Fot T

Figured I might as well haul out the old shame one more time.
I'd posted this story (books 1 and 2 of 3 at any rate) on the old forums. Didn't get too much response past the beginning, but I'm hoping that's more down to me posting massive chapter-sized chunks at once and scaring people off rather than it generally sucking. I have also just made an executive decision to actually, finally, after many years of procrastination, try and write the elusive third part of the trilogy. Now if I could just figure out an actual storyline then I'm sure I'll be fine... Enjoy.
FALL OF THE TAU

The time has come for the Tau to master the darkness within their souls.
BOOK ONE
THE ISLAND
PROLOGUE "Trust not in appearances..." Imperial Commander Abriel Hume. *** "Prepare to breach lower cloud level in three, two, one, clear." The clouds parted as the two Orcas descended swiftly through the lower reaches of the world's atmosphere, soft light glinting off the moisture that had formed across their sleek black hulls. "Orca three-seven-five, adjust your angle of descent one-point-five degrees to aft." Gue'vesa'ui Alo'sha'is switched the display on her viewscreen. The second Orca was a matter of metres ahead of them. She turned to
Ol'he, her Tau co-pilot. "Wimps," she muttered quietly, before making the necessary adjustments to move them further away. Alo'sha'is sighed, despairing once again at the humourlessness of the pilots she had been partnered with, and looked back into the passenger compartment. Her heart almost skipped a beat when she saw Aun'el again, resplendent in his ornate armour as befitting a member of his Caste. The Gue'vesa of the Cadre were sat all around him. Alo'sha'is envied them. Almost every day they could be in the Aun's presence, whereas she would be lucky to have this duty once or twice a month. It spoke volumes of the way the world of Ya'monat viewed its Gue'vesa citizens that Aun'el had chosen to ride with them, rather than the Tau Fire Warrior teams in the second Orca. It would not be this way on any other planet of the Tau Empire, of that she was certain. She couldn't see their faces behind their helmets, but could still recognise a few of them nevertheless. Sat beside Aun'el always beside Aun'el was Gue'vesa'ui Ta'is; consistently calm, silent, and utterly loyal to his master, he was like an Honour Guard all by himself. Even so, despite his position, he had remained something of an outsider, even within his own team. Aside from Aun'el, the only person who had associated with him more than the barest minimum that their duties required was one of the Cadre's newest recruits, Lei'tan, whom Alo'sha'is could easily recognise sitting beside him despite the all-encompassing Fire Warrior armour. She turned back to face front once again, checking the various displays. They were only a few hundred metres above sea level, and continuing to drop rapidly. "Orca three-seven-four, adjust to lateral thrust on my mark," she said, nodding to Ol'he. She patched herself through to the passengers' comms. "It's showtime, boys and girls," she said, then suddenly remembered that she was also speaking to Aun'el, "brace for rapid high-G turn and deceleration. Touchdown in approximately forty seconds." Her fingers hovered over the craft's thruster controls. "Mark." There was that sudden jolt, slamming you back and down into your seat as the Orca entered into the last phase of its descent; a long, sweeping arc that would take it down, levelling out to skim the surface of the ocean towards their target. It felt so good that Alo'sha'is thought she was going to scream. "Twenty seconds," said Ol'he. The target was getting bigger all the time, growing to fill the forward viewscreen; a huge, green expanse rising from the waves. The Orca
homed in on the southern coastline, racing ahead of the storm that was rolling forwards slowly in their wake. Alo'sha'is guessed they would have to be done here by morning at the latest, otherwise the Shas might be stranded here for quite some time. "Ten seconds." The Gue'vesa reached for their pulse carbines. Alo'sha'is could see how tense some of them were the new recruits, most likely. The Orcas banked to the right, swinging around in a wide curve and rapidly decelerating to a near-halt, side-by-side on the golden sands. Coarse, dry sand blew up all around them as they glided slowly along the beach. Alo'sha'is counted down under her breath. "... three, two, one, clear." The rear hatch immediately swung open. The Gue'vesa were already on their feet and moving in an instant. Ta'is was the last out, following right behind Aun'el. His feet hadn't even touched the floor when Ol'he brought it back up behind him, and just like that they were accelerating again, the second Orca at their side. She took one last look at the Cadre as they sprinted up the beach and disappeared into the treeline, and felt a tiny stab of pity for them. That was not the life that Alo'sha'is could lead. It was in the skies that she belonged, where she could do her part for the Tau'va. In space, there was nothing to slow you down. "Good luck," she said, keeping the communications link to the Shas open for this final sign-off. "For the Tau'va."
-------------------"The Greater Good means nothing to you, and so you are nothing to me."
horizon
Posted: Aug 1 2010, 09:06 PM I remember this good story.
Light at the Horizon
Group: Writers to Ruin Posts: 275 Member No.: 18 Joined: 23-September 09
Gaius Marius
Posted: Aug 2 2010, 05:25 AM This isn't bad at all. Very good writing here.
-------------------My hand's upon a deadman's gun... 6 Time winner of the Tyranic seal of approval! I love you Gaius! Gaius fears nothing on land, for Gaius can slay anything! You're like the anti-aquaman! tongue.gif -Lord Lucan
Specter, Spartan II, Cowboy, Space Roman
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Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 2 2010, 06:25 PM CHAPTER ONE "It is not our technology that will enable us to prevail in this galaxy. It is our shared sense of honour and commonality of cause that unites us."
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Shas'el Sa'cea Or'es. ***
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The Cadre had halted some distance inland, in a clearing in the
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jungle marked out by a massive fallen tree. The advance so far had been tough for all. The sweltering heat and humidity combined with the extreme density of the jungle flora and its constantly swarming and biting natives could do more to sap one's strength than a month of artillery shelling. As the troops made themselves as comfortable as possible, Aun'el and the team leaders gathered together. "Proceed, Shas'ui," said Aun'el. N'sho hesitated briefly, and turned to the rest of the leaders. It felt strange giving orders to them, not least due to the fact that technically they were of the same rank. With the exception of Jonas, they had all been equals for so long, fought shoulder to shoulder on so many battlefields, that it was strange suddenly being the one in charge. "We will be proceeding due north for about ten kilometres. We'll reassemble there and launch the attack on the objective. Vekt has been here for several days now and will have already cleared the intervening area." The others nodded. Janghkor Vekt. That was going to make things a lot easier and no mistake. Everyone had heard about the Kroot Shaper's handiwork against the Gue'la on Medusa V, and the knowledge that he had their backs covered was comforting, if slightly disconcerting at the same time. His talents were accompanied by a somewhat chequered reputation. "Unless they're already dead," said Mon'suam, bitterly. "I still don't understand how you can be so sure of them, any of you." She gave Aun'el a look, but N'sho could tell that he had little sympathy for her views. "There are forty-nine of us here, Aun'el. We cannot place all of our lives in the hands of a bunch of degenerate Kroot." Mon'suam practically spat the last word. N'sho shook his head at Mon'suam's spiteful tone. They had all known since before planetfall that they would be working with Vekt's people on this mission. With some trepidation he waited for the inevitable response from Jonas. "Mon'suam, why don't you just shut up?" Gue'shas'vesa'ui Dal'yth Jonas Varris. The first-generation Gue'vesa, after only joining the Tau Empire on Medusa V three months previously and being fast-tracked to Ui rank by Aun'el, had such a refreshingly direct approach to the subject of Mon'suam's xenophobia. N'sho had always considered that to be slightly amusing, given his background in the Gue'la's armies. These days, though, Mon'suam had if anything been getting worse, and Jonas
would not help the situation like this, not in the long run. *** Away from the growing argument, Shas'la Elan'ka stood and watched with impatience. "He's in charge, why doesn't he act like it? I asked around, just after I was assigned to this Cadre. He built up a strong reputation on Medusa V for being strict, and decisive. What is he doing?" She had said it more to herself than to the other Shas'la sat nearby. Mon'suam and Jonas were just standing there arguing about something, and N'sho was just letting it happen. Elan'ka saw the look in her sister's eyes this could get out of hand. And how would that be for the Tau'va, exactly? It was infuriating, that's what it was. Perhaps if she were to tell him... no. No, she couldn't. Regardless though, Elan'ka knew that there were lots of ways to be a leader, but there was always one constant. To actually lead others. Assert some authority. Be decisive, and act without fear or hesitation. *** <<Shas training facility on Ya'monat, thirty seven days before Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> It was unseasonably cold on the training grounds this morning. Over on the next field the Gue'vesa seemed fine, but here the Shas'saal shivered as they stood at attention while Shas'ui B'cha approached. All of them had always experienced a slight twinge of fear at this point B'cha was a merciless instructor but today Elan'ka felt different. Looking around at her fellow Shas'saal, who were shivering from the cold or fear or both, she smiled briefly and turned to face front. She wasn't sure quite where the thought had come from, but it was then that it all became clear to her. Fear. That was his key to power. How he made everyone work twice as hard as they thought their bodies could manage, how he commanded their loyalty like one of the Aun. Elan'ka wondered about the things that could be accomplished with that kind of power, the way you could inspire others to great deeds in the name of the Empire. In that instant she realised her destiny, her purpose, as a part of the Tau'va. *** "You are in command here," conceded Mon'suam, as Aun'el smiled beside her. "I defer to your authority."
N'sho nodded. "Then that's settled." Mon'suam. So predictable. She did always kick up a fuss every time an alien was mentioned, but she was a good soldier. If it was for the Tau'va, it would be done, no matter what her own personal grievances. That was the power of the Tau'va to unite, to dispel all prejudices for the good of all. It was a comforting thought, and yet there was something about her lately. She was getting increasingly tense and even more hostile towards the xenos that were in service of the Tau'va. It was worrying, but there were more important things to think about for now. "Aun'el, if I may be so bold to ask, I am still confused about the relevance of this mission. You say the new Shas and Gue'vesa need to be broken in gently, but why here? What is the significance of this island? Heaven's Gate is not expected to present much resistance, so why not deploy them with the rest of the main force where they would no doubt benefit..." Aun'el's response was quick. "Do not concern yourself, Shas'ui," he said reassuringly, placing a hand on his arm. "All this has been considered, and the Shas'el is in agreement with me. I do not doubt that there will be plenty of time for some practical lessons in urban warfare once we relocate to Heaven's Gate, but for now I would have them gain some experience in jungle fighting whilst this war still gives them the chance to do so." N'sho said nothing, but simply nodded. "Get your people ready," said Aun'el. It certainly wasn't like him to take charge so directly like this whilst on a mission, N'sho thought, but just as quickly dismissed it. "We're moving out." They made good progress, in spite of the oppressive conditions of the jungle. Mon'suam's team had taken point, whilst Ta'is brought up the rear with Aun'el. They encountered no resistance. N'sho noticed a strange smell in the air. He recognised the distinct aroma of rotten flesh; Gue'la in all likelihood. Vekt had obviously been busy. Then the signal was passed down from up ahead, and quickly everyone homed in on the source. What they found was a horrific sight. In a small clearing was heaped a pile of Gue'la bodies. They were covered in blood it had not been a good death for them; they had been horribly mutilated almost beyond recognition. But that was not the worst part. All over crawled hundreds of bloated maggots, huge hairy flies and other grotesque eaters of the dead. Hideous, hairless rodents scattered into the trees at the Cadre's approach, their cheeks packed with rancid flesh. The whole thing reeked. Some of the Gue'vesa
staggered into the trees and vomited heavily. N'sho thought it would have been humorous if not for the sight before them. He stood awestruck. Not even in Sybilla Tertius had he seen such a sight. *** <<Medusa V, Edethor region, Sybilla Tertius slum district "The Labyrinth", forty three days before Final Evacuation>> It was night in Edethor, but in much of Sybilla Tertius it might as well have been day. The city had been burning for several days now. The Gue'la's war had reduced much of the place to rubble, and nowhere had seen fiercer fighting than the Labyrinth, the pestilent slums that extended beyond the western walls. One district however was mostly silent. No fires burned, and the streets were pitch-black, except for one dusty plaza. The Cadre stood silently in their rows, heads bowed toward the building before them. They had spent several hours filling the ruin with the Gue'la bodies they had found, and now waited as Gue'vesa'ui Alexus carried out the Imperial funerary rites. It was certainly a risky move, thought N'sho. The Cadre was awfully exposed like this, but Shas'el Doran'sha'is had insisted, at Alexus' request. The Gue'la had deserved some respect in death, especially after the way they had met their end. N'sho shuddered at the memory of how they had discovered the bodies, and then tried to forget it. Some of the more unruly Shas'la had protested angrily at this "waste" of time, and N'sho could see their point, but orders were orders. So, he had ordered the malcontents onto burial detail. Some real discipline should deal with the problem, although he had to admit he was worried. Such behaviour was all but unknown in the Shas and, he dared to admit, he feared it may be affecting him as well. *** He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, so turned and found himself face to face with Aun'el, who seemed completely unfazed by it all. "It looks like our Kroot friends have been busy, does it not?" he said. N'sho managed to gather himself together, and looked around at the others. Mon'suam was clearly disgusted, as was everyone else, but she seemed more angry than shocked.
"People of the Tau'va, I present to you the work of our honoured allies, the fine and majestic Kroot of Bayon!" Her bitterly sarcastic tones were largely ignored by the rest of the Cadre, although Gue'vesa'la Lei'tan obviously felt differently. The young girl was only three months out of the Academy, and likely knew little of Mon'suam's views. "Well, I guess they're on a diet," she said. This prompted a few nervous laughs from some of the others, but Mon'suam just scowled. N'sho assumed she was making some kind of daft joke, but it was then that he noticed it the bodies were whole. Aside from the work of the little natives, of course. Aun'el, seeming to read his thoughts, spoke up. "That is because, Gue'vesa'la, " he said, "Janghkor Vekt does not eat the flesh of the dead." What? N'sho felt the question ripple through the minds of the Cadre. "Don't be so quick to judge, Mon'suam," said Lei'tan. N'sho shook his head. Perhaps he ought to have a word with Lei'tan in private. Mon'suam was not one to take kindly to remarks like that from xenos. "That's Shas'ui to you, Gue'vesa. So why don't you be a nice little helper and not speak to me again?" Lei'tan turned to face her. "Yes, Shas'ui," she said firmly, resolutely holding her gaze, and with no hint of deference. "Enough, Gue'vesa'la," said N'sho. This wasn't going well. It would do good to let everyone relax a little, be good for morale. Conflict like this certainly wasn't helping. Lei'tan had been an interesting presence in the Cadre these past few months. At times she seemed like just another slightly nave Gue'vesa girl fresh from training on Ya'monat, but at others she seemed to have a certain edge to her that N'sho couldn't quite pin down just yet. She would merit watching over the next few hours. As for Mon'suam, well, she would never be happy so long as she had to fight alongside Gue'vesa, so at least there was no loss there. "Everybody," he announced. It would do them all good to cool down. Tempers could flare easily in this sweltering heat. "I suggest
we all take a few moments to rest." ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 3 2010, 07:33 PM What is N'sho doing? thought Elan'ka frustratedly. We don't have time for this. Agitated, she kicked idly at the ground, and took a swig of water from her canteen to try and cool down. N'sho's hesitation in getting to the mission objective wasn't the only problem here though.
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By the Tau'va she loved her older sister, but Elan'ka could never understand her. She needed to keep some control. That kind of anger didn't help anybody, and was only going to alienate her from her comrades. She had a mind to try and talk some sense into her. As it was, they decided to rest some distance away from the festering pile, in a small overgrown ruin a little ways northward. Gue'vesa'ui Jonas had taken up sentry duties with his team, whilst the rest sat around talking quietly in their small mixed groups. Mon'suam, as always, was having no part of it, and Elan'ka eventually found her away from the others, sat alone on a small rock. She looked up as Elan'ka approached, and smiled broadly. "Take a seat," she said, shuffling aside and motioning for Elan'ka to sit down next to her, which she did. They both sat in silence for a few moments, before Mon'suam finally spoke. "So," she said. "How are you finding your first assignment?" "Utterly tedious and uninspiring," replied Elan'ka. "What were you expecting me to say?" "Consider yourself lucky, little sister. My first few months as a Shas'la I spent on guard duty aboard a civilian vessel making the run between Ya'monat and Dal'yth Prime, before Aun'el noticed me and had me transferred to this Cadre. At least you're getting some real field experience." She nodded over towards where N'sho was sitting. "How's he treating you?"
Like a child, thought Elan'ka. She wasn't planning on deriding her Shas'ui in front of Mon'suam, but the look on her face gave her away. "Don't be so hasty to jump to conclusions about him," said Mon'suam. "I've served beside him for a long time. He's a fine soldier." "He just seems so... timid. He doesn't assert his authority at all. I mean, that business earlier between you and the Gue'vesa'ui?" "You mean Jonas? Look, the number of times I've had arguments with Gue'vesa, him especially... Look, N'sho knows me well enough to simply let things take their course." "Then he obviously doesn't know you well enough. Look, sister " Elan'ka hesitated, struggling with the words. "Something's different about you, ever since you returned from the campaign on Medusa V. I saw that look in your eyes when you were arguing if you two had been alone..." "You're imagining things," said Mon'suam quickly. "The jungle's getting to you." She stood up to leave, but Elan'ka grabbed her arm. She turned and looked down at her. "When we attack, and if any of the Gue'la should surrender, please don't do anything stupid. I heard about what happened last time." Mon'suam stopped, and seemed to consider the request for a moment. By the Tau'va, is this really the same person I've known for all these years? I know she's never been a xenophile, but since Medusa... "Okay, Elan'ka. But should anything happen to you, I will personally see to it that not one of them escapes retribution." There it was again, that fire in her eyes. Elan'ka knew that she meant it, and that there was nothing she could say to make her change her mind. "I hope you don't mean that," she said weakly. Mon'suam said nothing. She leant down to stroke Elan'ka lightly on the forehead, and then went to rejoin her team. ***
A short time later, they moved out once again. The sun had begun to dip more towards the horizon now, making the humid air cooler and less oppressive. N'sho checked his HUD they were close to the rendezvous point. Vekt's people would be around here somewhere. Meeting him would be an interesting experience for the new recruits and no mistake. Just behind him strode Elan'ka. She was an interesting Shas'la. Rather full of herself; overconfident. Recent graduates often felt that way, that they could conquer the galaxy by themselves. It happened to many, especially Gue'vesa, but eventually reality would bring you up short. There was a brief rustling of the foliage up ahead, and where before there was nothing now stood a Kroot warrior. He was quite tall, even for a member of his species, and about his person were hung dozens of small trinkets, no doubt recovered from the corpses of those foes he had slain. "Janghkor Vekt at your service," he said, bowing deeply. "You are late, incidentally." Hearing a Kroot speaking in such cultured tones was strange, almost amusing. Still, this was his second meeting with the Shaper, so he was prepared for his oddities. "Greetings," he said, calmly. "I trust your mission was a success?" "Come this way, Shas'ui. All is ready for the attack." *** The Cadre followed N'sho and Vekt further through the undergrowth. They were joined by more Kroot who seemed to simply materialise out of the bushes. Elan'ka turned and whispered to the Shas'la to her left. "Now he's taking orders from the Kroot. This isn't a democracy, this is the Shas." The Shas'la said nothing, but just nodded. Elan'ka recognised her from the Academy they had been in the same class but had completely forgotten her name. They'd all just been faces in the crowd. "You shouldn't be talking like that," replied the Shas'la. "He's our Shas'ui, and we owe him our loyalty. For the Tau'va."
Another of the new recruits had obviously overheard, and had moved up to Elan'ka's right. "What are you planning on doing? Remember, he was on Medusa V. You think you can outdo Shas'ui N'sho? " "Who knows? But you all remember the Academy." The Shas'la nodded. They remembered. *** <<Shas training facility on Ya'monat, twelve days before Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> "Any volunteers?" shouted B'cha. The ranks of Shas'saal were silent. Elan'ka took a breath, and took one step forwards. This was her chance. Her chance to prove herself as worthy of serving the Tau'va, and of leading others to do so. B'cha marched over quickly, and stood in front of her for a few moments, seeming to consider her for a few moments. "So," he said at last, with a booming voice that almost made Elan'ka jump with shock. "You think you've got what it takes to take me on?" She said nothing, and just nodded, never breaking eye contact. He stared at her for a few moments more, and then turned to look at the rest of the Shas'saal. "Shas'saal Elan'ka here thinks she's up to the task! Very well, you lot," he gestured to half of the Shas'saal, "you're under her command as of now, the rest of you you're with me. The exercise begins in one hour. Fall out!" Elan'ka turned to leave with the others, but B'cha grabbed her arm. "Not you, Shas'saal." He spoke quietly, yet firmly. "I know your type, Shas'saal. There's at least one like you through here every year. Way too cocky by half, thinking they can do anything. Some of them are right, most are wrong. I won't pretend to know which kind you are yet, but we'll find out soon enough." "Understood," she replied, calmly.
"Then get out of my sight. You've got work to do." A little later, Elan'ka was considering her situation. Over half of her troops had been taken out, and B'cha had what was left pretty much surrounded. There weren't many options left. We've lost, thought Elan'ka, despairing. I've lost. This was my chance, and now it's gone. Her last dozen or so Shas'saal were stood around her, expectantly looking to her for orders. "Elan'ka?" asked one of them. "What now?" She raised her head, and looked at him. It was then that she realised she hadn't failed. Even now, with everything almost lost, they still looked to her for authority. She was a leader. She didn't know where the thoughts came from, but all of a sudden she found herself feeling incredibly calm. Everything seemed to focus, and now despite the apparent hopelessness of their situation, Elan'ka thought she could see a way through. How had she not seen it? It was as if someone had whispered some secret of the Shas'ar'tol's to her. "Right," she said. "I think I may have a plan." ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 4 2010, 11:51 PM Vekt led them onwards, up and onto a ridge thick with foliage, where they stopped and looked out onto a truly fantastic view. From here, you could see out across half the island. From above the jungle appeared beautiful; a riot of primary colours stretching away for kilometres in every direction. In the distance, the sea glittered with the light of the setting sun. It was breathtaking. N'sho now understood why the Gue'la called this place a garden world. But they weren't here to sightsee. Looking down the other side of the ridge, N'sho could clearly see the objective. Two concentric trench lines lined with razor wire circled around a small central bunker with an attached pillbox, the entrance to the underground
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installation. He could make out twenty or so Gue'la loitering around. They were clearly not expecting an attack. "We could have quite easily dispatched them ourselves, you know," said Vekt. "The rest of their people left just under a hour ago, heading north-west. Storm Troopers, to judge from the look of them. I have sent three of my children to keep watch over them. Those poor fellows down there as well as another ten or so inside are all they left behind to defend the place." N'sho nodded, and turned once again to look down on the enemy position. He suddenly noticed out of the corner of his eye that Vekt's expression had changed, and his eyes seemed to glaze over. N'sho had known enough Kroot in his time to realise when one was in distress. Vekt was not well at all. "Ah, Shaper." Approaching them was Aun'el, with Ta'is and his team in tow. Vekt had gone pale, and was a little unsteady on his feet. "I hope we find you in good health," said Aun'el, oblivious to the irony. "Get away," said Vekt, weakly. "Get away from me, whatever you are." As Vekt stumbled away into the bushes N'sho turned, confused, to Aun'el. "What is the situation, Shas'ui?" asked Aun'el casually, unmoved by Vekt's display. "We are ready, Aun'el," replied N'sho, composing himself. "This should be simple enough. The Gue'la are in no position to resist us. They have less than thirty poorly armed troops down there, and they don't look like they're expecting us." *** As the team leaders stood around discussing plans for the attack, Elan'ka was sat some ways off with the rest of N'sho's new Shas'la. "So we're all agreed?" she said. "That sounds like treason, Elan'ka." "Look, he's not a bad Tau, I know. But this is what is best for the Tau'va. Believe me, you don't know how important it is that we do this. Some are born to lead, and he's not one of them, and he isn't
going to do what needs to be done." The other Shas'la exchanged glances, a look of uncertainty on their faces. They were proving difficult to crack, that was for sure. They didn't fully understand what was at stake here. What was needed was someone decisive, someone with some natural authority to keep everyone in line, and do whatever needed to be done. Someone like Elan'ka. It occurred to her that she was possibly being arrogant, perhaps the idea of power had gotten to her, but she put it out of her mind. This wasn't about her. It was about what was for the Tau'va. "Look," she said. She was a little weary of this, but hoped that she wasn't conveying that feeling to the others. "I have never let any of you down before. That day back in the Academy, when you all thought things were hopeless, who brought you out of it? I can do this. I have seen it." They all nodded, a little uncertainly, but Elan'ka knew that they would all follow her now. And soon, everyone else would know it as well. After all, she thought. It's for the Tau'va. It's all for the Tau'va. *** Shortly, the Cadre was assembled before Shas'ui N'sho. "Form up," said N'sho. "We're going in. Now you all know the plan Vekt goes in first on the right, Ta'is and Jonas follow up down the left flank, and Mon'suam provides cover from the rear. I'm taking my team down the centre. Good luck everyone. For the Tau'va." This is it, he thought, as the assembled Cadre moved off. No matter how many times you went into battle, you always got that feeling of anxiety, with a touch of fear. It got better over time, of course, far better than the first time at any rate. "How are you all doing?" he asked, turning to his team. "I know it's tough. It's natural to be scared at this stage. Just stick with me, remember your training, and you'll be fine, especially with what we're facing here today." There was a chorus of half-hearted "yessir"s from the team, but it was Elan'ka who caught N'sho's eye. She seemed a little off a little anxious, of course, but it wasn't really fear. "Everything okay, Shas'la?" Elan'ka nodded back, her face a closed book.
"Don't do anything stupid, okay?" said N'sho, warily. Something wasn't right here, but there was no time to worry about that now. "Everyone's counting on you to do your part for the Tau'va. All of you." *** More than you know, thought Elan'ka. You'll see. With a final meaningful glance at Elan'ka, N'sho turned and walked off towards where Vekt was waiting with his people. Well, he's being a little more authoritative at least, thought Elan'ka. And he's not entirely stupid. But that's not enough. Not for this. "Good luck, sister." Elan'ka had her head in the clouds. She hadn't even noticed Mon'suam approach and sit down right next to her. "Sister?" "Sorry," replied Elan'ka. "Just anxious to get on with things." "I know, I know. Just try and calm yourself." There was a pause. Something was being left unsaid. "Sister, you know about... what you said before?" "I meant it. Every word." Elan'ka nodded, unsure how to respond to that. "Stick with N'sho. I know you don't think much of him, but in the crunch he'll come through for you. Don't worry." Elan'ka chose her words carefully. "I'll do what's best for the Tau'va. That I can promise. What about you?" "Me? I've done missions far worse than this a hundred times, I'm fine. I'm not sure about that Kroot though. Did you see the way it was when it saw Aun'el? It looked as if it was going to pass out. I have a very bad feeling about this." They both seemed to consider this for a moment, nodding in agreement. "But I'm sure everything will be fine," she continued, a little more jovially. She stood up. "Even a stinking Kroot shouldn't be able to mess up something as simple as this. Just don't do anything stupid,
little sister. Okay?" She smiled broadly, and walked off to join her team. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 5 2010, 11:22 PM It was now twilight, and the jungle around the Imperial position was dark. N'sho looked around. Vekt's Kroot were ready to strike. Mon'suam's Fire Warriors had taken up excellent firing positions in some rocks. Before them, lounging around the trenches, were twenty or so lightly armoured Guardsmen carrying autoguns. They were passing bottles around, and some of them seemed intoxicated. Not one of them looked much older than 17 years. From here, it was also possible to get a better look at the bunker. It was little more than a metal door leading down to the underground complex of tunnels that made up the installation. Attached to it however was a formidable-looking pillbox, with the barrels of two heavy stubbers protruding from a barely visible firing slit. The two manning it would have to be taken out quickly. Crouched with his team in the bushes, N'sho checked his HUD. It was almost time. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Zero... N'sho barely heard the Kroot as they leapt into action, covering the distance between themselves and the first trench in a heartbeat. They leapt down amongst the defenders before they even noticed they were there and began swinging their bladed rifles, slaughtering everyone they encountered. The screams of the unfortunate Gue'la were horrifying.
Walk-on Character
What are they doing? thought N'sho in frustration. They were supposed to go straight for the pillbox! As the defenders began to realise what was going on and reached, a little unsteadily, for their weapons, Jonas and Ta'is struck, charging from the bushes and across the open ground, firing from the hip until they reached the second trench where they drew their combat knives and jumped down. There were a handful of Gue'la to meet them, and N'sho could just make out their brief screams above the din of gunfire. The noise was deafening after the silence just moments before. Mon'suam's team had opened fire just as the Gue'vesa began their attack and had cut down all of the defenders who remained in the open. Now it was time. N'sho's team stood as one and ran forwards; leaping the first trench and dropping into the second just as the pillbox finally came online. One unfortunate Shas'la took a round in the neck as he descended. His head popped off like a cork, spraying the rest of the team with blood as his body fell down amongst the other Fire Warriors. On the right, the Kroot had finished with their opponents and had just begun to run towards the pillbox. They were fast, but not fast enough. Four of them were quickly cut to ribbons by the hail of fire that greeted them. The rest turned and hastily dropped into the second trench. The whole thing had taken less than twenty seconds. It would have been a complete success but for that pillbox. What had Vekt been thinking? They crouched quietly for a few moments, before Elan'ka eventually spoke up. "Now what?" "Be patient, Shas'la," replied N'sho calmly. In truth, he was just as annoyed as she clearly was. That damned pillbox. Vekt should have been on it straight away, not wasting time dancing with the Gue'la. But it was okay there was always a backup plan. "There's no need to be hasty. All we need to do is wait for..." His voice was abruptly cut off as Elan'ka swung her rifle round, striking him full in the face of his helmet. He staggered back and fell against the trench wall, and she brought the weapon up over her head, slamming it straight down on his neck. He reached his hand out towards her weakly. What are you doing? he thought, as he slipped into unconsciousness. *** Elan'ka leant down over the prone form of the Shas'ui. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "It's for the Tau'va."
She turned to the others. Even with their helmets on she could tell they were all stunned. Right, she thought. No turning back now. This is it. Don't give them time to react, or you're in more trouble than you can imagine and this will all be for nothing. "COVERING FIRE!" she shouted into her comm, as she quickly climbed up and out of the trench. She quickly glanced back at the four Shas'la who had followed her, and felt the greatest feeling of pride and joy she had ever experienced. This is how she would serve the Tau'va. All hell broke loose. From behind her came the sound of gunfire as Mon'suam's team opened fire, and almost at the same time the heavy stubbers unloaded on Elan'ka's little team. Their fire wasn't particularly accurate evidently the gunners were just as intoxicated as the rest of them but one of the Shas'la was struck in the shoulder. The shot glanced off her armour, but the force of it spun her round and she fell to the ground before both guns then peppered her with fire. Another Shas'la froze in her tracks. The guns aimed and fired again, cutting her to pieces. It was all the distraction Elan'ka needed, however, as she was now just yards away. She swung her rifle up into her shoulder and took careful aim before firing two shots at the pillbox as the guns swung round towards her. At that range, both rounds disappeared through the centimetres-wide slit and there was the briefest of screams. The guns remained silent. Inside, she felt elated. It had worked! She realised briefly that her plan had resulted in the deaths of two Shas'la and felt a brief pang of guilt, but quickly shook it off. It was for the Tau'va, and sometimes sacrifice was necessary. Elan'ka got to her feet. The other two Shas'la were still there with her, and there was still more work to be done. She ran to the door, pulled it open a little surprised that it was unlocked, and disappeared inside. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 7 2010, 01:35 AM N'sho opened his eyes carefully. His neck ached. He was being shaken by a Shas'la who was shouting something at him. Then he remembered. Elan'ka. Why? In spite of all he had done, how he had done things differently, it looked like it was going to happen again. The memories flooded back, and he jerked fully awake and jumped to his feet, grabbing his rifle.
