Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 368
The River of the Dead, Imperium Nihilus
Between the stars flowed a current mighty and swift. Coursing waters wending a meandering path through space, its trail as winding as a snake's tracks. From nowhere it sprang, and to nowhere it streamed, just one more impossibility in an age of dark miracles. Its existence defied the bounds of sanity, it nature paradoxical. Such narrow perceptions made no impact on the River of the Dead. It did not have to make sense, it merely was.
Serpens Rex bobbed along that current, riding the waters like a coracle drifting downstream. The massive Starfort was reduced to driftsam, a piece of detritus caught in the wake and drag along with no ability to steer or correct course. Waters lapped at the edges of the docks, liquid bathed the underside, wetting surfaces built only for the caress of starlight. The whole structure swayed sickeningly and spars groaned, making Chattels cling to each other in desperate terror. No man could believe such a feat was possible, and many missed the soul-sucking drain of the Ghostwind.
In his offices Coluber gazed out the window, trying to process what he was seeing. In all his centuries he would never have believed such a thing could come to pass. His spirit was left flummoxed, disbelief straining the iron shackles of his Hypno-indoctrination. Give him an enemy to fight, a horde of them, and he would be in his element, but this was strangeness unbound. The minds of men were not made for such phantasmagoria.
"This is insane," Reddam commented from behind.
"You don't have to tell me," Ferrac grumbled, "I hate this."
"I hate everything about Imperium Nihilus," Reddam muttered, "Time is broken, we say in Imperium Sanctus, but on this side of the Rift reality is broken."
Coluber turned about and saw his officers fretting. The Captains Ferrac and Reddam, along with Maru and Kerubim. The Techmarine was fiddling with a handheld pict-screen relay, trying to process the incoming Auspex data. Coluber was tempted to tell him to give it up, nothing would make sense this day, but Kerubim persisted. How strange, to think he would stand in Nathanal's place, the mortal artisan taken from them forever. Coluber's decisions had led to that outcome, now he must live with the consequences.
Kerubim wacked the side of his pict in the ritual fashion, "This makes no sense! The water is liquid, in space no less! It should be frozen solid, it should diffuse into gas clouds, not maintain a fluid state. And where is the current coming from? There's no origin point I can track, no end point. Something is pushing it along, but it's not gravity. This defies reason!"
Maru chimed in, "A fool is he who looks for reason in this benighted age."
"The Blood Talons seemed to think this was the way to Dimmamar," Reddam volunteered.
"The golden arsehole trusts Daemons," Ferrac scoffed, "I wouldn't put much stock in his words."
But Maru countered, "Aronyx claims to have come this way once, as a mere Initiate. He seemed troubled by those days, he would not say what he encountered. But they survived, surely that offers hope."
Coluber shook his head, "I see the River, but where are the dead?"
"Don't encourage them," Ferrac grunted.
Coluber sighed, "Aronyx said we would be tested, personally. When we are alone, and vulnerable. I see no point in prolonging the suspense. I suggest we retire to our barracks and wait for whatever is to come."
Kerubim scowled, crinkling his silver face, "I am going straight to the Logic Engines and parsing this data. There must be an underlying principle to this… happening."
"You do that," Ferrac snorted, "Better than polishing your chrome-ass again."
"Just go," Coluber ordered, "And keep your weapons handy."
The officers trudged out, leaving Coluber alone. He sighed as he gazed over the billet, seeing the mess of his sand garden. He'd have to get a Chattel up here to sort it out later, but for today he had other concerns. He was tempted to sit and wait for the danger to reveal itself, or stare at the stars, but a Chapter Master's work was never done. So he sat and began reading tedious reports. Diminishing victuals, mounting damage to the Serpens Rex caused by the Ghostwind, crew losses to the stilling. Should they reach Dimmamar he wished dearly there was some functioning Imperial presence there, the Amber Vipers could do with a press-ganging to replace their chattels.
Minutes stretched out into hours as Coluber worked through his Cogitator's backlog. The world outside became distant as his mind processed the reports. The Astropaths had heard nothing since they crossed the Rift, he had no idea what state the Imperium was in on Terra's side. He wasn't even sure how long they'd been travelling. Not a single temporal reference had they encountered. Each transit through the Ghostwind may have cost them years in realspace, or they may return to Sanctus to find mere weeks had passed. Until they arrived he had no choice save to trust all was well.
