Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 286

"So, are we killing them or not?" Persion asked.

Toran rubbed his jaw thoughtful, "I haven't made my mind up."

"Well you better hurry," Persion sniped, "The other envoys can't be far away, we need to make a decision before they arrive."

Toran clenched his jaw in frustration, for he could not say either way. After a day and a night touring the Serpens Rex he had retired to his barracks, where Third Company stood ready. He'd sent Sergeant Zeax's Devastators to watch over Castabore as she fussed over the Machine Spirits, but the rest of the Third was awaiting his orders, the trouble was he had none to give.

To distract himself he looked about the billet. A sparse set of chambers, lacking the furnishings that marked Imperial style. Arming servitors had been provided and tools for tending to weapons, but apart from that there wasn't much to see. No devotional shrines, no votive candles or leering gargoyles, not even a respectable skull hanging over the doorway. The lack grated on Toran's nerves, and he could tell his Marines felt discomforted.

Persion was sitting on a crate, skimming vox-channels via his comms- gear. The specialist had a long history of disrespecting vox-protocols, but that quirk had saved Toran's hide often enough that he did not comment. Persion tapped on the runes built into his vambrace with one hand, as the other held a half-drunk tin of beer. Toran had never seen him drink such a thing and suspected he'd scrounged it off someone.

"Where did you get that?" Toran asked.

"Found a crate laying in a corner, guess the Amber Vipers missed a stack. Not like we can get drunk anyway."

Novak's bulk turned on his gimballed waist, "What's it taste like?"

"Felonid piss," Persion retorted as he slugged back another draught, "Nothing like the victory wines the Storm Heralds stockpile."

"Wish I could try some."

"You're not missing anything," Persion scoffed.

"Say that when you've had neither drink nor meat for twenty years, I'd even welcome a bowl of Synthi-gruel."

From the corner of the room where they deliberated Smyth sniffed, "You two sound like you should be clad in amber."

"You may be a leal comrade Smyth, but don't think I won't beat you down if you insult me again," Persion retorted.

"I thought you liked these Amber Vipers," Smyth muttered.

"I like Ferrac, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to wave off the Heresies of his Chapter."

Toran turned to face the banner bearer and interrogated, "You think we should condemn the Amber Vipers?"

Smyth nodded, "Their tech-Heresies alone justify having this base demolished. Their doctrines do not conform to the Codex Imperialis and I have seen flagrant proof they utilise Xenos weaponry."

Novak retorted, "I haven't seen anything, and I can see spectrums you can't imagine."

"Because you aren't looking, examine the scorch marks along the rear shooting gallery. Those blast patterns aren't caused by bolters; they aren't from any Imperial weapon."

Toran sighed, "That the Amber Vipers stray from the straight and narrow is inarguable, but does that make them Traitors? I have seen their hearts, and the bold vision that inspires them and it is worthy. I have seen that they want to act with honour, but must walk a stonier path. I am convinced they do their duty to the Emperor, but the way they do it leaves me cold."

"You..." Smyth started but then bit his tongue.

Toran lifted an eyebrow, "Brother, I encourage my Marines to speak their minds. If you have a point to make, say it."

Smyth looked reluctant but said, "Captain, you have met Coluber before, you all have. You knew these vagabonds at their weakest and sympathise with their plight. That is a weakness. Sympathy leads to understanding, understanding leads to compassion, compassion leads to Heresy."

Persion snorted, "Don't hold back Smyth!"

But Smyth argued, "They are hiding things from us, sins buried in the dark places of this base. They are showing you their best face, and you do not pry further. Tell me you would not be asking more questions of a Chapter you did not know personally."

Toran sighed, "Our forthright Brother is right. We are treating the Amber Vipers with moral relativism. Excusing their actions and waving off darker aspects. The Imperium was not built upon understanding and tolerance, but the absolute moral authority of the Emperor's Decrees. There is the Lex Imperialis or there is Heresy, obedience to the Golden Throne or treachery. Light and dark, there is no grey to be found in this galaxy. But what side of the line do the Amber Vipers lie, to that I still lack an answer. Destroying a Space Marine Chapter is not to be done on a whim, I must be certain of my judgement before acting."

"And if they prove to be Heretics?" Smyth pressed.

"I will obey the will of the Golden Throne," Toran stated.

