Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 279

In the privacy of his chamber Coluber worked over piles of parchments with a weary eye. A Chapter Master's work was never done but even he had noticed the burden of his office growing heavier. The Amber Vipers were growing and with every Brother added to the amount of reports and training rotas Coluber had to manage grew exponentially. He'd spent most of the day sorting out issues with Tertius Cohort, and hadn't even started on the piles of Astropathic reports, logistical snarls and strategic analysis of the Sector.

Minutes crawled by glacially as he worked through his backlog. Strange, he'd fought through hellscapes and bloody nightmares, and none of it made his head throb like this. His eyes were starting to boil in their sockets and his tongue grew dry. Eventually Coluber had enough, this could wait, there were more important issues to deal with.

Coluber let the last report fall to his desk as he leaned back and rolled his neck to work out a crick. Eyes closed he let his head clear, feeling both temples throbbing for a while till the sensation passed. Calmed he opened his eyes and examined his chamber. High in the lone tower that dominated the Serpens Rex's heart it was an austere sweep of clean marble, broken only by an ornate sand garden with deftly swept contours. A broad window looked out upon the desolation of the Nest, the shattered towers and broken spars that made up the bulk of the starfort.

Coluber had found the chamber thus, but added his own embellishments. His armour was set upon a stand, in need of polishing, he chided himself. A bookcase was stuffed full of odd tomes he'd accumulated and his desk was set to gaze out the window. A bed he rarely slept in and a low table with a dusty stack of cards. He'd thought to learn Necromundian poker some time ago but never found the time. This then was his private space, where he dreamed of a bright future for the chapter, noble and filled with glory, and lied to himself that it could yet come to pass.

"Humph!" Seyda called from the door where the Brother-Exemplars stood guard.

Coluber glanced over, "Yes?"

"Shall we let them in?" Seyda asked.

"Already? How long have they been waiting?"

Hasak answered, "Two hours."

"Frak! Why didn't you tell me? No, never mind, just let them inside."

The elite warriors didn't comment but opened the door and allowed the waiting guests inside. First came Ferrac, stomping along as if missing his plate. Out of armour his many scars were visible, and that made him seem even fiercer than when clad in Ceramite. Shrios came next, supporting Nathanal, who seemed to be leaning on his muscled arm too much for comfort. Reddam came along, knuckles stained with lapping powders. His presence was not mandatory but Coluber wanted his input, the Sergeant was closer to the squads than most, he could speak for the lower ranks.

Last to enter was a bleak figure, still in armour. Berio, of the Cerberii. He alone kept his plate, for he needed to. Claviger of the Cerberii, He who holds the Keys, and watchman of the Gates of Perdition. To his order fell the solemn duty of standing vigil over the worst items the Amber Vipers had acquired, weapons so vile even Coluber hesitated to use them. His duty had left him rad-scarred and ravaged, augmetics spreading through his body. His frame was bulkier than it should be, and he bore a Rotundus-grav-cannon on a gimbal mount over his shoulder. His face was bleached pale, threaded with black veins and pockmarks, to look upon him was to understand why the Cerberii were considered a punishment detail.

Ferrac, Shrios, Reddam and Nathanal took seats before the desk, the mortal having to be helped into the boosted chair like a child. Berio was no longer capable of sitting daintily so stood, his face grim and judgemental. Coluber ignored him, Berio's issues were his own to deal with.

"Thank you for waiting," Coluber began diplomatically.

"If you want to thank us, don't keep me standing for hours!" Nathanal snapped.

"Getting feisty in your dotage?" Ferrac snorted.

"I'm too old to be standing for long," Nathanal grunted, "You may live centuries, I don't."

"Maybe it's time you retire, and let your apprentices take over," Reddam ventured.

"Would that I could," Nathanal sighed, "None of them are true Techmarines. They've learned a lot but there's not one who can call himself a master. Kerubim was the best of them, but we've heard nothing from him since he took off, years ago."

Coluber changed the subject, "Reddam, what's the mood among the ranks?"

"Confused, they know something is going on, but not what. They've worked hard though, we've doubled the amount of living space in the Nest, we should have room to spare. But Maru caused a scene, kicked us out of a section and declared it off-limits, no idea why."

"Leave him to his mysteries," Coluber sighed, "At least he's not messing around with Tertius for a span."

"Problems?" Shrios asked.

"Endless. Our latest recruiting cycle was the biggest one yet, Tertius is a sprawling mess. There's not enough veteran personnel to manage them all, we're having to get older recruits to train the younger ones. A situation not helped by two senior figures, who keep messing with the training regimes."

