Venenum Filios Chapter 14
Deep underground a party of warriors carefully shifted rubble away, smearing their glorious purple plate with dust and grime. They were working carefully and methodically but making swift progress none the less. The last sector of this ruin lay beyond this cave-in and they were determined to get inside. They had swept all the other possible locations, so by process of elimination the Gene-vault had to be someone beyond his barrier.
Standing at the back Brother-Commander Coluber was waiting, impatiently gripping the hilt of his relic sword. He wanted to bark and shout at his Marines but knew they were working as fast as they dared, a wrong move now could bring down the roof and bury them all. To distract himself he counted heads, looking over the numbers of survivors. Twenty-eight, he counted, twenty-eight Space Marines that was all that was left of the Soul Drinkers. All that remained out of a Chapter that had once numbered a thousand. Coluber snarled as he remembered the events that had lead them here, the black day of treachery and betrayal that had seen them consigned to disgrace and this slow death. It had been the day that his sword, Venom, had been passed to him and the day that he had sworn an oath, one he could not break.
Coluber glanced over and saw Apothecary Shrios tapping his arm impatiently. The Apothecary was the Soul Drinker's only hope of revival, his only chance to fulfil his oath. Shrios had carefully preserved as much gene-seed as he could, collecting it from each Brother lost on their voyages. Thirty-seven of them, more than now remained alive. It was not enough, if the Soul Drinkers were to rise again, they needed more. They needed gene-seed, equipment, tools and recruits. All of which were in short supply.
Coluber moved on and looked at Ferrac, who was guarding the prisoner. Ferrac was a gruff warrior, admirable but sadly he had lost heart. He no longer believed that the Soul Drinkers could be restored, he only thought now of a noble death, one last blaze of glory. Coluber understood that sentiment all too well, he often shared it, but he was held back by his oath, by his promise to the one who had given him Venom.
Coluber looked last at his prisoner, that strange cousin from another Chapter. His plate was dull and inglorious but perfectly maintained and Coluber envied his wealth of resources. Coluber had kept him alive because the warrior might prove useful but he wasn't foolish enough to leave the Storm Herald unguarded. A part of him wished he could embrace his cousin, to stand together as Brothers but it wasn't possible. The Soul Drinkers were on a cliff's edge and one slip could send them into oblivion. Honour, integrity, honesty all these had long since been cast aside in the struggle to survive and he had seen and done things that he would never have thought possible before.
Coluber reflected that he had told Persion the truth, his Marines were loyal in their hearts but that wasn't the whole truth. In order to survive they had been forced into deeds most would deem heretical. Coluber had personally slain dozens of Inquisitors, led raids upon Imperial supply posts and shipping, stolen Navigators and Astropaths from their rightful posts. They had even stalked smoking battlefields, flinching away armour parts and weapons for the cause.
More than anything that had sat ill with Coluber but it had to be done; no amount of glorious decorations could hide the Soul Drinker's dearth of supply and skilled artisans. Necessity had turned him into a thief but worse it had made him a kinslayer, fighting other Chapters for their supplies and relics. In a way Terra's Edict of Obliteration had made their lives simpler, it was easier to slip by unnoticed when everyone thought you were dead. Still Coluber had loyalist blood upon his hands and he had the sinking feeling that soon he would do so again. If these Storm Heralds were after the gene-vault too then the Soul Drinkers were in a race, one he had to win at any cost.
He was distracted by Ferrac saying, "This is going to be another dead-end."
Shrios countered, "You don't know that, this could be the one."
"Pah," spat Ferrac, "Look at our record: we were too late at Entymion IV, the Veiled Region gave us nothing but tears and Stratix Luminae… we lost five Brothers at Stratix Luminae."
"But think of what we learned there," argued Shrios, "We know the Traitors suffered rampant mutations but they found a cure. Gene-tech advanced enough to undo mutation; we imagine what we could do with that. We could rebuild everything we've lost!"
Ferrac growled, "And how many dead-ends have we poked through trying to find it? I feel like we've peered under every stone in the galaxy."
"Enough," ordered Coluber, "We know the Traitors stashed it somewhere and we've exhausted every other lead. This is the last possible place they could have hidden it, it has to be here."
Ferrac sank back before his Commander but privately Coluber agreed. He almost wanted to give into Ferrac's way of thinking, to end it all in a blaze of glory. Yet he couldn't, he had a promise to keep, a vow made to the one who bequeathed him Venom. He could remember every moment of that day with aching clarity and agonising detail.
The crunch of metal on Ceramite, the tearing of armour in a frazzling surge of power and the spray of hot lifeblood. That was what Coluber felt when he drove Venom into the heart of his opponent. The warrior before him went still, frozen by the sudden cessation of his life. He went limp and slowly slid off the blade's point, whispering "Traitor" as he died.
Coluber felt shock and dismay surging within him, he had killed a fellow Soul Drinker, a deed that there could be no going back from. He smothered it in rage and hate; he couldn't afford to be daunted right now. He gathered himself up and shook the blood off Venom's edge and sneered, "You are the Traitor."