He was just sorting through a pile of reports from the Cerberii, asking that more Chattels have their tongues removed and be sent to serve them, when he sensed a presence in his quarters. His hand strayed to Venom's hilt and his back straightened. In a sudden burst of motion he was upright, sword in hand, glaring into the corners. Someone was there; someone had appeared without stirring a breath of air. Coluber saw a shadow, defying even Space Marine eyes, half in reality, half out.
"You may as well put that away," a faint voice echoed, "Swords are of no use."
"Who are you?!" Coluber snarled, "Nathanal?"
"I am not he," the voice echoed as the shadow grew larger, taking on form and substance.
"You?!" Coluber hissed, "Hasak!"
But the shadow snorted, "Your guard is not coming, this is private."
"Face me and die Traitor!"
"You were always a dolt, to think you can kill a dead man."
The shadow adopted a hard outline, gaining colour and vibrancy. Towering over Coluber's head was a Space Marine, bald and scarred. His armour was purple and gold, with glorious filigree and a goblet icon similar to Coluber's own but golden not black. A psychic hood rose over his head, giving him an eldritch cast. In his hand was rod, with twin projector vanes at either end. This was his torso and head, but below the waist was abomination. The Space Marine walked on eight arachnid legs, that skittered as he moved. Vile mutation, a hideous malformation of the Emperor's design. Coluber's gore rose at the affront to the blessed purity of the human form, but that was nothing compared to his hatred for the face presented. Reviled, despised by all, accursed and damned. A face Coluber had hated for so long that his hearts burned at the mere sight.
"Sarpedon," Coluber growled.
"So I am," the Traitorous Soul Drinker acknowledged.
"You come to kill me," Coluber hissed as he raised his blade.
Sarpedon looked down at the blade with a smirk, "Put that down, you can't kill me, and I can't touch you."
"You expect me to accept your word?!"
"Try then, make a fool of yourself. It makes no difference to me."
Sarpedon skittered forward and Coluber saw he remained a ghost. There was a transparency to him, walls behind faintly visible through his mass. This was more the suggestion of a Space Marine, than the actuality. A memory conjured by an idle mind, not real in any sense. Still Coluber kept his blade up, circling warily as Sarpedon moved to the window and stared outwards.
"You seem to have done rather well for yourself," Sarpedon commented, "Chapter Master."
"No thanks to you," Coluber hissed.
"You sound aggrieved," Sarpedon smirked.
Coluber's anger spiked, "You took everything from us! Our chapter, our fleet, our honour! We were homeless, friendless, hunted by all. My company hunted you across the stars, seeking vengeance, but you died before we could catch up. You even denied us your death."
"I left behind the gene-tech you used to build all this," Sarpedon sniffed.
"Don't think I owe you anything save contempt!"
Sarpedon closed his eyes wearily and when he opened them sighed, "I never knew you survived, I thought I had accounted for all the Soul Drinkers. You should be glad of that, had I known I would have let you catch up, and then I'd have been forced to kill you all."
"Or I'd have killed you," Coluber snarled.
"Keep telling yourself that," Sarpedon scoffed dismissively.
Coluber's ire grew, "Have you come simply to make idle threats?!"
"You summoned me," Sarpedon replied, "It seems I loom large in your mind. And for your information the enmity between us come entirely from your side."
"Liar!"
"I speak only truth, I would have welcomed you, had you approached me in good faith. I never bore any hatred for my Brothers, even the misguided ones. Everything I did was born of necessity, not out of choice."
Coluber growled, "You betrayed the Imperium!"
But Sarpedon shouted, "They betrayed us! The Soul Drinkers were the best of men, the finest Chapter of all the Astartes. We laid claim to our due, as is our Emperor-given right, but were given insult. Our most precious relic was stolen, our pride besmirched. When moved to correct the dishonour the Inquisition condemned us for it. Even then I would have dealt fairly with them, but they Excommunicated us. They forced the conflict, not I."
"Why do you plague me?" Coluber lamented.
"You summoned me," Sarpedon sniffed, "You tell me."