"Can you really do that to a friend?" Novak asked.

"We have seen a beloved Brother turn Traitor before. I did not hesitate to dispense justice then, I will not flinch now."

A sudden alert carried through the billet, causing squads to snap weapons into fighting poses. Toran was already striding for the entrance, one hand on the hilt of his sword. An alarm could mean anything, but an expectation of danger was ingrained into a Space Marine's soul, and he'd seen enough reversals in his life to reach for a weapon first and ask questions later.

He closed on the doorway, and found it guarded by Sergeant Gotram's Reivers. The Primaris warriors were fierce and vicious, legendarily insolent and free with interpretation of orders. Even those not familiar with them would have been set back by their serrated knives and grinning half-masks, but their visitor was not. Battle-Captain Ferrac was stood in the doorway, holding a Reiver up against the jamb by the throat. His axe-rake burred vicious, ready to disembowel the warrior, despite the half-dozen pistols pointed at his back.

"Touch me again and I'll forget you are under parley," Ferrac growled around the edges of the iron riveted to his face.

"Captain, are you manhandling my Marines?" Toran rebuked as he closed.

"Just teaching them some respect."

"My Marines' conduct is mine to correct," Toran uttered, "Let him go."

Ferrac glared for a moment then let go. The Reiver seemed furious but Ferrac turned his back and said, "I need you to come with me."

"We have talked already," Toran uttered.

"Talk is cheap," Ferrac affirmed, "There's something you need to see."

Toran wasn't convinced but Ferrac spun on his heel and departed. Toran waved his advisors to follow, not trusting this wasn't some trick. They swiftly strode out of the billet, marching through the bowels of the Serpens Rex. Toran instantly noted they weren't heading back to the hub, instead moving towards the rim. These sections of the base were even less well-maintained than the areas he had seen previously and the thought occurred this was probably what the majority of the Serpens Rex looked like.

"Where are we going?" Toran asked.

"To witness the heart of the Amber Vipers," Ferrac replied.

"I've seen your tower."

"Not that," Ferrac snorted, "That's Coluber's dream, his idea of what we could be. It is not the truth of us, perhaps someday, but the beating heart of the Amber Vipers lie this way."

"Are you saying Coluber misled us?" Smyth interjected as the banner waved in his hand.

"No," Ferrac sighed, "He spoke the truth as he sees it, but Coluber walks with his face to the sun, and can be blinded by it at times. The rest of us keep our eyes on the ground, seeing what is, not what he wants to see."

"Some would say you seek to undermine your master," Smyth accused.

"Never doubt my fealty to Coluber," Ferrac growled, "He does not seek deceive you, but he is showing you our best face. I sensed you weren't convinced, there was doubt in your eye even after all he showed you. You think we are hiding something, and you're right. We have another face you must see, if you are to know who we are."

"Warts and all?" Persion asked.

"Ha, I like that," Ferrac chuckled, "Yes, Coluber showed you the artist's rendition, as a dowager hides behind her jewels and make-up, time for you to see what we look like when we roll out of bed."

Toran was bemused and followed Ferrac silently. Their path took them through a pitted metal door and he entered a space filled with raucous cheering. Amber Vipers stood in a loose crowd, laughing and slugging back beers. Their armour was absent, leaving them in shrifts that exposed their Transhuman biceps and implant sockets. They were in a loose ring around an elevated stage, where two warriors dulled with inert weapons. One with a powered-down trident, the other fighting bare-handed. The Amber Vipers were cheering one or the other, making bets or jeering as their chosen warrior took a hit.

"What is this rude display?!" Smyth snorted with derision.

"Good isn't it," Ferrac chuckled, "The fighting arena, where we test ourselves in contests of strength and skill."

"You brawl for glory?" Persion asked doubtfully.

"We prove ourselves before our Brothers, testing the courage and strength of our comrades. Every punch is a link forged between us, every bruise a mark of comradeship. All are open to being challenged, and all accept the risks that come with it. Here we prove that we are worthy of being called Amber Vipers."

"Brotherhood!" Toran exclaimed, "This is a crucible in which you forge your Chapter's fighting spirit, making a single unity from a thousand shards."

"You do understand," Ferrac grinned, "We may not have much, no glory, no laurels, no support but we have each other. By the Throne that's all we have. This place is our heart and soul, rough as Ferrocrete and ugly as toadstone, but unbreakable as granite."