Walk-on Character
"Everybody, on me!" he shouted, climbing out of the trench. He saw that Aun'el had already started to follow Elan'ka and had just disappeared into the bunker. He was fast Ta'is and the rest of the team were well behind him. And so N'sho followed as well, reaching the door just after Ta'is. They shared a look and peered inside. A flight of concrete steps descended for about ten metres, illuminated by several white strip lights along the sloping ceiling. At the bottom he could make out a body. It was a Fire Warrior. The sound of gunfire, both Tau and Imperial, echoed back up towards them. Ta'is led the way, taking the steps three at a time, almost tripping over at the bottom. He ignored the prone Shas'la and ran on, accelerating away from N'sho. They passed more bodies several Gue'la and one Shas'la lying on the ground. They were clearly dead. N'sho felt the panic rising. Not again. Oh please, not again. As the sounds of sporadic gunfire ceased there could be heard a screaming Gue'la somewhere down the passage. As N'sho ran on it became louder and louder, more agonised, more terrified. There were suddenly two sharp noises above it all a pulse weapon, N'sho recognised, followed quickly by an Imperial autopistol then another, higher pitched scream and then silence. As he rounded a corner in the winding corridor, almost running right into Ta'is's back, he found Aun'el and Elan'ka, and in that instant N'sho knew he had failed once again. Sat against the wall opposite an open door was Elan'ka. Aun'el was crouched over her, and had his hands around her neck. Blood seeped between his fingers and from her mouth, and she was breathing in deep, exaggerated movements, coughing up blood with every breath. Aun'el looked up. "Ta'is, get a medic. Now!" Ta'is nodded and ran off without a word, but N'sho could tell with a sickening feeling that it was too late for her.
"What happened?" he asked. "Bullet in the neck. Autopistol." Hearing his voice, Elan'ka turned her head a little to face N'sho, a look of desperation in her eyes. It seemed to him as if she was struggling to say something, but moments later her breathing began to slow, and she went still. Aun'el waited for a few seconds then took his hands away, revealing the hideous wound in her neck. Autopistol, thought N'sho. All our technology, all our training, all our strength, yet still we fall to tiny, primitive weapons such as this. Aun'el stood up, brushing his bloody hands briskly on his thighs and turning to face N'sho. "I'm sorry, Shas'ui," he said softly. "I wish I could have been faster, perhaps this need not have happened. But don't blame yourself. N'sho?" But N'sho wasn't listening. He was still staring at Elan'ka, who in death was still blankly meeting his gaze. All he could think was that he had failed. Again. Despite all he had done to change things, he had failed Elan'ka and the others, and that was that. *** <<Medusa V, Edethor region, outskirts of Sybilla Tertius Hive, three days before Final Evacuation>> Overhead, the skies of Medusa V boiled crimson and the clouds writhed and twisted into horrific forms. But it didn't bother N'sho, for beyond, he knew, waited the Tau fleet and their ticket off this hellhole once and for all. They would have to get out soon, and they all knew it in just a few days at most, Medusa V would die. But they couldn't worry about that now. Now, they had to escape from this wretched city of death. For days Sybilla Tertius had burned as the Gue'la fought their terrible battle. Now, in the dying days of this war, the Imperials launched a devastating counteroffensive into the heart of the city, and several outlying sectors had been left weakened. It should have been a golden opportunity to escape, but fortune had not looked kindly upon the Tau of Ya'monat. Blocking their escape now was the entire remaining strength of the Cadian XIX regiment, persistent foes since the moment the Cadre made planetfall. Time and time again the Cadre had inflicted crippling casualties on them, but now somehow they had hunted them down. They were here for vengeance. N'sho knew that this was a fight to the death, and that it would take all their strength, training and discipline to survive this
day. For something like this, he would need to be strong, decisive, and he would need the Shas'la's absolute loyalty. They would need to know their place, or they might all be killed. He just hoped they would all be able to do their duty. The battle was devastating. The Cadre, heavily outnumbered, was attacked time and time again by the heavily armed XIX. Each time they were beaten off after having taken appalling casualties, but each time a little more of the Tau's strength was sapped. After about two hours of this, Shas'el Doran'sha'is could see that the Gue'la were faltering, and ordered the last, desperate push to try and break through to the relative safety of the ash wastes of Edethor, and ultimately the evacuation zones on the Charybdis Crest. It was decided that the Fire Warriors would spearhead the assault, and so it was that Mon'suam and N'sho's teams boarded their Devilfish transports and prepared themselves for the firefight to come. And yet, there was one dissenter in N'sho's team. Many breakdowns in discipline had been reported over recent days; a good number from this one. "This is suicide. Suicide! You're going to get us all killed, and what will we be achieving?" screamed the Shas'la. N'sho stopped and stared at him for a few moments longer than was strictly necessary. Then he calmly leant forwards in his seat as the Devilfish lifted off and moved out. "So you'd rather stay here then, would you, Shas'la?" he said. "There is another force of Gue'la moving up behind us. We have to strike now or we are dead for certain. Yes, we may die, but if we do..." He paused for a moment. "If we do, we'll have died doing our duty. Our duty, Shas'la, to the Tau'va. Perhaps you should really think about that when we get out of here, and until then do as you're damn well told!" N'sho leaned back in his seat. He didn't know where the anger in him had come from, but it seemed to have had an effect. The Shas'la made no reply. And so they sped off across the battlefield. A fog had descended, and there was a perpetual rain of ash and soot from the burning hive. Visibility was poor, limited to only about thirty metres or so, and the shifting grey murk twisted and writhed into the strangest of shapes. So it was that when they pulled up in front of the Gue'la's lines they took them completely by surprise. They were already faltering, and the sight of two armoured vehicles speeding out of the murk was too much for them and they turned and fled as the Fire Warriors jumped down and dashed forwards to fire. Dozens
were cut down in the opening volleys, and for a moment it seemed as if the Tau would easily be victorious. This was what it was all about, thought N'sho. That moment of victory. The knowledge that you had survived, and done a great service to the Tau'va. But then, above all the sounds of gunfire and shouting, N'sho heard with a sinking feeling a deep rumbling sound coming from ahead. Sure enough, moments later, two hulking Gue'la battle tanks loomed out of the fog, bearing straight down on the Fire Warriors. The enemy infantry had begun to regroup around them and had turned to advance once again. In a heartbeat, victory had been snatched cruelly away. N'sho turned. There was no sign of the rest of the Cadre. "Everyone, take cover NOW!" But then one of the tanks fired its battle cannon, striking the flank of one of the Devilfish. The explosion blew off the left engine, and with a crash the vehicle spun and hit the ground. N'sho watched as Shas'la Run'ya quickly bailed out before the second tank fired, and the Devilfish was consumed in a massive ball of fire and shrapnel. "Now what?" screamed an angry voice, over the noise. N'sho didn't even bother looking to see who it was. He knew. "Now we hold until the rest of the Cadre gets here. They'll only be a few seconds! Keep your head down or I'll do it for you! And keep firing!" This was not the time for any kind of dissent. He had a mind to... He was jerked from his thoughts by the crack of a pulse rifle smacking into the back of his head. He fell forwards into the rubble, dazed and angry. He turned his head carefully, wincing at the pain, and saw five Fire Warriors running away into the fog. No, he thought. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Moments later, there were two brief flashes and the Gue'la tanks were blown to pieces, showering the surrounding Gue'la with burning shrapnel. Three battlesuits dropped down in front of the Fire Warriors, and N'sho could hear more forces moving up on the left. The Cadre was here, and it was now game over for the Gue'la. The infantry lost whatever courage they had left and fled. A few days later, Medusa V died. N'sho was sat on his bunk in the ship's hold, oblivious to the crowds milling all around, completing his unit's final combat report. Next to five names he found himself writing "missing in action". It was in that moment that he knew things would have to be different from now on. No matter how much what had happened was the fault of this haunted world, there
was more he should have done. He would have to be different. This could never happen again. *** He finally tore his eyes away from Elan'ka's body and looked around into the open doorway opposite. It was a small room, with no furniture besides a single low bunk on the opposite wall. Laid upon it was a Gue'la male, somewhat older than the others they had faced, curled up in a foetal position. He was weeping softly and nursing a bloody, broken hand. He was covered in dust, and behind in the concrete wall was a black hole. N'sho recognised a pulse weapon impact when he saw one. A heavy chain was attached to one ankle, which was in turn bolted to the wall next to the bed. This man was a prisoner. On the floor a few yards away was a discarded autopistol. The same one that had killed Elan'ka, N'sho realised. He suddenly felt a fountain of fury welling up inside him, but took a deep breath and fought it back. He wasn't going to be that weak, wasn't going to succumb to rage that easily. That way lay the Mont'au, and no matter what happened, no matter how bad things ever got, N'sho would never go down that road. Never. He bent down to pick up the weapon, and then turned and made for the exit. He needed some air. He kept his head lowered as he passed the other figures along the passage, and spoke to nobody. As he reached the stairs and felt the pleasant warm breeze from outside wash over him, he heard a frantic voice from above. "N'sho! Where is she? That was her, wasn't it?" He looked up. It was Mon'suam.
Gaius Marius
Posted: Aug 9 2010, 11:49 PM
Very well written stuff Kasrkin, great dialogue and action.
-------------------My hand's upon a deadman's gun... 6 Time winner of the Tyranic seal of approval! I love you Gaius! Gaius fears nothing on land, for Gaius can slay anything! You're like the anti-aquaman! tongue.gif -Lord Lucan
Specter, Spartan II, Cowboy, Space Roman
Group: Vanilla Marines Posts: 647 Member No.: 53 Joined: 30-November 09
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 11 2010, 12:20 AM CHAPTER TWO "They have seen more death and ruin than another soldier sees in ten lifetimes." General Sejanus.
Walk-on Character
*** "N'sho! Where is she? That was her, wasn't it?" Mon'suam sprinted down the concrete stairs, her heart full of pride. Elan'ka! It must have been her who rushed that pillbox N'sho would never do something as crazy as that, especially lately. Mon'suam knew that there would be hell to pay later Elan'ka had blatantly disobeyed orders, no question there but for now she had done a great deed for the Tau'va, and everyone would remember her. They would remember her as the one who saved things after, hah, after the Kroot almost ruined everything. She reached the bottom of the stairs. N'sho looked somewhat downhearted, but it took a few moments to register in Mon'suam's mind that something really wasn't right. "N'sho? What's wrong? What happened?"
He raised his head to look her clearly in the eye, and the expression on his face now told her the story. She turned to look at the others who were milling around the corridor, all desperately trying to avoid her gaze, and quickly felt the fear rising up. A look of panic crossed her face and she looked back at N'sho. "N'sho, what happened?" He was struggling to speak, and eventually said only two words: "I'm sorry." It was all Mon'suam needed to hear, and she took off at a run down the corridor. Shas and Gue'vesa flattened themselves against the wall to avoid her. No, no, no, no, no the words echoed again and again in her mind. It couldn't be true. She was going to find her sister, and they were going to embrace, and she was going to congratulate her on her first victory, and they were going to get out of this place together, and... She rounded the corner and skidded to a halt, where she saw Elan'ka, slumped against the wall. A Shas was leaned over her a medic but it was clear that she was dead. Everything else suddenly phased itself out of her view. She heard voices, but they seemed distant, pointless, irrelevant. A hand fell on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off impatiently. Tears welled up in her eyes and she fell to her knees next to her sister, hugged her tightly, and screamed. *** Gue'vesa'la Lei'tan stood nearby, watching this awful scene play out. Nobody knew what to say. Usually Lei'tan was never lost for words, but now even she found herself speechless. She remembered earlier in the jungle, and quickly regretted mocking Mon'suam. Sometimes it was better to just shut up now was certainly one of those times. Once Mon'suam got over the shock someone was going to be made to pay, and no one was going to want to be in the firing line when it happened. Eventually Aun'el leant down and gently took Mon'suam by the shoulder. She resisted at first, and clung to her sister tighter than ever, but eventually the will of the Aun brought her out of it, and she let go. Lei'tan could see the tears streaming down her face. She was covered in blood. ***
Mon'suam felt the Aun's touch on her shoulder, and gradually the anguish began to subside. She leant back, taking one last look at her sister's body before standing up, a little unsteadily. It was only now that she noticed the open doorway behind Aun'el. There was a Gue'la in there, lying on a bunk on the far wall. The feelings of loss and sadness evaporated in a heartbeat, and Mon'suam was quickly filled with a deep rage. She reached for her combat knife in a flash, and was already moving forwards before a pair of hands grabbed her and slammed her back up against the doorframe. She struggled, keeping her eyes fixed on the Gue'la on the bed, but her assailant's grip was strong. She turned, and looked into their face. It was that young girl Lei'tan. Another damned Gue'la. Who was she to deny Mon'suam what she was owed; her vengeance? *** <<Medusa V, Edethor region, three kilometres north-east of Sybilla Tertius Hive, three days before Final Evacuation>> And so they had made it. The blockade had been broken, and Sybilla Tertius had been put behind them for the last time. The fog was still thick, but in the distance Mon'suam could just about make out the unmistakeable shape of the Charybdis Crest against the sky. Now they were going home, but it was not joy or relief that Mon'suam felt. Most of the Cadian XIX had been wiped out, although a few had managed to flee. However, this did not concern Mon'suam. What did concern her was the handful that had surrendered. There were only four of them, currently lined up in front of Shas'el Doran'sha'is, each with a pulse weapon to their backs. Mon'suam couldn't hear her words they were over three kilometres out of the city now and still the din of battle could be heard clearly. Still, she didn't need to. Doran'sha'is was a fine commander, but she was altogether too lenient with prisoners. The cowards had thrown down their weapons and surrendered as soon as the Tau had come into view and now they stood, barely able to conceal their smugness and glee at hearing the Shas'el's words, speaking of "sanctuary" and their chance of a new life as part of the Tau'va. It was sickening to watch, but she knew the Shas'el wasn't to blame she didn't know any better. Hopefully she and no other Tau never would. She waited until Doran'sha'is had finished her little speech. The crowd around the prisoners dispersed, leaving the four of them sat bound cross-legged in a small circle guarded by a Shas'la. "Shas'la, stand down," she said to him. "I'll take care of this. Go
and get some rations; you probably need it." The Shas'la nodded and saluted, before trotting off in the direction of the nearest Devilfish. Mon'suam turned to the prisoners, and cast her eye over each of their faces before coming to focus on the man in a squad leader's stripes. "What is this?" he said. "You're not trying the old good interrogator, bad interrogator trick are you?" Mon'suam said nothing. She thought nothing. She simply raised the pulse rifle slowly to point at the man's head. "Look, wait just a minute you damned xeno," he said frustratedly. "We were promised sanctuary. By your commander." He seemed to regain his composure at this thought and grinned smugly. "That means you touch us, you're in some serious trouble. I know about you Tau bunch of women, the lot of you. Don't have the balls to finish us. But that suits us just fine, doesn't it lads?" "Yes, sergeant Kell," chorused the others. "Gives us a nice warm cell and some hot food to look forward to at any rate!" Kell went on, chuckling a little. Mon'suam wasn't really listening, but she had heard enough. She reached up and lifted off her helmet, revealing the huge scar down the left side of her face. After a moment the laughter stopped and the grin faded. "No," he said softly. "Wait..." And with that, Mon'suam swung her pulse rifle up and fired straight into Kell's face. His head disappeared. She then quickly turned and fired again three times at the others before they had a chance to react, then dropped the weapon and walked away into the fog without a word. *** Afterwards Mon'suam wouldn't quite remember exactly what she was thinking at that point, whether she would have brought the knife up into Lei'tan's body, cut her down and then finished her business with the other Gue'la. It was just blind fury. All she could remember clearly was the calming voice that whispered gently in her ear. "No, Shas'ui," said Aun'el, so quietly that perhaps only Mon'suam could hear him. "That is not the way. You know where that leads."
Perhaps it was the tone of voice, perhaps it was simply the fact that it was spoken by an Aun, it didn't matter. What did matter was that when Aun'el reached to take the knife, Mon'suam did not resist. When Lei'tan loosened her grip, Mon'suam did not strike her, did not run into the room and beat the other Gue'la to a pulp. She merely turned to Aun'el, and allowed him to place his arm around her shoulder. Before they walked away together down the corridor, Aun'el turned his head briefly. "Ta'is, watch the prisoner," he said. And then they left. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 11 2010, 08:49 PM Lei'tan stood stock still where she was for a few moments watching Mon'suam leave with the Aun, before Jonas' booming voice brought her out of it. "Kid, what the hell were you thinking?"
Walk-on Character
She turned towards him, and spoke calmly. "I couldn't let her do it." "Why not? Maybe he deserved it. Plus, she'll have her eye on you now, just you wait." "That doesn't matter. You don't kill prisoners. You just don't." Jonas smiled broadly. "Principals, eh, kid? Well, that's good to see. Don't expect them to last long in a warzone though. You'll see eventually." Lei'tan nodded. But so what? Perhaps she was being naive, but there were some things she would never do. Never. It wasn't about having principals, it was something much deeper than that. "That's the kind of attitude you get for not being raised in the Tau'va, old man." "Perhaps, but age brings wisdom, kid. Remember that." She merely nodded absently, but then noticed Gue'vesa'ui Ta'is standing silently at the edge of the group, watching the prisoner
through the open door. "Anyway," said Jonas, "I guess we'd better be dealing with this lot at some point." He gestured to the bodies that lay slumped on the floor. "I think I spied a cold room down there, let's get to work. Can't have these poor bastards cluttering up the place, it's unhygienic." As the others began to deal with the bodies, Lei'tan went to the door and looked inside. On the concrete floor were some rough marks coloured chalk, it looked like. Someone had recently tried to rub them out, but they hadn't done a particularly good job and a few distorted, odd-looking symbols could just about be made out. What they meant, Lei'tan had no idea. However, her gaze was drawn most of all to the prisoner himself. He was still lying down, mumbling something that Lei'tan couldn't quite make out, while he nursed his bloody hand. They would need to get a medic on that, thought Lei'tan. No matter what he had done, he was a prisoner of the Tau Empire now and would be treated with respect. As she continued to stand there in silence for a few moments, just staring blankly at the prisoner, something began to stir in the back of her mind. She began to get a strange sense of familiarity, of deja vu. Have I met this man before? No, that was impossible; she'd never even been off Ya'monat until recently. It was a different kind of familiarity, almost like something out of a dream. She tried to bury the thought, and shivered. Suddenly it had gone very cold. Without thinking, almost instinctively, she shuffled over closer to Ta'is. It didn't take long to clear away the bodies. Afterwards, most of the Cadre went outside to brave the insects and enjoy the night air. It seemed to Lei'tan that nobody wanted to be down in that bunker for long, whether it was due to the smell of Gue'la and Tau blood, or simply the cold clamminess that quickly penetrated right to the bone. As it was only Aun'el, N'sho, Mon'suam and Ta'is remained downstairs. Lei'tan found Jonas sat silently with a few other Shas'la and Gue'vesa on the edge of one of the trenches. Jonas seemed to have found a bottle of something, and was quaffing from it heartily, spilling a fair amount of it down his beard. He noticed her and waved her over. "Hey kid, why don't you take a seat?" Jonas spoke in Low Gothic a strange language, with little uniformity from one Gue'la world to the next, but the nuances were easy enough to learn with a little effort. More effort than Jonas had made to learn Tau'sia, at any rate.
A couple of the Shas'la opposite shuffled aside to make room and Lei'tan sat down, letting her legs dangle over the edge of the trench. Jonas leaned forwards and handed the bottle over to her. "Wildsnake, kid? It's good for you. Rots your brain. Grunts like us shouldn't be thinking too much." "No thank you, old man," she replied, with as much good humour as she could manage. Alcohol. Gue'vesa'ui Jonas did have his strange ways, no doubt about it. Jonas took another swig from the bottle. "So, how've you taken your first taste of combat?" "What does it matter what we think, old man?" responded Lei'tan. "We fight when and where we must. We're servants of the Tau'va." Jonas took another swig and grinned at her. "You really have been paying far too much attention at the academy, kid. I can tell I'm going to have to keep an eye on you, give you a little education." Here it comes, thought Lei'tan. She'd been waiting for this. "Of course, that'd have been a lot easier, kid, if you hadn't asked for that transfer out of my team after just three days." There was an awkward silence for a few moments. "I meant no disrespect, Gue'vesa'ui," she eventually replied. Hopefully Jonas wasn't one to hold grudges about this sort of thing. "Don't worry about it, kid," he said, smiling. "I'm sure you had your reasons. And don't feel like you have to explain yourself to me. Hell, we've all got our little secrets. Still, I can't imagine why you'd want to be in with that Ta'is. He gives me the willies." There were a few nods amongst the group, mostly from the other Gue'vesa. Even a few from Ta'is' team were agreeing. How blind they all were. They didn't understand. Hopefully they never would understand. Still, a few months ago Lei'tan would have felt the same about Ta'is, but that was before her eyes were finally opened. *** <<Shas training facility on Ya'monat, eleven days before Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> It had been a hard training session today. Apparently yesterday some cocky Shas'saal had upstaged her Shas'ui in a wargame, so all the instructors were being exceptionally hard on their charges to make up for it. It seemed to Lei'tan that the main prerequisite for
an instructor was a complete lack of a sense of humour. Lei'tan wiped the sweat from her forehead and stepped inside out of the wind. Inside the refectory she looked around and saw her friends sat together around one of the long, low tables and went to join them. Strangely, almost unconsciously, she found herself taking the long way round, in order to avoid Gue'vesa'saal Y'ray. Everybody did he was currently sat alone at the centre of a large empty circle eating his lunch. Lei'tan felt sort of sorry for him, but it was just that you couldn't be around him for any length of time. Something about him just made you really want to be somewhere else. She couldn't explain it, and nobody ever talked about it. *** As it was, that seemed to be the end of the discussion. Jonas took another deep swig and blindly tossed the empty bottle away over his shoulder. Lei'tan watched in horror as it only just missed a tall figure sitting a short distance behind Jonas. It was the Kroot Shaper, Vekt. He was sat cross-legged on a tree stump and staring off into the jungle. Jonas turned to follow her gaze. "I'd stay well away from that one, kid. You're probably in enough trouble with big sister as it is." "Why are you so concerned about what Mon'suam may or may not do to me? Is there something I need to know?" Lei'tan sensed the mood change around the group. This was clearly not something that people talked about much. Perhaps she shouldn't have asked. "Well, kid," said Jonas, looking around warily, "I can't say I know her all that well, but from what I hear she's always had a distrust of xenos like us. Not enough to hate us, I don't think, but you couldn't expect her to be your friend or anything. But then something happened to her on Medusa V. Something must've just gone 'click' in her brain and before you know it, she's murdered four Human prisoners just like that, calm as you like, in front of everyone." Lei'tan listened in horror as the others around the group confirmed the story. That wasn't possible. Killing prisoners who had surrendered to the Tau'va? The very idea was unthinkable. And yet, if Lei'tan hadn't intervened earlier, Mon'suam would have done it again. "So like I said, keep a low profile, kid," said Jonas. "I'll keep an eye out for you, don't you worry."
Lei'tan nodded, only half-listening. She was thinking about Mon'suam. What had driven her to those barbaric acts? What had the Gue'la done to deserve it? "So," he went on, "stay away from Mon'suam and stay away from the Kroot, okay kid? And besides," he said, lowering his voice, "that Vekt, well, he's a bit... weird, like." "Oh, am I now?" came the Kroot's voice in reply. What? There's no way he could have heard that, thought Lei'tan. Jonas must have been thinking the same thing. "See what I mean, kid?" he said, rolling his eyes. Vekt had got to his feet and was walking over towards the group. He had his eyes on Lei'tan. "I hope you're not trying to corrupt the child against me, Jonas," he said. His tone of voice was light-hearted, but even so it almost sounded to Lei'tan like a threat. "That depends. Should I be?" "If you are referring to the, ah, incident earlier today, I most humbly apologise. I could try to explain myself, but I fear you wouldn't understand, Gue'vesa'ui." "Damn right I wouldn't understand," said Jonas angrily. "Those Tau are dead because of you, and you know it. I couldn't care less about your personal problems." Vekt remained calm, despite Jonas' provocations. "I can see I am not welcome here," he said solemnly. "However, I would like a quiet word with the young girl in private, if I may?" All eyes now turned to Lei'tan. She hesitated she had heard a few strange things about Vekt which she had just assumed to be idle rumour at best, but just looking at him now made her feel uneasy. Perhaps it would be best not to say no, although she knew that Jonas would not be happy. Even so she got to her feet and hopped across the trench to meet him. "Much obliged, Gue'vesa'la," he said, smiling broadly. "I shall try not to keep you too long." As Vekt led her away, Lei'tan glanced back briefly at the group. Jonas had turned and was giving her a disapproving look. Lei'tan was sure he meant well, but really, she could take care of herself. She didn't need him looking over her shoulder all the time. Even
so, she hoped this would be quick. Something about Vekt was making her feel wrong, like she had felt earlier down in the bunker. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 13 2010, 11:18 AM Aun'el had led Mon'suam and N'sho to what appeared to be the bunker's mess hall. It was quite a large, yet low room, with three long sets of tables and benches arranged along the length of the room, all lit by intense strip lights that began to give you a headache after a while. N'sho and Mon'suam sat down opposite one another, whilst Aun'el stood off to one side next to Mon'suam. Nobody spoke for a while. "Tell me," said Mon'suam eventually. She raised her head to look at N'sho, somewhat conscious of the tears that still ran down her face. "What happened to my sister?" She stared at him for a few moments. He wasn't saying anything. This was a story N'sho didn't want to tell, but that didn't matter. She needed to hear him tell it, even though she had a feeling she already knew the story; even though she knew that it would hurt. Well, she'd had enough hurt today. A little more wouldn't kill her. "N'sho," said Aun'el softly. As always when he spoke, Mon'suam felt a little more at ease. She would probably need to, as she suspected that someone, besides that stinking Gue'la and those damned barbarian Kroot, was to blame for all this. She felt a barrage of conflicting thoughts within her as she realised who thatmight be. It was obvious from the look on N'sho's face right now that he thought so too. "N'sho, it's alright," said Aun'el again. "You may speak." N'sho took a breath. "I thought it was all fine. We were all set up to attack. It should have been zero casualties, but Vekt messed up." He stopped for a moment and looked at Mon'suam, probably to see her reaction. Her face betrayed no emotion, but inside the rage was simmering once again. Just get on with it, she thought frustratedly. It was strange she didn't think she'd ever felt this way towards N'sho before. He had
Walk-on Character
always been there, both as a friend and as a fellow soldier and he had always come through for her. But now... "And then, she..." N'sho went on, struggling with his words. He looked to Aun'el for reassurance. Mon'suam didn't think she'd ever seen him this meek before. "Continue, Shas'ui," said Aun'el, a little more firmly, but still with that same calm tone. "She struck me, and knocked me to the ground. And then she leaned in, and whispered something to me." "What?" asked Mon'suam. "She said she was sorry," he replied. "And by the way she said it I think she really meant it." Mon'suam nodded. Perhaps it was N'sho's fault in some way. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd suffered a mutiny something that was all but unheard of in the Shas and he should have seen that Elan'ka needed a firmer hand. But something didn't sound right. Elan'ka had never apologised for anything in her life. Perhaps she'd changed in the few months that Mon'suam had been away on Medusa V. She'd always been overconfident to the point of arrogance, perhaps justifiably so, but she was loyal. She would never do something like that, no matter how much she might feel like it. And this had just been a minor skirmish, practically a training mission, not something that would decide the fate of the Empire. What could have possessed her to do such a thing? "I feel the torch has been passed to me," said Aun'el. Mon'suam ceased her daydreaming and focused on the Aun as he began to give his account of what happened. "I was the first to follow them into the bunker," he said. "By the time I caught up with your sister the others were all dead, and she herself had just reached the cell. The man inside had the pistol," he said, gesturing to N'sho, who leaned forward and placed the weapon gently on the table in front of Mon'suam. She could see that the magazine had been removed. "Her first shot hit the wall above his head, and then he shot her in the neck just as I reached her. I was able to incapacitate and disarm him, but..." Mon'suam raised a hand. "Enough," she said firmly. She knew the rest. The look on that Gue'la's face when she had moved to take her revenge, and then that other one had stopped her. She would have to be dealt with. They would all have to be dealt with, all those who had betrayed her and stolen her sister from her.
"Mon'suam," said N'sho, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "If there's anything..." "Shut up," said Mon'suam flatly. "Just shut up. If you'd done your job properly she'd still be alive, along with the rest of them. I know you think it too. Now get out." Mon'suam took a moment to let that register with N'sho and Aun'el, and felt a grim sense of satisfaction at putting him in his place. Aun'el naturally had something to say to that, though. He took a step towards her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Mon'suam, there is no telling who is at fault here. It could be many people, it could be none. What matters is that we must stay united, for the Tau'va." Again, that voice, it got right inside your head. Mon'suam found her resolve wavering. It was at that point that she could still have gone either way. She could have agreed with Aun'el, and things would have gone on much as before, but as it was she brushed his hand away and stood up, ignoring his look of surprise. "Please leave me be, Aun'el," she whispered. Before she made for the door she turned to N'sho. Perhaps she did owe him something. "N'sho, I have been in your debt for some time now," she said. "But now we're even. I will be petitioning for a transfer from this Cadre as soon as we are back with the main force. After that, we shall never speak again." Then she left the room without another word, and headed down the corridor towards the cold room where she heard her sister's body had been placed. Ta'is stepped aside without a word as she passed. By herself in the corridor, she realised that she was now completely alone. She had burned her bridges, and now she had finally lost everyone. Well that was fine; she had handled loneliness before and worse than this. Far worse than this. *** <<Medusa V, Edethor region, Sybilla Tertius slum district "The Labyrinth", thirty days before Final Evacuation>> She shivered, and pulled the filthy blanket close. It was all she had been able to find to clothe herself amongst the ruins of the Labyrinth. She watched her breath condense as she slowly breathed in and out. It was so cold here at night without her armour on, but that was okay, it helped to numb the pain. She had realised calmly some time earlier that she was dying.
Dying of the cold, dehydration, starvation, and of course bloodloss. She gently placed her hand to the gash on her face, and winced. It still wasn't healing right, and she felt another trickle of blood run down her cheek. Ten days. Ten days since the rest of the Cadre had left Sybilla Tertius, since she had seen another Tau face. It occurred to her now that she would likely never see one again, at least in the flesh. Her mind however was filled with memories of her comrades, her friends, and of course Elan'ka. Right now she would be on the training fields back on Ya'monat, preparing herself for the time when she would herself go into battle for the Aun and the Tau'va. She slowly shut her eyes. Other faces flitted through her consciousness, people she had all but forgotten. Some of them she recognised: Shas'el Doran'sha'is, Shas'ui Run'ya, Shas'vre Sen'tei, Aun'el, Shas'ui N'sho... She was suddenly brought out of her daydreaming by the sound of raised voices somewhere outside and instinctively cowered, pulling the blanket over her head. She listened in terrified silence for a few moments, and it was then that she began to realise that they might be Tau voices. Tentatively, she dared to feel hope, but part of her was thinking that perhaps she was imagining it. This long without food or water could do strange things to a Tau's mind. She strained to listen closer, not even daring to breathe, but with every passing moment she became more and more certain that the voices were indeed Tau. She cast her mind back ten days ago N'sho had said they would be back for her. Mon'suam had considered it a wellmeant lie, something to give her some comfort in her last few lonely days before death. Until now. The voices were getting closer. Wrapping the blanket tightly around herself, she began to pull herself across the floor to the open doorway using her arms, dragging her bloody, broken legs behind her. She snagged herself on a rusty nail, drawing blood, but continued on regardless of the stinging pain. The hope had overwhelmed her they were here to rescue her, nothing else mattered now. She tried to cry out, but her voice was whispery and hoarse, and so with renewed energy she continued on out of the door and half-crawled, half-tumbled down the steps onto the street where she landed heavily. Panting, she tried to lift herself up on her arms, but found that she didn't have the strength left. She tried again, failed, and then tried to cry out, but still her voice deserted her. And so she lay there, wrapped in her blanket in the rubblestrewn street, staring up at the clear night sky. She suddenly became aware of a bright light out of the corner of her eye, and turned her head to look at it. A Devilfish was moving slowly down the street towards her, shining a searchlight back and
forth across the rubble. Fire Warriors ran ahead of it, checking the buildings lining the road. The searchlight at last came to rest on Mon'suam's body, and squinting against the glare she saw a figure running towards her, shouting something she couldn't quite make out. The figure eventually reached her and knelt down. He removed his helmet, and gently took her hand. Despite the near-blinding light from the Devilfish, Mon'suam recognised the familiar face. It was N'sho. As promised, he had returned for her. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 15 2010, 07:36 PM She followed Vekt away towards the treeline. The light was fading quickly now, and the jungle flora began to cast eerie shadows on the ground, only heightening Lei'tan's sense of unease. She found herself desperately hoping that they weren't going in there. "Please, sit," he eventually said, dropping into a cross-legged position on the ground, a metre or two from from the treeline. Lei'tan hesitated sharing the jungle floor with the natives was something she'd already learnt to avoid but after a moment eventually crouched down, taking care to keep Vekt at a good arm's length. They sat there in silence for a few moments. What, Lei'tan asked herself, was there to talk about? But Vekt just sat there, staring, his golden eyes seeming to bore right through to the back of her skull. It didn't take long for the whole scenario to become too much. "Well, what do you want?" she demanded. Vekt smiled thinly. "You know," he said in that, to Lei'tan's ears, infuriatingly calm tone of voice, "I can't say I'm entirely sure. I just... you seem... different, somehow. From the others back there." He waved an arm in the general direction of Jonas and the others. No doubt the Gue'vesa'ui was straining to hear every word of this conversation. "So?"