Ferrac sniffed, "Not my fault Maru keeps screwing about, I just fix what he breaks."

"And confuse the hell out of the Snakelets," Coluber snapped, "They don't know whether they are supposed to be training with swords or bolters!"

"Then tell Maru to bugger off and leave me to it," Ferrac grunted.

Reddam leaned in, "Have you considered appointing someone to take Tertius in hand? One senior Brother to take charge of the training cycles?"

"A master of recruits?" Coluber mused thoughtfully.

"Drill-Captain or something like that," Reddam shrugged, "You need to delegate some of your work, you're trying to do too much yourself. We've grown too big for one person to manage everything."

Coluber leaned back, "Therein lies the root of our problems. For the first time since Gobannus our numbers threaten to break our supply-capabilities. I've started sending out sizeable scavenging parties to expand our acquisitions, but even the Crusader Hosts can't sustain us. Four hundred Brothers, more than I could have dreamed at the start, more than we can arm, more than we can organise. I never dreamed I would be complaining that we number too many, but here we are."

"So, you intend to press ahead with your plan?" Ferrac asked.

"We have to," Coluber sighed, "Our pact with the Navigators brings us much, not least of which is Astropaths, but they can't supply us entirely. We need more logistical support."

"I still say it's a bad idea," Ferrac protested, "Inviting Tech-Priests and Inquisitors to our home. I say we keep on as we are, plenty of governors out there will offer anything for our aid."

Nathanal broke in, "We have a base we can barely quarter-maintain, a Battlebarge that can't shoot and tanks gathering dust that I cannot consecrate. It's not a question of numbers but knowledge. We need special skills, rare parts and elements. The hard fact is that we've run up against the limits of what we can do ourselves. We need a pact with a true Forgeworld for resupply."

"But to invite the Inquisition," Ferrac growled.

"We are an official Chapter," Coluber explained, "Time we accepted it. The sanction of an Inquisitorial Ordo will open many doors for us. Plus Maru needs an apprentice, our efforts to recruit a Psyker have been disastrous. Access to the Adeptus Astra Telepathica will let us start a true Librarius."

Berio broke his silence, "Outsiders may come but none shall pass the Gates of Perdition."

Coluber nodded, "Exactly what I was going to say. Berio, your order's charges must remain sealed, from all eyes. The relics of the Hegemony, the tainted weapons, Cawl's mad inventions stashed within, none can know they exist. I also need you to go around the squads and gather up any Xenos artefacts, temporarily. If the Inquisition sees us using Tau guns and Eldar agonisers it will go poorly. We must appear pure in doctrine, that means only bolters for the squads."

"They won't like that," Ferrac grunted.

"They can live with it," Coluber snorted.

"I foresee another problem," Shrios interjected, "Our gene-seed tithe is... well, non-existent."

"So?" Ferrac dismissed.

"The High Lords require all Chapters to submit tithes to the Martian gene-vaults, for purity checks and future expansion. We have been dodging demands for donations, our excess stock is why we grow so fast, but the envoys will not take no for answer."

"Tell them to Frak off," Ferrac scoffed.

"Shrios is right," Coluber stated, "Few obligations are enforceable on a Chapter, but the gene-tithe is considered mandatory. We will have to concede that point, a blow, but then one should always approach a negotiation with a few things one can trade-off."

"So, what exactly are we bartering away?" Reddam asked.

"STC's," Coluber explained.

"Standard Template Constructs are holy to the Mechanicus," Nathanal mused, "They would pay any price to acquire a single page of one, any price. To obtain a complete example is the dream of every Tech-Priest."

"So that's why they are willing to overlook our 'eccentricities' and treat with us?" Reddam guessed.

"They'd wade through an Ork midden to dig one up," Nathanal stated.

"We recovered three STC's from Athelling," Coluber explained, "The shuttle we gave to our Navigator allies, and the fruits of that pact propelled them back to riches and glory. That leaves two to work with. Our template for the Fang-knife is of great interest to the Inquisition, the Ordos Xenos and Hereticus send envoys to claim exclusive rights for their chamber militants. The STC for the laser destroyer is claimed by various Tech-Priests, most bitterly. An envoy from Mars is coming, and another for the new 'Cawlist' factions. They both claim divine rights to its exclusive use."

Berio frowned, "Why not give both sides copies? It's data, they can all use it."

