Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 290

Ryneon listened in rigid silence as Coluber droned on. The Master of the Vipers was making a speech welcoming his guests and inviting them to become familiar with each other and share a spirit of comradery. It was obviously a ploy to make them expose their plans, by putting them in an informal setting Coluber plotted to gain advantage, possibly even play them off against each other. A sordid trick and one Ryneon refused to fall for.

The Vipers had cleared an ancient contemplation garden for the envoy's use. Under a dome of starlight the grove dwelt, shaped by long-dead hands into a place suitable for mediation and reflection. Winding paths wove around bushes and sand gardens, decorative bridges crossed running water and statues of the nine loyal Primarchs were dotted around, each presenting a different virtue carved into their base.

Long ago it may have been atheistically beautiful, but the effect was spoiled by thousands of years of exposure to the void of space. Ryneon could see the distinctive marks of solar winds upon rock faces, places where dead plants had been hurriedly replaced and the marks of recent welding upon the dome. A careless chattel had stepped into a sand garden, destroying the harmony of the lines with an ugly boot imprint. Typical, the Vipers had taken someone else's hard work for their own and mishandled it. A perfect representation of the Chapter Ryneon was forced to visit.

Coluber's speech ran out at last. Around him the envoys milled, each different and yet the same. All of them came to this Conclave with their own agendas, their unique histories and ploys. None of them worked for the advancement of the Imperium, all had their own glories in mind. There was Daggon and Verral, the envoys straight from the Crusade. What the Ordo Xenos wanted mystified Ryneon, but the Chaplain seemed fierce. Across from them Auriga and Velpecula stood side by side, barely speaking to each other. Their mistrust was evident, but the Blood Raven's shabby state offended Ryneon, they had fallen short of his expectations. Nearer stood Toran and Castabore, the Storm Herald was Firstborn but proud, his armour perfect and heraldry faultless, there was one who understood the dignity of the Astartes.

"So, shall we mingle?" Posix asked mirthfully.

"I am observing," Ryneon replied.

"Observing what, may I ask?"

"Our rivals," Ryneon explained.

"Tut, tut," Posix chuckled, "There is more to be learned from interaction, watch how it's done."

Posix stepped forward, moving towards the Storm Herald and Cawl's envoy. Ryneon saw them note the approach and how they reacted. The tub-like Archmagos spun to face them, waving Mechandrites in the air. Captain Toran watched impassively, his augmetic eye glowing and his armour purring. He seemed at rest, but Ryneon noted his hand never strayed from the hilt of his sword. It seemed he did not wholly trust the parley, Ryneon didn't either, especially since he was planning to break it later.

"Posix," Castabore called as they approached.

"Castabore," Posix replied, his holo-scales glimmering.

"You two know each other?" Toran asked.

"We just exchanged Noospheric data-logs," Castabore explained, "We learned more about each other in a second than you could gleam in a month of flesh-speak."

Posix cocked his head, "You have been tending the Machine Spirits?"

Castabore sounded icy, "A sacred duty, one any adept should be pleased to perform."

"Some would call that currying favour with our host," Posix sniffed.

"Feeble-minded people, not worthy of high rank."

Posix ignored the jab, "How are the blessed Machines?"

"In dire need of our ministrations," Castabore sighed, "The tanks and planes languish in neglect, they need our touch."

"This won't help you win the STC for Cawl," Posix spat.

"You wouldn't know a thing about the great Belisarius Cawl!" Castabore hissed.

"I know his creations are riddled with flaws, never put through sanctioned field-trials, never commissioned by the Synods. He is as flighty in his attentions as he is incompetent."

"Not as basic as your personality algorithms, I computed every word you were about to say."

Ryneon listened to their bickering with interest, for he was learning much. Castabore had been in contact with the relics of the Howling Griffons, she had touched them with her own hands, well, Mechandrites. That was useful intel, she could be an asset in the future, if not then she was a threat that would need dealing with. Either way Ryneon was getting a feel of the battlefield to come.