Coluber sneered, "You arrogance has not changed. You attacked our allies, you crossed the line!"
But Sarpedon snorted, "Don't talk to me about lines crossed. You've crossed more than I ever did."
"I..." Coluber gulped.
"Don't lie to me. I know you've killed Imperial servants, loyal Space Marines even, and looted their corpses. You've bartered your skills like the meanest mercenary: stolen, lied, double-crossed and betrayed. Even when dealing with your finest allies you sneak about around their backs and pick their pockets."
"You don't know anything," Coluber hissed.
"Where'd that armour you're wearing come from?" Sarpedon pressed, "Those tanks in your vaults, the ships and planes. Where'd this Starfort come from? You have broken every tenant of honour that binds the Adeptus Astartes. The only reason you haven't been cast down and obliterated for your crimes is that a certain Regent holds you useful. Face it; you are no better than me."
"You don't know me!" Coluber shouted, "You don't know the decisions I've had to make!"
Sarpedon retorted, "I know you inside and out. I know the desperate need that drives you, the dream that keeps you going. A vision of a proud and glorious Chapter, acting as heroes should. You wave off every crime because the end justifies the means, excuse every broken oath because the people you double-cross deserve it. I wanted the Soul Drinkers to be noble heroes, as the Emperor intended, not slaves to a corrupt Imperium, and would do anything to make that happen. You want the same for your Amber Vipers; you chase the same dream as I did and go to the same extremes. I know you Coluber, because I am you!"
Coluber was rocked back by the revelation. He wanted to deny it, to shout denials but his tongue was locked. The shameful deeds he'd committed weighed heavily upon him, the dishonours he'd accumulated. He'd told himself it was all necessary, that the Amber Viper's worthy deeds outweighed his crimes, but faced with Sarpedon he could not lie. The Marine he despised most, the man he'd hated half his life, was but a mirror for his own disgrace. A truth that nearly broke him.
Coluber's hearts weighed as much as neutron stars in his chest, "I am damned."
"Truly," Sapedon agreed, "You are condemned by your own tongue. It is time for justice to fall."
"What?!"
"Take your blade and slit your throat," Sarpedon urged, "Deliver the judgement you know you deserve."
Coluber glanced at his sword, seeing the edge glinting. He could do it, one slice and his life would end. He knew he deserved it, his litany of crimes could merit no other outcome. End his life, deliver justice, for the lives he'd taken, for the lies he'd told and dishonours he'd accumulated. Any Space Marine who knew the things he'd done would agree it was just, and yet his hand did not move. He could not kill himself, not when there was a mission yet to be completed. Coluber had a duty to fulfil, and that meant everything to him.
"No," Coluber spat with a glare.
"You know you deserve death, as I did," Sarpedon uttered, "You and I am the same."
"No," Coluber retorted, "We are not. You abandoned your duty: to the Emperor, to the Imperium, to mankind. You claimed you did it for the Soul Drinkers, but in truth you sought only self-aggrandisement. Never content to serve, you wanted to stand above everyone else, to prove your superiority. You did it for your own glory!"
Sarpedon snorted, "And you are different?"
Coluber affirmed, "So long as I have a duty, I am. I built the Amber Vipers to serve the Emperor and His Imperium, to serve mankind! We fight as we must, dirty and hard, but every war has been for the betterment of the Imperium. The Amber Vipers are loyal, and will always remain so."
"Your tale is not over yet," Sarpedon scoffed, "There are plenty more betrayals to come in your future."
"No," Coluber uttered, "There is time to prove we are leal and honourable. Begone shade, you shall not trick me again. Your words are but echoes of guilt, and I shall heed you no more."
Sarpedon looked contemptuous, "You will see, in time. I will be proven right, before the end."
"Not so long as I stand to my duty," Coluber affirmed.
Sarpedon faded from view but his words lingered, "It is inescapable, by your own deeds you will be condemned. You and I are the same."
The ghost vanished and Coluber was alone. The encounter left Coluber reeling, his spirit in turmoil. The fateful words struck to the core of him but he clung to his denial. He was not Sarpedon, he never would be. To the end he would fight to prove the shade wrong, no matter the cost he would not allow himself to become that which he hated most.
