Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 358

Across the surface of the station two breeds fought, one flesh and blood, the other piston and gears. The dark of space was lit by flashing weapons and crackling disruption fields, eerily silent without oxygen to convey noise. The quiet did nothing to dampen the fury of the fight though, both sides battling with all their ardour. Blood Talon and Amber Viper, fighting construct-robots that kept emerging from the station's hatches.

Aronyx slammed his boots down firmly with every tread. Mag-locks in the soles of his feet kept him steady, but the slightest misstep could see him fly away, there was no time to stop and secure safety ropes. The result was that the Space Marines moved slowly, every motion overexaggerated, as if they were wading along an ocean's bottom. His breathing was loud and the roar of his backpack generator filled his ears, no other sounds were evident, not the bang of bolter nor the whine of pistons shifting.

All around his comrades gave battle to advancing constructs. Lumbering machines stomping after the retreating humans. Aronyx was loathe to admit it but Ferrac's insane move had hidden an invidious cunning. Assault cannons and rotor guns could not fire in vacuum, requiring oxygen to ignite propellant. Bolters were not so encumbered, self-propelled on rocket exhaust they operated as flawlessly in space as they did in atmosphere. The result was torrents of bolt rounds hammering advancing constructs, denting their plates, breaking joints and shattering eye lenses. The Techno-Singularities' troops were taking losses, but they were many and they kept closing.

Aronyx saw one of the Host being bored through by a meltagun shot from a Vorax, the accursed fusion beam working in vacuum. The robot was punished for this hubris by Rovenator, the Centurio's lightning claws punching into the metal carapace to shred its guts. He heaved outwards and the machine came apart, reduced to a cloud of debris that slowly drifted away.

Elsewhere Ferrac duelled a three-legged construct with underslung las-talons. His Axe-rake was next to useless as a chainweapon, void combat slowing the arm and cushioning against slashing blows. Crushing, piercing and shooting worked better in space, but then Ferrac was no novice to void combat. The Battle-Captain reversed his weapon and drove the sharpened point on the back into a glassic eye lens. The Construct faltered as it tried to adjust, but Ferrac's other arm caught the back of it and pulled hard. He squeezed his arms together and forced the tip of his weapon deep, shattering the delicate cortex within.

Kerubim seemed to be doing best. The strangely armoured Techmarine bore his rifle in silver arms, letting off blasts of golden rays. Aronyx had never seen the like but where the rays struck whole chunks of metal disappeared, reduced to faint afterimages that swiftly faded into nothing. A crawling machine with a dozen spider-legs had its front disintegrated, allowing the frozen void within to flash-freeze the neural tissue inside to uselessness.

Aronyx had his own fights to deal with. The Lance of Ascalon had reaped several constructs already and he put it to use striking the meltagun off a Vorax. Silently the machine reared, trying to shoot with its rotor guns but was unable to fire. One of the Host tried to seize the moment, his shotgun was equally useless but his knife was sharp. Muted as he was his bravery was admirable, causing him to drive the knife into an eye. The Vorax was wounded but not dead, its foot rose, bringing sharpened claws to bear. One slash along a leg and the vac-suit ripped, spewing gases into the void. The man died clawing at his throat, the last of the Host, only Astartes remained now.

Aronyx's anger brewed higher and saw him level the Lance of Ascalon and drive the point into the Vorax. Straight through and out the other side, ending the robot in one blow. Vague impressions rose in his mind, but the construct had no life to speak of, its ending made scant impression. Aronyx drew back his weapon with disgust, unworthy kills bringing no glory.

The vox crackled as Rovenator snapped, "Where are they all coming from?!"

Kerubim replied, "There could be thousands of Constructs inside, not all of these are typical battle-units, they're sending everything at us!"

Ferrac growled, "We have to find this Necrosphere and smash it!"

The plan sounded good to Aronyx but Kerubim snapped, "The Necrosphere is Binaric, you'd have to break every Logic Engine in the station to end it!"

"Then that is what we shall do," Aronyx intoned.

"Forget it," Ferrac growled, "Your toothpick isn't going to make a dent."