Toran noted his gaze, "Captain, I am surprised the Howling Griffons join us."

Ryneon faced him, "The sons of Mancora are heavily committed to the Indomitus Crusade, but we do not neglect our other duties."

"Admirable," Toran agreed, "I saw your Brothers in the field, briefly, they were brave and skilled."

Ryneon accepted the flattery, "I had not heard of your Chapter till I accepted this mission, but recent reports show great efforts have been made to stabilise your corner of the Imperium. I can find no fault with the execution of your duty."

"High praise, from so lauded a chapter as the Howling Griffons," Toran said, "Tell me your opinion of our hosts."

Ryneon kept his face neutral but spoke truth, "Their performance is below acceptable standards, their doctrines unsound, their appearance... undignified."

"They are rough and ready, I'll give you that," Toran sighed, "But they have made great strides towards improving themselves. In time they may become worthy."

"You accept their mediocrity?" Ryneon probed.

"Let us say I am undecided," Toran sighed, "They leave me unsure, and in my life I have rarely been uncertain. I withhold judgement until I am ready."

Ryneon was surprised by the candour, Toran was sitting on the fence, but his wisdom in not speaking rashly was admirable. Perhaps there was a possibility of alliance here, the aid of the Storm Heralds could be vital, when Ryneon needed to make his move. Sadly there was no more time to talk, the two Magos' had descended into furious exchanges of Binaric, and looked ready to start flinging punches.

"I think we need to separate our charges," Ryneon proposed.

"Agreed," Toran concurred, "I don't speak Binaric, but I suspect one of them just said something about the other's mother."

Ryneon put and hand on Posix's shoulder and steered him away. The Magos spat some invective back at his rival but Ryneon ignored it. He had learned much in this exchange and was already seeing possible routes to his goal. But much remained to be learned. Ahead lay three others, Coluber, Daggon and Varrel. This would be interesting.

"So you see, the gas-compression knife is far better off in the hands of the Ordo Xenos," Varrel argued.

"Our Fangs are fine weapons, but we should not be hasty," Coluber averred.

"The Deathwatch needs every edge it can get, it must be ours!"

Ryneon stepped near, "Greetings."

"Captain, welcome," Coluber hailed.

Ryneon schooled his face to stillness, "You commence bartering already?"

"Merely discussing prospects, offers can wait for the actual Conclave."

Ryneon was disgusted by the Viper barely concealed his greed and turned to the Soul Drinker, "I am surprised a Chaplain came on a diplomatic mission."

"It was by the specific request of the Ordo Xenos," Daggon stated.

"Interesting," Coluber muttered as he eyed the mortal.

Ryneon pressed on, "So you would rather be elsewhere?"

"My Chapter is newly-forged, we have much to prove," Daggon sniffed, "We seek to demonstrate we are worthy of the honoured name bestowed upon us. We have little time for diplomacy, hence why a single squad was released for this mission."

"You deem this Conclave a waste of time?"

"I would prefer a swift conclusion, so I can return to my Brothers in battle," Daggon uttered.

Coluber leaned in, "Your Brothers are nearby?"

"Alas no, they serve at the forefront of the Imperium's resistance to Waaagh Snotbagg. They teach the Orks to fear the sound of our bolters. Our orbital assaults are ruthless, our boarding actions doubly so. Cold and Fast, that is the way of the Soul Drinkers."

"Interesting, most interesting," Coluber mused as if uncovering some vast secret.

Ryneon judged there was little else to be gleaned here, Varrel was of no value and with a mere squad Daggon could play no major role in events. Ryneon made excuses and led Posix away. They moved to the far side of the grotto, where the Blood Raven Auriga and the Hereticus hag Velpecula were arguing. Their mutual loathing was evident and Ryneon sensed they were allies in name only.

The conversation was cut short as Ryneon approached, "Hail."

Auriga looked about, "Honoured son of Mancora, may the unwavering sun smile upon our meeting and the eagle cry ring loud at our handclasp."

