Venenum Filios Chapter 26

A bead of sweat ran down his neck, a hint of the tension filling the hall but Commander Coluber ignored it. His grip on his bolt pistol was firm and unwavering, held out before him in a challenge. Behind him the Soul Drinkers held their own bolters ready, just waiting for the order to fire. Seventeen of them, Coulber counted, all that had survived the battle, all that remained of their Chapter.

All around them lines of Storm Heralds were standing with their own weapons held ready, among them a grim skull-helm Chaplain who was ominously saying nothing. Coluber could not help but notice that they held a serious advantage, both in numbers and in the quality of their arsenal but he wouldn't back down, he couldn't.

Across from him the Storm Herald's Captain Toran was gazing at him with one organic eye and an augmetic one. His face was covered in a web of black veins, hinting at serious problems in his gene-seed, no wonder they wanted the Gene-vault so badly. Toran held a magnificent sword in his hands, equal to Venom in workmanship. He was ready to use it but was not attacking, instead he said, "Cousin, I have seen you fight and I believe that you are yet loyal to Him on Terra but if you force my hand then I will hammer you down until you are dust."

"I can't let you steal the gene-tech," Coluber replied firmly, "We need it, we need it all."

Toran shook his head and said, "We do not want to steal anything, we merely need to examine the contents. We have need of the information within; it may lead us to a cure for our condition. We don't want the gene-seed itself."

Coluber spat, "I wish I could believe that, I wish I could trust you but I cant. If you try to enter the vault I will destroy you."

From behind the Captain a Marine stepped forward, Persion their former prisoner and he said, "Do you think you can take us when we have you surrounded and outgunned?"

Coluber snarled, "It doesn't matter, without that gene-tech we are dead anyway. Better to die fighting than fade into nothing. I won't let that happen."

Toran tried to reason with him, "But what if there's a better way? If you let our Apothecary examine the contents of the vault then I shall offer to help you rebuild."

Coluber shook his head and said, "You would never help the likes of us, we can only rely upon ourselves. We have to restore our honour ourselves."

Suddenly a voice arose from behind him, it was Ferrac and he stepped up to say, "Commander is this truly the way to do this, how can restore our honour with acts of treachery?"

Coluber was stunned by the accusation, he didn't take his eyes off Toran but said, "Ferrac, what are you saying?"

Ferrac replied, "You spoke of wiping away the stains of the past but look at us now. What is this but a perpetuation of our sins? We can't build something better upon a foundation of shame."

Coluber was confused and said, "I must do this, the end will justify the means."

Ferrac countered, "That sort of thinking led the old Soul Drinkers into treachery and we have been no better than they were. How many sins have we committed saying that tomorrow will be different? There has always been one justification or another for acting disgracefully and there always will be. If we do not change, here and now, then we never will. Start by asking yourself if you really want to pull that trigger."

Coluber was frozen by the words, the truth cutting into his soul and he whispered, "No… no, I don't."

Coluber lowered his pistol and suddenly the tension lifted, weapons sliding up and away as the Marines stepped back from the brink of battle. Toran lowered his own blade and said, "A wise choice cousin."

Coluber gathered himself and looked at Toran saying, "You spoke of assisting us, what exactly are you offering?"

Toran replied, "I have a fully stocked capital ship, packed the gunwales with supplies and munitions. If you will but trust us then I will in turn entrust that bounty to you. You can take your pick of our supplies, as much as you want."

Coluber was stunned by that, it was everything he had wanted. One capital ship held enough stores to sustain three Companies for an entire campaign. Supplies enough to keep a whole task-force battling on, without needing resupply from a Fortress-Monastery. His small band wouldn't need nearly as much; those provisions could sustain his Marines for years to come.

"There's more," Persion interjected, "We can give you the means to sustain yourselves. We have dedicated workshops and artisan's tools on board, everything you will need to manufacture new munitions and repair your gear. Not to mention fully equipped Apothecarion's for your new recruits. If we transferred their contents to your ship then you wouldn't need to steal supplies anymore, you could become almost self-sufficient."

Coluber's eyes narrowed, that was exactly what he had been dreaming of, suspiciously so. He fixed Persion with a stare and said, "How do you know about our needs?"

Persion tilted his head and replied, "Your comm-protocols are weak, you really need to beseech your Machine-Spirits for new encryption cyphers."

"Does it matter?" interrupted Ferrac, "Think of what they are offering, think of what we could do with that."

Coluber considered it for his band was in a parlous state, even with the gene-tech rebuilding would be an arduous process. This bounty could mean the difference between decades of rebuilding and centuries. If he agreed to this then his Chapter could be born again. He couldn't refuse this, he wouldn't, but still he needed more.

Coluber declared, "You have my interest, I may be able to accept such an accord… with some conditions."

Toran's organic eye glared, the offer had been more than fair and Coluber was testing the bounds of tolerance but the Storm Herald asked cautiously, "What do you want?"

