Venenum Filios Chapter 23
The future hung before them, so tantalisingly close, beckoning them forward like moths to a flame. It was bright and shining, a beautiful prospect just waiting for the first person to reach out and take it. Such an alluring possibility, a future of strength and pride where valour and honour were restored unto them.
Coluber could practically feel it in his grasp as he raced along, chasing the signs hidden deep underground. Behind him came a stream of purple armoured warriors, moving at a swift pace. Coluber counted once more, twenty-three of them including him, so few, so very few. Each one of them had seen hardship beyond compare, all of them had fought by his side since the dark day of betrayal. They were a small nucleus from which to rebuild a whole Chapter but they would suffice, they had to.
Coluber knew that there were yet great challenges ahead, arming and equipping a Chapter was no small endeavour. Most Chapters drew upon the labour of the scores of worlds within their protectorate, including Forgeworlds. He had no such surfeit of supply, but he was not worried. That was a problem for tomorrow; today his only goal was to secure the future of the Chapter, the means to rebuild.
As he ran he spied another symbol of the Chapter carved into the walls, telling him that he was on the right track. He despised his Traitorous kin but he couldn't fault their prudence, they had been wise enough to hide the Gene-tech from Stratix Luminae where no one would think to look. Even the Heretic filth had recognised that keeping such valuable gene-tech with them had been inherently dangerous. Better to have a fall-back if things went ill, a secure contingency plan should they suffer irreplaceable losses.
Coluber wondered if Sarpedon himself had ever walked here, but then he discounted it. Coluber had acquired these coordinates from the torture and interrogation of a lone survivor of Sarpedon's renegade band, one more individual who had slipped away and survived long after the Imperium declared the Soul Drinkers officially extinct. Before he was executed the Heretic had claimed to have been sent out here with a few trusted retainers, to secret Sarpedon's prize somewhere safe. Despite his doubts that it was in any way true he had to admit it had been a sound plan, except that now it would serve Coluber's needs instead.
Coluber saw out of the corner of his eye that Ferrac and Shrios were matching him pace for pace, just as eager as he was to find their objective. Shrios would be essential to the new Chapter's birth, not just for the rigorous gene-implantation of recruits but in the training of new Apothecaries to succeed him. Ferrac would also be important in the new Chapter, his strong right hand and experience as a field commander would see him rise far. If Coluber was to be a Chapter Master then Ferrac would be his First Captain.
Coluber shook off the thought; it was pointless to get ahead of himself. First they must find the gene-vault and secure the priceless material within. As if summoned by the thought Coluber found himself stumbling through a narrow aperture and emerging into a vast hall. It was definitely a hall, the signs of artificial construction clear and sharp.
Their stablights illuminated walls that were laid with marble stonework and arched buttresses that held up a high roof. A score of entrances led off into the darkness, some so small that a child could barely fit, others wide enough for a squad of Astartes to march in side by side. The floor was a broken field of mosaics; their tiles shifted and piled up by rough hands and the marks of heavy machines.
Yet none of this drew Coluber's eye, what truly consumed his attention was the ribbed mass of reinforced metal set into the far wall. It was pristine and untarnished, a brand new fixture set into a hole that had been hacked out of the faded stonework of the wall. It was round, probably cylindrical, three times the height of an Astartes and there was no telling how far back it went. In the front of it was a single door, marked with the symbol of the Soul Drinkers.
Coluber stepped forward as the Soul Drinkers spread out to secure the hall, his eyes fixed upon the shining metal. Here at last was the culmination of his quest, the means to fulfil his vow and he felt rapturous as he proclaimed, "The gene-vault, it is here."
Ferrac followed him saying, "Looks like they just dropped the whole thing down from orbit and then dragged it here in one piece. No wonder they had to clear out the heathens, it must have taken ages to widen the tunnels enough to get it in here."
Shrios was one step behind them and eyed the vault saying, "I see thermal exchange ports, they're active, there's cryogenic storage going on here. If this thing was once an Apothecarion's cyro-vault then they could have stored hundreds of Gene-seed samples in there, not to mention every sacred machine necessary to gestate the implants."
Coluber stopped at the door and laid a hand upon the cold metal, he gently brushed the lines of the Golden Chalice and whispered, "This is it, the answer to all our prayers. We have to get inside."
Ferrac rapped a knuckle on the door and spat, "Adamantium, no way are we blasting our way through that with the paltry explosives we have left."
"That would destroy the gene-tech," Shrios countered eyeing a discrete panel set just outside the door, "Standard protocols would be to incinerate the contents in case of an unauthorised intrusion. We have to be subtle."
Coluber drew back his hand and said, "How long will it take to bypass the Machine Spirits?"
