Venenum Filios Chapter21

Silence fell over the battlefield and the darkness crept back in to wrap itself around all present. The corpses of friend and foe lay cooling as they embraced, all enmity forgotten in death. Spent shells were scattered everywhere and scorch marks festooned the walls, burning away the mould and lichen that covered them. The air was thick with smoke and the stench of death but that did not bother the victors, Space Marines were conditioned to be above such concerns.

In the middle of the battlefield Commander Coluber was standing astride the fallen Obliterator, carefully checking that it was really dead. Sometimes it could be hard to tell with the filth of Chaos but he was reasonably certain that this foe was actually deceased. He drew back Venom and stuttered its power field, the flaring energy burning off the black oily blood on its length to leave it pristine. Coluber sheathed his blade and jumped down from the mountainous corpse, landing spritely on his feet. Inside he felt exultant and the giddy rush of victory filled him, a glorious battle against a terrible foe, what more could he ask for?

Finally after so long his Marines had been granted a righteous conflict, a fight without moral compromise, dishonour or shameful retreat. So many years of scrounging for supplies, he lamented, stealing from his cousins and killing them where necessary. So many years wasted skulking about the galaxy, chasing rumours and gossip in the ever diminishing hope that things could go back to the way they were.

With a flash of insight Coluber realised that this was the first time since the betrayal that his Marines had been acting like Astartes, like Soul Drinkers. For decades now they hadn't been true to their spirit, they had been acting like thieves and bandits not true warriors of the Emperor. Coluber didn't know how long this had lasted, Warp Travel being what it was time had slipped away from them, in fact he wasn't even certain what year this was. Yet he swore enough was enough, they wouldn't carry on like this; they couldn't. This was the time for them to either rise from the ashes as something new or to finally die once and for all.

Coluber surveyed the cavern, seeing his Soul Drinkers were equally triumphant. They were standing proudly, moving confidently as they swept the battlefield, searching for survivors and collecting dropped bolters to salvage their ammunition. Each and every one of them bore terrible wounds, none had escaped unscathed but they seemed elated by their scars. Finally marks worthy of remembrance, badges of honour, not of shame.

Coluber picked out a pair of Soul Drinkers and called, "You two, recon ahead, make sure the way is clear. Check that the Traitors have really gone and for thrones' sake be wary of ambushes!"

The two bowed briefly then ran off, heading along the tunnel that the Traitors had retreated up. Coluber trusted that they would be undetected, the Soul Drinkers hadn't survived this long without learning a thing or two about stealth.

While his recon party probed ahead Coluber approached Apothecary Shrios, who was tending to the wounded. He was working on patching up a gut wound but thankfully the Brother's gene-implants were already doing most of his work for him, only the most serious of wounds could fell an Astartes. Yet Shrios' cryo-flanks were clinking full, clearly he had been called upon to extract the gene-seed of some dead Brothers.

Coluber steeled himself and called out, "Shrios, what is the butcher's bill?"

Shrios answered without looking up from his work, "Eleven of theirs, five of ours."

Coluber's lips pulled back over his teeth in a grimace, that was a steep price to pay. Twenty-three, he thought to himself, twenty-three Soul Drinkers left. They were so very close to the edge of extinction, they had to succeed here or all would be lost. Shrios glanced up from the warrior he was tending and said, "The bodies are over there, the others are waiting for the rite."

Coluber nodded, knowing too well what was to come. A ritual as old as their flight from the Traitors. Coluber strode over to a corner where five bodies were laid out, their chests exposed where the gene-seed had been extracted and he heard the noise of the remaining Soul Drinkers gathering behind him. He waited until all were assembled then looked upon the fallen and began the rite. It was brief and to the point, words that had formed out of necessity in the heat of battle then become a habit, then a ritual.

"Brothers Adrik, Tobea, Neodul, Bolac, Vallieus," Coluber declared as he recited their names, "You died as you lived: Cold and Fast. You gave your lives so that the flame may endure; now your deaths too shall stoke the fire… one last time."

Coluber turned his back and stepped away, hearing behind him a frenzy break out as the surviving Soul Drinkers descended upon the slain, tearing off their armour parts. This was necessary rite, without a Techmarine each Brother had been forced to learn to tend their own gear, replacing broken parts with whatever they could get, even the plate of the dead. At first the rite had been done solemnly and with great reverence but the heat of battle and years on the run had stripped all dignity from this, as it had done so much else.

Coluber heard arguments breaking out, insults and punches being thrown as his Marines fought over scraps and it made him grit his teeth in anger. Only a few minutes earlier he had been rejoicing in the renewed spirit of the Soul Drinkers, now they were bickering and fighting over the dead like hungry rats. Coluber thought, what wouldn't he give for a team of skilled serf-artisans to tend to their gear? What couldn't he do with the resources available to a Chapter like the Storm Heralds? The Soul Drinkers couldn't carry on like this he knew and he swore that after today they wouldn't have to.