"You don't know how Imperial institutions act," Coluber sighed, "Sharing is not a word they understand. Whoever gets the rights will keep it for themselves. That's why the Soroitas are the only ones to use the Immolator STC, instead of everyone having them."

Reddam pressed, "So that's the envoys, what of their escorts? You said Space Marine Chapters are coming."

Coluber nodded, "Indeed, the Ordo Xenos has secured a bodyguard from the Indomitus Crusade, Primaris I presume. The Ordo Hereticus envoy has an escort of the Blood Ravens."

"Blood Ravens, light-fingered bastards," Shrios muttered, "Bolt down everything you don't want stolen."

Coluber continued, "The Martian envoy has an escort from the Howling Griffons, but the Cawlist faction is being escorted by the Storm Heralds."

"Storm Heralds?!" Ferrac yelped, "We haven't seen them since the start."

"My old masters," Nathanal sniffed nostalgically, "I wonder how they fare?"

"I wonder if Persion is still alive?" Ferrac mused, "We saved each other's lives."

It was a warming thought but Reddam leaned in, "The Storm Heralds knew us during the Time of Exodus, they know... things... about us we don't want in the open. What if they expose our secrets in the debates to come?"

"A risk, but it must be borne," Coluber sighed, "We need to maximise our return on this conclave. That means letting opposing sides in."

"You mean to set up a bidding war for the STCs?" Shrios guessed.

Coluber agreed, "You make it sound sordid, but basically yes. We cannot continue like this, grubbing for scraps, making petty deals with venal Governors. The lower ranks think it is how things should be, they think it's normal, but we know better. The Amber Vipers should be proud, we should stand equal to any Chapter, a glorious Brotherhood, pure and selfless. If we can improve our supply-lines then we can concentrate on acting like real Space Marines, not mercenary thugs."

"I wonder if we can entice the envoys to look at our tanks?" Nathanal mused, "We have a Mastodon, a Predator and an Omega Sicarian crying for consecration."

"My thoughts exactly," Coluber agreed, "The Cawlist envoy sent word they will bless our machines with their knowledge."

"Really?!" Reddam started.

"I claim these tanks for Primus!" Ferrac yelled over him.

"Now hold on," Reddam retorted, "Secundus is our fast-attack division, we should have them."

"A funny jest," Ferrac snorted, "Secundus is a recruiting pool for our real force, nothing more."

"Secundus is not your personal crop-field," Reddam snapped.

"Tertius trains, Primus fights... Secundus, runs about flapping their arms."

"We can fight," Reddam growled, "Make no mistake about that."

"I've seen your louts in the fighting arena, I am not impressed," Ferrac laughed.

"Maybe I should call you out someday," Reddam growled.

"Maybe you should... Sergeant."

"I am getting sick and tired of you pulling rank!" Reddam hissed.

"Then do something about it," Ferrac snarled.

"That's enough!" Coluber barked, "This is what I am talking about. Insolence, brawling, squabbling like children. You two disappoint me deeply. The Amber Vipers should be better than this. We dream of nobility, that starts at the top. You two should go see to your Brothers. Get them standing straight and polishing their armour till it gleams, the Chapters coming will not be impressed by our slovenly manners. Oh, and make sure the Aberrants are well hidden, there's no way that will be accepted, by anyone. Get to it!"

Reddam and Ferrac glared at each other but stiffly rose and departed. The rest watched them go, then Shrios said, "You should be gentler with them, Reddam is a leal soul and Ferrac would charge the legions of Abaddon for your sake."

Berio snorted, "Ferrac would charge the Legions of Abaddon for fun."

Coluber ignored that, "We can no longer overlook our shortcomings, we cannot hide from the truth of what we are. Materially we lag behind any other Chapter, even with our shortcuts and tech-heresies, but our callow spirit is more harrowing. We lack pride and dignity; we are unworthy of the trust the Emperor invested in his Space Marines. The fighting spirit of the Astartes is more than a willingness to brawl, the Amber Vipers need to create an esprit de corps and embrace the yearning for excellence that defines a Space Marine. The example of real heroes walking among us will inspire our younger brethren to greatness."

"Primaris, Storm Heralds, Howling Griffons, Blood Ravens, all in one conclave... this could go badly wrong," Shiros argued, "It's a big risk."

"Nothing worthwhile comes without risk," Coluber sighed, "But the alternative is to accept we will remain unworthy forever. I cannot allow that. For better or worse the Amber Vipers must take the next step into the Imperial fold, with all that entails. We can only trust the Emperor looks upon our efforts with favour."