"I'm no techmarine but I worked in the Apothecarion long enough to know how to get inside a Cyro -vault," Shrios replied as he flipped up a display on his Narthecium and compared it to the panel, "Give me an hour or so."
Coluber stepped back and said, "Very well, Ferrac let us secure this space."
As the Apothecary set to work they moved off, directing the survivors of their force to cover the various entrances. They were the best the Imperium had to offer but this was a poor defensive position. The space was wide and open, lacking cover and they had no heavy weapons at their disposal, worst of all they lacked the numbers to defend every entrance, if an attack came they could only hope to hold one or two doorways. Still they did the best they could and soon they were as ready as they were ever going to be.
Once set Ferrac stepped closer and said, "Once we have the vault, what then? Where do we go, what do we do?"
Coluber answered honestly, "I haven't given it any thought, finding this vault has been our only goal. I can only trust that we shall find a way, we haven't come this far to fall short at the last hurdle. We can find a way to replenish our stores once we are away from here."
"I won't go back to raiding Imperial shipping," Ferrac growled, "No more dishonour you promised us."
"No, I won't become a renegade either," Coluber agreed, "We will need to find an advanced planet or maybe a Forgeworld desperate enough to support us."
"Support us? They would have to be desperate indeed," Ferrac lamented, "Most Imperial or Mechanicus forces would shoot a Soul Drinker at first sight."
Coluber's reply was cut-off as one of the Brothers called out from his post, "Movement, movement in the tunnels!"
Ferrac instantly spun on his heel and shouted, "Loyalist or Traitor?"
"It makes no difference," Coluber stated, "Make ready for battle, nobody is taking this away from us!"
Instantly the squads formed up before the tunnel in question, bolters loaded and ready. Coluber and Ferrac joined them, weapons primed and eyes sharp. Venom lit up with an electric tang and lethal energies ran along the length of the blade making the amber jewel in its hilt glow. Coluber knew in his hearts that this was it, either they defeated whatever was coming down those tunnels or they died in glorious battle, there were no other alternatives. He welcomed it, either fate was worthy of an Astartes and he swore that he would never go back to the hollow existence he had been eking out until now.
He saw the other Soul Drinkers equally energised and he cried, "Be joyous Brothers, the day we have awaited for so long has come at last. Today we shall see the end of the old Chapter and its litany of mistakes. In the fires of battle we shall witness the birth of a new Chapter, a better one! Ave Imperator!"
"Ave Imperator!" the initiates roared and then a moment later bulky shapes emerged from the darkness of the tunnels and the line opened fire.
A thunderous volley of bolt-rounds roared up one of the widest tunnels, smashing into the oncoming forms. Power armoured shapes went down under the barrage, falling down with great craters blown into them. Coluber let off salvo after salvo, targeting closing foes and cutting them down. Between bursts he saw the foe bore horned helms and scaled armour and he knew it was the Alpha Legion, come again to finish what they had started earlier.
Coluber's heart filled with scorn for they had sorely underestimated his forces. They were armed and ready, catching the Traitors in a confined approach and slaughtering them in droves. The bolter fire poured on, filling the tunnel end to end while a pair of flamers shot forth burning promethium in great gouts of flame. The Soul Drinkers were a line of righteous defiance, becoming once more the Emperor's finest and his greatest champions. Death was in their hands and they dispensed His justice with chilling ruthlessness and terrifying zeal. This was the reason they had been made and Coluber exulted in the fight, in doing what he had been born to do.
His triumph was dashed when a shining ball of plasma came out of nowhere, catching Brother Anatos in the back and melting though him in a moment. Twenty-two, he counted, that was all that remained now. Coluber spun about and snarled in anger when he saw a second group of Traitors emerging from another tunnel behind them. He realised then that the first approach had been but a feint, to draw their eyes away from the true attack. It was a simple ploy and one he could have guarded against had he the numbers to properly guard the many tunnels. As it was the Soul Drinkers were now caught in a cross-fire, trapped on both sides.
Coluber looked over the scores of new foes and saw they bore glowing plasma barrels and melta guns, wicked claws and cursed blades. There were the hunch-backed forms of Raptors, mixed with the hated Chaos Marines and the bulky forms of Obliterators, standing head and shoulders above the rest. At their head was a Sorcerer, brandishing a staff with a three-headed serpent on top and beside him a brute with a double-headed axe.
Coluber took in the sight in a moment; the Soul Drinkers were outnumbered and outgunned, surrounded on two sides and with no means of escape. There was no possibility of besting such a foe and no way to survive the coming onslaught. That left only one option open to him, the choice he had secretly longed to make for decades.
Face with an unbeatable foe and the certainty of death Coluber raised Venom high one last time and cried, "With me Soul Drinkers, make the price of your lives high! Cold and fast Brothers… Charge!"