Coluber strode away from the scrum and noticed that there was one Brother who had not taken part in the rite, it was Ferrac and he was standing all alone, markedly lacking a prisoner. Coluber marched up to him and barked, "Ferrac, where is the prisoner?"

Ferrac answered, "Gone, he broke away in the fighting and ran off."

"He ran off?" Coluber asked in disbelief. He stared hard at Ferrac but the helm gave nothing away. Coluber switched their vox link to private, so that the others would not hear and he probed, "Did he escape or did you let him go?"

Ferrac refused to sound guilty as he said, "Does it make a difference?"

Coluber growled, "You know how close we are to the edge, we needed him, we needed his gear."

Ferrac sounded angry now as he spat back, "For what, so we can continue to perpetrate more acts of shame, bring more dishonour to our name!"

Coulber shook his head and said, "I do understand, the things we have been forced to do to survive shame me too. But we are so close now, once we have the Gene-vault we can leave all this behind, start a new page in our history. We can be again that which we once were."

"Wake up," Ferrac barked, "The Soul Drinkers are dead, we died decades ago, why cant you accept that."

Coluber was angered now and growled, "You may want to die, to go out in a blaze of glory but I won't let it end like that. I am going to save us whether you want it or not."

Ferrac paused and said, "Is that what you think of me, that I want us all to die? All this time together and you never understood."

Coluber was confused and asked, "What do you mean?"

Ferrac stepped closer and explained, "You are trying to save our bodies but I am trying to save our souls, the heart of the Soul Drinkers, the zealous ardour that defines us. Daenythos taught us to live cold and fast, to be fierce and relentless but honourable too, perhaps too honourable for such a dark universe. He taught us to fight for the Emperor's dream, even when the Imperium itself doesn't, even if it meant our deaths. You may find the gene-vault; you may raise a new generation to wear the purple and gold but without that zeal will they truly be Soul Drinkers?"

Coluber was shocked to hear his own reservations echoed back at him and he said, "I understand your concerns, I share them but we can still do this. The future of the Chapter can be honourable, a new page free of the stains of the past."

Ferrac inclined his head at the other Soul Drinkers, who were still arguing over scraps and he said, "Will it, or will the tarnish of what we have done blemish the Soul Drinkers forever? We have lived as scavengers and thieves; we have spilled the blood of loyal Astartes, deeds like that cannot be forgotten. These ways cannot be allowed to consume our spirit, we have to draw a line somewhere or we are no better than the Traitor filth. That was why I let Persion go, because when I saw him fighting for me I realised that if I didn't then I would not be worthy of redemption."

The words cut into Coluber and he said, "I hear you Ferrac and I swear to you I won't let the future be like that. The mistakes of the past will not be allowed to persist, we will rebuild not only in body but in spirit too. The future is a blank page for us and we can write an entirely new saga upon it. I see a fresh start for all of us, free of dishonour and kinstrife. A new tomorrow where the Astartes are truly the best of men, in body and in soul."

Ferrac didn't sound convinced and said, "And what of the Inquisition?"

Coluber was surprised and said, "What of them?"

"The Inquisition has declared the Soul Drinkers Excommunicate Traitoris," Ferrac stated, "Did you think they would forget it? That if we just turn up shouting our loyalty, then they will forgive us for our crimes?"

Coluber snarled, "That was because of Sarpedon's treachery, not ours."

Ferrac growled back, "You think the Inquisition cares? Do you think that they can even tell the difference?"

Coluber sighed, knowing it to be true, his anger slipped away and he explained, "You are right, if we go to them helm in hand, begging for forgiveness they would destroy us without a second's thought. No, what we must do is present them with a fait accompli, a new Chapter that is extant and loyal. When they see us reeving across the stars, fighting the Emperor's wars, then they will know our worth. It will doubtless take much time and blood, and I am sure that the Inquisition will have its own price, but we can do it. The Chapter needs you to make that happen Ferrac, can I trust you to play your part, can I count on you to stand with me?"

Ferrac nodded and held out a hand saying, "You have to ask? I have always fought with you, I may not agree that a bright and rosy future lies ahead for the Soul Drinkers but will not leave you now. You have my blade."

Coluber was glad to hear that and he took the hand in a firm grip, then remarked, "It occurs to me that the new Chapter will require spiritual guidance… a new order of Chaplains."

"Don't look at me," Ferrac quipped, "Find some other fool to do it, a skull-helm doesn't suit me at all."

Whatever Coluber was going to say next was interrupted as the recon party returned. Coluber faced them and called out, "Report!"

"The Traitors have fled but there are signs of movement further out. There must be more of them than the few we bested," they explained, "There's more, the way branches out but we found signs of the Chapter deeper in the tunnels. The gene-vault must be ahead."

"At last!" Coluber exclaimed loudly for all to hear, "This is what we have been waiting for, form up Space Marines and prepare for the last battle of the old Soul Drinkers. The time has come to take what is ours, a new future is waiting for each of us, all we have to do is seize it!"