"Then what do you suggest?!" Aronyx snarled.

The reply was lost as a new shape loomed against the stars, no two. The Domitars, they had broken free of the wreckage of the dome and come after the Space Marines. Aronyx thought they'd lost them when they made it outside, and the raging combat that saw them head down the long spine of the station. They were nearly to the spokes that radiated out like a wheel, but the largest Constructs of all had caught up. There was no way to avoid them.

The one to the right levelled a bulky bombard and plasma fire built within. Past Regnators screamed a warning but Aronyx moved like treacle through the vacuum and could not escape. The plasma blast was a crackling orb of destructive might, able to obliterate any threat, but the Regnator was not the target. An Amber Viper took the shot dead-on and was instantly vaporised, life snuffed out in an instant.

Kerubim fired off a golden ray, but the beam merely disintegrated an armoured plate on its surface, while the other levelled its weapon. A second shot erupted, but this time the aim was off. It struck the hull of the station and blew the plates apart. Ferrac was nearby and the ruptured metal broke his mag-lock, sending him drifting away. He kicked and flailed but could not stop himself from flying from the station's hull, momentum carrying him into infinity.

Aronyx gripped his weapon tight as lighting wreathed the fists of the first Domitar and it turned to pursue. He stomped backwards, cursing his slowness as the machine lumbered after, claws reaching for him. The Blood were engaged with lesser constructs, there would be no aid from that direction.

The vox crackled as Archmagos Nystat intruded into their frequency, "Resistance is pointless, the probabilities of survival are lower than you can comprehend."

"Death comes to all, what matters is how we face it," Aronyx snarled.

"Futile bravado, we would not make such reckless errors."

"That is why no one will remember your name!" Aronyx spat.

The Domitar reached for him with fists flaring but Aronyx did not wait for it to hit. Unable to dodge he instead stomped forward, driving his Lance into an elbow joint. Sparks flared from the hit and the Domitar shuddered, but it was not broken. An arm the size of a girder slammed into Aronyx's head, making him stumble. The spirit of his armour wailed as life support fluttered, before righting. The Domitar closed its arms like a vice, he was too close to hit but it could still try to crush him. Aronyx dropped low, ducking under the arms and seeing a gap between the legs. Hardly dignified but he took it anyway, darting under the robot and out the other side.

He staggered a few steps, then turned. The Domitar was lumbering about, lowering the plasma bombard to end him. Aronyx knew one shot from that weapon would obliterate him, but he was not afraid, for opportunity beckoned. Aronyx bowed low, bracing himself, and then as the Construct drew a bead he deactivated his mag-locks and flew away.

Straight past the Domitar, missing the gun by inches. Over its shoulder and away, sailing free and clear in the zero G. A second of gut-churning horror at the prospect of being lost in space, then a wall came to greet him. It was one of the station's radial spokes, standing at ninety degrees to the central hub and he hit it hard. The smooth surface slammed into his helm and he nearly spun off. His free hand skittered over the plates for an instant, unable to find a grip, but then he caught a rivet and gripped tight, swinging his legs about.

Aronyx planted his feet, then shoved off, hurling himself back the way he came. He gripped his Lance in both hands, thrusting upwards just as he crashed into the Domitar. The construct had barely begun to turn and his weapon crashed into its shoulder, tearing deep. He held on tight, refusing to be knocked loose as his boots sought a mag-lock. They caught the Robot's back, just enough grip to wrench his weapon loose, then stomp backwards, setting foot on the station's hull once more.

"Pointless, utterly pointless," Nystat sneered as the robot shook off the blow.

"The words of a ghost in the machine," Aronyx retorted.

"I am no ghost!"

"You are, you just don't know it."

The plasma bombard glowed evilly, about to obliterate him but then it overloaded. Flaring energy coils had been ruptured by his expertly placed blow, allowing deadly plasma to leak free. One instant the Domitar was intact, the next it was enveloped in a blaze of plasma, vaporised utterly, and leaving a crater in the hull of the station.