Walk-on Character
"People find me strange, do they not?" "Yes," she said. No point in lying. Anyone asking a question like that already knew the answer. "Do you perhaps wonder why that is? Hmm? I shall tell you why," he said, not giving her a chance to answer. "It is because I see things." "That's what eyes are for, Shaper," she said nervously. In her head it was meant to be a joke. If anything it had seemed to rile him a little. "So, you attempt humour when under stress? I see this often in your race. I see a great deal in your race. But..." Vekt paused for a moment, and once again seemed to be looking at a point just behind Lei'tan's eyes and not liking what he was seeing. "...I have never before seen what I see now in you." As he spoke those words, Lei'tan at last understood what it was that was strange about Vekt. He was in her head. Now that she thought about it, he was probably in everyone's head. Prodding, probing, feeling deep within her mind. The thought sent a chill down her spine. She had heard of things like Vekt before, and she remembered it had made her very, very angry. But right now, more than anything, she was curious. "What do you see in me?" she asked, leaning forwards. He took a deep breath. "You are certain you wish to hear what I have to say?" Lei'tan nodded. She couldn't help herself. "I cannot say I know for certain," he said. "But I believe something has left its mark upon you, sometime in the past. Although not all that long ago, I wager. And now, you live in fear of it. That is why... Yes, that is why you really serve the Tau'va. In the past it may have been for the reasons the Aun insist on endlessly parading before us, all very well and good though they may be. No, now it is out of fear not just for others, but for yourself. You have seen, no, you have felt the Mont'au. It has touched your very soul." Lei'tan shivered again; indeed her entire body began to tremble. It wasn't just the words he was saying. It was that feeling, of something getting inside you and tugging away at slivers of your soul. She began to feel dizzy, like she was going to throw up. Curiosity more than satisfied, she went to stand up, but a sinewy arm quickly shot out and grabbed her, pulling her face close to his
own. "I have seen many who have succumbed to the Mont'au," he hissed, his calm, polite tones now suddenly cast aside. "Never have I seen one who has successfully resisted as you have. How did you...?" Lei'tan tried to wrestle herself free from his grip, frantically thinking random thoughts, singing songs in her head to stop him from seeing the truth. But no matter how hard she struggled, it made no difference. She shut her eyes tight; anything to avoid looking into his. "Get off me!" she screamed, drawing her knife with her free hand. Quite what she intended to do with it she had no idea. Suddenly he let go, sending her sprawling into the dirt, and quickly turned his head away from her. His expression was one of utmost concentration it seemed to Lei'tan that he had forgotten all about her in an instant. She got to her feet. Her whole body was shaking, and she felt the first tears forming in her eyes. She hadn't cried since, well, since that night. The thought made her even angrier; it was an effort in itself to force herself to calm down. "You," she said furiously, staring fixedly at Vekt's hunched form, "Stay away from me, you understand? Or Aun help me, I..." Her voice trailed off. He didn't seem to be listening anymore. Lost in his own thoughts for once, Lei'tan thought bitterly. He waved her away impatiently, just as Lei'tan heard footsteps off to her right. She turned to see Jonas with a couple of the others running towards them, weapons in hand. "I heard noises. What happened, kid?" he asked, giving Vekt an evil look. "I'm fine," she lied. I just got mind-raped by this twisted bastard, that's all. "Let's go." And so they left Vekt to his meditations. Lei'tan didn't give him another look, but the others kept giving him uneasy glances over their shoulders as they walked away. He didn't regard them at all. "You need some company, kid?" asked Jonas. At least he wasn't doing the I Told You So speech that she had been half expecting. "No," she replied, wiping her eyes. There was only one person's company she needed right now. "Come and get me when it's our turn on watch."
It wouldn't have surprised her, as she headed towards the hatch, if Vekt had known exactly where she was going. *** Mon'suam gently shut the door behind her as she entered the cold room. It wasn't the most picturesque of scenes. Rows of metal shelves lined the walls, with a handful of nondescript grey containers stacked here and there along their lengths. Each had been marked with a black double-headed eagle, the symbol of the Gue'la Imperium. No doubt they looked up at this symbol with pride, a symbol of the Gue'la's dominance over the galaxy. She rather thought of it as a target. On the left as she walked in were several grey blankets, covering the rows of dead Gue'la soldiers that had been lain out on the concrete. Mon'suam paid them no attention. The Kroot had dealt with their own dead, taking them away into the jungle for some ceremony that Mon'suam had no desire to hear about. Already shivering from the icy cold air, she headed across the room to where several black body bags had been carefully lined up against the shelves on the far wall. They had each been labelled with the name of the Shas'la within. She knelt down next to Elan'ka's bag and slowly, hesitantly unsealed it at the top and pulled the heavy plastic aside. She looked so peaceful now. Even with dark splatters of dried blood covering her face and neck hinting at her terrible end, there was something tranquil about her that Mon'suam had not seen since before she had left for Medusa V. Lately she had burned with some internal fire, had moved with such a sense of purpose, like she was working to some great plan that only she was privy to. "What did I miss, sister?" she asked, quietly. She immediately felt foolish for saying it. Speaking to the dead was what the Gue'la did, worshipping corpses that had departed this world millennia ago. But now, she could almost see why they did it. It was strangely comforting to think that they might actually be listening, no matter how irrational the thought. She quickly re-sealed the bag and stood up. "I'm sorry," she said. "I wish I could have done more." She turned and walked towards the door. For now, she had other things to deal with. ***
Lei'tan descended the concrete steps a little unsteadily. Even here she could feel that something about this place was wrong. It was like being around Vekt, only different. Worse, perhaps, if only for the disturbing sense of familiarity. But it would be okay, once she was down there. She knew what would make things better. Continuing on down the passageway, she thought she could hear footsteps up ahead. Tau ones by the sound of things she suddenly got a sinking feeling about who they would belong to, and sure enough, striding round the corner towards her was Shas'ui Mon'suam. Old Jonas was going to be really sarcastic about this later. The two of them stood stock still for a few moments. What did you do or say in this kind of situation? After a few tortured moments, Mon'suam seemed to disregard her and carried on walking; Lei'tan having to step aside as she strode past. It was then that she made a mistake. "I'm sorry," she said. Now that was a really bad idea. In an instant, Mon'suam had turned, grabbed her and slammed her back up against the wall. Instinctively, Lei'tan was about to push back but then felt the cold, sharp blade of a knife against her throat. Her scarred face was so close now she could feel her breath on her cheek. "Sorry," hissed Mon'suam menacingly, "isn't good enough. Not for what you've done to me. To us." "I haven't..." began Lei'tan. By the Tau'va, what is she talking about? "Please, tell me," she said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. Mon'suam moved her face in even closer, and was about to say something, but then the two of them heard the click of a safety catch flicking off. "Drop the knife, Shas'ui." It was Ta'is. The first words Lei'tan had heard him speak since they left the fleet. He was always so quiet, never speaking to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. Except of course Aun'el. Ta'is seemed to have a reverence for the old Aun that went beyond that of most Gue'vesa, or even most Tau for that matter, and Aun'el had taken him under his wing. Otherwise he only ever seemed truly comfortable in combat that was practically the only time Lei'tan had heard him speak more than two words at a time. Well, this sort
of counted as combat. "Now, Mon'suam," he said again. He had discarded his carbine and instead held an Imperial autopistol in his right hand. It was aimed straight at Mon'suam's head. Slowly, not once breaking eye contact with Lei'tan, Mon'suam backed away and carefully sheathed the blade. "You really want to know what it is I blame you for?" Lei'tan cursed herself for getting into these situations. Hesitantly, she nodded, although truthfully she really didn't want to know. "Follow me," she said, stalking off down the corridor. Reluctantly, Lei'tan went after her, shaking her head at Ta'is as he held out the pistol for her to take. If it came to that, she could certainly handle Mon'suam in a straight fight. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 16 2010, 09:22 PM Mon'suam led her along the corridor to a bunk room off the main passage. Once inside, she swung the heavy metal door shut behind them. The hinges groaned with years of rust and neglect. "You know," said Lei'tan, "I could report you for that incident back there." She didn't really think she meant it though. Not yet, at any rate. "I know," replied Mon'suam flatly. She sat down on one of the low bunks. It sagged and creaked beneath the weight of her and her armour. "Now, don't think for one moment that I'm talking to you now out of some kind of respect, or anything like that." Just along for the ride, Lei'tan nodded. "I'm telling you," she went on, "because you seem so ignorant. Ignorant of what you really are. Perhaps right now you do follow the ideals of the Tau'va, thanks to our influence, but it won't matter in the end. Eventually you will show your race's true colours."
Walk-on Character
Lei'tan was a little shocked by that statement, but after what she had been hearing of Mon'suam lately she wasn't particularly surprised. There was just one thing that she needed to ask. "Why do you hate us so much, Shas'ui?" "Because, Gue'vesa," she said, somehow managing to emphasise the word to sound as contemptuous and patronising as possible, "I have seen what you are capable of. You are barbarians, little more than animals. You thrive on the suffering of others, thrive on the power you think you have over other life. Over us. You murder, pillage, burn and torture your way across the stars, all for your own twisted selfish desires, and somehow you feel that you are righteous in doing so. Given the chance, you would see the galaxy and all its inhabitants burn for the briefest chance at personal power." Lei'tan had been taught much about the so-called "Imperium of Man". She had heard that they were ruthless, and sought nothing less than the destruction of the Tau Empire, indeed all who opposed their dominance. But Lei'tan also realised that what she knew was but a speck compared to the great vastness of this galactic empire. Who knew what had driven them to the methods they used? What unspeakable threats had they been forced to see off in all their centuries of history? It was often said that if you had fought something for long enough, you began to become a little like it. Lei'tan didn't hate the Imperium for that. She pitied it. "I know what you're thinking," said Mon'suam. "You think that the Gue'la can be reformed, that they can be turned to the path of the Tau'va. Perhaps it will work for a while. But in the end it won't matter. As I said, your true nature shall reveal itself. And then, perhaps so slowly we won't even notice it happening, you will destroy the Empire." Lei'tan couldn't believe what she was hearing. This was beyond anything she had been raised to believe on Ya'monat. All races were equal in the eyes of the Tau'va, unless they displayed some fundamental incompatibility, and nowhere else was this recognised more than on Ya'monat. What Mon'suam was doing was reducing the Gue'la to the level of the barbaric Or'es'la, the hateful Reek, or even the ravenous hordes of the Y'he. Comparing them to some kind of disease. "I don't believe you," she said weakly. "I can't believe that you would fall so far as to think this. What happened to you? Is it what happened to Elan'ka?" A thought suddenly occurred to her. "Is it whatever happened to you on Medusa V?" That certainly caught her attention. "What have you heard about Medusa V?"
Lei'tan chose her words carefully. "I've heard... things, about you. You changed." "You think you know about that, do you?" said Mon'suam. "Well then, know this." Mon'suam stood, and began unclipping her torso armour. It dropped to the concrete floor with a heavy thud. Then she slipped her undershirt off over her head, and stood there silently, as if daring Lei'tan to comment. It was... hideous. The deep white scar that marked her face continued on, down her neck and across her chest, where it crisscrossed with perhaps a dozen other poorly healed lacerations. The entire left side of her torso was a mess, a grotesque mass of burn scars. Some of the bones beneath the skin seemed distorted and misshapen, as if they had been broken and allowed to heal the wrong way. "This is what happened to me on Medusa V." *** <<Medusa V, Edethor region, Sybilla Tertius slum district "The Labyrinth", forty days before Final Evacuation>> "Move! I said move, now!" As one, the team broke cover and sprinted in the direction of the approaching Devilfishes in the distance. Behind them, Mon'suam could hear the cacaphony of dozens of lasguns being fired in their direction. She felt a shot strike her shoulder pad and stumbled a little, but she could not falter. She had to get her team out of this hellhole. And things had all been going so well. They'd managed to infiltrate Sybilla Tertius easily enough with little more than a few skirmishes with the locals, and had managed to round up and organise a significant number of Tau supporters, for whatever good they might do. But then, it seemed as if everything had gone wrong. The Gue'la's civil war over this city had spread to the Labyrinth, and the Tau had been caught in the crossfire. There was no way they could stand against the forces now arrayed against them, and so they had given the new Gue'vesa what assistance they could and left them to their own devices for now. Besides, from what Mon'suam heard they would be needed outside the city anyway. A massive assault had been launched against the Tau positions on the Charybdis Crest, and reinforcements were urgently requested.
The Devilfish were still perhaps a hundred metres away when they were out of this, Mon'suam was going to have a very serious word with Shas'ui Run'ya about his timekeeping. It was then that the heavy weapons fire started. Anti-infantry missiles streaked past just yards away with a terrifying shreak, before smashing into a nearby building and shattering all the remaining windows. She glanced to the right. N'sho and Ta'is' teams, the rest of the rearguard, sprinted on. Mon'suam could see Aun'el, running in a quite undignified manner, his ornate armour and robes now battered and filthy with dust, soot and blood. A lasbolt slammed into a Shas'la in N'sho's team, and they fell to the ground in an unnatural twisted position. Still, there seemed to be hope. Just a little further until the Devilfish... Mon'suam heard the whoosh as the missile came shrieking towards her, but to her there was only silence as it impacted just a few metres behind her . She felt it though, as shards of hot shrapnel scythed into the backs of her legs. The stinging, burning pain was unimaginable, and she fell, first to her knees then forwards onto her face, her helmet meeting the concrete with a crack. The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion. Some of the team carried on running, but others turned and tried to grab her and pull her up. It didn't matter; her legs had no strength in them. The next thing she knew was that someone had taken her hand. "N'sho?" "It's me. It's okay, we just need to wait for the Devilfishes to arrive." He turned to the Shas'la. "Everyone; covering fire, now!" Volleys of deadly accurate pulse fire slammed into the approaching Gue'la line. Many fell, but Mon'suam could tell by the sound of lasfire that they were too close now. There was only one thing to do. "Take the Shas'la and run," she said. "Now." "What?" said N'sho. He wasn't really listening. He was too busy focusing on the Imperials. "Go, now!" By the Aun she really, really didn't want to do this, but they had to go. Either she die alone or many more would die with her. "Please! Just take them and run! It's for the Tau'va!"
Mon'suam couldn't see the look on N'sho's face beneath his helmet, but his silence spoke volumes. "Hide," he said, eventually. "Under here, look." He grabbed a large rusty sheet of corrugated metal and dragged it over the hollow in the ground that Mon'suam had fallen into. He took her hand in his in the traditional warrior's grip, wrist-to-wrist. "Stay here. I'll come back. I promise." And then they were gone, and Mon'suam became very, very frightened. She held her breath as the sounds of lasfire drew even closer until they were almost right on top of her; she could hear individual footfalls and even voices. Then they moved on, and things were quiet for a while. Even so, she dared not even move. Who knew who was wandering around out there? There were far worse things out in the city than mere Gue'la.. She didn't know for how long she lay there in the darkness. Far in the distance the sounds of war echoed around the streets of Sybilla Tertius. From the sound of things, there wouldn't be much left of this city by the time things were all over. She removed her helmet it was too constricting. Then, after what felt like an age, eventually she heard footsteps, and voices. Gue'la voices, speaking in the Imperial language, or at least some variant of it. Mon'suam held her breath. Her heart pounded with fear. "Hey, Sarge! Over here!" shouted one of them, and suddenly the sheet was pulled aside. Mon'suam's eyes, now accustomed to the darkness, squinted up in the midday sun at the face of the figure that now stood over her. An Imperial soldier; Cadian, from what she could make out from his uniform. Well, from the intelligence reports Mon'suam had read they had a reputation as disciplined and honourable soldiers. No point in expecting mercy, but at least she could enjoy a quick death. "What is it, Cain?" came the sergeant's reply as he walked over. "I've found one," said Cain, gently prodding Mon'suam with the butt of his lasgun. "What do we do with it?" The sergeant seemed to think on this for a moment. "I reckon, lad, that we might have a little bit of fun tonight." "Right you are, Sergeant Kell." Grinning widely, Cain brought the butt of his lasgun down into Mon'suam's face, and everything went dark.
***
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 17 2010, 06:15 PM Lei'tan listened with a kind of morbid fascination as Mon'suam recounted her tale. Eventually they had just strung her up on a signpost to die, but the rope had broken. It was another nine days before she saw another living soul. "The Imperium's finest, apparently," said Mon'suam, pulling the shirt back on and reaching for her discarded armour. "Men of virtue." "I'm so sorry," said Lei'tan. It sounded pathetic, she knew, but what else could she have said under the circumstances? "That's not all, of course. There were other things I saw during that war. Gue'la prisoners transforming into hideous, ravenous beasts before my very eyes. Mass graves of civilians, slaughtered by the Imperium with neither rhyme nor reason. Don't think that this was merely confined to Medusa V, either. You know of the scouring of Ol'sun'yi, and the chaos of the battle for Sav'ol; the terrible depths that your species can sink to in its vindictiveness and desperation. How can anyone call the Gue'la a civilised people?" Mon'suam finished fastening her armour, and looked down at Lei'tan. "Your kind shall bring the Mont'au upon us, of that I am certain. It's part of your very essence. Even you, Gue'vesa, you who think you serve the Tau'va. And that," she went on, "is why I hate you all." The sound of footsteps out in the corridor suddenly startled them both, and as one they both turned to look at the door. "That's probably my team looking for me. Our turn on watch." Mon'suam went to the door and pulled the heavy bolts back. Just before she left, she turned to Lei'tan one last time. "Never speak of this, understand?" Lei'tan nodded solemnly, and Mon'suam walked off, shutting the
Walk-on Character
door behind her. Perhaps some of it was true. Perhaps the Gue'la truly harboured the Mont'au within their souls, including Lei'tan herself. Most likely Lei'tan herself, in fact. It was a disturbing thought, but at least Mon'suam was certainly wrong about one thing: not all Gue'la were like that. And Lei'tan was going to see one of them right now. She stepped out into the corridor. The encounter with Mon'suam had distracted her somewhat, but once again she could notice the deep, penetrating cold down here in the bunker. She felt strangely agitated, sort of restless, and even a little frightened. It was like someone was standing behind her, looking over her shoulder or something. She shivered, and tried to shake the feeling off. Looking along the passage, she saw Ta'is still standing guard outside the open cell door, holding his sidearm. She somehow doubted that such monotonous duties were a problem for him. He was used to solitude. "Gue'vesa'ui," she said, beginning to walk down the corridor towards him. He turned from the door and nodded in acknowledgement. As she approached, she quickly began to feel that sense of calmness once again. It was a sensation she was used to now after these past few months. "How's he doing?" she asked when she reached the door. She made a conscious effort of not looking in. She had a strange fear she might recognise the prisoner's face if she looked at it for long enough. "No change," replied Ta'is. "He just lies there, whimpering." Lei'tan dared a quick glance. He was curled up on the bed in the foetal position, whimpering and twitching occasionally. The sheets and his clothes were still soaked with blood, and a medic hadn't been sent to take care of his hand. Lei'tan thought of protesting, but decided against it. There must be a good reason. Aun'el wouldn't allow a prisoner to suffer needlessly. "I'm to stay here and watch until I'm told otherwise." And that was their conversation. But his sort never were the talkative kind, at least not at first. Still, a lifetime of social exclusion could do that to a person. It was a tragic shame, but almost as bad was that he probably had no idea why he was the way he was.
They stood in a somewhat awkward silence for a few minutes. Lei'tan found herself shuffling a little closer to him, until finally he spoke up. "Watch him," he said. "I'll be back in a moment." Before Lei'tan was able to protest, he was off down the corridor towards the latrine, and she was left alone with the prisoner. That same feeling of coldness, of something not being quite right was back in an instant, and stronger than she'd felt it before since... She slid the combat knife from its sheath and gripped it tightly, and silently chastised herself for it. It was insane. The only other person around was an old, wounded, probably mentally disturbed Gue'la prisoner who was chained to a bed making noises like a sick baby. A sudden sound, sort of like a quiet chuckle, made her quickly turn round. The prisoner was sitting up on the edge of the bed, staring at her intently. "Hello, Gue'vesa'la," he said in a cheerful voice. His Tau'sia was perfect, Lei'tan noted with a mix of approval, surprise and suspicion. Something really wasn't right; there was no way she was just imagining things any more. She had to ask. "I know you, don't I?" she asked. "Sergeant Evans, 12th Medusa V Regiment," he said, with what Lei'tan thought of as a slightly patronising, mocking tone, and simultaneously ripping off a near-perfect Imperial salute with his mangled hand. "No, I don't think you know him. Now when is someone going to come fix my hand?" "It doesn't seem to be bothering you very much," said Lei'tan. She became aware of the fact that she was exposing as little of herself around the doorframe as possible. She thought she could hear a faint whispering just behind her, and turned to face the speaker. Inevitably, there was nobody there. "I have a strong constitution," he said, and Lei'tan quickly turned back to him. "But that won't count for anything once the fever gets into the wound." Lei'tan hesitated further. The whispering was getting louder, and she felt her mind become filled with a cacophony of strange thoughts and emotions. She recognised some of them: anger, rage, hate. The sick smile on Evans' face was only making things worse, and she felt a cold sweat forming on her brow. "You look like you're losing a little colour there," said Evans. "You
sure everything's okay, Lei'tan?" "Shut up!" she shouted, letting go of the doorframe and running into the room, knife drawn. She managed to stop herself at arm's length from Evans, who hadn't even flinched. "Who are you?" "Why, don't you remember? That magical night we had together, until we were rather, ah, rudely interrupted?" *** <<Shas training facility on Ya'monat, three days after Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> It was a pleasant evening. The equatorial regions of Ya'monat were approaching high summer, and Lei'tan felt a refreshing warm breeze wash over her as she stood alone on the balcony outside the dormitory. At the edge of hearing she recognised the sounds of Shas'ui taking their charges out on nocturnal exercises. In the distance, a patchwork of lights stretching across the horizon was An'monat, first and greatest city of Ya'monat. She turned her head upwards. It was a cloudy night, but Lei'tan still found herself thinking of the millions of stars that lay beyond, just waiting for the light of the Tau'va to shine back upon them. Out there, many millions of kilometres up were the rest of her family, serving as they had done for generations in the Kor. But that was not the life for Lei'tan; that had been clear almost as soon as she had been able to walk and to speak her first words. Lei'tan had never regretted her decision to leave her family's Caste. She had chosen to serve the Tau'va in the only way she felt she would have been able, and all agreed that there was no shame in that. But that wasn't what Lei'tan mostly thought of now as she stared out into the void. For the past four months, the combined strength of the Tau Array Protectorate had fought upon the Imperial world of Medusa V. The exact details of the expedition's progress had not yet been broadcast, but the word was that a great victory had been won and the Fleet was returning home triumphant. A new era had been ushered in for the Tau'va, and there was already talk about beginning a new phase of expansion; a phase that Lei'tan would have the privilege of participating in. It was probably exaggeration of course, but the Por'hui, while they may inflate details, did not lie. A victory it was. The air began to get colder, and Lei'tan decided that it was time to turn in. She made her way inside, shutting the door quietly behind her so as not to wake the others, and clambered into bed. It didn't
take long for her to slide into a deep sleep. *** Lei'tan stood stock still, near-paralysed with shock and terror. "That wasn't real," she said, without much conviction. "It was just a dream." "Just a dream, you say?" said Evans. "Don't be so quick to dismiss dreams." *** Lei'tan woke with a start, and sat up quickly in her bed. She looked around at the darkened room. There was just enough light to see that all the other beds were empty. A table had been knocked over, and random items were strewn across the floor. Lei'tan thought she could make out screaming in the distance, and a deep roaring sound, like a great fire that had gotten out of control. She slipped out of bed and dressed hurriedly in her dark green uniform, and then made her way to the door. She tried a few light switches, but the power seemed to have been cut off. With a feeling of mounting confusion, she ran off down the stairs. She encountered nobody else until she reached the main doors. One was open, and she could make out moving silhouettes outside in the moonlight. Nervously, she stepped out onto the streets of An'monat, and a truly horrifying spectacle. As soon as her feet touched the pavement she almost tripped over a Por's body, mutilated beyond recognition, and sitting at the centre of an expanding pool of cyan liquid. Across the road, a mob of semi-naked Gue'vesa danced down the street, their bodies soaked in blood. They didn't seem to notice her, at least for the moment. She looked up the road. Flames billowed from almost every window, explosions rocked buildings, and huge statues of Tau heroes lay smashed beside their plinths. All around, Gue'vesa stood about, screaming incomprehensible chants and indulging in an orgy of depraved acts with one another. She turned and ran the other way down the street. She passed an alleyway on her right. In the darkness, she thought she could see figures. Twisted shadows moved on the walls, accompanied by inhuman screams of pain, pleasure or both. She had not felt more terrified. What had happened to this place? Was this the Mont'au, come to consume the Tau Empire as the Aun had warned it might? What frightened her most of all, though, was
that she found that she was strangely drawn to the figures in the alleyway. They seemed to sense this, and turned, beckoning for her to join them, whispering softly in seductive voices. *** "It was beautiful, wasn't it?" said Evans wistfully. "Such beauty; such perfect chaos. And it was all for you, if you would have wanted it. And you did want it, didn't you? Even if just a little bit?" Lei'tan said nothing. *** She ran on through the streets. At every turn there was some new demonstration of anarchy. She realised as she ran that she was making her way to Landfall, the great plaza at the centre of the city. There, a great statue of Kor'o Dal'yth B'anuk, founder of the first colony on Ya'monat, stood at the site where the first Tau set foot on this world and watched over the city's inhabitants. *** "It made you hopeful, did it not? To think of old B'anuk? That's the one thing I see wrong with you, Lei'tan. You still have hope, misguided hope that your Tau'va will make everything better. It won't, not in the long run. In the end, we will reign supreme. That is how things always are. Civilisations rise, then they fall, and then all that is left then is us. Chaos. Mont'au." "I'll never believe that," Lei'tan whispered with barely concealed fury. She now held the knife so tightly that her knuckles went white. The only thing stopping her from killing him now was the fact that he was almost certainly expecting it. "You almost did then," said Evans. "You were so close." *** Monument Square was like nothing Lei'tan had ever seen before. Thousands of Gue'vesa had rounded up the Tau and now set upon them in a gargantuan orgy of torture, rape and death. Over all of this the great statue stood, silently, as it always had done. But Lei'tan realised that something was not quite right about it, and before her eyes it shimmered, then writhed and turned to look at Lei'tan. Despite being over a hundred metres away, it felt like it was staring right at her; Lei'tan in the middle of a crowd of tens of thousands. It slowly raised a hand, and almost immediately the noise and the chaos stopped, and those around her turned silently to face Lei'tan. She tried to avoid making eye contact. They looked
hungry. *** "It was so romantic, don't you agree? Eyes meeting through the crowd, and all that?" "Why me?" "Why not? You seemed as good a target as any. So idealistic. So self-righteous. So damned deliciously tempting." With that, Lei'tan lost whatever self-control she had left and lunged forwards. Evans moved like a snake, grabbing her wrists and twisting the knife out of her hand before pulling her face down close to his, and then looked deep into her eyes. There was little else for her to do but look back. *** The image of B'anuk was before her now. Together they stood facing one another as all around, the mob stood silently, greedily casting their eyes over Lei'tan's body. Smiling benevolently, B'anuk extended a hand towards her, as if meaning for her to take it. She ignored it, and looked into his eyes. She saw what he was. Something ancient beyond measure, powerful, able to grant any wish, anything Lei'tan desired, if she was just willing to give up something, something meaningless, some mere trifle. All she had to do was take his hand. Slowly, hesitantly, she raised her own. The mob as one held its breath. In the distance the fires continued to burn unhindered. There were crashes as far off buildings collapsed into rubble. She felt as if he was planting thoughts within her mind. She found herself, for the first time ever, considering something other than the Tau'va. No, that was ridiculous. This must be a trick of some kind. There was nothing but the Tau'va, and yet... she felt for the first time that perhaps there was something else. Amazed that she could think such thoughts, she extended her hand and allowed him to take it within his. The mob screamed with delight and closed in, arms outstretched to grab her. Ordinarily, this would have been the end of Lei'tan, at least as she once was, and she felt it as soon as her skin touched his. In that moment she saw the mind of the daemon, the false promises and lies, the sheer hatred for all that the Tau Empire stood for, for all that she believed in. A deep coldness overcame her as she felt its
essence flow into her, overwhelming her senses with feelings of anger, despair and greed; hateful thoughts that were anathema to the Tau'va. She tried to scream, but no sound came from her lungs, and at last she felt herself slip away. The daemon shimmered, and she saw its expression change from one of triumph to one of confusion, fear and pain. The mob, sensing this change, panicked and fled en masse across the square, leaving Lei'tan alone, holding onto the daemon's hand as it shifted desperately between different forms, each more hideous and terrible than the last. At last it finally screamed, and broke apart before Lei'tan's eyes as a familiar figure approached behind it. She awoke screaming, and sat bolt upright, throwing her arms around Gue'vesa'saal Y'ray as he sat on the edge of her bed. She was freezing, covered in a cold sweat that had soaked the sheets. She felt tears well up and stream down her cheeks, and she could feel her heart pounding at a tremendous rate. Y'ray, no doubt deeply confused, tried to pull away, but Lei'tan just held on tighter. She felt the chaos quickly evaporate from within her, and soon she began to feel calm once again. Even so she held on. For the first time in Y'ray's presence, she felt comforted, even safe. *** Slowly, Lei'tan loosened her hold around Ta'is as he knelt in front of her, no doubt not knowing what to think. She risked a quick glance at the bed, where Evans now lay unconscious. His face was bloody and his nose bent where Ta'is had struck him when he ran in, but most of all he now looked harmless. He had almost taken her though, as he had done before, but one of... of them, had saved her. She pulled away from Ta'is a little and sat back against the wall. "Thank you," she said softly, with absolute sincerity. He just nodded blankly, as she suspected he would, but it didn't matter. Perhaps he didn't understand what he was, or what he was capable of, but Lei'tan understood now what he and his kind were, and what they represented. Mon'suam thought that the Gue'la would bring the Mont'au upon the Tau Empire and destroy it, along with all its dreams and glorious visions of unity. Lei'tan looked into Ta'is' eyes and knew then that the Shas'ui was wrong. They had a weapon now besides words and guns with which to fight against the Mont'au.
