kazoa judged, wearing a helm with that mass of hair would be next to impossible. He wasn't so sure though, something about that proud face hinted this warrior would die before forsaking his glory.
"Commander Nottaru," Joffel read from an inscription, "Unbreakable fealty, unbreakable defiance."
"Any idea who he was?" Larus asked.
"Must have been important once," Tebes guessed, "A founder figure?"
"I think answers might be in there," Kazao ventured.
A looming door called to him, leading to one of the mausoleums buried in the walls. It was bigger than any other and ringed by golden inscriptions in High Gothic. It drew the eye, significance writ in every line. Carefully the squad approached, covering the interior with harsh illumination. Kazao's autosenses noted a surprisingly large space, without any statues or coffins.
He stepped to the wide door and peered within, seeing the floor was covered in Adamantium panels, each engraved with a name. The walls were far more interesting. Every inch was painted with a single mural, recording a vast battle scene. In an urban
environment Space Marine fought Space Marine, loyalists against Traitors. Ancient marks of armour were on display, long since defunct in the Imperium. The first kin-strife, the dawning of the inter-legionnaire wars, the Horus Heresy.
"This is old," Larus breathed.
"Not that old, surely," Tebes ventured, "This must be a later memorial."
"I don't know, how old is Serpens Rex anyway?" Joffel gulped.
"Older than we suspected," Kazao muttered.
"Who's that leading them?" Larus asked. At the heart of the fray a warrior with a bare face stood, and from the poses of the rest the loyalists took direction from him. Stern faced, with long tresses but not ridiculously so. He bore a straight sword in both hands while his face was grim and his brow fixed with a rivetted plate. There was an aura of tragedy upon him, one who had seen the worst come to pass, but was unbroken by it. He stood proud in the midst of insanity and refused to yield, the twin-headed eagle on his breast a beacon-light of righteous defiance in an eclipse of evil.
"I think..." Kazao began.
"What are you doing?!" a harsh blare rang across the tombs.
Kazao spun about and saw Maru Kysoto striding into the mortuary deck, his mechanical feet stamping loud in the echoing space. Chattels scattered before his approach, for he was in no mood to avoid crushing them. Psychic power crackled around his frame in a chill aura, and the katana blade he carried glowed with power.
Tebes called out, "Honoured Librarian, we were clearing this area, as ordered."
"Do not lie to me, you were snooping!" Maru barked.
"No, as I said we had orders..."
"Not to interfere in my Brother's rest!"
Kazao felt the ancient's anger like a burning torch, outrage shimmering off him. Even Nathanal shrank back, unwilling to challenge the Librarian-Dreadnought. Maru Kysoto had never been so hostile, so offended. His wroth was terrible to behold.
Larus dared to say, "Coluber wanted these decks opened up."
"This is my house, not his," Maru growled, "I tolerate you to squat on my doorstep, but I will not suffer Ronin's to sully the pride of my fallen comrades."
"We aren't," Kazao argued.
"This is not for you!" Maru snarled, "Get out! All of you and trouble the noble dead no more! Out I say and I will tell Coluber this place is not for your kind!"
Kazao saw there was no arguing with the Librarian-Dreadnought. Maru's will was set and to resist was pointless. He set his feet towards the doors and walked out, leaving the dead in peace. The rest followed suit, Space Marine and chattel alike, under Maru's furious gaze. Nathanal was the last to depart, hobbling out, leaving Maru alone with the bones of his kin. None heard him speak, but to the fallen he vowed, "Rest in peace, noble Brothers. Rest in your deserved glory and know your confidences shall never pass my lips. By Nottaru I swear, your names will be remembered with honour."