Coluber looked about, seeing his squad clearing the bridge of the Magnificence, surrounding Sarpedon's filthy traitors and gunning them down. His men held the advantage in numbers and swiftly ended the fight. The bridge wasn't overly large, the Magnificence was only a Gladius-class escort, but like all the ships in the Soul Drinker's fleet it was beautifully adorned. There were triumphant frescos, engraved litanies from the Catechisms Martial and small statuettes of famous Captains. It was beautiful, it was glorious and it was theirs.
Coluber was pushed aside as Apothecary Shrios hurried to the fallen Traitor, extracting his gene-seed for later use. Coluber didn't begrudge him his duty, the Gene-seed belong to the Chapter and they would need every last morsel if they were to recover from this treachery, from this coup.
"The bridge is ours," Sergeant Coluber declared, "Get the serf-chattels back to their posts, I want this ship ready as soon as possible."
Then he opened a vox link and called, "Strike team two report, is the Enginarium secured?"
A crackle preceded the reply and then Ferrac's voice came back, "Section secured."
"Sergeant Ferrac?" asked Coluber in confusion, "What are you doing, where is Techmarine Gromaas?"
"Dead," replied Ferrac, "We took some casualties."
"Emperor wept," swore Coluber for that was a heavy blow indeed, Gromaas was the last loyal Techmarine, his death would be a terrible loss.
"Get the reactors ready," Coluber ordered then turned and spat, "Someone raise 10th Captain Vevas."
Long seconds passed as the serf-chattels worked to establish a link to the distant Fortress-Barque then at last the static cleared and a harsh voice called, "Coluber, is that you: report!"
Coluber answered, "Captain Vevas, we were successful. You were right; the picket fleet is still contested. We were able to slip on board unnoticed. We hold the Magnificence and are awaiting further orders."
"Good," Vevas replied, "I am directing all loyal squads your way, you are to take the Magnificence and withdraw. Cover your tracks; make the Traitors think you are dead."
Coluber heard the words and felt a cold chill run down his spine as he said, "Captain, what about you?"
"I'm… not coming," replied Vevas.
"What?!" cried Coluber, "Captain don't be rash, we can come get you."
"No," said Vevas sadly, "You can't risk it. The Magnificence is but one ship, you will be blown out of the void. The Traitors have the Fortress-Barque, they have the Glory, you need to run."
"I can't leave you my lord," Coluber protested, "Captain I won't do it."
"That was an order," Vevas' voice barked but then more softly he said, "This was always the plan my friend, that's why I gave you Venom. One does not lend a weapon like that, it's yours now… Commander Coluber."
Coluber couldn't believe what he was hearing and said, "No, no it can't end like this, I won't let it. We can rally the picket fleet, retake the Glory, we can still win!"
Vevas' voice was still for a moment then said, "Coluber… I have seen him."
"Sarpedon," breathed Coluber aghast, "You laid eyes upon the arch-traitor?"
"Yes," said Vevas grimly, "He has become a nightmare; he walks on eight arachnid legs and wields powers I can't describe. There's some form of glamour around him, powerfully bewitching, it was all I could do not to throw myself at his feet. The others are all proclaiming this to be a miracle; he has their hearts and minds. Only myself and the scouts seem unaffected, but they outnumber us ten to one."
"Vevas," Coluber said, "Let me help you."
"You can help me by getting the hell out of here," Vevas declared, "I will draw the Traitor's attention but I can't hold them for long, soon they will notice that you're still alive. Don't let it end like this, not in disgrace and shame. Take as many as you can and run, rebuild and restore the Soul Drinker's honour."
"I… can't leave you, not like this," Coluber whispered.
"Then make me a promise old friend," Vevas stated, "Promise me you will keep the flame alive, promise me you will wield Venom proudly. Promise me that you will live, to restore our honour and make the Traitor's pay for what they have done."
"I swear it," Coluber declared forlornly, "The Soul Drinkers will not die in disgrace on my watch."
"Then this is goodbye," Vevas replied, "Make your withdrawal, I am going to launch a full frontal assault as a distraction for you. Who knows, maybe the Emperor will smile upon me and I will take Sarpedon's head before they kill me."
"Goodbye my friend," Coluber said with depthless sorrow and then the vox died.
Shrios stepped up and said, "He dies as he lived: Gloriously."
Coluber drew in a painful breath then hardened his will and declared, "Ready the ship, we will gather as many loyal gunships on board as we can but anyone not here soon is lost. Meanwhile prepare three Atonomic charges for timed detonation, we will drop them in our wake and then slip away under the flare of the blasts. It should look like a reactor breach took out the Magnificence, the Traitors will assume that we all died trying to seize the ship. They should have no idea that any true Soul Drinkers still live."
As the serf-chattels hurried to obey Coluber gazed out of the Oculus. With a pained growl he spat, "This isn't over Traitors. When we are strong enough, we're coming back for you."
Coluber snapped back to reality with a grimace, the pain not lessening a mote since that black day. The burning need for vengeance had driven him far but then the prospect of claiming retribution had been stolen away, the Traitors getting themselves killed by other means. Still the fire kept him going, refusing to let him stop. He would keep that hatred close to his hearts and use it to destroy anything that opposed them.
He fixed his eyes upon the prisoner's back and he gripped Venom's hilt, knowing that if these Storm Heralds tried to steal the gene-tech then he would not hesitate to cut them down. Nothing could stand between the Soul Drinkers and their resurrection, the flame would not go out on his watch.