-------------------"The Greater Good means nothing to you, and so you are nothing
to me."
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 20 2010, 12:46 AM So, the rise has finally ended, and the fall is just beginning... ... Sorry, couldn't resist. CHAPTER THREE
Walk-on Character
"I have taken great pains not to laugh at the actions of aliens, nor to weep at them or to hate them, but to understand them." Aun'shi. *** "Thank you," Lei'tan said quietly, barely more than a whisper. Ta'is nodded uncertainly, unsure of how to respond. This was not a situation he was familiar with. They sat there together in silence on the cold, concrete floor for a while, until Ta'is heard Evans begin to stir. He was breathing with a horrible rasping, bubbling sound from where Ta'is had broken his nose. Ta'is instantly noticed the change in Lei'tan's expression. Where only a moment before she seemed calm, suddenly she now had a look of fear and anger on her face. He saw her eyes flicker to the discarded blade, and as she grabbed it and stood up, he rose with her and took her by the wrists, pinning her against the wall. "No," he said calmly, ignoring the quiet snigger from behind him on the bed. "Drop the knife, Gue'vesa'la." "Please," she said. "He has to die." "No," he repeated patiently. "You don't understand!" she screamed, and Ta'is could easily recognise the despair in her voice, although it leant her words no greater weight in his mind. "Enough, Gue'vesa'la," he said. She had no idea how important this Gue'la was, and there was no way he could explain why. "Aun'el ordered me to guard and protect this prisoner. Now, drop the knife."
Lei'tan's grip slowly loosened on the weapon, and it fell to the floor with a clatter. "What is going on here?" said a voice at the door. Ta'is and Lei'tan turned to face it. The figure of Aun'el Vort'as was framed in the doorway, his face a picture of concern. "A problem with the prisoner, Aun'el," said Ta'is. He glanced back at Lei'tan. "It has been dealt with." Vort'as' gaze lingered on Lei'tan for a moment, and then drifted to the battered, bloody figure of Evans on the bed. "Indeed," he eventually said. "Very good. Gue'vesa'la, would you mind giving us some privacy?" Lei'tan nodded wordlessly, and then walked away with her head lowered, brushing Vort'as' arm as she passed. They waited until her footsteps had died away down the passage before they spoke further. "There is something wrong with her, Vort'as," said Ta'is, abandoning the usual formalities of rank. "I can't imagine how she got through her psychological evaluations." "Don't be so hard on her," replied Vort'as. "She's been through more than you can imagine. Believe me." "I take it you're not going to tell me what exactly?" "No," said Vort'as with a smile. "But don't let her down here again. It would be... inadvisable. I must confess this is all new to me; if I'd have known beforehand I'd certainly have left her behind for this mission." He shook his head, the smile fading. "Can I request, though, that when we leave for Heaven's Gate you keep her close to you at all times? You do seem to have something of a calming influence on her." "As you say, Aun'el," said Ta'is. Vort'as had his little secrets, as would anyone in such a position of authority and responsibility. There was no point in pressing the issue. "But she is not the only problem here. Others are acting strangely as well. That business with the Kroot, for example. It's like being back on Medusa V again." Vort'as nodded. "Indeed." Medusa V. Now there was a campaign Ta'is would never forget. Towards the end, people started acting very strangely indeed. Discipline began to break down, especially amongst the Gue'vesa,
although almost nobody seemed immune. Half of N'sho's team had effectively mutinied and gotten themselves killed, something that was almost unheard of. Something about that world, or the socalled "celestial anomaly", had begun to affect people. There were complaints about disturbing dreams, which were a complete mystery to Ta'is. He had never dreamed in his life. "I wouldn't worry about it," said Vort'as with one of his knowing little smiles. "Everything is under control." Ta'is nodded in agreement, but he had seen that smile enough times to recognise it for the fake it certainly was. Even Vort'as sometimes forgot how perceptive Ta'is could be, despite spending his formative years on the sidelines. It was unusual in a society as communal as the Tau Empire, but what people often failed to realise was that being on the outside, and yet so close, meant that you learned to observe people. In any case, it certainly wasn't a comforting thought. In the past few hours it seemed that nothing was under control anymore. Ta'is' world had changed. "So when are we getting picked up? Who knows when the rest of the Gue'la will be back?" "I haven't decided yet," said Vort'as with a grin. "A little uncertainty is always good for the recruits. Keeps them on their toes, I find." "As you say," said Ta'is. Another lie. "Indeed," said Vort'as, before turning to leave. "I'll speak to you later. Stay with the prisoner. Oh, and Ta'is...?" "Yes?" "Next time you need to urinate, use the bucket in here. Do not leave this Gue'la alone, even for a moment. Do you understand?" "Yes, Aun'el." "Good. Thank you, Ta'is," he said, before turning to leave. *** <<Shas training facility on Ya'monat, three years before Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> "Form up!" shouted the Gue'vesa'ui, and immediately the assembled Gue'vesa'saal stepped into formation on the training
field. They stood there at attention in their neat rows. At least except for at the back, where at one end there was a small gap between one Gue'vesa'saal and all the rest. The instructors had long since given up trying to sort out that little inconsistency. Their time in the Academy was almost done. Soon they would take the rank of Gue'vesa'la and perhaps join the war for the Brightstone Gate. Ta'is wondered idly about that. The others were excited or anxious about the possibility. Ta'is had looked out at Ya'monat, the Empire and the stars beyond and only ever shrugged with indifference. He suddenly became aware of a change in the rest of the Gue'vesa'saal, as if they had all started to hold their breath. Something was happening down in front, and Ta'is craned his neck to try and see. He caught a glimpse of a robed Tau walking down the line, stopping and exchanging a few words with some of the Gue'vesa'saal. Their excitement was plain to see. It took a few minutes for the Aun to make his way to the back row, where he ignored all the others and came straight to Ta'is. "Saal'tau'sin, I believe?" said the Aun. Ta'is bowed his head dutifully. "Yes. Although I have used the name Ta'is for several years now." It wasn't a real name, though, at least not at first. Just something for others to call him behind his back. Cold Soul. Ta'is had always thought it far more fitting than his other, older name. "Indeed. My apologies, Saal'ta'is. I am Aun'el Dal'yth Shas'tesa Vort'as," he said. "I have been following your progress for some time, Ta'is, and I must say I'm deeply impressed." "Thank you," said Ta'is. Aun'el Vort'as. Ta'is had heard of him. Everyone had heard of him; he was one of the most senior Aun on Ya'monat, second only to Aun'o Ta'j'uk himself. "I feel that your efforts deserve greater recognition. In fact, when you have completed your training, there may be a place for you at my side. How do you feel about joining me in the 23rd?" There was a collective gasp from those stood nearby that rippled outwards as whispers were passed down. The 23rd. Aun'el Vort'as' personal Cadre, with many of its members hand-picked by the Aun himself. Not officially, of course, but with the Aun even a vague suggestion would often enough be treated as a life or death order. "Thank you, Aun'el," he said flatly, with nothing but indifference. "I accept."
But, although he would not realise it for a while, on that day on the training fields of Ya'monat, Ta'is' life began to change. *** Ta'is stood in the middle of the room for a while, but eventually retreated to the door. It would be best to keep a good distance in case he tried anything again. "You should have let her, you know," said Evans. "Kill me. Believe me, you'd be better off in the long run." Ta'is listened with disinterest. It didn't matter to him whether Evans lived or died. Even the Gue'la had seen fit to lock him up. "Still, it won't really matter," Evans went on. "Inquisitor Regan has everything under control." Sarcasm? "He's got the man in black, and compared to him, you're as a child in the presence of gods." "Be quiet," said Ta'is. Clearly some form of mental disorder, he thought. Evans ignored him. "He's coming now. He's not far. I can see him, like a black hole eclipsing a distant star. And do you know what, Gue'vesa'ui?" "What?" "I'm actually afraid. Truly afraid." ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 20 2010, 08:57 PM In the shadow of a large tree trunk, Kroot Shaper Janghkor Vekt crouched in silence, and watched, and waited. It was the wrong time of year to see the sky-spanning Brightstone Nebula at night, so were it not for the soft light of Amethia's twin moons, the jungle would have been pitch-black by now. That might have been preferable though, thought Vekt. When everything is black, there are no shadows.
Walk-on Character
Why was he thinking like this? A Kroot afraid of mere shadows? He had seen real jungles before, real horrors, and this place didn't even compare. Perhaps it was that business earlier with the Human female. Try as he might, Vekt couldn't get that conversation out of his head, or the memories of what he had seen when he looked inside her mind. Much of it he couldn't truly understand, but there was one thing that stood out: that Lei'tan truly feared and hated him. A pity, as he would have liked another chance to speak with her, to try and understand just what was going on within her mind and soul. Not to mention that after the skirmish earlier today, the kindred's future with the Cadre was far from assured. But how could he explain himself? Would they really understand the feeling that this place instilled in him, like having his soul used in a tug of war, all the while desperately trying to keep his race's worst instincts from taking over? He could remember those old days clearly, of living like an animal, for no greater purpose than to feed. All before he had realised the truth, seen the reality of just what the Kroot really were, or at least what they might some day become. *** <<Medusa V, Armida region, mangrove swamps south-west of Hive Stheno, twenty four days before Final Evacuation>> How long the Kroot had lain in wait, Vekt was no longer sure. It didn't matter you had to have the patience of a saint when on the hunt, especially for these Humans. Vekt had faced them before, the soldiers of Catachan, and had known no better jungle fighters in the Imperium of Man. They were ideal prey for the kindred. The heat and humidity was brutal, and insects swarmed so thickly that sometimes it became difficult to see clearly for more than a few yards. It would be worth it, though, once the prey had been harvested. All Vekt had to do was keep the kindred under control long enough for them to walk into the trap. That may be easier said than done, though. There was suddenly a change in the air. Vekt sniffed deeply. They come, he thought. Good. A minute or so later, Vekt heard the splashes as the Human patrol made their way through the waters of the mangroves towards them. It was perfect. Vekt felt his heart begin to race, as it always did just before a kill. For a real Kroot, there was no greater thrill. He counted in his head as they came into view, one, two, three, four... eight of them. Six male, two female. They looked perfectly relaxed and at home here in the jungle, totally unlike most other
Humans, who couldn't stand the place. Still, Vekt knew better than to let that fool him they were always ready for an attack. Even the slightest movement now from any one of the kindred might yet ruin everything. Suddenly the prey stopped, and looked around at the trees suspiciously. They were good, thought Vekt. A few tense moments followed, as the Humans slowly unsheathed their blades. They really were very, very good. Oh well, thought Vekt. Time to kill. He sprung from his hiding place in the roots of a mangrove tree like lightning. The first Human was already turning to face him as Vekt grabbed him and tore his throat out with his claws. A split second later the other Kroot had emerged from their hiding places and pounced. The Humans moved like lightning, spinning and meeting the Kroot's charge head-on, impaling two of the Kroot on the ends of their swords. Even so, they didn't stand much of a chance against an entire kindred of Kroot with their blood up, and the rest of them were torn to pieces in the Kroot's murderous frenzy. They weren't, as it turned out, good enough. And that was the problem. No matter how good these Humans were as prey, they would never be enough for Vekt. Crouching there with the other Kroot, tearing the warm flesh from the bodies of the Humans, he found himself wanting more. Needing more. As he fed, he smiled to himself. That at least was one wish that could perhaps be fulfilled. In the past few days there had been a new scent in the air, of a new prey that Vekt had not recognised. Also, word had reached his ears that this new prey was the deadliest yet, a truly terrifying predator and the equal of the Kroot in many ways. To Vekt, it sounded like heaven. *** He shuddered, but not in revulsion at the acts he had once committed, the creature he had once been. It was horror at himself now, as he found himself remembering those times with a kind of fondness. It was that, more than anything else, more than the disturbing presence he could feel in this place, which terrified him to the depths of his soul. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 22 2010, 01:57 AM Evans had largely quietened down for the time being. His incomprehensible ranting and babbling had been most unusual. He had thought about punching him to get him to be quiet, and had warned Evans as much. He hadn't genuinely considered harming him unless it was really necessary, but the threat seemed to have been enough. For now, Evans seemed content to alternate between giggling and weeping quietly, as well as occasionally muttering under his breath something that Ta'is was unable to make out. Not that Ta'is was particularly interested in what Evans had to say for himself anyway it was all the product of a damaged, chaotic mind in any case. What he really found himself wishing for right now was to get out of this hole, to get back to some sense of sanity and normality. But, as time went on, Ta'is increasingly suspected that things would never be truly normal again. Perhaps he would get some kind of explanation for what had happened here although he wasn't sure that would be an improvement upon uncertainty. Would answers set his mind to rest, or would the truth be worse than ignorance? The sound of hooves on concrete echoed down the corridor. He leaned around the doorframe to see Vort'as making his way down towards the cell. The Aun smiled warmly when he saw Ta'is' face. "How is our guest holding up?" he asked when he reached the cell door. "No change," replied Ta'is. "He started saying some strange things after you left, but seems to have calmed down now." "Strange?" "He kept talking about an Inquisitor, and some 'man in black' as he called it. I can't say if any of it is relevant to us. The man has clearly lost his mind." Ta'is noticed a slight change in Vort'as' expression when the man in black was mentioned. It was only a tiny thing, something that a stranger probably wouldn't have noticed.
Walk-on Character
"I wouldn't let it concern you," Vort'as said reassuringly, absentmindedly tapping Ta'is' shoulder. His eyes remained fixed on Evans, though. "As you say." He hesitated briefly. "What is the situation outside?" he eventually asked, instead of the other question he was thinking about. "Hmm?" mumbled Vort'as, refocusing his attention on Ta'is. "Oh, as well as can be expected. N'sho is a mess, but he should pull through. He has dealt with crises far worse than this before. And of course, there will have to be an investigation into what happened." Ta'is nodded in agreement. Still, it was quite simply unprecedented. Even one incident like that would have been unheard of until Medusa V, but for a Shas'ui to suffer two? "Mon'suam's and Vekt's units are out on sentry duty," said Vort'as. "Do you think that is wise? Mon'suam had a knife to Lei'tan's throat earlier. I had to threaten her at gunpoint to get her to back down." Vort'as seemed to consider this for a moment, although Ta'is didn't notice even the merest hint of surprise. "Would you have fired?" he asked. "What?" "Would you have fired the gun? Killed Mon'suam?" Ta'is was a little surprised at Vort'as' bluntness on such a matter. Still, it was the simplest question to answer. "No," he said. "Of course not. She is a Tau." Vort'as smiled in satisfaction. "That's right. She is. So she wouldn't have either." "I see." There was another pause. Now was as good a time to ask as any. He needed to get the truth sooner or later; otherwise everything might be thrown into question. "Aun'el," he began, "why did..." "NO!" Vort'as jumped with shock at the sound of Evans' terrified voice, and he and Ta'is turned to look at the Gue'la. He had leapt
screaming out of the bed, only to fall flat on his face as the chain around his ankle went taut. There was a wet crunch as his face hit the concrete floor. Ta'is went to help him up, but Evans pushed himself up on his hands and scrambled back onto the bed, then shuffled back into the corner against the wall and stared pleadingly at Vort'as. Through all the blood and tears, Ta'is looked upon the most helpless, terrified looking face he had ever seen. Vort'as on the other hand was trembling with barely controlled excitement. "Don't; don't let him near me, please. Please!" Evans screamed, pointing in a seemingly random direction into the wall. Ta'is took a careful step towards him, his open hands held out before him. "Calm yourself," he said. It only seemed to make him worse. "Get away from me!" he screamed at Ta'is. "You, Aun, don't you understand? He's coming!" "Who's coming?" asked Ta'is firmly. He glanced sideways at Vort'as. He had the look of someone who already knew what was happening. "The man in black! I told you! He's coming for me!" Evans was now on his feet on the bed, punching the concrete wall with both hands, seemingly oblivious to the damage he was doing to himself, screaming and cursing all the while as Ta'is and Vort'as looked on. Eventually, when Evans seemed to realise he was doing little more than paint the cell walls red, he sat down heavily and grabbed the chain binding his ankle. With one swift movement, he brought it up to his mouth and bit down heavily. There was a crack as several teeth broke, but he wouldn't relent. Ta'is decided to put an end to it. He glanced quickly at Vort'as, who nodded in agreement before hurriedly turning to leave the room. And so Ta'is walked forwards and grabbed Evans by the hair, yanking his head up into eye contact. His face was a mess. His nose had been smashed into a bloody pulp, and thick, dark blood oozed from his mouth where several of his teeth had snapped off. He was about to try and wrestle the chain from his grip, but as it turned out, it wasn't necessary. With a pitiful whimper, Evans closed his eyes and passed out there and then. Ta'is let go of his hair, and he fell back onto the bed and was still, save for his occasional ragged breathing. Vort'as was already at the door. He turned to Ta'is, apparently unconcerned by the bloody, broken body lying next to him. "Stay here," he said firmly. "What's happening? Is something coming?" asked Ta'is.
Vort'as smiled. "Yes." The smile widened further. "A new hope for us all." Then he was away, running down the corridor and babbling into his comm with all the excitement of a Saal on his first day. "All units on full alert. We may have company." Ta'is stood alone in the room once again. A new hope, he thought. That was an interesting choice of words. To him, those words would only ever mean confusion, disorder and death. *** <<Arin Valley, New Hope (now Sav'ol), two and a half years before Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> Gue'vesa'la Ta'is was not afraid. The other Shas had said he would be, on his first time. Aun'el had said he had every confidence in him, and that Ta'is would benefit greatly from some real combat experience. What he did feel as sat in the Devilfish's passenger hold, riding to battle for the first time, was not fear, but more a sense of irrelevance. Why was he even here? This war was as good as won anyway. After over four years of war, the Gue'la of New Hope were as good as finished, by all accounts. Even so, as he looked around at his fellow Gue'vesa, he did feel a sense of something else now, something he had never noticed before. It was hard to place, but in any case, now was not the time for such idle thoughts. His carbine was laid across his lap, the safety locked. He gave it another brief systems check, and waited. There was less than a minute now until contact. In a few moments, Ta'is would have to fire his weapon in combat for the first time, not just at a training drone, or using a harmless laser carbine. The idea of taking another life was an interesting one; to see a thread of consciousness simply disappear forever into nothingness and for the universe to continue, against all expectations, as if nothing had happened. What was the Tau'va against such simple inevitability? Only a few seconds to go now, Ta'is thought. Maybe it would be him to die. Then again, maybe not. There it was, that feeling once again, of something being not quite right. A strange sense of... uncertainty, perhaps. He rocked sideways in his seat a little as he felt the Devilfish slew to a near-stop. The other Gue'vesa were on their feet just a splitsecond before he was, and then the ramp was opened and Ta'is'
world changed forever. He dropped feet first into a red puddle, and saw the thick droplets splash up into his field of vision. He raised an arm to wipe it from the front of his helmet. The noise of it all. Screams, gunfire, explosions and the shriek of missiles all mingled in his mind into a mindless, deafening symphony of madness. The team was sprinting up a hill overlooking the nearby Gue'la settlement. Ta'is found himself struggling to negotiate the dozens of corpses that littered the ground. Gue'la or Gue'vesa? Given the state of most of them, it was impossible to tell. A team of Crisis battlesuits leapt up the hill to their right, continually firing at the row of buildings that crowned it no more than fifty metres away. One structure literally exploded, the roof lifting clean upwards a fraction of a second before the walls blew out in a shower of dust, rubble and flames. The team continued, onward and upward, through a thickening hail of lasgun fire. Thick smoke filled the sky, blotting out the sun completely. The battlefield was covered instead by writhing, billowing clouds that glowed red and orange with the fires of the battle being fought beneath. He had not expected this. It was as if the entire Gue'la settlement beyond the hill was burning, and that couldn't be right. The Tau had no need to do such wanton damage at this stage. The orders continued to come in over the comm network. "Cadre two-three takes the right flank on my command. Gue'vesa on room clearance. Go." Ta'is followed his team up around to the right, behind the carcasses of wrecked Gue'la tanks and gun emplacements. The gaping hole in the rear of one of them caught his attention briefly. Thick, oily black smoke blew across the team's path and greased over the front of his helmet, obscuring his vision once again. Then they were at the low outer walls of the Gue'la's defences. From the looks of them, these had originally been civilian habitations. Pulse and heavy weapons fire continued to pour into the stonework, blasting the primitive structures into dust. There would be very few houses for them to clear of enemies at this rate. A few sporadic shots darted out at them, mostly lasfire, bringing down perhaps two or three Fire Warriors. Within moments Ta'is' team was clambering over the rubble of the first row of buildings. They met no resistance. The Gue'la had all either run or died where they stood. The second row was more-or-less intact, although not a single window pane had survived, and several were missing some or all of
their roofs. Blackened roof tiles occasionally crashed down onto the paving nearby. "On me," said Gue'vesa'ui Ol'nan over the comm. "Colt, Ta'is, Alo'ka, Mon'por, you're with me, the rest of you take the right with Kais. Watch for crossfire and keep moving. Report in when clear." And just like that they were off again, over the narrow paved street between them and the second row of houses. They were moving further ahead of their support fire now, but they had to keep moving, keep pressing their advantage before the enemy could have a chance to regroup. He caught a glimpse of Alexus' team moving ahead to their left, blasting their way through the frontage of a redbrick house in a storm of carbine fire and photon grenades. "Breach on my mark," said Ol'nan, then as the Gue'vesa took position at the door and windows, "BREACH!" The Gue'vesa at the windows emptied their weapons into the building's interior as Ol'nan smashed down the door. Ta'is was right behind him, so when Ol'nan was knocked to the ground from a lasbolt to the chest, Ta'is was the one who vapourised the Gue'la's head in return with a single shot from his carbine. The rest of the team came pouring in in their turn, spreading out into the rest of the house. The sounds of screaming and weapons fire echoed into the room. "Ta'is," said Ol'nan, getting unsteadily to his feet. His chest armour was black and distorted from the shot. "You and Alo'ka take the stairs." With a quick nod Ta'is was off, moving quickly but cautiously with Alo'ka right behind him. He thought he heard the sound of footsteps up ahead and froze for a moment. Then came the shouting. The language these Gue'la were speaking was strange, not one he had learnt, although it did sound to Ta'is like they were arguing. He broke into a run, and was up onto the next floor and kicking down the door even as he heard the single, sharp snap of a las weapon being fired. Entering the room, Ta'is could see what had transpired. One Gue'la was down, blood flowing in a torrent from the gaping hole in his chest. The other looked desperately at Ta'is, and said something he couldn't understand. He took a step towards him, still holding the pistol up and shouting. Ta'is did not hesitate. He took the Gue'la down with a single shot to the torso. "Ground floor clear," came Ol'nan's voice on the comm. "Verified." That was Kais.
Ta'is looked around. There was another door on this floor. It suddenly came crashing open, and he quickly went to one knee, his carbine raised. It was only another Gue'vesa, one of Alexus' to judge by his markings. It was obviously a connecting door to the next building. The other Gue'vesa gave him a nod before leaving by the same door. "Upper floor clear," Ta'is replied. Further identical reports were no doubt being circulated throughout the Cadre, but the next voice Ta'is heard was that of Shas'el Doran'sha'is. "All units, the area has now been cleared. The surviving Gue'la have either surrendered or are retreating to the main settlement. Fire support teams are to move up and take positions overlooking the town." Ta'is slung his carbine over his shoulder and removed his helmet. The air was hot, and smelled of smoke, thick and cloying. He went to the window, and it was then that he saw why. Spread out below them, the town was burning. Three Mantas floated gracefully over from the south, their heavy guns lancing out and levelling entire streets with each shot fired. Artillery fire arced back and forth, but there were no Tau troops in the main settlement yet. Ta'is couldn't understand why they would be firing that way. "It's a real mess, isn't it?" Ta'is turned. The voice was familiar, even if the words were spoken in a Gue'la tongue. "What is happening here, Gue'vesa'ui?" asked Ta'is, effortlessly dropping into the same, harsh-sounding dialect. "The Imperium knows it has lost," replied Alexus. Ta'is looked blank. "So why haven't they surrendered?" "Well," Alexus went on, "what you have here is an example of Humanity at its most desperate and malicious. Half of them do in fact want to surrender, so they're turning on their old friends in the hope that we'll spare them." Ta'is had a flash of understanding then about what was happening with the two Gue'la in the next room, as Alexus went on. "The other half would be your hardcore Imperialists. They're trying to kill the first half for being traitors, and at the same time are taking steps to destroy absolutely everything of value in order to deny it to the conquerors. That would be us, naturally. The xenos and the heretics united."
"That doesn't make any sense." "That's Humans for you," said Alexus. He took a swig from his canteen before offering it to Ta'is. It was an Imperial one Alexus insisted on carrying it with him even after all this time. "Luckily for you, you came into this world with a Tau's soul. If it weren't for a happy accident of birth, you could be one of those poor bastards down there. Chaos; that's all life is in the end. Random and uncaring." "It shouldn't be," Ta'is heard himself say. He accepted the canteen from Alexus, and took a quick pull of the cool, nutrient-enhanced water before handing it back. "I know," said Alexus with a smile. "Why do you think I'm on your side?" He went to give Ta'is a slap on the shoulder, but then Ta'is noticed that slightly vacant, slightly uneasy look that he was already well used to, and Alexus gently lowered his hand back to his side. "The Greater Good," he went on after a moment. Ta'is realised that Alexus wasn't even looking at him anymore as he spoke. "That's a path I can follow, if it leads Humanity away from that. And if the Ethereals can keep it all going, then I'm willing to follow them to hell and back." Ta'is nodded. It was a lesson that the Tau had tried to instil in the minds of its youth from before they were able to walk, but somehow it had taken until now for Ta'is to realise the truth. He had needed to see the disorder and chaos that existed in the wider galaxy before he could understand the unity and order to be provided by the Tau'va. Order or disorder; unity or chaos; Tau'va or Mont'au. The choices were the same. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 22 2010, 11:23 PM
Walk-on Character
Trembling, Vekt raised his rifle and, after a few attempts, managed to flick the safety off. His eyes constantly flickered back and forth in the darkness, drawn to even the slightest movement of a branch swaying in the breeze, the scurrying of the tiniest rodent across the jungle floor. He found himself jumping at the sound of chittering insects, of twigs breaking, of the crunch of leaves being disturbed on the jungle floor. Vekt knew though that he was being a fool. It wasn't those things he should be afraid of. The real horror was out there in the darkness; a cold, still and silent terror. His stomach churned and rumbled, and he shivered as a cold sweat broke out across his body. He knew what it meant. Not for the first time today, he felt himself craving fresh meat, craving new prey to harvest. He barely registered Vort'as' frantic tones across his comm-link. It didn't matter. He knew there was something out there, something dangerous. What he didn't know was why it was making him feel like this, so terrified, and causing him to revert to his old self, abandon his sense of rationality and plunge back into primal instinct. He knew where the old Vekt, where the entire Kroot race even, could end up if it remained on that path. He had seen it all too well. *** <<Medusa V, Armida region, mangrove swamps south-west of Hive Stheno, sixteen days before Final Evacuation>> The kindred moved swiftly through the swamp, splashing through the filthy, stagnant water. Vekt wasn't concerned with how much noise they were making. He was impatient for the kill. For two days they had stalked their prey through the trees, waiting for the chance to strike, and now that time had come. A recent skirmish against the Humans had left the prey alone, isolated, and Vekt wasn't going to let this chance slip through his fingers. He couldn't allow himself to lose this prey. This prey was... perfect. *** He suddenly became aware that the jungle had fallen silent. Where mere moments ago it had been alive with the sounds of nature, now there was nothing. No creatures stirred. The breeze had died down to a dead calm, although somehow that only made Vekt colder. He tightened his grip on his bladed rifle, and waited. His stomach groaned again. Even with his faculties slowly slipping away, he finally realised what it really meant. He didn't just want
prey. He wanted the prey that was out there in the darkness, coming for him. He wanted the power that it so plainly held. Unfortunately for him, he no longer remembered what his old lust for power had almost cost him and his kindred. *** There it was now. Vekt could barely contain his excitement. The prey was barely twenty yards away across the shallow water in plain sight. It was incredible. It had a huge serpent-like body, several times taller than that of a Kroot. Here and there huge plates of carapace protruded, particularly along the top of its massive head, at the back of which could be seen what Vekt assumed to be its vast brain, exposed and seemingly vulnerable. But what seemed most incredible to Vekt, and what excited him the most, was that the creature was floating several feet above the ground as it moved, even though no aspect of its physical form would suggest this to be possible. He wasted no time. "Attack!" he shouted, and as one the kindred leapt forward through the marshes. The creature made no attempt to escape or to resist the attack it seemed to Vekt that it hadn't even registered their presence. Within seconds the Kroot were on it, swinging their blades, slashing, tearing, ripping at the creature's flesh. Purple ichor bled from the multitude of wounds, turning the murky water beneath them black. To a Human, perhaps, the smell would have been unbearable, but Vekt relished it, breathing it all in deeply. When they were done, and the creature lay dead on its side in the shallow water, the other Kroot then backed off, leaving Vekt alone with the carcass. As Shaper, it was his duty and privilege to sample the prey first, and so he knelt down next it and began to eat enthusiastically. He swallowed a few mouthfuls before his digestive and assimilatory systems began to work on the prey's genome. This was a strange creature and no mistake; there was no way it was a natural occurrence. Vekt could feel the presence of other races within its makeup: Eldar especially, but there were also traces of Human, Ork, and countless others. Some he knew, others were unfamiliar to him, but all just did not seem natural here. It was this sense of unease that prompted him to stop feeding, and so he leaned back upright and closed his eyes, shutting off his other senses so that he could focus purely on the assimilation.
In the darkness he saw the creature's ancestors fading into the distant past, but at almost every generation he felt that something had intervened in its evolution. Some higher power, some great intelligence had designed this creature from the fragments of others. It had consumed life, and made it its own. Vekt could feel the instincts of this creature. The sheer, desperate, single-minded urge to feed on other races in order to better itself, to serve this one purpose at the expense of everything else. He thought he could sense the great consciousness that drove this creature and others of its kind. It was a vast, dark shadow that stretched across the stars, looking upon the galaxy and its inhabitants with greed, an insatiable hunger that would strip the universe bare if it could. Vekt could feel it. It was calling for him. Almost too late, he realised that he had been tricked. This creature was a trap; bait to lure him and his kindred into feeding on it so it could take them as its own. His eyes snapped open in a panic, and he contracted his stomach muscles, expelling the semi-digested flesh all over the prey's carcass. He began to hear whispering in his head; a gentle voice urging him to give in, to accept the Hive Mind. It was so enticing, and the soft caress of those words was almost enough, but Vekt could sense the true nature of the beast behind it and fought back. No matter how hard he tried to resist though, he felt himself slipping away, felt his body turn itself over to a new mind, a new master. At last, in desperation, he began to claw at himself, tearing open deep gashes in his flesh. The pain was intense, but it allowed him to focus, to try and hold on. Several of the others ran forwards to try and help him, but Vekt wildly swung at them and they stood back as he practically tore himself open. At last he let out a loud, piercing scream that echoed back and forth through the trees, and slowly fell back into the water with a splash. He lay there for a moment, then slowly, wincing with every movement, got to his feet. Muddy water, his own blood and the purple ichor of the prey dripped off him. The stinging pain from his numerous wounds barely registered, although as he looked into the eyes of his kindred, he realised that there was something powerful he had taken from his prey. His final prey. *** In the near-absolute silence Vekt crouched, poised. His heart
pounded against the inside of his torso. The few remaining shreds of sane, rational thought pleaded in terror with his body to flee, to call for assistance, to just get away from the monstrosity that was out there. It was too late, though. The faint rustling of leaves pricked his ears and, sure enough, out of the darkness ahead stalked the prey. It looked like a Human, clad in a black form-fitting body suit, and with a leering white skull mask. Two crimson eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, and around his head was wrapped a huge, bulbous device that glowed and crackled with a strange energy. Vekt almost froze at the approach of this apparition, but his mind no longer had full control and its protests were ignored. He pounced forwards, rifle raised. The prey reacted immediately, and as it drew its blade the device around its head exploded into life, almost blinding Vekt with its arcane light. He faltered, and stumbled as all the life went out of his limbs, before falling forwards onto his face in the leaves before it. With what little energy he had left, Vekt looked up to see the prey raise its sword. The shot seemed to come out of nowhere, taking the prey's swordarm off at the elbow. It did not scream, nor make any other sound to indicate it felt any pain from the wound, and with its other hand it reached for a pistol holstered at its waist. Even as it raised it to return fire a second shot struck it in the abdomen, blowing a hole through almost half its torso. Steaming blood and cooked, shredded internal organs sprayed out into the darkness and it was thrown backwards several feet, landing heavily on its back in the mud. The light slowly dimmed, and went out. Vekt thought he could hear voices, but they were quiet, distantsounding, and muffled. Through his blurred vision, he could make out a body lying before him. He didn't know why it was there. He only knew one thing. It is sometimes said that in times of great stress, an individual shows their true nature; their true self. So it was that now, driven only by an instinct far older than even the Kroot race itself, Janghkor Vekt began to feed. It was there, in the deepest, darkest depths of his consciousness, that Vekt felt the prey's essence. Chromosomes were split apart and analysed. He saw the parents, grandparents, distant ancestors lined up, male and female side-by-side, disappearing further and further back into the great murk of deep time. The gradual evolutionary accumulation of change was undone as he watched, reverting through countless ancestral forms, at each step in the journey slowly fading into a cloud of ever-increasing uncertainty.