Smyth sniffed, "I don't like this."

"Speak for yourself," Novak snorted, "I want a go, let's get Maru up here and see who's the tougher Dreadnought."

"We are not doing that," Toran hastily rebuked.

A bellowing cheer erupted as the contest came to a close. The unarmed Viper made a whirlwind scissor motion with his arms, twisting and contorting in blur of motion, then the trident wielder went flying. He fell from the podium and hit the ground with a thump, much to the amusement of the crowd. Bolt clips and devotional tokens exchanged hands, much to Smyth's consternation, but Toran saw no bitterness in the losers. They took it as a fair win and a good match.

"What was that thing with he was doing with his arms?" Persion asked.

"Kempo," Ferrac sniffed, "Maru's teaching the squads old katas of fighting. Dumb mistake in my opinion, a warrior should be able to fight with whatever comes to hand."

"Care to demonstrate?" Persion quipped.

Ferrac grinned, "Sergeant Ceces! I challenge you!"

An awed hush fell as all eyes turned to see the guests standing at the perimeter. Whispers sprang up, and Toran assumed Ferrac's duels were rare indeed. A pair of arming servitors lumbered out of the corner and began stripping Ferrac's armour, lifting his customary jump pack away and removing plates one by one. It took some time but at last Ferrac stood naked, grabbing a shrift to shrug over his shoulders before picking up his axe-rake.

Novak sounded concerned, "You'll flay him alive with that."

"Coda of the arena says no powered weapons," Ferrac grunted, "But blunt force trauma is fine."

"Any other rules?" Persion asked.

"First to hit the ground loses. No deathblows and one bout only per brother, we don't want squads ganging up on someone. Other than that, anything goes."

Ferrac turned and leapt onto the stage, standing head and shoulders over the crowd. His foe climbed onto the platform, stretching his arms in a ritual fashion. Toran could see a sinuous grace to the motions, a flow that came with lengthy practice, ingrained muscle memory evident in every twitch. Ceces looked young, but Toran's warriors' eye judged he was very skilled. The teachings of Maru had found fertile soil in this one.

Ferrac cricked his neck and said, "Our guest wishes to see Kempo in action, so try not to lose too quickly."

"They shall witness only your defeat," Ceces retorted with relish as he adopted a wide stance and made his hands into claw shapes.

Persion muttered, "Smyth, I bet you an aquila token Ferrac wins."

"You're on," the Primaris retorted.

The crowd's volume increased as Ceces made a display of prowess. His arms blurred as they made a whirlwind about his torso, spinning with velocity even Toran found hard to track. Ceces came to an abrupt halt and sneered, "Maru has shown me true focus is the path to victory."

Ferrac shifted his axe-rake on his shoulder, "You see this weapon? See the scrapes upon it, every scratch marks a Traitor's life ended. Look closer..."

Ceces' eyes drifted a degree and then Ferrac struck. His foot flashed upwards and caught Ceces right between the legs, with a sound of hardened bone meeting soft parts that made Toran winced. Ceces' eyes widened as his guard dropped, then Ferrac's forehead slammed into his face with the crunch of a broken nose. Ceces folded only to find Ferrac hand upon the back of his neck. The Battle-Captain heaved and Ceces was thrown bodily from the stage, falling among the crowd.

Bellows of laughter and cheering arose as all hailed Ferac's victory, even those who had bet against him. Even Ceces picked himself up with a grin, unashamed to be beaten by the fiercest of all Amber Vipers. Toran was struck by how united the Amber Vipers were in their praise, none holding any bitterness or resentment. Many called Ferrac's name but he proclaimed, "Let that be a lesson to you all, you can fight or you can muck about!"

Smyth didn't sound impressed, "A barbaric display."

"You're just sore because you lost the bet," Persion chuckled, "Hand it over."

"Here," Smyth muttered, "Betting is a fool's errand anyway."

"If you want to win it back, you could challenge me," the towering war machine that was Novak offered.

Toran ignored the jibes as he saw Ferrac jump down and stroll over to them, "An interesting display."

"An object lesson," Ferrac replied, "Cold hearts, fast blades, and unbreakable in our loyalty to each other. That is who the Amber Vipers are."

Toran nodded shallowly, "I thank you for your candour cousin, you have given me much to think about."