Aronyx's autosenses blinked out for an instant and when they returned he was alone. He stomped about, looking to intervene elsewhere, but saw Kerubim duelling the other one. The Techmarine had drawn a pure energy blade, and was carving deep furrows into its arms. Every blow met by the fizzing-plasma sabre and he held his ground with admirable courage.

The Domitar loomed high, seeking to crush him utterly, only to be surprised when Ferrac came flying from nowhere and tackled it from behind. His jump pack fumed with ice-crystals, he could not ignite it in the void, but expelling propellent from the thrusters had allowed him to manoeuvre. He timed it to perfection, throwing off the blow before it started. Seeing his chance Kerubim drove his plasma-sabre into the machine's hearts, ending its rampage utterly.

"I thought you were doomed," Aronyx voxed.

"Takes more than being lost in space to end me," Ferrac snorted as he climbed down.

"Pat yourself on the back after we live through this!" Kerubim yelled.

From all around more constructs advanced, none as mighty as a Domitar but growing in number. The Space Marines were encircled, running low on ammo and with no place to run to. Aronyx slammed shoulder to shoulder with Rovenator and the Centurio hissed, "Is this a beautiful death?"

"Only if we face it with courage," Aronyx stated.

The vox crackled as Archmagos Dolder spoke, "You fought above expectations, but it is over. Surrender to us and become vessels to the Techno-Singularity."

Nystat added, "The cost/benefit calculations are irrefutable, you must see this."

"I see that ending you would be the greatest of achievements," Aronyx spat.

"Then you shall die."

"I shall die well," Aronyx declared.

But Ferrac spat, "Quit yapping about death and start thinking about winning!"

Aronyx was confused by his meaning but then bulky forms loomed into view. Squat box-shapes, flanked by guns and missiles. Rising upon bursts of manoeuvring thrust, gunships, a red Stormraven and an amber Thunderhawk, sights he never expected to see again. Barley had the craft loomed into view when Heavy bolters erupted, silently flashing mass-reactives into the encircling machines. Constructs came apart, broken by torrents of rounds as missiles flew into the rear ranks, blasting them to scraps.

Ramps yawned open and the Space Marines broke mag-locks to fly the distance. Aronyx aimed for his Stormraven and caught the edge of the ramp with his free hand. He pulled himself into the bay and then mag-locked to the deck, seeing his brothers join him. Two short, two more of the Blood lost, and he hadn't seen them fall. He could only trust they had died valiantly.

The army of constructs was shattered but over the vox Nystat wailed, "You've ruined everything!"

"It's what we do," Ferrac snorted.

Aronyx declared, "We shall fight our way into the heart of this place and rip out your circuits one by one."

But Kerubim refuted, "No need, lance strike incoming in thirty seconds."

"You called in a lance strike?!" Rovenator gasped.

"You didn't think I'd take this place part with my axe-rake, did you?" Ferrac scoffed.

"No, you can't!" Dolder cried into the Vox.

"You two-byte processors have no idea what you've done!" Nystat wailed, "The Necrosphere was mankind's greatest gift!"

It was too late, the gunships were already thrusting away, closing their ramps as the distance increased. Twenty-thousand kilometres distant the Serpens Rex's lance arrays lit up, hurling ship-killing power into the void. At lightspeed the las-beams struck, carving into the space station's frame with inexorable wroth. Through the hull they sliced, dicing internal structures and opening compartments to space. Again and again they struck, dissecting the station with ruthless efficiency. Plasma generators ruptured, cogitators shattered and the ghosts of all within vanished from existence, never to be heard from again.

Aronyx watched till the ramp slammed shut, leaving the station to its demise. A terrible threat had been eliminated and past Regantors approved its destruction, but he was not comforted. His new allies had shown chilling ruthlessness and a clinical disdain for the foe that was unnerving. They had not raged and frothed in battle, neither had they embraced the glory of the kill by their own hand. They'd sought the most efficient way to kill the enemy and enacted it, caring not how the foe died, only that they did. As they departed Aronyx was left wondering what sort of monsters he'd aligned himself with.