He compared the prey to the countless others he had consumed and assimilated throughout his lifetime. This was a Human, not much different to any other. A very good specimen, though. Strong. Fast. Intelligent. Yet still, nothing to particularly warrant his attention beyond that. No. Wait. There a single locus; a single gene, hidden deep in the genome of the prey, so inconspicuous you might so easily fail to spot it. It was wrong, somehow. Something was different. There had been change here, artificial change, perhaps millions of years ago. There were other signs of manipulation here and there, of course, but they were only within the past few millennia and had already begun to show the usual signs of mutation and degeneration. This, on the other hand... Something alien had intervened. Something powerful, something ancient... something terrifying, and evil beyond compare. Vekt was familiar with engineered life forms. He had consumed many in the past, but this Human, this thing? It was an abomination, a nemesis, a deep void in the heart and soul of life itself. Vekt was suddenly hit by a horrifying realisation: what would become of him now, now that he had taken this evil within himself? That shocking thought was cast aside by another. He realised that he was actually familiar with this gene, or at least its terrible manifestation. With mounting anger beginning to cloud his thoughts even as his mind returned to him, he began to hear one name echoing over and over in his mind. Ta'is. Vekt opened his eyes. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 23 2010, 11:34 PM
Ta'is flicked on his comm-link and listened to the chatter going on outside. He had heard several pulse rounds being discharged a few minutes earlier. Judging by that and the current frantic conversation most of it involving Vort'as and Mon'suam something exciting was happening. Walk-on Character Evans seemed to have settled down, at least for now. He was curled up on the bed fast asleep, snoring in loud rasps through the drying blood and smashed cartilage of what remained of his nose. For the first time since Ta'is had met the man, he actually seemed to be somewhat at peace. He even thought he could detect a faint smile on the man's lips as he slept. He flicked off the comm as he heard footsteps rapidly descend the concrete steps of the bunker and run swiftly down the corridor. He turned and stepped around the doorframe to meet the new arrival. *** Vekt wasted no time, reaching out and grabbing Ta'is firmly by the throat. With little effort, he lifted him up to eye-level, swung him round and slammed him against the concrete wall where he impacted with a crunch. As Ta'is writhed and struggled vainly in his grip, Vekt slowly leaned in close. "I know what you are, Gue'vesa," he whispered, filling every syllable with venom. "I have consumed another of your kind, and through that I know and understand you. Where you came from, what evil gave birth to you, the terror that you bring upon us. You are a soulless husk, an enemy of life, an emissary of fear and death. That is why all those around you hate and fear you. That is why now, I must end you." His grip tightened further on Ta'is' neck, and he smiled in satisfaction. He could see the colour of the Human's skin begin to turn blue as the blood beneath became increasingly deoxygenated. He would feel no remorse at this it was a mercy for everyone; explanations and repercussions be damned. What good purpose could such a creature have in this world, besides that of evil? What other person in their right mind could possibly be served by his continued existence...? She could, you damned fool. The thought hit him like a sledgehammer. His grip loosened, just a little, enough to allow Ta'is a quick release of breath. Of course. Had his anger and fear really clouded his reason so much? He let go and stepped back, allowing the Gue'vesa to fall back to the floor, where his legs instantly collapsed beneath him, leaving him sprawled on the floor. It was all about the girl Lei'tan. It made a semblance of sense now.
Her last thoughts as she had pulled away from Vekt were of Ta'is. She needed him. He provided security and comfort from the evil that still lived inside her, suppressed the chaos and darkness within her soul. His curse was, in this case at least, a gift. He looked at the figure of Ta'is on the floor before him. He had first become aware of him when his kindred joined this Cadre in the dying days of the Medusa V campaign. Although they had never spoken, he had always found Ta'is a disturbing presence, a sentiment shared, it would seem, by the others in the cadre. And yet, Ta'is undoubtedly served the Tau Empire and the Greater Good. He was certainly no paragon of compassion or empathy, but he was strong, resourceful, and fair with his subordinates. It seemed that bitterness at his lot in life had not entirely consumed him, if indeed he was capable of such. And now, he was the only beacon of hope for a poor, haunted child under his command. Life was definitely full of surprises. It certainly amounted to more than mere genetics. No, he thought, as he turned to leave. That was just ridiculous. *** "Wait," said Ta'is, as he finally managed to get himself sitting upright against the wall. Vekt stopped in his paces, but didn't turn around. "Yes, Gue'vesa'ui?" "What is happening in this place?" he asked. Only then did the Kroot turn to face him, but he took a few moments to answer. "I cannot see your mind, Gue'vesa, but I feel that I do not need to. All I can tell you is that you are perhaps asking this question to the wrong person, and you know it. Maybe you would be better served in asking your mentor? He at least may have the answers that may or may not set your mind to rest, and you are the one I feel he is most likely to share them with. And so," he went on, "goodbye, Gue'vesa'ui. I shall perhaps see you again shortly." He continued off down the corridor, then paused again and turned back with a smile. "Although should you get some answers, I would be very interested in hearing them." As the sound of his footsteps disappeared up the concrete steps, Ta'is sat back and closed his eyes, wincing a little at the pain in his neck.
The Shaper's words, confusing and disturbing though they may have been, certainly struck a chord. You are a soulless husk, an emissary of fear and death. Quite what it meant though, Ta'is had no idea. Vekt had certainly been right about one thing, though. He had to speak to Vort'as. As much as he respected the Aun, and had always felt he could trust him, this was something too important to leave on trust. This was everything. The Tau'va itself was at stake, and without the Tau'va there would only be chaos. He had put it off too long already. It was now or never. Ta'is couldn't leave the prisoner alone, though. He flicked on his comm again. "Gue'vesa'la Kor'len, report to the bunker immediately." It was quite pleasant, getting outside. The air down there was cold and clammy, and the unpleasant twin smells of blood and final involuntary bowel movements permeated the air. Up here the air was fresh, and a light breeze took the edge off the humidity. The Cadre was assembled. They had their equipment ready, and seemed alert. That meant they were preparing either to leave, or for an attack. He scanned around and saw Vort'as, in animated discussion with Mon'suam. At their feet was a black body bag. It was open at one end, and a blood spattered skull mask leered out at them. Mon'suam walked away as he approached, not giving him so much as a glance. He wasn't expecting the reaction he got when Vort'as turned and saw him. The Aun'el's expression quickly went from a satisfied smile to utter panic and terror. "Ta'is, what are you doing?" he shouted. Faces all around turned to look. "Aun'el, I need to speak with you," said Ta'is, remaining calm. "Get back down there now! I gave you an order!" This was something else. Ta'is had never seen Vort'as like this before. Now his usual cool visage had been stripped away, and he looked as if he thought the end of the world was coming. "Aun'el, I need to know something." Vort'as grabbed him by the arm, and tried to drag him back towards
the hatch. Confused, Ta'is just went along with it. "It can wait, Ta'is!" Ta'is noticed that Vort'as' eyes were constantly darting from him to the hatch, as if a monster might leap out of it at any moment. But that didn't matter. Nothing could be more important than the question. "I just need to know why, Vort'as." They had reached the hatch, and Vort'as seemed ready to throw Ta'is down the steps. "Know what?" Ta'is leaned in close to whisper. Everyone was now watching with concerned expressions. They couldn't be allowed to hear this. *** <<Undesignated bunker, equatorial archipelago on Amethia, six months after Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> Ta'is risked a glance over the lip of the trench, and saw the grenade explode inside the pillbox. The surviving Shas'la that had gone over the top then ran to the hatch, and disappeared into the darkness. Vort'as was up and out of the trench in a heartbeat, and instinctively Ta'is took off after him. To the right, Shas'ui N'sho was also hot on his heels, but Ta'is reached the hatch first and leapt down, taking the steps four at a time and almost falling over the body at the bottom. He didn't even notice if it was a Gue'la or a Shas. He ran on down the corridor, jumping over bodies, following the sounds of gunfire and the rising scream of terror that echoed down the passage. He rounded the final corner, just in time to see the two shots fired. *** "Why did you have to kill Elan'ka?" he asked. The Aun's expression froze, but he had no chance to reply. It was at that moment that Lei'tan screamed. In the next few moments, everything seemed to happen at once. Ta'is and Vort'as had only just turned to look in Lei'tan's direction when the first gunshots could be heard off in the jungle on the sentry line. As well as the sound of Kroot rifles, Ta'is could make out the distinctive crack of lasguns no, hellguns, he corrected
himself being fired in response. His attention was distracted again by the sounds coming from down in the bunker. It was a strange sound, and a difficult one to make out above the sounds of gunfire and Lei'tan's ongoing screams. It was like a sort of deep, drawn-out hiss, but whatever it was it wasn't the sort of sound a Gue'la should be making. Then there was the sound of a pulse weapon being fired once, a brief, guttural scream, and then silence as it was abruptly cut off. He turned to Vort'as. His expression was no longer of panicked hysteria, but had changed instead to one of calm, frozen terror. "Move out," he said, quietly but firmly. "Now." He took Ta'is' arm again and began to lead him quickly away from the hatch. "We are leaving!" he shouted to the Cadre urgently. Mon'suam quickly ran forward. "What about my sister?" she demanded. "I'm not leaving her to rot in this hole, Aun'el!" "Kor'len is still down there as well," said Ta'is. "We must..." "You can't, neither of you!" shouted Vort'as. "It's too late! I doubt even you can stop it now, Ta'is. Now let's go. We fall back to the east." As Vort'as released his grip and ran off to where a few Shas'la were lifting the bodybag up between them, Ta'is saw the Kroot kindred break from the treeline at a sprint. All other thoughts cast aside by the threat of combat, he ran to his team, where Lei'tan was still on her knees, screaming with what could have been fear, pain, anger, or perhaps even all three. Jonas and a few other Gue'vesa were trying unsuccessfully to calm her. Ta'is pushed them aside without a word and grabbed her, pulling her roughly to her feet. The screaming stopped almost the moment he touched her, but he still saw the glint of tears around her eyes. They didn't have time for this, whatever 'this' was. "Time to fight," he said, before roughly pulling her helmet on over her head and shoving her weapon into her arms. She'd certainly have to be stronger than this in battle, whatever may be wrong with her. He stepped back, and cast his gaze across the team. "Move out!" He didn't need to say anything else. They took off at a run after the rest of the Cadre, disappearing into the trees just as the first shots began to pierce the darkness and impact around them.
What surprised Ta'is the most about the retreat was how well ordered it seemed. It was dark, although their helmets' optics helped with that. The terrain was unforgiving. A good proportion of the Cadre were new recruits, and they were being pursued by Storm Troopers, the Imperial elite. Perhaps under the command of the mysterious Inquisition if the prisoner were to be believed, and that only made them even more dangerous. The teams worked in perfect unison, one providing covering fire as another leapfrogged ahead of them. The comms were silent everyone was trained for this. They all knew what they needed to do. Vekt and the surviving Kroot had taken point, fanning out ahead in case the Gue'la had attempted a two-pronged attack. Things didn't proceed perfectly, however. The Storm Troopers were very good, and so despite the Cadre's best efforts a hail of deadly accurate hellgun fire cut through the blackness towards them. Perhaps half a dozen fell dead or wounded, to be picked up or dragged along by their comrades. Lei'tan seemed to be the biggest problem. Admittedly, she seemed to be performing well enough, but Ta'is couldn't help but notice that she was staying as near to him as possible the entire time. Once or twice they practically fell over one another as they ran, she was so close. He tried to push her away, but to little avail. The Gue'la didn't pursue them that far. After only a few minutes the hellgun fire became more sporadic, before tailing off entirely. In the distance, between the trees, Ta'is could make out armoured figures turning back, returning to the base below the ridge. Perhaps the Cadre wasn't important enough to bother with. Perhaps there was something at the bunker that was far more of a threat. The immediate danger having seemingly disappeared, the Cadre continued on quickly but cautiously through the jungle. Soon, Ta'is began to see lights up ahead, and sure enough they eventually emerged into a large clearing, where four Orca dropships sat awaiting their arrival. The rest of the teams began to embark their respective dropships Shas in one, Kroot in another, Gue'vesa in the third. Around the hatch to the fourth stood several Fire Warriors. Their armour was similar to the others' but here and there Ta'is could make out the distinctive markings of the Honour Guard. With them was Vort'as, who was helping to load the body bag onto the craft. Ta'is walked over to meet him, but as he came close, two Honour Guard stepped forwards and lowered their pulse rifles across his path. He thought about pushing through anyway, but decided against it. "Aun'el," he said.
Vort'as looked around, and smiled weakly. "You wish to talk?" he asked. "Then let us talk. You two, get on board and wait. I shan't be long." The two of them walked away into the darkness in silence. It was a while before either of them spoke. "Why?" Ta'is eventually asked. Vort'as paused. Ta'is wondered whether he was going to try and deny it, or talk his way out of it. "It was for the Tau'va, Ta'is," he said eventually. "Please. You must trust me on this." "That's Gue'vesa'ui, Aun'el," said Ta'is. "And no, I can't. I can't take this on trust. Not this. I know of many actions that you have taken that some might consider questionable, but I never questioned it as it was in service of the Tau'va . But this? This I cannot ignore. To kill another Tau is to return to the Mont'au. It's the core of everything, and without it the Empire would fall to chaos." Vort'as nodded solemnly. "I know, and you can be sure I will pay the price for what I did. But you have to understand. I did it to save the Empire from such a fate." "I need to know, Aun'el. Save it from what?" "From the Mont'au. Even now a cancer takes root and grows in our midst, and without that thing," he said, gesturing towards the dropship, and the cargo it now contained, "I don't know what other chance we have. I needed Evans alive to lure it in, and Elan'ka almost killed him." "A cancer?" "Yes. And I do not use that word lightly." "I don't understand," said Ta'is. "I know. Of all the Gue'vesa, you above all are least likely to understand. But it doesn't matter. The fact remains without this, the Mont'au shall once again be brought upon us. I guarantee it. Now," he went on, "I must leave." "Wait," said Ta'is. Aun'el had given him little more than fragments of a greater truth, tied up in riddles and word games, but Ta'is sensed it would have to do. For now, at least. For now, there was a war to fight. But later, he would get all the answers, of that he was certain. There was just one thing left, though.
"What about Lei'tan?" he asked. "I can't take her into battle. She's a liability." "No, Gue'vesa'ui," replied Vort'as. "She'll be far safer with you than she could be anywhere else in the world. This you really must trust me on." He placed a hand on Ta'is' shoulder as he said this, but Ta'is flinched and pushed it away. Vort'as frowned, somewhat sadly, and began to walk away, leaving Ta'is trapped in his own thoughts. "What is that thing you've got in there, anyway?" he called after the retreating Aun. "He's you," said Vort'as. "You, and so much more. Now get to your Orca. You've got a war to fight." Vort'as disappeared into the waiting Orca, the hatch closing quickly behind him. Ta'is took several steps back as moments later the thrusters fired, blasting detritus in all directions and quickly lifting the Orca into the air with a roar. Two of the others followed suit, and shielding his face against the blowing debris, Ta'is made his way to the last one. Inside, the Gue'vesa all gave him the slightly uneasy looks they always did, but Ta'is paid them no attention. He looked around and spotted Lei'tan sitting at the far end with her head in her hands. There was an empty seat beside her. Ta'is sat down in it, fastened the restraints and gently placed a hand on Lei'tan's arm. He noted the look of disapproval on Jonas' face on the other side of the compartment, but merely smiled grimly in return.
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 24 2010, 11:09 PM EPILOGUE "A thousand fibres connect each of us with our fellow Tau, and along those fibres our deeds run as causes which come back to us as effects. Everything we do must be in furtherance of the Tau'va lest we return to Mont'au, the Terror."
Walk-on Character
Shas'o Vior'la Kais. ***
The four Orcas ascended into the night sky, far above the dark canopy of the jungle. All had turned off both their external and internal lights. It was dark, and silent in the vessel's interior. "Gue'vesa'ui," said a voice in the compartment behind her. By the Tau'va, he's talking to me. "Alo'sha'is?" She turned in her seat. Aun'el was right behind her. His armour and clothing were dirty, his eyes anxious. "Yes, Aun'el," she said. Something's wrong, I can tell. "We must hurry, Gue'vesa'ui," said Aun'el. "Our cargo must reach the fleet as soon as possible. I cannot explain to you how vital this is." Alo'sha'is nodded. "I understand, Aun'el." She hesitated. "Aun'el, if you wouldn't mind..." She gestured, as deferentially as possible, for him to sit down. "This may be a little uncomfortable." As Aun'el went to sit back down with his Honour Guard, Alo'sha'is grinned to herself. Although the mood since the Cadre had been picked up had been grim, this was something she could deal with. She made the necessary calculations, and adjusted the Orca's systems for a vertical boost. As she did so, she glanced at the viewscreens. In the darkness below them, one small area was lit by dozens of tiny, flashing lights. She shared a slightly worried look with Ol'he at that, but there were other things demanding their attention for now. The other Orcas broke off as they continued to ascend, one disappearing into the west towards the great jungles that lay beyond the Jade Coast, the other two to the north-east, and the great city of Heaven's Gate. Alo'sha'is, looking back at Aun'el and his Honour Guard once again, got a sinking feeling in her stomach. Something bad had happened down there. Something very bad. "Aun'el," she said, "nothing has happened to..." "No, Gue'vesa'ui," he quickly replied. "Do not worry about that." She nodded, satisfied. She wondered though about the Shas. They had been witness to whatever had transpired down there. Would they be able to put it out of their minds, and face tomorrow's battle with minds clear of distraction? After all, she thought as the Orca suddenly boosted rapidly upwards, ramming them all down into their seats as it accelerated
into the heavens, the battle for Amethia has only just begun.
Well, that's book one finished. I think I'll start posting up book two next week - got a festival this weekend, so might as well leave it until after I get back. Hope you've enjoyed it so far though. C&C, positive or negative, most humbly requested.
Kasrkin
Posted: Aug 31 2010, 07:19 PM Here we are, as promised. The bigger, and IMHO better, book 2 of 3:
BOOK TWO
HEAVEN'S GATE
Walk-on Character PROLOGUE Group: Members Posts: 67 Member No.: 261 Joined: 25-April 10 "Peace? There can be no peace in these times." Lord Commander Solar Macharius. *** "Out on the eastern fringes of the galaxy, the light of the Astronomican is nothing but a faint flicker in the darkness. The hold of the immortal Emperor of Mankind is weak here, and yet still the Imperium defiantly clings on to countless worlds in His name." Alo'sha'is smiled, and drained her drink as Gue'vesa'ui Tarka continued his story. The old man was a veteran of the Imperial Navy, and as such there had been no doubt that he would join the Kor after converting to the Tau'va. Alo'sha'is was glad of that. He
was the guardian of a thousand stories, each grander and more ridiculous than the last. "Consider one such world now," he went on, raising a finger. A few of the other Kor were already chuckling a little. They had all been stood down for the time being, and intended to make the most of it. The war was on the ground now; their work was done. To that end, various strangely coloured beverages had already been consumed Ol'ta for most of the Gue'vesa, Ro'por for the Tau, and that alcohol-based poison for Tarka and they were already seeming to have an effect. The events of several hours ago were now blissfully out of Alo'sha'is' mind. "The people of this world had been lucky until now." There was the hint of a slur to his voice. "As throughout the Imperium and beyond a never-ending war raged, this place had been left virtually untouched, and so it remained a pristine jewel in the crown of humanity." He took another swig from his drink, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "But, the galaxy was changing. The stars themselves were being re-forged in the name of a new master. They had swept across the stars, conquering all in their path. Even the Imperium had not been able to deal with this emerging threat, such was their meteoric rise." There were a few whoops from around the table. A few of them had guessed at who he was talking about. Alo'sha'is smiled to Ol'he, and rolled her eyes. He was as fun as ever, slowly sipping his glass of water and listening silently with little sign of enjoyment. "And so, throughout the countless small towns and cities, across the plains, forests and mountain ranges, the world was silent. They knew of the storm that was about to engulf them. They didn't stand a chance, but still they resisted, and waited for the Tau... s***, wasn't supposed to say that." That was met with a chorus of giggles. "They waited for the attack to come; yeah, that's right. The civvies, though, they didn't want anything to do with any of it, so they either ran away or hid in the sewers and tunnels under the cities. But, being Humans, there were always some who wanted a fight. Regiments from half the galaxy away stood along the city walls. The warrior women of the Emperor knelt in prayer beneath the dome of their great cathedral." "That's not what I've heard they kneel for," whispered one of the Gue'vesa, who promptly slipped off his seat. Tarka ignored him and the attendant laughter and raised his voice. "Their prayers weren't going to be answered though, because the invaders' fleet was unopposed in orbit. Nobody was going to come and save them. All they could do was fight and die, or surrender
and betray their Emperor. Most of the people would have happily given up, but without the means to defy their masters all they could do was hide. But that's the way things are now. As the Imperium enters its forty-second millennium, nowhere can or will be sheltered from the escalating bloodshed." The table had suddenly gone silent. They all knew now what world he was talking about. "The millions of innocent people of this world were to suffer because of the stubborn pride of their leaders, and the ruthless ambition of their enemies. Finally, but perhaps inevitably, war had come to Amethia."
Kasrkin
Posted: Sep 2 2010, 01:15 AM CHAPTER ONE "The question of the timing of the commencement of hostilities is one upon which you must meditate most deeply. Once your decision is arrived at, it must be pursued with the utmost energy."
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Shas'o Dal'yth Por'j'uk. ***
The sun had not yet risen on Heaven's Gate when the order to attack was finally given. For many hours Shas'el Doran'sha'is had waited with the rest of the Shas, hoping that the Gue'la of this city would surrender peacefully. They hadn't an outcome as inevitable as it was depressing. And so, in the twilight before dawn, the war machine of the Tau Empire was moving. The vast mechanised formation raced swiftly over the farmland west of the great city. In the near distance Doran'sha'is could make out the huge dark mass of Heaven's Gate; for all its supposed beauty it was right now a menacingly intimidating shape against the darkened sky. Doran'sha'is soared onwards in her battlesuit, surrounded on all sides by thousands of her comrades. The comms were virtually silent. Nobody needed to be told what to do at this stage. In the front of the line were the grav-tanks. Many hundreds of
Hammerheads, Devilfish and other lighter vehicles sped forwards, skimming swiftly across the fields, rapidly closing in on the first line of defence on the city's western walls, while around them, swarming like insects were thousands of Mal'kor. It was an inspiring sight, and a rare one. Never before had the Mal'kor fought alongside the Shas of Ya'monat in such numbers. A warning light on her HUD came on and she took a deep breath they would soon be in range of the defenders' artillery. The success or failure of the attack would now depend upon Kor'o Nan'eldi and the Tau fleet in orbit. Right on cue, a new reading made her look up suddenly. In her viewscreen, Doran'sha'is could see hundreds of tiny lights in the sky, dancing and spiralling gracefully around one another as they descended rapidly towards the city: low-yield, precision-guided missiles from the fleet, targeted on key positions along the Gue'la defences. The first flashes of artillery fire from the defenders' positions were suddenly eclipsed as the missiles struck, lighting up the entire western wall in countless explosions. Beyond the walls further explosions blossomed, high on the imposing bulk of the Adamantine Hill. After the brief moments of chaos, all was quiet the Imperial guns seemed to have fallen silent, for the moment at least and Doran'sha'is breathed a deep sigh of relief that the Shas'ar'tol had listened to her pleas for restraint. *** <<Tau command ship Dal'yth Lar'shi Alo'va Nan'eldi, high orbit over Amethia, six months after Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> "... they are dug in well. A massed city-wide bombardment would allow us to sweep them aside with minimal casualties to our forces." Everyone was silent for a few moments after the Shas'o spoke. All eyes were focused on the holographic projection of Heaven's Gate in the centre of the room. After the visual demonstration, there wasn't really much left of it. Doran'sha'is, sitting in the darkness in the back row, knew why they would not speak. Shas'o Vior'la Kais Mont'da was a well respected, even slightly feared figure. He had fought in perhaps the hardest campaign of the third sphere expansion; the colonisation of Fi'rios, and the genocidal war against its native Or'es'la population. He was certainly a changed person now, by all
accounts. Cold and ruthless was how Doran'sha'is would have described him. And now he had been placed in charge of the Coalition that would take Amethia, and finally put an end to the centuries-long war that had blighted the Brightstone Gate. "No." Her voice cut through the silence like a knife. All eyes turned to her. "Shas'el Doran'sha'is," he said, upon catching her eye. "You have an objection." "Yes," she replied. "I do. With respect, Shas'o, such a measure is recklessly excessive. We are not fighting against mindless barbarians here. These are Gue'la." She noticed there a few sarcastic murmurings amongst some of the others in the room, but decided to ignore them for now. "They can be brought into the light of the Tau'va. Bombing their cities into oblivion, slaughtering who knows how many civilians in the process, is hardly likely to endear them to us." Everyone looked back towards Mont'da, whose expression did not change. "I see," he said after a few uncomfortable moments. "Your objections will be taken under advisement." Doran'sha'is knew what that meant. "These aren't the Or'es'la. You can't do this." Again, she thought. You can't do this again. Last time they had made a similar move it had been hailed as a glorious symbol of the rising power of the Tau Empire, and it was generally still remembered as such. Most people didn't think about the price, though. Most weren't even aware there had even been a price. "You're not on Fi'rios anymore," she finished angrily. "Brothers and sisters, please," said another voice. A figure stepped forwards into the light, clothed in the distinctive robes of the Aun, and Doran'sha'is smiled as she saw the face of Aun'el. "We understand your concerns, Doran'sha'is, but you do not have the experience in these matters of high command." Doran'sha'is' heart sank, before Aun'el went on. "However, I do feel that perhaps the Por should be consulted on this before any drastic measures are taken." He then paused, and looked around. "Unless there are any objections, of course?" There weren't. Of course there weren't. Doran'sha'is smiled. *** Suddenly, as if acting with one mind, the entire formation swung smoothly to the right, closing in rapidly on the southern end of the walls. As they came into range, the Hammerheads opened fire together in practically perfect sync. The sight and sound of
hundreds of railguns firing simultaneously was truly awe-inspiring, no matter how many times Doran'sha'is saw it, and her heart raced even faster as she saw the shots slam into the walls, blasting out huge chunks of rubble and clouds of dust. The defenders, no doubt shaken by the missile strike just moments earlier, only managed a few sporadic volleys of return fire. Doran'sha'is saw dozens of Hammerheads get hit, several critically so. One was struck dead-on by a Gue'la missile, and there was an almighty explosion as the tank literally blew apart, scattering vehicle and crew alike over the fields. Another was no less spectacular, the shot blowing off the right-side engine and sending the vehicle spinning violently to the ground. It bounced up again, skimming and rolling across the earth and smashing through hedgerows before it eventually halted, having gouged out a deep scar in the soil. But then Doran'sha'is was rushing ahead of it, and there was no time to look back. She never found out if there were any survivors. The rest of the Hammerhead formation slowed as it reached the walls, firing off almost continuously at close range, hammering relentlessly at the fortified walls of Heaven's Gate. It was now time. As they came up behind the Hammerheads, the battlesuits and the rest of the vehicles launched themselves up and over the walls. The battlesuits, now directly above the defenders, angled their weapons straight down and unleashed a devastating barrage of fire. A torrent of missiles and burning plasma rained down upon the Gue'la. Lasgun and heavy weapons fire was quickly trained on them, but they kept moving, soaring above the streets, constantly bombarding the enemy troops below. Quickly glancing away from the scenes of chaos below her, she looked back at the wall. It was an incredible sight. All along the line the Tau were breaking through, and many hundreds of Devilfish were even now emptying their passengers into the streets. Everywhere the Gue'la were running, dying or throwing down their weapons and trying to surrender. She descended, touching down lightly in the street. The once white flagstones were now charred black; cracked and hissing with the heat of dozens of plasma rounds. All around, the infantry were already moving forwards, pressing on through the streets. Doran'sha'is allowed herself a few moments. Her first thought was that it had been an incredible success so far. If anything, it had been too easy, she thought as she looked down at the ground. A few dead Gue'la soldiers lay, burnt and dismembered. Just about enough of their uniform remained for her to recognise them as members of the Amethian Planetary Defence Force. Definitely way too easy. In spite of herself, she was rather disappointed. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Sep 2 2010, 10:47 PM Inquisitor Regan sat at his desk, his face impassive as he listened to the news Raynor was reading out. All the while, he could hear the constant muffled rumble of battle in the city outside. "...in moments. It was complete chaos. I can't imagine what Corus was thinking, placing the PDF on the front lines like that. Some of us have our suspicions, Regan, and feel that perhaps you should..." Regan quickly raised a hand. "I know what you're going to say, Raynor," he said, taking care to speak with just the right amount of defeatism and melancholy. What he had just decided to do would need to look spontaneous. "It doesn't matter. If Corus has indeed betrayed us, then there is little we can do. It is perhaps already too late. Once things start to slide, they have a certain... momentum." He looked up at Raynor, and smiled. He had known the man for many decades, and the poor soul was now little more than a shadow of his former self. Seventy un-enhanced years, now, thought Regan, and so much good work done in the name of the Emperor. It was only a shame he did not have many more good years to do more. Still, he would be rewarded when this was all over; there was no doubt of that. "In that case, what are your orders?" asked Raynor. "We are going outside. I must address the troops." He looked at the others again as he stood up, and once again put on the face of sad resignation. Perhaps Raynor would be able to see through it, but he wouldn't say anything. They all nodded, seemingly confused and worried in equal measure. He knew what they would be thinking. By now they knew all too well that 'addressing the troops' in Regan's vocabulary usually meant 'decimation'. Or perhaps he had spoken in just the right way to make them think that perhaps he was going to tell them to just surrender or something. It didn't matter. What mattered was that they reacted with sufficient surprise and horror when it actually happened. As they walked through the corridors below the Arbites precinct, he turned once again to Raynor. "Still no word from the special
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detachment?" he asked. "No, sir. Not since that last message from Captain Hagen." Regan nodded solemnly. Several hours ago they had received the final transmission from the Storm Troopers on the island. There had been the sounds of gunfire, and Hagen saying they had met unexpected resistance and then nothing. The transmission had been abruptly cut off, and the worst thing was that there was no way of knowing why. Had the Tau done it? They should have been neutralised long before Hagen showed up, and that only left one other possibility. A couple of guards swung the last set of doors open in front of Regan and his entourage, and they strode out into the half-light of dawn. Out in the courtyard, hundreds of troopers stood in parade formation. Heads turned towards him briefly as the doors opened, then quickly back, their faces quickly having morphed into expressions of mute terror. It was good to know your reputation preceded you, he thought. It saved a lot of work. He took a few moments to take in the scene, and give everyone a chance to have a good look at him. Ignoring the now clearly audible sounds of battle that were roaring across the western city, he strode back and forth in front of the first line of Planetary Defence Force troops. Occasionally he would stop and give one a quick close-up appraisal before moving on. Eventually though he stopped, and walked up to Raynor. He took his arm, and led him to the front of the assembled soldiers. "I look at you now," he shouted to his audience, "and what do I see? Incompetents. Weaklings. Cowards. You might as well be damned heretics!" The last word was practically a scream. "But look at Raynor here," he said, lowering his voice to a friendlier tone. "I don't care to remember how many years I have had this man at my side; how many xenos, heretics, mutants and traitors we have purged together in the Emperor's name. How many of your lives we saved while you sat here on this world, gorging yourselves on the sloth and decadence of peace. Well, now it is up to you! Now that history has turned against your happy existence, will you take your turn to serve the Emperor?" He stopped, and unholstered his laspistol, before walking forwards to a man in the front row. "You!" he shouted, raising the pistol to point directly at a point between the man's eyes. "Do you wish to serve the Emperor?" "Yes, sir!" came the immediate, terrified reply. "Good," said Regan with satisfaction, lowering the weapon. "Because any man, woman or child in this city, soldier or civilian, who does not do his duty, who no longer serves the Emperor..." He
let that last sentence hang for a moment, and then suddenly span, took aim and fired, all in a split-second. Raynor's head exploded instantly as the las-bolt impacted, spraying blood across the wall behind him. His body folded up neatly, falling first to its knees then slumping forwards onto the concrete. He looked around. His entourage all stood rigid with terror. He thought he had actually heard one or two yelps from them when the shot was fired. That was good. That would help the troops' reaction. "He was old," he said loudly, turning back to the troops. "He had done much for the Imperium, but his body and mind were becoming frail, and they were no longer of use to me nor the Emperor. Think carefully on that fact. If I will do this to an endlessly faithful, loyal servant of the Emperor, a man who I feel I could have called my friend, when he was no longer of use, then think of what I shall do to you should you fail in your duty. You, who in my eyes are little better than the xeno filth that even now assails this city; remember that. Now go war calls to you all. Do not be found wanting!" Nobody else in the courtyard moved for a few moments, before several officers finally snapped out of whatever trance they were in and began hesitantly shouting out orders. The gates were soon opened, and the troops began marching out awkwardly. Regan watched them go dispassionately. With any luck, and knowing soldiers, this story would be all over the city by noon, hopefully with plenty of exaggerations. When the last of them was gone, and the great, heavy gates had been shut behind them, he turned and walked towards his servants, stepping casually over the corpse of Raynor on the way. "One of you, have my armour prepared," he said. "My presence is clearly required on the front line. And find Corus, if he hasn't fled yet. I don't care what state he's in when I see him." They hurried away into the building as if fleeing before the angel of death himself. Finding himself alone, Regan turned back to the body of Raynor. He would be rewarded for his service; that was definitely true. How could the Emperor fail to properly reward such an endlessly faithful servant? But that was no great comfort right now. Regan hated himself for it, he really did. But with great power came great responsibility. Sometimes such responsibility meant you had to be a complete bastard. An Inquisitor certainly couldn't afford the luxury of having friends.