"You know the old welcomes of Mancora?" Ryneon blinked.

"It is wise to read of one's companions before meeting them," Auriga countered, "Such a stark people, but so firm in friendship, once struck."

Ryneon nodded but said, "For your records, that saying has been considered archaic for several generations. It would not be in common usage today."

Auriga smiled, "I thank you; I shall update our archives as soon as possible."

Velpecula wrinkled her nose, "You harp on about minutiae, while our rivals start their bidding!"

"Verral makes no progress," Ryneon stated, "Coluber will not give away his prizes so cheaply."

"You are sure?"

"Trust me," Ryneon stated, "Coluber drools over material baubles."

Posix interrupted, "Tell me, why do you seek the STC's?"

"The Ordo Hereticus needs to arm its Stormtroopers better," Velpcula stated.

"The Sisters of Battle are not enough?"

"They are fierce and willing to die for their God-Emperor, but their effectiveness could be better," Velpecula sniffed.

Posix sounded eager, "Have you considered how much better they would be with Fang knives and Laser Destroyers?"

Velpecula eyed him, "You do not seek the STC for yourself?"

"I seek to employ them properly. The Forges of Mars can produce weapons by the billion, but someone must deploy them. The Imperial Guard has its merits, but the Ordo Hereticus could put them to superior use."

Velpecula tapped her chin, "Castigator tanks armed with Laser Destroyers, Sororitas squads armed with Fang knives... I can see the advantages."

"Then we should be allies. I support your claim, you support mine and we both benefit."

"But what do you gain, personally?" Velpecula hissed.

"The glory of being the one to return to Mars with two STC's. My elevation in the hierarchy of the Mechanicus will be assured."

Ryneon found their horse-trading demeaning but noted Auriga staring. "Forgive me," the Librarian uttered, "I had planned to speak to you later, but there is something we should discuss."

Ryneon looked him up and down, "I find it doubtful your Chapter Master has anything I wish to hear."

"Alas my Chapter is far away and uncontactable, deep in Imperium Nihilus. But despite that I have recovered an item of great significance to the Howling Griffons, the Banner of Toryros."

That caught Ryneon's attention, "The Banner of Toryros was a sacred relic of Mancora, the personal standard of the great Chapter Master Toryros. It was lost unto the Chapter during the Caradyras Suppression. Its absence has been an open wound in our hearts, a dozen Brothers have sworn Sacred Oaths to find it and return it to its rightful place, but none were ever heard from again. You dare steal from the Howling Griffons, this shall not stand!"

But Auriga lifted an open palm, "Stay your anger. You misunderstand my intent, I plan to give the banner back to you."

"You... you do?" Ryneon blinked, "Without seeking recompense?"

"The friendship of Mancora is reward enough. I know what a relic means to you, I know what your sacred oaths mean. I would not make an enemy of the Howling Griffons."

Ryneon looked surprised, "I misspoke, a rare failing. I offer contrition for my egregious error."

"I understand, my armour is in need of proper ministrations. Alas, our battles have been fierce and my ship's artisans have their hands full keeping us sailing. It was during a harrowing battle we stumbled upon your standard, still clutched in the grip of a long-dead Marine. He did honour to the Howling Griffons and I would be failing to show respect if I delay my promise another minute. A shuttle shall be dispatched immediately, to deliver the Banner back to your Chapter's reliquaries."

Ryneon nodded, "Your honour is faultless, I deem you a proper Space Marine, unlike some others."

Auriga smiled, "It seems like our charges the Blood Ravens and Howling Griffons have common ground to build upon."

"Indeed, we have much to discuss."

Ryneon was pleased, it seemed he had a firm ally in this camp. Two Companies of Space Marines, possibly three if Toran came about, would make for a power to be reckoned with. He had been right to attend this gathering, he left with his strength greatly increased, and the prospect of recovering his Chapter Relics that much nearer. He was pleased with his work this day, and yet it never occurred to him to ask what Auriga gained from this alliance. An oversight he would come to regret.