Coluber considered asking for Thunderhawks and new suits of power armour but knew he could only press his luck so far, supplies were one thing but precious relics were another matter entirely. Instead he said, "I need more than tools, I need the hands to use them. I require the skills to forge replacement parts and tend to ailing gear, I also need talented healers to aid in creating new recruits. What I want is a thousand of your most skilled serf-artisans and Medicaes to be transferred to serve under my flag."

That brought gasps, Coluber was asking for blood. Serfs may not be Astartes but they were bound to their Chapter, a bond of service and loyalty that went two ways. Yet like all things their lives were subservient to the Chapter's requirements, their lives forfeit to its needs. Distasteful as it was if it came down to it any Space Marine would trade Serf lives for the survival of their Chapter. How desperate were these Storm Heralds, Coluber wondered, how much of their honour were they willing to sacrifice to save their Chapter?

He saw Toran glance over at his silent Chaplain, who fractionally nodded in agreement then the Captain said, "That is a harsh price, I could not possibly part with more than one hundred serfs."

Coluber's face did not show it but inside he was smiling, the Storm Herald had agreed in principle, now they were just haggling over price. He raised an eyebrow and replied, "I could not possibly manage with less than eight hundred."

Toran blinked in surprise then he caught on and said, "Three hundred."

"Seven hundred," countered Coluber.

"Four hundred," said Toran.

"Five hundred," Coluber stated, "And I want the right to tithe a selection of recruits from this world before we leave, to be our first generation of new neophytes."

"It is agreed," Toran declared as he sheathed his sword and held out a hand.

Coluber sheathed Venom and took the hand saying, "Done and done cousin."

Suddenly the tension in the air broke and everybody relaxed. It was like there had never been any question of them fighting as Storm Heralds and Soul Drinkers came together. They laughed and slapped each other on the pauldrons, feeling the joy of comradeship finally fill them. Marines who moments ago had been pointing weapons congratulated each other and shook hands like long-lost friends. Some even began comparing scars and notes of the battle with the Traitors, boasting of their deeds as warriors are wont to do.

Coluber stepped back, one hand resting on Venom's hilt as he said, "Apothecary Shrios, get that vault open. Let's see what we and our new friends have here."

As the Apothecary hurried over to the door Ferrac said, "I am glad that we managed to avoid bloodshed."

Coluber replied, "Your words were wise and righteous Brother, you reminded me of my true heart. I thank you for your advice."

Persion leaned forward and said, "I'll give one more piece of advice for free: change your Chapter's name and heraldry."

Coluber was taken aback at that and spat, "Do what?!"

Persion replied cooly, "The name of the Soul Drinkers is tainted, you know it will never be redeemed. You could fight for a thousand years but Terra would never accept you back, the only way to make this work is to be someone else. It's not like its unprecedented."

Stunned silence greeted that and even Persion's own squadmates looked befuddled, then Toran said, "Persion… what are you talking about?"

"Think about it," Persion explained, "Countless Chapters been declared extinct only to crop up again centuries later fully restored and many disgraced Chapters have mysteriously disappeared into the stars, never to be heard from again. The Minotaurs were once completely wiped out only to suddenly turn up at full strength millennia later. What was more likely, that they spent centuries patiently rebuilding in the darkness between stars or that someone else took up their name and fought under their banner?"

Everybody stood looking at him, mouths agape and Persion remarked, "Am I the only one who has noticed that?"

"It seems you are," Coluber said, "But this… it is too much to abandon our name."

Suddenly Ferrac interjected, "What does the name Soul Drinker represent save disgrace and infamy. Even those of us who held true have been dishonourable at times. Terra will never let the Soul Drinkers rise again, maybe it is time for a change."

"You agree with this madness?" Coluber asked in disbelief.

Ferrac replied, "You promised us a new start, a fresh page. The end to the old Chapter and its litany of mistakes you proclaimed. It is time to let go of the past and embrace a new future."

Coluber looked over his Marine's faces and saw that not one of them was protesting this idea. All of them had committed disgraceful acts to survive; all the Soul Drinkers were guilty of some Heresy or another. Strange as it was Coluber found that he truly did not care for the Soul Drinkers anymore, not for the marred traditions and tainted history at least. These were his Brothers and it was for them that he had fought, but now he could offer them a blank canvass to write a new history upon.

"You're right," Coluber stated, "The Soul Drinkers have been nothing but a byword for disgrace and failure. History decrees that they are dead and I am tired of arguing the point. It is time to let the Soul Drinkers fade away, now is the time for a new Chapter to be born, a better one."

Toran spoke up to say, "Then how shall you be known?"

Coluber blinked, having no idea how to reply to that. His eyes surveyed every face and he found no answer there, then his gaze dropped and he looked at Venom. He gazed at the amber jewel in the hilt and the snarling serpent head on the crossguard and suddenly the answer became obvious to him. Here in his hand was evidence of was who he truly was, whom he had always really been in his hearts. His spirit was encapsulated here in metal and stone and it was time his outer appearance reflected that reality.

Coluber looked up and he declared the self-evident truth, "The Soul Drinkers are dead, forevermore we shall be the Amber Vipers."