*** <<Medusa IV, Hive Corinth, two hundred and fifty years before Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> Regan shrugged. "You know I could get into trouble for this, Karl? This is the third time this month. The Inquisitor's not going to be happy if he finds out." "I know, I know, and I'm really grateful to you, it's just that... well, you know how it is. Business has been a little slow lately, and what with another little 'un on the way and everything, a man's got to start digging in and earning some extra cash. I'm sure the Emperor could understand that." Regan sighed. He got on well with Karl. Hell, he got on well with most of the civilians around here. Occasionally he helped them cut a few corners, like not attending prayers once or twice a month so they could put in some extra hours of work, but where was the harm in that? Inquisitor Baptiste had always said that once you let things go, even just a little bit, heresy and chaos were just around the corner. But she was living in an ivory tower. She didn't understand the way things worked down here on the ground, in the thick of it. People had actual lives to live. Sometimes you had to be practical. "Fine. But no more, not for a while at any rate. If the wrong people start to notice things..." "Don't worry Regan, I've got your back," said Karl cheerfully, slapping him heartily on it to drive the point home. "You're a good friend." ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Sep 4 2010, 01:26 AM "Incoming!" Doran'sha'is fired her jetpack and took to the air, followed quickly by Sen'tei and the others. Over a dozen Gue'la missiles streaked in, impacting in the rubble where they had stood just moments before.
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"I need targets!" she shouted with frustration into her comm. Looking up, she saw through the smoke and dust a squadron of Tetras skimming low over the rooftops before. Moments later, her HUD was lit up by markerlight signals and the team opened fire together into the grey haze. There was no time to inspect the results, though. They were needed in the next street over. The Tau infantry were pinned down by Gue'la armour, and were in desperate need of assistance. There seemed to be a similar story all along the battlefront. It seemed the Gue'la had finally found the courage to fight, despite the obvious futility of their position. She patched her comm into the local signal. "Where did those Tetras go? Do we have markerlight cover down there?" "I don't think so, Shas'el," came a Shas'ui's reply. It was barely audible over the ambient din of battle. "Things are getting pretty bad down here. The Gue'la aren't giving us any breathing room." And they were right, she thought as she crested the rooftop. Down in the broad street, hiding behind the wreckage of downed transports, in rubble-strewn craters and in the doorways of already gutted buildings were dozens, hundreds of Shas and Gue'vesa, pinned down by relentless heavy weapon fire. It was blind firing, though, and as such wildly inaccurate. Through the murk that now filled the streets, the Gue'la's vision was even worse than the Tau's. Even so, dozens of corpses from both sides littered the ground. The once gleaming white streets of Heaven's Gate now ran with the blood of both races. "Sen'tei," she said, "you take the others over and around, drop down and hit them up close from the rear. I'll provide a diversion. Go." She heard the sound of jetpacks firing as Sen'tei and the rest of the battlesuits changed direction and headed off across the rooftops. She took a deep breath and killed the thrust of her jetpack, dropping quickly down several stories into the street below, some distance ahead of the infantry. She was close enough here to see and be seen by the enemy gunners. She must have surprised the Gue'la, as it took a few moments for them to train their weapons on her. It was just enough time for her to fire off a few rounds, which impacted harmlessly against their front armour. Heavy bolters came first, the first couple of rounds hitting and blowing off her missile pod before she had time to jump again. More rounds hit her as she took to the air, causing her to ascend
erratically, inadvertently launching herself towards the nearby building. She managed to right herself just in time, spinning in mid-air and gaining purchase on the stony surface. The Gue'la had her firmly in their sights now, so desperately she half-jumped, halfran up the side of the building as shells blew the wall into dust just below her. She reached a statue protruding from the fourth floor and kicked off, feeling the marble crack as she launched herself away from the wall and across the street. A moment later the same statue was vaporised by a direct hit from a lascannon, but that was the last shot fired in her direction. Down below she could briefly see the explosions as Sen'tei's team tore through the Gue'la tanks, just before she smashed through the huge plate glass window on the opposite side of the street. As the glass shattered and fell in shards around her, she tried to right herself and attempt a landing. She realised though too late that her battlesuit had taken too much damage and crashed onto the tiled floor, throwing up sparks as she tumbled over and over. She eventually crashed through an ornamental water feature, scattering stone and water across the floor, before slowly skidding to a halt near the large window opposite. Doran'sha'is lay still for a few moments as the battlesuit's left leg occasionally spasmed involuntarily, and winced in pain. Shock absorbers could only do so much, after all. She remained there for a few moments, listening to the sounds of battle filtering in from the streets outside, savouring this brief moment of peace. "Sen'tei? Report," she said eventually. Over the comm there was nothing but silence. With just a hint of sadness, she realised that her battlesuit was dying, and as if to confirm this her HUD flickered and went dark. Suddenly hit by a terrifying sense of claustrophobia, she struggled with what was left of its systems and was able to open the front hatch. The various restraints and neural connectors automatically released, and she tumbled out onto the floor. Every part of her body now seemed to ache. She tried to stand up, but slipped in the water that was now running freely across the tiles and fell down heavily. She tried again, this time using her stricken battlesuit as support, and was eventually able to get herself standing more or less upright. Leaning against the battlesuit, she looked around at the interior of the building she now found herself in. At either end of the room were two huge plate glass windows that made up the entirety of both walls. One was now largely smashed, and lay in pieces on the tiled floor. The whole place was very bare black and white chequered tiles on the floor, a bare white ceiling and walls, and the remains of an elegantly simple fountain in the centre of the floor from which water still bubbled up erratically. It was very plain and
simple, quite beautiful in its simplicity, unlike most other Imperial architecture she had seen in her lifetime, which she had found overly ostentatious and garish. At last she turned to the other window, which was still intact. Now there was a fine view. From this vantage point, one could see most of the city spread out, sloping gently away down to the water several kilometres distant. The massive bridge that linked the eastern and western sides of the city across the strait was plainly visible at this distance. It sparkled like a jewel in the mid-morning sun. On the eastern side, she could just about make out the gentle rise of the Collis Caelestialis, although the cables of the space elevator at its summit were not visible at this distance. Finally, though it was little more than a mere dot on the horizon from here, the dome of the Sancta Rosaria rose from the surrounding buildings, standing tall and proud over the eastern limits of the city. It was incredible to think that Shas'o Mont'da would stoop to such wanton destruction of this place. It was true, that without a massive bombardment of the western side of the city their AA defences would prevent air support from aiding the Tau attack. Instead, they would have to simply continue grinding forwards slowly against the Imperial defences, but it was a price they would have to pay for the hearts and minds of the Gue'la of Amethia, one that would have to be paid in the blood of the Shas. A few brief flashes on the eastern side of the city suddenly made her take notice. As she looked closer, she could just make out many dozens of black specks against the clear blue sky, descending upon the city. The second arm of the attack was moving in. Thankfully the Imperials had concentrated almost all of their AA defences on the Adamantine Hill, far from the forces that were now dropping into the eastern districts. Hopefully the initial attack against the west had drawn off enough Gue'la troops to allow them to land largely unhindered. Also, sure enough, down in the straits she could see the third attack wave coming in. Skimming low to avoid ground fire, across the waves rushed dozens of what she knew would be Tau Orcas, racing in to trap the western Gue'la in a crossfire. It had all been planned out carefully these past days, and it was something of a joy now to see everything unfolding so smoothly. She unholstered her pulse pistol, and limped off quickly towards the stairs. ***
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"The Greater Good means nothing to you, and so you are nothing to me."
Kasrkin
Posted: Sep 5 2010, 01:26 AM A few hours later, Doran'sha'is found herself pausing briefly in the shade of an alleyway. The sun had almost reached its peak in the sky by the time the Imperial resistance around the south-western docks had been eliminated. Sporadic sounds of pulse rifle fire echoed around the nearby streets as the last remaining die-hards were hunted down.
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The Gue'la's stubborn resilience was at times simply incredible, thought Doran'sha'is. They were such an erratic race, though. Some would scream and flee at the first sign of battle; others would rather die than yield a single metre of ground to their enemies, fighting to the death in the most hopeless of circumstances. Such as those they faced now. With a nod to the Shas'ui whose team she had temporarily attached herself to she holstered her pulse pistol and trotted out into the open square to a nearby water fountain to cool off. That was what being raised on Ya'monat did to you you just couldn't handle the heat of a normal world such as Amethia. She carefully picked her way across the carpet of mangled Gue'la corpses that covered the flagstones, noting the gentle splashes of blood she caused with each cautious step. Blank, lifeless eyes gazed up blindly at her passing. When she reached it, she removed her helmet and placed it beside her on the rim of the fountain, then bent over to splash some water onto her face. She noticed as she did so the spattered red stains on her hand. Specks of it ran up her arm and across her torso. She took a deep breath, and tried to stamp out the memory, still fresh in her mind. It had been an... interesting few hours. One particularly stubborn Gue'la sniper had holed up in an apartment block, and had been holding up the advance. Doran'sha'is had gone in by herself to flush him out. It would have been more sensible to wait for backup, but she was impatient. Her blood was up. She had eventually found him at a window on the third floor after a short search, but everything after that was a mess in her mind. She remembered the low click of her pistol as she pulled the trigger, and the brief sense of panic. She felt the snap of his leg as she ran forwards and kicked him in the shin even as he raised his own
weapon to fire; the dull, wet thumps as the butt of her pistol was slammed down into his face again and again, even after he had slipped into unconsciousness. This isn't right, she thought. This isn't who we are supposed to be. Gue'la behave like that in battle, not us. Not me. She shuddered, and hurriedly splashed the icy cold water onto her face. It was good. It helped to cool some of the fire still within her. "Shas'el?" She turned at the voice, and standing before her were a few dozen Fire Warriors, dressed in the black armour of Ya'monat. "What is it, Run'ya?" she asked the Shas'ui at the front. "Found this lot a couple of streets over. Thought you might want to be seeing them," he replied, before wandering off again, his belts of tools and various trinkets swinging and clinking together as he headed towards a grounded Hammerhead with a decidedly determined look on his face. She turned back to the assembled Fire Warriors. The two Shas'ui team leaders stepped forwards and removed their helmets, revealing the familiar faces of N'sho and Mon'suam. Doran'sha'is did not feel any sense of relief at their meeting now though. Just looking at their expressions she could sense that something wasn't right. "What's wrong?" she asked cautiously. N'sho opened his mouth to speak, but a cold look from Mon'suam silenced him, and she then stepped forwards, a harsh look on her face. Doran'sha'is wasn't entirely surprised. Mon'suam carried far too much anger with her, especially in recent months, although it was strange to see it projected against N'sho, who had perhaps been Mon'suam's closest friend. "My sister is dead," she said coldly. For the next few moments there was a chilly silence. Doran'sha'is glanced at N'sho, and realisation dawned. N'sho was Elan'ka's team leader. She was his responsibility, and now Mon'suam's sister was dead under his command. Especially after what had happened on Medusa V, this could be very bad for everyone involved. "I am sorry, Shas'ui," she said eventually. There was little else she
could say under the circumstances. "Right," replied Mon'suam, her voice near-brimming with resentment. Their gazes remained locked for a few moments, before Doran'sha'is decided to change the subject. Trying to console Mon'suam over this would be like trying to reason with an O'res'la. "Where are Ta'is' and Jonas' teams?" "Their transport went down in the straits," said Mon'suam, her bitter tones barely concealing what seemed to Doran'sha'is to be a sense of smugness. "All... all of them?" There would have been two dozen Gue'vesa Fire Warriors in that transport; the Cadre's entire contingent. Their sacrifice would be noted, as tragically mundane as it might have been. "A terrible tragedy," Mon'suam went on. "Indeed," Doran'sha'is said mournfully. "This must be hard for you, Shas'el," said Mon'suam. "After all, I know how much you simply love your Gue'vesa." That was enough. Dead sister or not, she would not allow that. She stepped forwards, close enough to feel Mon'suam's breath on her face. "Don't push me, Mon'suam," she whispered. "By the Tau'va, if you continue down this path it will not end well for you. Your anger will be the ruin of you and those around you. I can assure you of that." Mon'suam stepped back. "I'll bear that in mind," she said, then raised a finger to her face. "You've got red on you, Shas'el," she said. She quickly raised a hand to wipe off the Gue'la blood. "Be very careful," she said, but noticed that Mon'suam was no longer listening. Along with everyone else, she was now staring at the sky. Sure enough, squinting against the sunlight, Doran'sha'is could make out the twirling white trails of missiles descending upon the city. That was strange the next missile strike was not scheduled for another hour or so. They all stood captivated for a few moments, baffled and awed in equal measure. Regardless, the missiles continued to fall planetward in spite of any timetables, and when they struck, the world for Doran'sha'is went a
blinding white. Together, the Fire Warriors instinctively threw themselves face-first to the ground amongst the blood and charred flesh, hands clamped over their ears as the din of the explosions roared through them. Doran'sha'is didn't duck, didn't flinch she stood her ground, watching the explosions blossom high across the Adamantine Hill and in the surrounding city, throwing huge billowing mushroom clouds into the sky. This was no precision strike, that was for sure. The force of the explosions reached the docks, and there was a second wall of noise as the shockwave rushed past. Even this far from the nearest impact, which was at least a few kilometres away, the effect was incredible. In every building surrounding the square, the windows shattered, exploding outwards and showering the cowering Tau with glass. The ground shook so violently that Doran'sha'is was thrown from her feet, landing heavily and hitting her head against the armoured torso of a fallen Gue'la. *** <<Medusa V, Edethor region, Tau barracks facility on Charybdis Crest, fifteen days before Final Evacuation>> All eyes were focused on the bank of screens at the front of the room. Doran'sha'is could feel the excitement in the air. It was electric. Never before had the Tau Empire attempted something this daring. It would be a lesson in humility for the Gue'la Imperium, one they would not soon forget. "Impact in forty seconds," said the Por's voice on the live feed. The screens showed a series of desolate landscapes, which Doran'sha'is knew to be the north-western slopes of Raffaelo's Spine. The centremost screens showed, in the midst of this frigid wasteland, the imposing presence of Ice Station Alpha, one of the greatest threats to the Tau's operations on the Spine, and indeed the entire planet. "Twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen..." The Por's crackled voice was all that could be heard in the otherwise dead silence of hundreds of individuals collectively holding their breaths. One of the camera drones was scanning the sky, and there were awed gasps when it found what it was searching for. The Hammer. It lit up the sky like the light of the Tau'va. A vast accretion of rock, ice and metal that shone with the brightness of a thousand stars. A huge joint operation between the Kor and Fio had seen it dragged from its usual orbit around Medusa, and it would now be hurled against the enemies of the Empire with the
righteous fury of the Tau'va. The orbital defences of Ice Station Alpha went online, and dozens of laser and missile batteries hammered in vain at the incoming juggernaut. The Por had stopped in mid-countdown when the Hammer had come into view, so when it finally struck its target it did so in what seemed like a tranquil silence. But when it hit, everyone jumped and cheered with excitement and joy. Every screen went white, and almost immediately nearly half of them flickered and went blank, displaying the Por'hui's "technical fault" logo. On the others, the glare subsided quickly to reveal perhaps the most incredible scene of devastation Doran'sha'is had ever seen. Where once a huge military complex had been, there was now nothing, just a huge, growing mushroom cloud, and a spreading shockwave that knocked out yet more camera drones for kilometres in every direction. The cheers grew to a crescendo of near-deafening levels. Doran'sha'is cheered with them. The Tau had lost much in this war already, but this day, even if just for a moment, it was possible to forget about all the hardship and simply revel in the victory. Future generations would be taught about this moment; the day the Empire had shown the galaxy its strength. They had arrived, and after this there would be no stopping the rise of the Tau. Doran'sha'is would be able to say that she was here to witness it all. Right now, there was nowhere else in the universe she would rather be. *** She came to her senses just as a great rolling wave of dust and smoke billowed over them, and they were plunged into a dark, grey-brown murk. Moments later, above the dying roar, Doran'sha'is could hear crashes as masonry and shrapnel began to rain down into the streets. There were screams. Eventually the chaos subsided. The thick clouds began to drift away on the strong coastal breeze, and Doran'sha'is looked around. Everywhere, Fire Warriors were picking themselves up unsteadily, like a Por sea merchant trying to find her land legs. There were shouts, and more agonised screams, the occasional far off crash as a building collapsed, but no more gunfire could be heard. There was, just for a moment, peace in Heaven's Gate. As she got to her feet, she saw a black Crisis battlesuit advancing
across the square towards her. "Shas'el," it said, and she recognised the voice of Shas'vre Sen'tei. "What, by the Mont'au, was that?" she screamed in return. "A few moments ago, I received a transmission," said Sen'tei, with complete calmness despite the devastation all around. "It seems that Shas'o Mont'da ordered an intensive bombardment of the Gue'la positions. We were also apparently informed approximately eight minutes ago, but there have evidently been some unsourced difficulties in communications." Doran'sha'is turned and looked up. Through the thinning clouds of dust the ominous bulk of the Adamantine Hill was visible. The mushroom clouds still hung in the air above the shattered, burning Gue'la defences. And that was not all. How much damage to the city had been done? How many civilians had been killed? Anything short of a plasteel bunker would have been annihilated by an attack of that magnitude. Their underground shelters would mean nothing. Shas'o Mont'da had punished this city for its resilience, and now the Gue'la of Amethia would hate the Tau Empire forever. But still, regardless of all that, Doran'sha'is was still a Shas, and there was only one thing to do in this situation. "Get the Fio on the comm," she said grimly. "Tell them to get me a new battlesuit. Let's finish this." ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Sep 6 2010, 01:08 AM The bunker door had only just slammed shut behind Regan when the missiles hit. There were a series of seemingly far-off explosions, although it was hard to tell with the sound having been muffled by the bunker's insulated walls. All around Regan men and women stood and nervously watched the ceiling, and listened intently. Over the distant roars, there was the constant muffled thumping as those left outside pounded desperately on the bunker door.
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Then the shockwave hit, and as it rolled over the bunker everyone else was thrown to the floor. Regan, in his powered armour, remained standing. He could see that everyone else was screaming, and wasn't surprised. The deafening concussive rumble was so loud it was painful. The bunker shook so violently it felt like your heart would explode in your chest. And that was how it felt to Regan. To an unenhanced human... But he did not let any of the pain or fear show. He could not display any sign of weakness in front of these soldiers, but that wasn't the only reason. They were surrounded, outgunned, had little hope of further reinforcements, and were aided now only by an ill-equipped militia and those few off-world forces that had managed to reach them before the noose tightened. He had faced exactly these odds before, and against a foe far more terrifying than these xenos that assailed them now. *** <<Medusa IV, Hive Artemis, two hundred and forty nine years before Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> Regan gripped his lasgun tightly, and flinched as another explosion erupted close by, showering him with debris. He finally managed to gather the courage to raise his head over the parapet, and immediately almost wished he hadn't. As far as the eye could see, the enemy were advancing. Beneath the crimson skies, thousands upon thousands of men, a legion the likes of which Regan had never seen, moved relentlessly forward towards the Hive. They were under constant bombardment from the artillery batteries of Hive Artemis, but for every one that fell it seemed that there were another ten, or hundred even, to take their place. The host of the Dark Gods was a humbling sight; how could the Emperor's chosen few hope to stand against it? But stand they must. Whispering a prayer under his breath, he checked his lasgun one last time, as he had been taught to do. His first battle; what greater test of his devotion to the Emperor could he have envisaged? The enemy was soon upon them. They charged forwards in great waves, only to be cut down by the defenders' massed firepower. Regan allowed himself to hope for just a moment that they could hold them off like this indefinitely, until the Emperor granted them
reinforcements. But it was only for a moment. They would eventually be overrun, and then, all that could be hoped for was that one might take as many of them with him as possible before the end came. Hour after hour the futile charges came forth, but each time they came a little closer. Ammo would be running short, nerves would be fraying, lucky shots would be picking off the defenders one by one. It was then that Regan heard the words he had been dreading: "Militia, on your feet!" Regan stood, as did dozens of others around him, and raised his rifle. "On my command," shouted the sergeant, and every muscle in Regan's body seemed to tense. Ahead, at the base of the hill, thousands of screaming fanatics lunged onwards towards them. They were now close enough to see clearly there was something strangely inhuman about them. To either side the other men and women of the People's Militia looked around nervously, holding their lasguns up awkwardly like they had never even touched one before today. It occurred to Regan that perhaps they hadn't. "FIRE!" And the tension was broken. Regan squeezed the trigger, and all along the line there was the loudest, sharpest sound Regan had heard; the crack of thousands of lasguns being fired simultaneously. More cultists fell, and still they came on. Regan was dimly aware of shots being fired towards them, and he noticed out of the corner of his eye that some of those to either side had either fallen or fled. But he kept firing again and again until at last the first heretic leapt over the parapet, screaming heretical praises to its dark masters. Regan looked up into his mad, glaring eyes, and for the briefest moment was struck by a sense of recognition. Still operating on little more than adrenaline, he swung his lasgun up and the man's head exploded as the bolt impacted. Blood and shredded flesh splattered across Regan as the body landed on top of him, knocking him to the floor. Pushing the body aside, he jumped back to his feet, fear now replaced by a mad, blind, adrenaline-fuelled fury. Tears ran down his cheeks as he stepped forward into position behind the barricade.
What he saw next left him not relieved, but almost disappointed. On the left the Imperial counterattack had begun, and armoured units had sallied forth from the defences and smashed deep into the enemy's flank. Their fanatical zeal had quickly evaporated, and even now they were fleeing back into the wastes. Screaming prayers to the Emperor, Regan took aim and fired, but suddenly he found that his strength had left him, and his heart wasn't in the fight anymore. It couldn't be, not after what he might have just seen. His face had been obscured in the smoke and dust, scarred, pierced and tattooed almost beyond recognition, but in that face Regan thought he had seen the face of a friend. *** The noise died away soon enough. Regan looked down at the cowering guardsmen on the floor, who were sobbing and whimpering. It was pathetic. He reached down and grabbed the nearest one by the scruff of the neck and hauled him to his feet. It was a young boy, still in his early teens by the looks of him. "Are you afraid of them, boy?" he demanded, mouthing every word carefully. The boy was probably deaf after the experience. He nodded, and tears began to form at the corners of his eyes. "More afraid than you are of me?" The boy's face was a picture of pained indecision as he struggled to form an answer. Regan frowned, and then with a flick of the wrist the boy was thrown across the room. There was an unpleasant crunch as his head connected with the plascrete, followed by a shocked silence from the others. That was never a good sign, Regan thought. If your own troops feared the enemy more than you, then who did you expect them to listen to? If they paid more attention to enemy fire than your orders, you might as well surrender there and then and save everyone a lot of effort. But still, things weren't right. The xenos weren't acting according to spec. They didn't unleash that kind of a bombardment against a civilian area, not if they wanted to keep the locals on side afterwards. They were getting desperate when they should have had no reason to be. Regan felt the first glimmers of hope; perhaps reinforcements were on the way? Someone had opened the bunker door, but the daylight didn't flood in as expected. There was just a thick, choking cloud of smoke and dust. Forcing his way through the terrified mob, Regan stepped out
into the streets. Or what was left of them. The ground was nothing but a carpet of rubble, stretching off into the murk in all directions. "What do we do now, sir?" asked a lieutenant nervously. "We can't fight here," replied Regan. "We have to fall back to the Adamantine Hill. Our defensive positions there will have survived." He turned to face what he thought was seaward. The xenos were no doubt moving units forward already to exploit the devastation and confusion in the Imperial ranks. "There we shall make our stand. Any who run, shall die. No exceptions, no excuses. We shall stand and fight to the last as children of the Emperor." He said the words with conviction, but in his heart he knew things were lost. Reinforcements or not, they would all die in this place. Things had fallen too far. Once things begin to break down, they go on breaking down, and there is no stopping them. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Sep 6 2010, 09:01 PM The area closer to the Adamantine Hill was devastated. Doran'sha'is couldn't believe the scale of the destruction. Once this place had been beautiful, at least by Gue'la standards, but now? Well, all battlefields looked the same after enough damage had been done. Every building was in ruins, and cracks had even formed along the streets from the force of the blasts. Water ran freely from burst pipes. Dozens of charred and blackened Gue'la bodies were scattered across the flagstones. The stench was awful. Doran'sha'is tore her eyes away from it and stood and watched as Run'ya and the Fio engineers carefully unloaded her new battlesuit from the Orca. "Could you please try and keep this one intact for more than a few hours, Shas'el?" said the Shas'ui, with a deeply concerned tone. "How many have you killed now?"
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"Six, I think. I've lost track," replied Doran'sha'is, noting Run'ya's pained expression. "It doesn't pay to get too attached to these things. I've seen where that can lead. People can get strange." Run'ya nodded begrudgingly, not seeming to notice the implication, then turned and walked away without another word. She sighed. Run'ya was perhaps the only Shas that Doran'sha'is had heard of who had battlesuit psychosis despite never having actually used one. His fascination, even obsession, with the instruments of war knew no bounds. Even the Fio thought he was a bit strange. She watched him as he pounded across the flagstones, seeming to barely notice a burnt corpse as he stepped over it. On the other side of the street was parked his Hammerhead, his pride and joy, a testament to his devotion to all things mechanical. Woe betide anybody, friend or foe, who took so much as a nick out of it. Still, despite all of that, he was a pleasant enough individual, provided you steered clear of all topics relating to armour, weapons, propulsion or power generation, for once he had started, there would be no stopping him until he had made you an expert on heat-cycling in plasma containment chambers or some such. He had a kind of innocence, in a way. Being a Hammerhead pilot by profession he never really had the chance to see war up close; was never close enough to hear the screams of the dying. Unlike some others Doran'sha'is could care to name. She looked around at the Cadre, which was formed up ready to move out at her order. At the front stood Mon'suam's team; the sight of the Shas'ui instantly chilled her temperament somewhat. She quickly turned away, trying to suppress the distaste she felt towards her, and her eyes found N'sho, standing forlorn in front of his team. Doran'sha'is had known him for many years, had seen him change so much. He had once been headstrong, decisive, and a harsh disciplinarian. After Medusa V he had mellowed dramatically, but now? Whatever had happened on that mission yesterday had broken him. She shook her head sadly. Her two finest Shas'ui, apparently, now reduced to the husks of anger and pity they were now. When this battle was over, something would have to be done. A movement in the corner of her eye suddenly caught her attention, and she became aware of some commotion away down the street. All the Shas were standing aside, trying to create a path for something, or someone. Her heart suddenly leapt with hope perhaps Aun'el had arrived? She walked across the flagstones towards the spreading crowd, ready to greet the Aun, her spirits raised.
But then, as the view became clearer and the last few dozen Shas and Gue'vesa stepped aside, she realised what was actually happening. The Gue'la civilians shambled forwards, literally by the thousand. Doran'sha'is' jaw dropped at the sight. The casualties of war. Their clothes were torn and dirty, their skin bruised, bloody and burnt. As they came closer still, she began to make out individual faces, with expressions of fear, sadness, confusion and anger. Some were carrying bodies friends, siblings, children. Most were certainly dead, or at least too far gone to save. They had sought refuge from the fighting in the tunnels that honeycombed beneath the streets of the city, but those were of no use against the kind of bombardment they had suffered. The Tau troops were being pressed up against the sides of the buildings that lined the street. Desperate hands grasped at them, moaning and begging for help. This is what a quick victory had cost the people of this world, and what it would eventually cost the Tau in retribution. This would not be forgotten. She had to do something. "Someone call the Shas'ar'tol!" she shouted. "We need the Fio and Por aid teams here now! Everyone, give them your rations! Break out your medical kits! That is an order!" It took a moment for it to register. Most of the others were equally hypnotised by the spectacle. But they soon snapped out of it, and scurried forwards to give what help they could. All but one of them, at any rate. Doran'sha'is couldn't say she was surprised. "Mon'suam, I gave you an order," she said sternly. "I know, but I must object," replied the Shas'ui flatly. "We can't bring the Por and Fio in yet, this is still a hostile area. And we have orders from the Shas'ar'tol attack as soon as air support arrives." She looked up as she finished speaking, and sure enough, squinting against the early afternoon sun, the Kor vessels descended, safe in the knowledge that they would not be troubled by anti-air fire. With support like that, there was no doubt: the Adamantine Hill would be theirs before the day was out. "I gave you an order," repeated Doran'sha'is. Mon'suam was, at least, partly correct. If those comments had come from anybody else she may have relented. But Mon'suam was not motivated by
military concerns, she was sure of that. "I take my orders from the Shas'ar'tol, Shas'el," said Mon'suam, in an infuriatingly calm tone. She was clearly enjoying this. "As do you." Doran'sha'is stepped forwards, and raised her fist. "I need you right now, Mon'suam. But when we are done here..." she said, and then turned as she and Mon'suam were thrown into shadow. The bulk of Shas'vre Sen'tei's battlesuit loomed over them both. "I have spoken with the Shas'ar'tol," he said. "Aid is incoming. They say there are scenes just like this all over the worst hit areas. They also reiterated our orders to resume the assault as soon as possible." Doran'sha'is looked around, first at Mon'suam, then at the heaving crowd of Gue'la, then once again up at the descending aircraft. "What are your orders, Shas'el?" asked Sen'tei. As the opening salvos from the first Manta opened up against what was left of the Adamantine Hill, Doran'sha'is turned back to the Shas'vre. "We have to end this now, before we see more like them," she said, gesturing in the direction of the crowd of civilians. "Get the Cadre ready to move now." ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Sep 7 2010, 10:21 PM Regan paced back and forth in the precinct's main hall, and listened to the distant explosions. They were getting closer. More dust drifted down from the rafters high above with each impact, and he began to feel a gentle tremor underfoot. He paid no attention to the panicked bustle all around him. Servitors, Arbiters and Guardsmen ran to and fro like chickens. There was no order anymore. It was over, he knew it. It had been over the moment Corus had compromised their defences. Chances were he was in the pocket of the xenos, and was long gone by now.
Walk-on Character
Standing nearby, like frightened sheep, were his assistants. Clerics and scribes not fighters, but useful nonetheless. He wondered vaguely where his personal guard had gone. Dead, most likely, or surrendered, which was even worse. "Inquisitor!" shouted a voice in the crowd. Regan looked around, and saw a young man running towards him with some urgency. "Yes, what?" he demanded, and the man visibly flinched beneath his gaze. "The... there's a message for you, sir," he stammered. "In the vox chamber, sir." "Young man," replied Regan, "who could possibly, at this point in time, have a message that I could give a damn about?" It seemed as if everyone in the hall stopped and turned at the sound of Regan's outburst. Until now he had been able to remain calm, to keep his cool. Once you lost control of yourself you knew your time was up. It was just another reminder. He took a deep breath, and was about to wave the man away when suddenly a thought occurred to him. "I thought you said communications were down?" "W... Well," he began awkwardly. "Speak!" "I don't know, sir. All I know is that a Sergeant Evans has left a message for you, sir. It's been flagged as urgent, sir." Time seemed to slow for a moment as Regan digested the news. Evans. What had happened on that island? By the Emperor, what had been unleashed? "Clear the room," he said. "No one, I mean no one, is to enter or even so much as knock, do you understand?" The precinct's vox chamber was cold, Regan had noted as he was shown in. Bitterly cold. Apparently it was good for the machine spirits or some other techno-nonsense. All the stations were unoccupied. There had only been a handful of operators left in any case, so it hadn't taken long to clear the place out. Regan had been led to a console in the far corner, away from the main hall. A small speaker stood on the desk. Without Regan touching anything, it suddenly burst into life.
"Hello? Hel... Oh s***, a machine. I hate these things. Ahem. Hello Inquisitor, this is Sergeant Evans speaking. I'd ask you how things were going over in the big city, but I doubt you're in the mood for it given the current situation. Anyway, the past couple of days have been very interesting, I must say. Cunning little bastards, those xenos. Can you believe they actually had a soulless with them? No, no, don't worry. I'm much better now, thank you very much. Still, that really must have pissed in your drink and no mistake! Outwitted by a bunch of blue-skinned fishcows that can't even count to ten properly! Your specialist is dead too, by the way; the xenos made off with the body. By the gods, you must be absolutely livid! Sorry I can't talk too long; I'm expecting a visitor sometime later today. Good thing too, if you ask me my present company isn't all that good with the conversation. Plus, I'm running out of non-vital bits to cut off them. Anyhoo, this is probably goodbye I guess. I can't imagine I'll be speaking to you again anytime, well, ever frankly, what with you probably being buried under six feet of rubble sometime in the next few hours. Tell the Emperor I said hi if you see Him." And then it cut off, just as abruptly as it had started. Regan stood stock still for a few seconds as he digested what he had just heard. In that moment, the Tau's actions were suddenly of no concern to him anymore. This city could burn, with everyone in it for all he cared. It was nothing compared to the threat he felt had just emerged. Regan had always sensed some power within the daemon that was bound to the Sergeant, but as it had spoken to him now he could sense something far older and greater than anything he had encountered before, despite its childish tone. Suddenly an explosion shook the ground beneath him. They were very close now. Even if reinforcements were indeed coming, it was too late now. He unholstered his bolt pistol and walked back towards the main hall. Time for them all to fight and die for the Emperor. He would maintain whatever order he could, right until the end. At least he could have that satisfaction. Of course, the knowledge that the Tau would have to deal with whatever evil they had awoken would also help to lighten his final moments, he thought. He stepped out into the main hall. Everyone was stood still, watching, waiting for his next order. He gave an evil little smile. "Soldiers of Amethia! All those of you who want to live forever, please take one step forwards!" he shouted, releasing the safety catch on his sidearm.
***
Kasrkin
Posted: Sep 9 2010, 12:23 AM Doran'sha'is would remember the final push against the Adamantine Hill for many years after. Entire districts had been levelled by the bombardment, and huge open expanses of rubble were all that remained. At several points, huge sections of the streets had collapsed into the tunnels below, forming massive kilometres-long trenches that had slowed the Tau's advance more than the defenders had been able. Doran'sha'is wondered just how many people had been down there when it had happened. Roaring flames and billowing clouds of black smoke billowed from hundreds of small fires. Sometimes, visibility was reduced to just a few metres without optical enhancement. The place constantly reminded Doran'sha'is of the ancient images in the museums showing the dark times of the Mont'au. On more than one occasion they came across a group of Gue'la soldiers. They would march neatly in formation, or scurry like vermin escaping a sinking sea vessel, towards the Tau to surrender themselves. As time went by, fewer such parties were encountered, and resistance increased. All that were left were the die-hards, and Doran'sha'is began to realise that this battle could not be won until every last one of them was dead. The afternoon sun was continually blocked out by the vessels of the Kor. With no anti-air emplacements remaining to oppose them, they circled low over the Adamantine Hill, their weapons lancing out at the smallest sign of movement, annihilating everything they encountered. Nonetheless, casualties were relatively high amongst the Shas. Word reached Doran'sha'is of nearly an entire Cadre wiped out when dozens of Gue'la had feigned a surrender, then charged them and detonated explosives they had strapped to themselves. Elsewhere, tiny islands of resistance were encountered around the surviving bunkers, that continually sapped the Tau's strength one piece at a time. The Cadre had performed well enough, Doran'sha'is reflected, but something was not right, especially amongst the Fire Warriors. It was perhaps understandable many of them had had friends in Jonas' and Ta'is' teams that they would be mourning, but there was
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something else. Whatever had happened in yesterday's mission had made them uneasy, and in nobody else was this clearer than N'sho. He had repeatedly held his team back whenever the enemy was encountered, seemingly reluctant to place them in harm's way. Eventually though, the Tau's advance had brought them almost to the peak of the Hill, and ahead of them now was the vast, imposing edifice of the Arbites Precinct. The Gue'la's last stand was an impressive sight. The outer walls were many dozens of metres high, even more formidable than those that lined the city's western boundary. They had once been lined with shining white marble, but now were dirty and black with soot and scorch marks. They bristled with hundreds of weapon ports built into their structure, and lining the battlements were still thousands of Gue'la soldiers. Above all of this, the huge translucent dome of the Void Shield shimmered and gleamed against the clear blue sky. The Tau were still out of effective range of much of the Gue'la's smaller weaponry, and were well dug into cover. The Gue'la would not waste their no doubt limited ammunition on them just yet, but this was merely the calm before the storm. Before anything could happen though, the Gue'la would need to be softened up a little. Frankly, she wondered why they couldn't just sit it out and wait for them to surrender of their own accord, but orders were orders. They were to finish this now. "Bring in the heavy equipment," said Doran'sha'is into her new suit's comm. She had only been in it for a short while, and yet already it fitted her like a glove and was acting as a perfect extension of her will. "We'll need some serious suppressive fire here." *** On the Precinct's massive perimeter walls, Regan walked among his troops, pistol in hand. He could feel every man and woman tense as he walked past. They were gripped by fear, it was true, but with any luck they would fight to the death. It would not be a good day today unless every single one of them lay dead or dying at the end of it. In the distance, he could see the Tau had dug into the vast carpet of rubble that was what was left of most of the outer defences. The bombardment had been that devastating. A few military structures had survived, but not enough to trouble the victors of the day. The Precinct, however, would make them pay for every step they took. Regan understood that it was built using Dark Age technologies many thousands of years ago, perhaps even before the Great
Crusade itself. He could certainly believe that now, looking out at the devastation that surrounded this tiny island of order. On the Tau lines, he suddenly became aware of movement. Their war machines were being cautiously brought up. The cowardly xenos were no doubt unwilling to sacrifice too much at this stage of the fight. Regan could hear the vague, mumbled prayers from half a dozen worlds all along the line. They knew, as he did, that everything was about to end. He held his breath, and waited for the first shots. *** It didn't go well. The massed firepower of thousands of heavy weapons opened up against the Gue'la defences, and moments later the order to rush forwards was given. Hundreds of Devilfish and battlesuits responded instantly, and sped forwards over the ruins. The Gue'la didn't even flinch. The walls absorbed their firepower like it was nothing more than a light breeze. All across the line dozens of Devilfish and battlesuits were blown to pieces by the Gue'la's firepower, which had exploded into life with all the fury of the Mont'au. Fire Warriors spilled from the backs of their downed vehicles, only to be cut to pieces before they even touched the ground. Doran'sha'is considered that they had been lucky. Only a short distance to their right, the heaviest Gue'la defences had been situated around the main gate, and what seemed like an entire contingent had been all but annihilated in the opening salvoes. As she soared forwards through the air, she felt the first shots hit her battlesuit, but seemed to do no damage. Another volley struck Shas'vre Ol'shase, and she could feel the shrapnel from the explosion slam into her flank. She would have to stop and analyse the damage, so adjusting her thrust she aimed her battlesuit right at the base of the walls, where others had had the same idea and decided to take refuge from the firestorm. All the while, supporting fire from their rear and the Kor vessels above continued ineffectually. What is this place made of? she wondered in horrified amazement. The only place they had been able to make any headway, it seemed, was against the troops lining the battlements. The Void Shield that covered the fortress from above was relatively weak by Imperial standards, and visibly flickered and shimmered faintly over the battlements. The Kor's weapons scythed along its length, occasionally breaking the shields and wiping out entire platoons at a time before any return fire could be trained on them.
But, by the Tau'va, in the end it was. Looking up from her place of seclusion as her battlesuit ran its diagnostic checks, she saw a great beam of light lanced out into the sky and a Manta was vapourised instantly. The Imperial defence laser, assumed destroyed in the bombardment, was evidently still functional. As another beam blew the starboard wing off a Barracuda, she suddenly began to feel sick. She looked around. All along the base of the wall, largely safe from the worst of the Gue'la fire, hundreds of Tau and Gue'vesa crouched in fear. Out in no-mans' land, the broken bodies of dozens of vehicles and battlesuits littered the ground. Charred and dismembered corpses were scattered here and there. Amongst it all, Doran'sha'is saw some survivors cowering amongst the wreckage. She doubted that they'd last long. Turning back to those nearby, she took a quick headcount. Most of her people had made it through, which was something to be thankful for. Her comm suddenly came alive. "Shas'el?" said a voice. "This is N'sho." "What is it, Shas'ui?" she replied. "We are going to die here, aren't we?" he said. It seemed like more of a statement than a question, delivered with little emotion. He spoke calmly, as if he had resigned himself to that fact. "Perhaps," was all she could say in reply, as she tried to keep track of everything that was going on around her. A mortar round landed a short distance away. Soon they would find their range. "We need to breach their defences now. Do you have any ideas?" she asked, trying to sound sarcastic but unable to hide her growing desperation. "Yes," he said, again with that strange faraway tone. "I have to die." She hesitated. "What?" "I must die. All my attempts to serve the Tau'va have ended in the deaths of those around me. Please, let me do this one thing." "That's insane," said Doran'sha'is in disbelief. "Please, I know I must do this," he pleaded. "For the Tau'va." Doran'sha'is sighed. Those three words. For the Tau'va. With them, you could justify practically any action, perhaps if only to yourself. But N'sho was right. If they stayed here, they would all die soon enough. She was willing to try anything.
"What do you suggest?" she asked. Another mortar round exploded nearby. They were getting closer. "You studied the plans for this place? The ones the defector gave us?" "Of course," she replied. For what they were worth, she added to herself. They hadn't indicated anything like the sheer resilience this place was displaying. "Get me beyond the walls, and I can bring this place down." Doran'sha'is shook her head. What am I thinking? "No. This is not our way. This is not how we fight our wars. I will not condemn any of my people to certain death." "You condemned Alexus," said N'sho, as if he had been expecting Doran'sha'is' response. "And that was enough," she said, suddenly angered at N'sho's manipulation. "Never again." "If you don't let me try this, we all die," said N'sho, with greater conviction. "Please. I am willing." In her heart Doran'sha'is knew N'sho was right. Sometimes sacrifices had to be made. They were Shas; to die for the Tau'va was practically their purpose. Doran'sha'is sighed. "Very well," she said. "The Mont'cha it is." The Mont'cha, she thought wretchedly. Death purpose. A fitting name for a terrible act. It had been authorised before, of course, on Medusa V. Many had volunteered to remain behind to defend the Etheric Scanner Arrays right up until the very end. Their eventual fate was not something that was discussed openly. "Thank you, Shas'el," said N'sho. "Now; I need a battlesuit." *** Regan watched impassively as the defence laser fired once again, blowing another xeno vessel out of the sky. It was deeply satisfying to watch, as the xenos battered in vain against the shield and the walls of the compound. The knowledge that you are going to die soon was a very liberating experience, he reflected. He felt completely at ease with himself, for perhaps the first time ever. He knew that he would not be forsaken
when he went before the Emperor. His soul and actions had been pure. Order had been maintained. And yet, once again he allowed himself to give in to hope for a brief moment. Hope that they might actually survive this, and live to serve the Emperor for another day. It was a vain hope, he knew in his soul, but the human mind could be a cruel trickster. He would be proved right. *** "You are sure you remember how to use this?" asked Doran'sha'is, as N'sho was fastened into her battlesuit. "You never forget, Shas'el," he replied. As the hatch was closed, she took one final look at the Shas'ui's face. She would never forget that peaceful smile. All around, Shas and Gue'vesa stood watching the scene with awe, the prospect of almost certain death for now forgotten. N'sho was not alone. Others had volunteered for this mission, inspired by N'sho's dedication. She did not have the heart to say why it was he really wanted to do this because he had lost hope in himself. The Mont'cha, over two dozen battlesuits of various classes, was ready to go into battle for the first and last time. She turned to Sen'tei, to whom she had entrusted the task of leading them in. He had been the first to volunteer after N'sho. "Get on the comm. Tell them we're ready," she said. There would be no goodbyes for Sen'tei. He was not the sort to appreciate it. The way he saw it, he was merely an instrument of the Tau'va, and nothing more. It was admirable, if somewhat disturbing. She turned back towards the main Tau lines in the distance. More units had been moved in, she could see. They would need all the firepower they could get. "Everybody down!" she shouted. The infantry backed away, and took cover as best they could. She too lay down and covered her head with her hands. Moments later there was a deafening roar, and the sound of jetpacks being fired as the Mont'cha launched themselves to their deaths. *** It was a surprise; that was for certain. The firepower of what seemed like the entire xeno army was unleashed at once at a single point
along the top of the walls. Everyone within the compound flinched and shielded their eyes as the Void shield flickered brightly for a moment and then was broken, just for a few seconds. It was enough though, as a small force of xeno battlesuits poured in through the breach before it closed up like a healing wound. Nobody was ready, Regan could tell. That was the evil of hope. They thought they could sit behind these walls until the Second Coming, and now that hope was shattered. He could feel the panic all around him, as Guardsmen and Arbiters ran forwards to engage the enemy. Order had been broken, perhaps for the last time. After drawing his blade and casually decapitating a young guardsman who was running the wrong way, he turned to his squad of Storm Troopers, who didn't seem to display the same failings as those other fools. "Follow me, men. The Emperor awaits our arrival!" *** On her HUD, Doran'sha'is watched through N'sho's eyes. Powerless to intervene she could only observe, and do nothing but hope that they would succeed. The Mont'cha had breached the Void Shields, and dropped into the vast courtyard beyond. Those initial moments were so chaotic. Gue'la ran in all directions; panicked inaccurate gunfire darted everywhere. Battlesuits were hit, and fell lifeless to the ground. So many Gue'la, thought Doran'sha'is. The Tau cut them down without mercy. N'sho and a few others broke away from the main fight, and launched themselves away towards the gatehouse. Dozens of Gue'la tanks were deployed around the main gate itself in a semi-circular formation, leaving their weak rear armour exposed to the Tau. N'sho destroyed two with blasts from his plasma rifle before the rest of them could wheel around to face him. They fired, but such was their inaccuracy and N'sho's speed the massive shells missed their target and impacted amongst their own troops. Gue'la were blown apart by the dozen. According to Doran'sha'is' HUD, there were only four battlesuits remaining, but it was enough. The door to the gatehouse was just there, and it looked relatively unguarded. His ammo was low, but there was one weapon that N'sho would only need one shot with. Whispering her devotion to the Tau'va, Doran'sha'is watched as N'sho charged. ***
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Posted: Sep 11 2010, 02:45 AM Regan looked around the large, arched doorway. They were coming, or at least what was left of them. He took a deep breath. You see, he thought. When you stay calm and think rationally about things, everything becomes clear. The Tau were going for the gatehouse. Any fool could have anticipated it if they weren't too busy running around like frightened grox. He looked around. On the floor in the corner was a cowering technician. Regan shot him without a second thought. He couldn't have people pissing themselves near the gate mechanism. These old machines could be so temperamental. It was all so simple. Maintain order, and everything else would fall into place. Everything would work out. "Ready!" he shouted to his squad, who he had been satisfied to note hadn't so much as batted an eyelid at the execution. "Engage!" They stepped around into the doorway, and fired. *** The HUD went blank, and the audio screamed feedback and then went silent. The sound of the explosion was faint out here, but the muffled boom within the walls was just about audible. Away to the right, she could hear the much louder noise of unknown materials grinding together as the gates swung open. Nobody cheered, but the sense of relief and elation was electric. She turned to the infantry behind her, and forcefully flicked the safety off on her pulse rifle. "Prime your weapons," she shouted. "We're going in." *** Regan didn't know how long the battle lasted after that. He was aware of screaming, and explosions, and strange-sounding gunfire. It all sounded very distant, even though his brain knew that it was all very close by. He tried to shift himself from the rubble, but his
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power armour seemed to have died, and so he closed his eyes and waited for the chaos to be over. As it certainly would be. He had done his part. Order had been maintained, right to the end. There was no way they could not win the day. Eventually it did become quiet. He smiled, satisfied at himself. It suddenly went dark, and he became aware of two vague figures standing over him, blotting out the light of the setting sun. One of them he didn't recognise, but the one standing behind ah, yes, those robes. It must be Inquisitor Baptiste. He hadn't failed her this time. He had done his duty. "I did all that I could, my lady," he spluttered through a mouthful of blood. "And do you see, order was maintained! I did everything, everything you asked of me. 'Whatever it takes,' you said. 'There is no price too high to safeguard the Imperium.'" *** <<Inquisition Corvette-class vessel Infinite Justice, low orbit over Medusa IV, two hundred and forty years before Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> Regan stood at the view port and watched the last transports fall into formation. The evacuation, it seemed, was complete, or at least as complete as it could be. Millions of loyalists were no doubt still left on the surface. There was nothing more that could be done for them. He saw a reflection in the window, and recognised the face of Inquisitor Baptiste. "Are we still to proceed with the plan, my Lady?" Regan asked, without turning around. "Yes, Regan," she replied. "There is now no other way to contain this evil. You know this." "Yes, I know," said Regan, and hung his head. "But before? Could it have been stopped then, before things had gotten too out of hand?" "Do you think it could? Was there something you think you could have done? Beware the conceit of hindsight, Regan. It is a curse." Regan shut his eyes. His mistress knew. Of course she knew. "I was... too lenient," he said carefully. "Certain protocols weren't followed."
"You think all this," said Baptiste, gesturing widely towards the grey disc of Medusa IV, "was somehow your fault? Just because you allowed a few peasants to skip prayers?" "No... no, of course not. That... But as they say, 'every drop makes the ocean deeper.' And I wonder just how many drops I may have added." He went on, aware yet uncaring of the hole he was no doubt digging for himself. "There was this man, called Karl. We were... I thought of him as a friend, so I... and then at Artemis, during the first assault, I killed a man, and his face, I..." He turned to Baptiste, who had said nothing during Regan's stuttered confession. "I think it was him. Karl." "Are you sure?" asked Baptiste. "In the heat of battle, our minds can play evil tricks on us. Look, maybe it was this man, maybe it wasn't. That is not what should concern you." She sighed. "You know I should have you killed for this?" she said. "I should push you into an escape pod and let you burn down there with the rest of the traitors?" Regan said nothing. He simply nodded. "But I won't," she went on. "And do you know why?" "No." "Because you now truly understand what happens when things are allowed to go out of control. You understand how even the slightest misdemeanour can escalate, can infect the souls of others around it and can, perhaps, lead to such as today." She placed a hand on Regan's shoulder. "That, more than anything else, is what makes a good Inquisitor. The knowledge that if you should fail in your duty, then you condemn billions of souls to this fate." She gestured again to the window, just as Regan felt a gentle vibration beneath his feet. Out in the void, Regan saw for the briefest moment the silhouettes of two cyclone torpedoes dart out across the light grey of Medusa IV's surface. The two of them stood in silence together for what seemed like hours, and watched as Medusa IV died. *** Doran'sha'is watched as the Gue'la slowly passed away. He was made of strong stuff, there was no doubt. She had seen him on her HUD, if only momentarily, for the brief moment just before N'sho activated the Failsafe Detonator. Listening to the man's last, delirious words was a strange experience. He represented everything that Doran'sha'is stood against, and every word that
came from his mouth merely reinforced her certainty of the evil of the Gue'la Imperium. What he spoke of was all wrong. You couldn't forget about the cost it took to ensure a little temporary security. You might have to make sacrifices, but there were some lines that had to be drawn, otherwise you would turn into just another monster. There were enough monsters in the galaxy without the Tau being the same. She had forgotten that fact for a while, but perhaps ironically it was a Gue'la that in the end had made her remember. *** <<Medusa V, Edethor Region, Tau barracks facility on Charybdis Crest, fifteen days before Final Evacuation>> Several hours passed, and gradually the celebrations died down. After the initial jubilation, some semblance of reality had set in. There was still a war to fight, and so units had one by one been called away, and the barracks was now virtually empty. In the large viewing room, Doran'sha'is stood alone and watched the screens. Most had now gone blank. She suddenly heard movement behind her, and turned to face the source. At the back of the room, sitting against the wall, was Alexus. Doran'sha'is smiled, and nodded to him. "I was wondering where you had got to," she said, slipping into Alexus' particular brand of Low Gothic. It had been about eight years since Alexus had joined the Tau Empire, but his attempts to learn the language had been less than successful. "I thought you might have missed all this." "Does it make you proud?" he asked, somewhat sarcastically. "What do you mean? Of course it does. Just look!" she said, pointing enthusiastically at the bank of screens. Alexus got to his feet, and walked over to her. "Yes, it's wonderful. A great victory for the Tau Empire. For the Greater Good, and all that." She looked at him with concern. "What is wrong with you, Alexus?" she asked. "We stand here on the day of our greatest victory so far in this war, and you just... Sometimes I really just can't understand you." "I could say the same thing," he said, his voice taking on a slightly more menacing tone. "I don't understand you, any of you. You say this is for the Greater Good? I'm sorry; I fail to see what is so
great about this kind of wanton destruction." "We destroyed a vital Gue'la military installation, Gue'vesa'ui. It was necessary." "Oh, really?" he shouted. "I'm sorry, Doran'sha'is, but how can you be so blind? Do you think something like this isn't going to have repercussions? What about the people in the Hives? We're talking about millions of people here. With an impact like that, there'll be hive quakes have you ever experienced one of those? Thousands, maybe even millions of people will die. The atmosphere for hundreds of miles all around will be choked with dust and ash how many refugees are going to get off-world in those kinds of conditions?" "It is for the..." began Doran'sha'is, almost automatically. "I don't want to hear about the damned Greater Good!" he shouted, enraged. "I heard enough of that s*** years ago. A real good job you did of it too, all that peace and equality and prosperity bulls*** you crammed down our throats. You know, for years there, I actually believed it, but then you went and did this piece of work." He managed to compose himself once again, and then went on. "I don't care which way the Water Caste spin it, Shas'el. What happened today was wrong. You just condemned thousands, probably millions of innocent people to death, and didn't even try to think of another way of doing it. You just thought you'd show the galaxy how big and strong you've become, and didn't even bother to notice the people who will suffer because of it. But hey, they're only Gue'la, right?" Doran'sha'is stood in shocked silence. "But," she began, but the words didn't materialise. He was right, she knew it. If this was any other war, she would have known from the beginning, they all would have, and they would never have even considered something as crude and destructive as the Hammer. But, in the chaos of this dying world, things had been forgotten. Important things. And next time, they would need to be remembered. She looked at Alexus, who was still visibly fuming. "I am sorry, Alexus," was all she was able to say. "Truly, I am." He seemed to soften, and she extended her hand. He took it, a little hesitantly. "I know," he said. "But don't let yourselves become like us. Please. Otherwise there is no hope, for anybody." *** She turned away from the Gue'la's broken body, and watched the nearby commotion. Fio engineers and Shas were frantically digging
in the rubble, trying to find the body of Shas'ui N'sho. They wouldn't find much; failsafe detonators were notoriously effective. But whatever they did find, they would hoard, and treasure, and idolise. She had eavesdropped on plenty of conversations since the battle had died away, and all that was spoken of was the sacrifice of N'sho and the rest of the Mont'cha. If only they knew it was all a dream. N'sho hadn't died for the Tau'va, not really. He had died because he had given up hope, but in the Tau'va there should always be hope. She wondered whether that might be a more important lesson for them than just another one about selfless heroism. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned. It was Aun'el. He was looking at her with something approaching fatherly concern. "Hello, Doran'sha'is." She looked into his eyes, and something about that moment made her break down and she almost fell to her knees. "Why, Aun'el?" she pleaded. "Why was Mont'da allowed to have his way?" Aun'el said nothing, just smiled warmly and gently took her face in his hands. "Why?" she repeated. "The Gue'la will never forgive us, Aun'el. Never. It will be like Kronus all over again." Aun'el nodded solemnly. "Perhaps, Shas'el. Perhaps." He placed both hands on Doran'sha'is' shoulders. "But you did all you could. You broke no promises. For now though, you must think of other things. Mourn your dead. Prepare for war. Tomorrow will only be another battle." He released his delicate grip, and stepped back. "Go, Shas'el. Your people need you." The Aun turned and walked away, and was quickly joined by his Honour Guard. A Por'hui news team was waiting for him by the central compound. It took some time for him to reach them. The ground was like a carpet of Gue'la bodies. Almost none had surrendered, and the price they had made the Tau pay for the victory had been high. Reports were still coming in, but casualties were apparently heavy. The units that had taken part in the assault against the Gue'la stronghold had suffered forty percent casualties, and almost half of those would never leave this forsaken place. The sense of calmness she had experienced in Aun'el's presence quickly evaporated. She still had the fire of battle in her blood, and she knew that there was still one piece of unfinished business for today. She activated her comm.
"Mon'suam, this is Shas'el Doran'sha'is. Report in." There was a click, and the transmission went dead. She tried again, and this time it was rejected outright. She considered trying again, but she knew instinctively that she wouldn't get through. She stood there amongst the broken bodies and rubble that littered the ground, and had never felt more alone. The Gue'vesa were dead. Sen'tei was dead. N'sho was dead. And now, Mon'suam had gone.
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Posted: Sep 13 2010, 11:06 PM CHAPTER TWO "Even though you once called him friend, the Traitor has forsaken you. Show no mercy even if he begs for it, for his soul is tainted and given the chance he will betray your trust."
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Techpriest Garal. ***
Nothing can prepare you for it. No matter how much training and preparation they put you through, nothing can ever prepare you for the bowel-loosening reality of the genuine article. That was just the first of a cacophony of frantic thoughts that raced through Gue'vesa'ui Dal'yth Jonas Varris' mind when they were hit. First there was the noise. Before the impact there was only the gentle humming of the Orca's engines, and the sucking silence of two dozen people holding their breath, making their own last personal preparations for the battle that was only moments away. But when the missile struck the vessel's right flank, blasting open half the cockpit, Jonas' brain, still feeling the after-effects of the previous night's wildsnake, felt like it was going to explode. The alarm instantly blared into life, and fire and shrapnel tore backwards through the compartment. The Gue'vesa, fully armoured and strapped tightly into their seats, could do nothing as the firestorm rolled over them. Jonas felt something hit his shoulder pad and turned to see the head of the man next to him slumped
against it. A large chunk of debris had lodged itself in his neck, and his head had almost been sliced clean off. With both pilots undoubtedly dead, and the vessel crippled, Jonas wasn't surprised when the Orca violently lurched and tipped over sideways and began its plummet towards the waiting water. His stomach heaved violently and he felt himself throw up. The prospect of certain death can instil a number of different feelings in a person. As the Orca slammed inevitably into the waves, Jonas, with a helmet full of vomit, found himself thinking of home. *** On the quay, a cheer went up from the militia, and Cortana lowered the missile launcher from her shoulder with a smile. It had been an incredible shot. One in a million. She lowered her head and whispered a prayer to the Emperor, thanking him for guiding her aim. It would never be enough, of course, but every one of them she killed brought her that much closer to justice. "Great shot, kiddo," said the Sergeant, patting her on the shoulder. "I swear you're blessed, or something." Cortana pushed his hand off with as much tact as she was able and stood meekly as all around, the rest of the militia squad laughed and celebrated this small victory. Such a moment could never last long, though. Cortana's gaze fell across the straits as more of the xeno's vessels skimmed the waves, heading to the battle on the western shore by the dozen. She tried to close her ears off to the noises that she had begun to hear over here on the eastern side. The enemy had dropped in, and already the sound of intense gunfire and explosions could be heard even from out here in the docks. It was a sobering thought. Sergeant Naylor clearly sensed the change in mood. "That's enough, lads. We head down to the shoreline. There may be survivors." Cortana watched as everyone grabbed their gear, or at least what there was of it. They each had a lasgun, and wore armbands stamped with the Imperial Aquila, but beyond that you wouldn't recognise them as soldiers. They wore either their civvies, or some battered, dirty suit of combat fatigues they had either inherited or managed to scrounge from the armoury. Professional soldiers they were not. As for Cortana herself, she was hardly a veteran. A few days down at the firing ranges had gotten her promoted to
specialist, but she knew that she was little more than a lucky mascot to the rest of them, no matter how many xenos and traitors she might kill. She would always be Little Cortana. "Cortana, may I have a word with you?" said Naylor, taking her to one side as the others trunched off. "Yes, sergeant?" she replied dutifully. "Of course I know about your father, Cortana," he said. "I hope it does not cloud your judgement. I need everyone focused on the task set for us." Cortana nodded, and smiled innocently. "Very good," said Naylor, a little uneasily, and they set off after the others. "He was a good man, your father. I knew him well." "I know, sergeant." "Of course, not a day goes by that I don't regret not being able to go with them." "Yes, sergeant," she said. "I remember it. Thank you, sergeant." He ruffled her hair. "You're a good kid, Cortana." *** <<Amethia, Heaven's Gate, eleven years before Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> Cortana would later learn the true meaning and significance of this day, and what it meant for the world of Amethia. But for now, with the unsullied innocence of youth it was enough to simply enjoy the spectacle. The streets of the Collis Celestialis were packed with revelling citizens. The rooftops were lined with people. Even the lampposts had people hanging from them, trying to get a better view. The departing soldiers had been marching in an orderly fashion down the Via Aethra to the sound of the Imperial band Cortana had liked that part but soon they had been mobbed and swept up by the cheering crowd. She had been hoping to see her father, all dressed up in his uniform, but despite being sat on Uncle Naylor's shoulders she couldn't see him in the throng. Uncle Naylor was supposed to go onto the space elevator too, but he said they wouldn't let him because of his heart. Eventually the strangers from off-world had tried to break the crowd up, and started dragging the soldiers away. Cortana hadn't really paid much attention to that part though. She was too busy
devouring the chocolate her mother had given her for being brave. *** Jonas opened one eye carefully, and squinted against the midday sun. He could feel water lap around his feet, and a rough, hard surface beneath him. Grimacing at the pulsing pain in every part of his body, he dug his fingers into the ground, clenching his fist around a handful of pebbles. He felt the chilly water around his ankles once again, and realisation dawned. He was on a beach, he was alive, and he was in pain. He managed to push himself up into a sitting position, wincing as every muscle in his body screamed in protest, and shivering with the chill of the seawater against his skin. Ignoring the discomfort, he smiled and took in the view. Just a few yards in front of him, the waves rolled gently up the beach towards his feet, rolling over the pebbles before pulling back with that faint sucking sound. The sunlight glistened and sparkled on the surface of the straits, and the gleaming white expanse of the city on the far side stood tall and proud, with above it all the imposing bulk of the Adamantine Hill framed against the clouds. Away to the north, the huge golden visage of the Pontis Maxima stretched high across the waves, linking the eastern and western sides of the city. It was the best hangover cure a man could have hoped for. His flooded ears suddenly popped, and he could hear raised voices off down the beach. Damn it. He had completely forgotten about the others. Unsteadily, he managed to get to his feet. The weight of what felt like several gallons of seawater in his belly was deeply uncomfortable, but he felt now that he could walk without throwing up. Or passing out. Away down the beach he could just about see a small crowd of Humans was gathered, dressed in the distinctive black and green of Ya'monat. Jonas limped, squelching with every step, across the unforgiving surface towards them. It was plain to see that something important was happening. As he hobbled closer, one of the Gue'vesa broke away from the group and ran forward to meet him. "Gue'vesa'ui!" he shouted, elated. "We thought you were dead for sure!" It was Jae'ro, he noted, a second-generation Gue'vesa. He understood they had a reputation for being a bit weird. Not as bad as Jonas had heard many first-gens could be, himself included, but
they often had that 'not quite right' feel about them that was sometimes worse than mere culture clash. "What, you think Old Man Jonas can't handle himself? I've been slaughtering my way across the galaxy since before your mother first lay back and screamed prayers to whatever gods the Ecclesiarchs let her get away with. Trust me; I've been through worse than this in my time." Jae'ro flashed a grin at him, but this quickly faded. "What's happened?" asked Jonas. "It's Tyrol, Ui'Jonas. It, um, it doesn't look good." The two of them ran or hobbled in Jonas' case towards the rest of the Gue'vesa. A quick head count revealed that sixteen of them had survived the crash, and were now gathered forlornly around the seventeenth. Gue'vesa'la Tyrol. His armour and fatigues had been stripped from his torso, and Gue'vesa'la Doran'por was crouched over him, frantically trying to revive him. Jonas knew Tyrol well. He was the last remaining link to a life he had long since left behind. *** <<Medusa V, Edethor Region, Sybilla Tertius slum district "The Labyrinth", forty five days before Final Evacuation>> The two shadowy figures crouched in the rubble. It was dark, but the red light of the burning city around them would be enough for any half-awake sentry to spot them if they weren't careful. "Okay, Tyrol, are you absolutely sure?" whispered Jonas. The young guardsman said nothing. "They catch us, we die. Firing squad most likely." Tyrol nodded. "Good lad. Now if anything happens to me out there, just keep moving. Don't look back, and don't stop until you're clear of the city. Until that happens, just stick with me. I've got your back. Now: last chance." "I'm ready, Sergeant," said Tyrol. "I can't stay here, not after what I've seen. The things that we've been made to do. The Tau say that..."
"Oh, 'the Tau say'. Just forget about that stuff, Tyrol," hissed Jonas. "It's just bulls*** propaganda and you know it. The Tau are just like us, they just haven't worked out what a bitch this galaxy really is yet. Why do you think they didn't once try and convert us with booze? All that 'Greater Good' stuff is all well and good, but if they'd promised us a crate o' wildsnake each then half the regiment would've been up into the mountains with white flags before you could say 'shoot the traitorous bastards'. The Commissars would probably keel over and die just from the shock. Once they realise that everyone in this galaxy is a greedy, selfish bastard then maybe they'll make some headway." "Then why are you doing this, Sarge? You never did say." "I have my reasons. Now let's go before the shift changes." Jonas turned, and took one last look back at the Imperial base. "Regrets, Sarge?" asked Tyrol, following his gaze. "Well, it would have been nice to not have had to knock out KJ and tie him up face down in the toilet," he said with a smirk, "but needs must, and all that. I just hope he doesn't hold a grudge." He sighed. There were regrets, all right. So many old friends would be left behind, and he knew he would never see them again, at least not under good terms. But what choice did he have, with the things he had been shown? With such an opportunity as this? Then he jumped up and sprinted away across the broken ground. Tyrol followed, and the two of them ran off into the night and didn't stop until morning. *** "Move, let me try!" ordered Jonas, and pushed his way through. He never was the master of the medical stuff, but before he could try anything he was interrupted by a familiar voice. "You're wasting your time, Gue'vesa'ui," it said. "He was dead long before you arrived." Jonas turned in sudden anger, fully prepared to shout until his lungs were sore. "Ta'is," he began, but then he saw what the other Gue'vesa'ui was doing. Lei'tan was sat beside him, and he had a medical kit open and was dressing a nasty-looking gash on the side of her head. She was staring at Jonas, and for just a moment there, the light caught her in a strange way and with her face and hair covered in crimson, she looked positively terrifying. It was only for
the briefest of moments, perhaps it was just one of those optical illusions or something, and when she turned back to Ta'is she seemed normal once again. "Yes, Gue'vesa'ui?" asked Ta'is calmly. "Just..." He looked back down at Tyrol's body. There was no doubt about it. The man was clearly dead. "Just try showing a little compassion for once in your life." Ta'is and Lei'tan briefly made eye contact. "I'll try," he said, closing the medi-kit. He took her by the arm and stood up. "But for now we need to move. Gue'la patrols will be here to look for survivors soon enough and there's no way we can fight in our condition." Jonas nodded, and looked around at the Gue'vesa. The expression 'drowned rat' came instantly to mind. Half of them were new recruits, and after the crash they had just four weapons between them. "What a damned mess," Jonas muttered to himself. Ta'is was a heartless bastard, but like all good bastards he was always bang on the money just when you really didn't want him to be. "All right," he said. "We need to find somewhere to hide until we're relieved. The docklands should do for now." Ta'is stared at him for a few moments. "Whatever you say, Gue'vesa'ui," he said eventually. "I dare say you know what you're doing." "Right," said Jonas, beginning to feel a little uneasy. Talking to Ta'is for any length of time had that effect on a lot of people. "Right people, let's move like we're scared s***less. Who's taking the guns?" "I've nominated myself, Jae'ro, Kais and Lei'tan," said Ta'is. Jonas looked at Lei'tan, who was defiantly gripping her carbine like she meant to hold it until doomsday. There was a fire in her eyes that was slightly unnerving. "Sounds fine to me," he lied. And so they headed up the beach towards the seawall. Beyond were the narrow streets and alleyways of the city's eastern docklands. Jonas took one last look back at Tyrol's body, which was being left to rot on the shoreline. When night came the beach would be crawling with Ambedo bugs, and by morning his body would be little more than a skeleton. He deserved better, after all they had
been through together. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Sep 14 2010, 08:24 PM The surf lapped around Cortana's ankles, the icy cold seawater getting through her worn boots and soaking her feet. But she didn't notice the chill, not when faced with a sight such as this. Explosions blossomed across the western city. Even at this distance the noise was clearly audible, and the flashes so bright you had to shield your eyes. "By the Emperor," muttered Naylor. The look of shock and fear on his face was repeated across that of the entire squad. Cortana wasn't surprised, though. They were all, apart from Naylor, still little more than children at the end of the day. They had mostly joined up for the chance to hold a gun, and all the usual boyish fantasies about war. The xenos were going to come in here, take one look at them and flee with their tails between their legs the second the first lasgun was fired. Or so they had thought. "Are you okay, Cortana?" asked Naylor with concern. "Yes, Sergeant," she said, trying to conceal her weariness. "Good," he said. "That's good." It wasn't clear who he was trying to reassure. He had averted his gaze from the spectacle on the far side of the straits, and was now scanning the length of the beach. He did so for a few minutes, until Cortana spoke up. "What's that, Sergeant?" she asked helpfully, pointing north along the beach. "What?" replied Naylor. Cortana suppressed a sigh. "Ah, yes," he said, looking in what he presumably thought was the right direction. The fool hadn't had the heart to tell anyone why he
Walk-on Character
had been demoted to commanding a squad of militia, but Cortana knew. "Could be a survivor?" she asked. Naylor nodded. "Everyone, let's move. You two," he said, pointing at two barely pubescent boys who were still visibly shaking at the sight of the firestorm on the far side of the strait. "Get up over the seawall and watch our flank." *** Jonas led the way through narrow alleyways, taking care to stay in the shadows, away from the main streets. All the time he tried to lead them towards some nearby firefight that seemed only a few streets away, but wherever they moved they always seemed to be on the edge of some great battle. All around them, just beyond their sight, there was gunfire, explosions and the screams of the dying. They would look out into one of the many open spaces, and watch as the blackened paving slabs cracked and sizzled from the heat of the Tau's weapons, fired mere moments before. But they never saw anybody, at least alive. A few bodies littered the ground here and there, stripped of anything that could be considered useful. At last he stopped, only a little short of breath from the rapid retreat from the beach, and instinctively reached for his belt and the flask that wasn't there. "Suggestions, Gue'vesa'ui?" asked Ta'is, peering out of the alley mouth and scanning the street in either direction. "Dammit, dammit, dammit," mumbled Jonas, not really listening. "What was that?" "Hm?" "How should we proceed, Gue'vesa'ui?" He's being awful deferential, shouted the suspicious part of Jonas' mind. "Who cares?" was what he actually replied with. "We're not going to find anybody. Both sides are moving around too much, we might as well just stay here and wait for them to trip over us in the rush. Are you sure the comms are still screwed?" "It would appear so," said Ta'is, looking around. "Stay here, you say," he went on.
"Picky, isn't he?" replied Jonas sarcastically. "All right, how about in there?" he said, pointing out and across the street, where a largely intact apartment block rose high above the surrounding rooftops. "Nice and safe, where nobody'll hurt us at all." He waited for a reaction from Ta'is, but didn't get one. Instead he was silent for a few moments, and glanced quickly back at Lei'tan. Jonas was beginning to understand why he was being so careful over her. Everything about her since the crash had seemed wrong. She was visibly trembling, and sweat poured across her face. Her eyes were constantly darting this way and that, and her head was cocked as if straining to hear something. "It'll do," said Ta'is eventually. Then, with a few quick hand gestures to the rest of his team, he took a few cautious steps out into the street. Jonas turned his attention back to Lei'tan. She really was a mess. "Hey, kid," he whispered. Lei'tan turned to face him, or at least to face in his direction. Her eyes seemed to be focused on a point several inches behind his head. "Are you okay?" he asked. She moved in a blur, her face contorting into a look of blind, panicked fury as she suddenly leapt up screaming and brought her fist round to strike him full in the face. Her clenched fist was perhaps only a couple of inches from his face when suddenly Ta'is barrelled into her, knocking her off her feet and sending them both sprawling across the alley floor. In a heartbeat Ta'is was on her again, pinning her to the ground and covering her mouth with his hand as her screaming continued. Jonas looked on in disbelief, blinking and touching his face, just to make sure his jaw hadn't actually just been broken. Ta'is was saying nothing, just staring into her eyes, and soon enough her struggling ceased. He took his hand away from her mouth, as her screams died down to little more than a whisper. What language she was speaking Jonas had no idea. "What," began Jonas, but he found himself unable to think of anything to say. "Get moving," said Ta'is, still staring fixedly into Lei'tan's eyes. She at least seemed calm once again. "We'll follow you in a few
moments." *** The squad stood around the heretic's corpse, staring at it in morbid, slack-jawed fascination. Jared stepped forwards quickly and gave it a little kick, then jumped back as if he thought it was going to reach out and grab him in retaliation. "Such is the fate of heretics, lads," said Naylor, with a manner akin to that of a schoolteacher, never missing another opportunity to reiterate the oldest, most redundant lesson in the book. "Yes, Sarge," they chorused. "All right, let's move out. If there's any survivors then they'll have headed inland." As the rest of them dispersed, Cortana crouched down and looked closely at the body. It had been stripped of anything useful, if such a word could apply to xenotech. "What are you doing, Cort?" asked Naylor. "I said we're moving out." Cortana ignored him. Something had caught her eye. She carefully lifted up his head, and looked at the back of his neck. Amongst the closely shaved hairs was a tattoo, and one Cortana recognised very well. This man had been a guardsman, a soldier of the Emperor, and now he had died a traitor. She let his head fall back and picked up her weapon. "Sorry, Sergeant Naylor," she said, and then jogged back towards the squad. "What were you doing?" asked Naylor. "Did you find anything useful?" "Nothing, Sergeant. Sorry," she said absent-mindedly. Her mind was on other things, like tattoos. That man hadn't been just any traitor guardsman. *** <<Amethia, Heaven's Gate eastern docklands, two days after Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> Cortana had not yet risen from her bed when she was shaken carefully awake. Spears of sunlight stabbed through the gaps around the window shutters, partially illuminating the face of
Naylor as he leant over her, holding up a folded piece of paper. She recognised it immediately. She had always viewed the arrival of one of Uncle Jacob's letters with trepidation. The censors never read Uncle Jacob's letters, she thought, pulling it from its envelope. He was always good at making friends in the right places. The good thing about that was that you always got the truth. The bad thing about that was that you always got the truth. She maintained a meaningful silence, not reading the letter until Naylor got the message and left her alone. Out in the hall, her mother stood waiting, the growing curve of her belly now quite clear for all to see. There had been some whispers about that around the district. Cortana watched as he tried to place a hand on her mother's shoulder, as if to console her, but she pushed him away and walked off, eyes reddened. Confused, and increasingly worried, she carefully unfolded the letter and began to read, skipping over the usual administrative formalities at the top. Hi Cort. You know I'm not one with words, no matter how many letters I write to you lot back home, so I'm not going to bother sugarcoating it or anything. Things are really bad here, I can't tell a lie. I can only hope that none of you live to see the things we have here on this hellhole. All those things the priest tells you, well, they're true. The whole galaxy is out to get us, and they're not nice about it. If they ever come knocking on Amethia's door, promise your Uncle Jacob you'll do whatever it takes to stop them. The Tau, I know you've heard all about them. They're who we're up against most days, but to be honest these days it's hard to know who your enemy really is. I've heard there's been mass defections. Whole regiments sometimes have gone over to the Tau. They keep feeding us these lies, but some of the lads don't have the strength to ignore it all. Men who we thought were our friends and comrades have turned their guns on us and pissed on the
Emperor's face. I'm really sorry, Cort, but that's not really what I'm writing to tell you. Your father's dead. Those Tau-loving heretic bastards killed him. A few lads slipped away from our base to join them and he was unlucky enough to be on sentry duty when they went passed. I don't know if I'm going to survive much longer here, but if I don't get off this world, and I never come home, you've got to promise me that if the Tau ever come to Amethia, you're to fight them to your dying breath. All of you. I've never seen a place as beautiful as Home in all my time out here in the galaxy, and I won't see it fall to those s***-eating xenos, no matter what. Be strong, Cort. These are bad times we live in. Karras Jacob. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Sep 15 2010, 10:39 PM Jonas stepped out onto the balcony, and let the refreshing breeze wash over him. This was a tall building. From this balcony, just below the roof, one could look out over most of the eastern city. There were few sights more spectacular. Below, the warehouses of the docklands gave way to the market district, a chequerboard of wide open plazas and wide, flat-roofed buildings in the traditional style. Huge statues rose in the centre of every square, cut from the purest bronze, marble, gold and even gemstones. Even from this height you could easily sea them all sparkling in the afternoon sunlight. Away to the northeast, on the edge of the city, the huge rocky precipice of the Collis Ecclesialis rose high over the surrounding area, and atop it stood the Sancta Rosaria, a huge church complex
Walk-on Character
that dwarfed any other building on the planet. The great central dome that sat atop it was said to be over a hundred yards wide, and was crowned with a massive statue of the Emperor himself cast from a single, massive diamond that cast its gaze out across the cityscape, supposedly looking deep into the souls of its inhabitants so that they might remain pure. No doubt the Imperium's defences were focused around it. "Why did you leave?" Jonas turned, and saw Ta'is step up to the parapet beside him, Lei'tan at his side. "What?" "Why did you leave?" Ta'is repeated. "This is your homeworld, Gue'vesa'ui." "And just what makes you think that?" "You just seem too comfortable, and you know your way around too well. It was fairly obvious after observing you here for a few hours." "Clever boy," said Jonas, sarcastically. "You sure the Ethereal didn't tell you? Bastard promised me he'd keep it a secret." "No," said Ta'is. "Aun'el told me nothing of your origins. But now I understand why you were recruited into this Cadre." "I can hardly wait," said Jonas dryly. That was another thing that disturbed Jonas. Ta'is knew too much. It was like he was always watching, waiting, observing everything, scrutinising your every move. It was just... creepy. "Aun'el knew we were coming to this world sooner or later. No doubt he believed that you would be an asset to us, for intelligence, public relations and so forth." "So it couldn't have been anything else, then?" Ta'is shook his head. "No. You're a decrepit, undisciplined drunk, Gue'vesa'ui. What other use could you have had?" "There's no need for that," said Jonas. "I take it you don't like me then. Just because I committed the sinful crime of being, you know, Human?" "I don't like you, Gue'vesa'ui, because you are purely self-serving. You joined us merely because it suited your own ends. The Greater
Good means nothing to you, and so you are nothing to me." "Like I said. Human," said Jonas, weakly. There was a pause. Jonas had never really had an actual conversation with Ta'is before. He was glad of that now. "And that is why I don't like you, Ta'is." "I know." Well, at least they had some common ground then, he thought. "You never answered my question," said Ta'is. He didn't give up, did he? Jonas sighed, and then shrugged. "I was in the defence force. The Imperium came to collect the tithe of troops, and that was that. Twelve years of seeing what the Imperium was really like. Can you believe I actually used to think everyone in the galaxy lived like this?" he said, making a sweeping gesture out over the edge of the balcony. "Reality is a harsh mistress." Ta'is nodded slowly. "Course, you want to know why I even joined the forces? Simple: the women. They love a man wearing a uniform and carrying a deadly weapon. Yep, I know it might not seem like it now, but there was a time when Jonas Varris was quite the lady's man. That's how I met my wife, y'know..." he said, but trailed off. Damn. He had been trying not to think about that one thing, and had almost succeeded these past few months. "Your wife?" said Ta'is, and Jonas detected a hint of disbelief in there, although with Ta'is it was difficult to ever be sure. Face and voice like a champion tarot player. "Yes," he went on. "She died. And if you ask me anything else about it I swear to the Emperor I'll gut you." *** <<Medusa V, Tau security installation on Charybdis Crest, twenty five days before Final Evacuation>> The Fire Warrior led Jonas through the corridors of the compound. It was dark, dusty, and smelled like s***. Not like a Tau place at all, which Jonas felt was more like a combination of raw fish and disinfectant. Jonas figured they must have captured this place from the Imperium what else were they going to use such a place for than a prison? There were muffled, angry shouts from behind the doors that densely lined the walls. The rooms beyond must have
been pretty small. Eventually his escort stopped by one particular door, engraved with the characters 'L135' at around head height, and took a bunch of keys from her belt. Finding the right one, she struggled with the ancient lock for a moment before the bolts scraped back reluctantly. "You have ten minutes," she said in perfect Gothic, then pushed past him and trudged back up the corridor. They had been the only words she had spoken to him in the entire time they had been together. Moody bitch, thought Jonas, taking a swig from his flask. He had to hand it to them though; they sure understood the finer subtleties of brain-melting intoxicants. Fixing the flask back onto his belt, he pulled the door open. The hinges protested greatly, groaning and screeching all the way. The room beyond was, indeed, absolutely tiny. A mattress on the floor, and that was pretty much all the floor space, and a small mattress at that. And sat against the wall was a familiar face, at least beneath the layers of grime and sweat. "Hello KJ," said Jonas. KJ raised his head. "You?" "Surprised to see me, old friend?" "A little, although I probably shouldn't be. So how's treachery working out for you?" "Let's not do this," said Jonas wearily. "I came here to try and help you." "The xenos in need of another stooge, are they? Think old KJ'll fit the bill? Look, what makes you think I'm going to cooperate with you of all people? After what happened that night you decided to run?" Jonas grinned. "Look, if this is about that business with the latrine..." Jonas began, but KJ stopped him mid-sentence. "Abe's dead." The words hit Jonas like a sledgehammer. "What? He can't be. I only..."
"Nicked an artery. He bled to death before he could make it back to base. The next morning we found a trail of blood fifty yards long. The poor bastard did well." "Look," said Jonas desperately, "I'm sorry. I never meant for anything like this to happen, you believe that, right?" "Oh, I don't doubt it. I'm sure you only meant to hurt him. But he's dead, whether you meant it that way or not. I just hope all this is worth it, Jonas, whatever it is they offered you." Jonas nodded. "It is," he said. "I'm sorry, but it is. I'm going to do my bit here for the Tau, but then when we finally leave this s***hole I'll put down my weapon for good. And then, I'm going home. I'm going to see Amethia again, and I'm going to see my family. What chance did you really think we had of that, so long as we were in the Guard?" KJ frowned. "Your family." "Yes. I know I never was the good husband and father, but twelve years of nothing but fighting, drinking, praying and screwing random whores can make a man yearn for the more wholesome things in life." "Look, Jonas," said KJ. "All this s*** that's happened. I'm not going to pretend to understand how you can believe these xenos, to turn your back on everything we've fought for all these years, and to tell you the truth I hate you a little for it. But, regardless, we've been through some times together. I can't remember the number of times you've saved my life. You'll always be my friend, Jonas, so you know I could never lie to you over something like this." Jonas said nothing. He had a sinking feeling about what was coming. KJ was always the man who knew what was going on. If somebody on Holy Terra farted, KJ would be the first to hold his nose. "I just got word from Collis, you know the guy who works on one of the supply ships from back home?" Jonas nodded uncertainly. "He says... well... your wife and kid are dead. Warehouse fire or something, five months ago by best estimates. Difficult to tell though, what with the storms." He had a look of genuine remorse. "I'm really sorry, Jonas." "Shut up," was all Jonas was able to say. The enormity of what had
been said was like a tidal wave washing over him. He felt moments from his recent life flashing across his mind. He remembered vividly pulling the Aquilla pendant from around his neck and casting it aside, and in doing so giving up everything for this one chance. He had sold his soul to unholy xenos, all for this opportunity, and now it had slipped away. "You could be wrong," said Jonas, but without much conviction. "I know. And I hope I am, but you know I've never been wrong about this sort of thing before. I heard about the fall of New Hope over a week before the Colonel told us." And that would be another day Jonas wouldn't forget in a hurry. New Hope had once been a powerhouse of Imperial strength in that part of space. On that day, Jonas and most of the others realised just what was going to happen to Amethia and the other remaining Imperial worlds in the Gemmatus Gap, although many managed to maintain a healthy denial for some time. It was the day Jonas had decided to make contact with the Tau. He fumbled for his flask, but it slipped from his shaking fingers and clattered across the concrete floor. "What are you going to do?" asked KJ. Jonas looked up at him. "I don't know. What will you do?" "Kill myself first chance I get, probably," he replied, and the two of them were able to force a couple of brief, fake smiles at that. Then, without another word from either of them, Jonas dragged the door shut once again and turned the key in the lock. *** Jonas shook his head, and looked past Ta'is at Lei'tan, who had been silent the entire time until now. She was leaning forwards over the parapet and staring out towards the horizon. She had a faint smile on her face. "It's beautiful," she whispered. Jonas and Ta'is followed her gaze, out beyond the eastern limits of the city to the white plains that stretched endlessly into the distance. "What's out there?" asked Ta'is. "That, my boy, is the Asphodel Plains. Thousands of square miles of nothing but these big white flowers, and so flat you could bowl
on it. Nothing much out there, though. We used to bury our dead out there, but they stopped that before I was born. Cremation's the way these days." "What about that?" asked Ta'is again, this time pointing. Jonas didn't even have to look. "That, lad, is the town of Algius Sanitas. Ghost town, been that way for Emperor knows how long. All the kids used to dare each other to go out there. Haunted house stories and all that. I don't think anyone got further than halfway before they got scared and turned back. Even the authorities left the place alone." "Really," said Ta'is flatly. "Yes, really," Jonas went on. "I was one of them kids, I must admit. Chasing ghosts and stuff." "That all seems very irrational," said Ta'is. "Oh, for the Emperor's sake!" said Jonas. Did Ta'is even have a damned childhood? "You know what your problem is, Ta'is? You've got no soul." Ta'is was silent for a moment, but he never lost that calm, apathetic expression of his. "So I've been told," he said. Jonas sighed. He really didn't want to start this up again, but he couldn't help himself. "You see? That's what I'm talking about. I stand here and insult you and you don't give a s***. It's like you were sired by frakking robots or something." "It would seem that that is who I am, Gue'vesa'ui," said Ta'is. He glanced quickly over at Lei'tan, who hadn't moved or, other than those two whispered words, made a single sound in the entire time she had stood there. "Do you have anything more to say?" "Almost," said Jonas. He leaned in closer, and nodded towards Lei'tan. "Why?" he asked. "Why should a heartless bastard like you even give two s***s?" "Because I have to," replied Ta'is solemnly. "Things could get very bad if I don't stay close." "Did old Vort'as tell you that?" Ta'is' silence was answer enough. "Well, it seems to me that you're gonna have to consider the possibility that the old bastard was wrong, eh? Now how's that for a
crazy thought? And I haven't even had a drink in hours." "Right," said Ta'is, and Jonas could see straight away that he had put him on edge. That comment was not perhaps the best idea. Ta'is' cool exterior had been dented, something Jonas hadn't seen happen in all these months together in the cadre. He took a chance, and put his hand on Ta'is' shoulder. Instantly the sense of unease he always felt around Ta'is became much worse, but he tried not to think about it. "Just take care of the kid, alright?" he said. "Whatever it is with her, I sure as hell don't want to find out about it. She's a good kid, Ta'is. She sure as hell doesn't deserve this, you know." "As you say, Gue'vesa'ui." Ta'is pushed the hand off his shoulder and stepped back towards Lei'tan, who was still staring dreamily towards the horizon. "Let's go, Gue'vesa'la," he said. She didn't budge, or even seem to notice him. She looked to Jonas like she was off in her own little dream world. Ta'is took her by the arm, and pulled her away from the parapet. She didn't resist, or even say a word. In fact she seemed so limp that Ta'is almost had to carry her back indoors. He nodded to Jonas as he passed, and Jonas noticed that tears had begun to form in Lei'tan's eyes. He turned away again, glad to be rid of his company, and took one last look at the cityscape before him. Fighting in the nearby districts seemed to have died down. Off towards the Sancta Rosaria, however, the streets were a riot of explosions, and the sounds of intense gunfire echoed out even this far. Amongst it all, however, he completely failed to spot the figures moving across the street, far below. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Sep 16 2010, 11:17 PM
The streets were eerily quiet. The sounds of battle had all but departed this part of the city. No doubt the fighting had moved away towards the Sancta Rosaria. With the Emperor watching over them there, the soldiers of the Imperium would not falter. As for the squad, it seemed they were now officially on their own. Walk-on Character "Nah," said Jared, flicking switches on the vox seemingly at random. "When they're blocking you, you properly know about it. Vox just cuts off like that, and then starts blaring their nasty messages at you." "Really?" said Cortana innocently. "Have you heard these messages?" Jared suddenly looked embarrassed. "Well, no," he said, "but that's what they said in basic." "Of course," said Cortana, turning away. "Of course." She looked around. They were in the slaughterhouse district. No matter how beautiful a place you might find yourself in, there was always somewhere where the dirty work had to be done, and for Heaven's Gate this was it. The buildings were very small, rugged things, not at all like the rest of the city. They were little more than loading areas for the main factories, which were far below ground. It helped control the noise and smell, if nothing else. Just to the east of them, Cortana knew, was one of the many residential districts, a loose sprawl of apartment blocks and hab complexes. It might as well have been any other of the hundreds that stretched across the city, but for one detail. Cortana called it home. She remembered it had been a prime recruitment ground for the regiments, and had been the home of many of the men who had gone off with the tithe all those years ago. Most of the regiments that had been chosen to go back then had consisted of men who grew up around here, and Cortana remembered that they had all gone off drunk, mostly to get themselves scarred. They had all had the same one, usually on the backs of their necks but occasionally, Cortana would later learn, somewhere a little less savoury; the purple star of Amethia, with a drop of deep red blood falling from the upper-right point. Nobody else had had that tattoo since then, out of respect for those that had gone to fight for the Emperor. Nobody else in the entire Imperium should have had one. Nobody. "Sergeant?" she said. "What is it, Cort?" replied Naylor.
"I think we should go this way," she said, pointing eastwards. "What makes you say that?" he asked. "If we're going to find the enemy, this is the best place to look, right here. Lots of places to hide in this district." After all these years, Cortana thought, would they really want to go back to work? No, they would want to go home. That was where they would find the traitors. "Because," she said, looking desperately to the east. Then her eyes fell on the answer, the lie she was looking for. "Up there," she said, pointing. A huge, white apartment block rose above the surrounding rooftops. "They'll be there. There's no better vantage point in this area." Naylor looked thoughtful. "Isn't that your place, Cort?" asked Jared, from her side. His tone was slightly mocking. "Need your mother, do you?" He chuckled a little, and some of the others grinned. "Shut up, Jared," she said quietly. "Oh, come on, Cort, it was just a joke. No need to take it so personally." In a flash, she reached out with one hand and grabbed him by the arm, swinging him round and slamming him into the wall. She brought her face in close to his. "Listen to me, Jared," she hissed. "I'm not going to take any of your s***, do you understand? You're not going to mess this up for m... for us, okay?" Jared nodded slowly. Cortana was aware that everyone was staring at them. She let go of his arm and walked away. "Cort," said Naylor. "What the hell...?" "Sergeant, we should move," she said. She'd clearly got their attention now, and she had to make use of that fact. The traitors couldn't be allowed to slip away. "Every second counts." Naylor glanced at Jared, then back to Cortana, then away at the apartment block in the distance. "Right," he said. "But no more of that. I won't have any dissent in my squad. Not even from you, Cortana."
"Yes, Sergeant," she said with a nod. *** Jonas sat down heavily on the bench with the others, who were all talking away in that strange lingo of theirs. Jonas had been with them for months, but had not been able to pick up more than a few phrases here and there. Learning was for kids. The apartment was cool, but not unpleasantly so. There was the sound of crashing in the kitchen. None of them had eaten since the morning, so they were indulging in the age-old soldiers' pastime of looting. It was refreshing to know that some things never changed. He turned as someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was Jae'ro, with a bottle in his hand. "I thought you might like this, Gue'vesa'ui," he said, offering it to him. Jonas took it, and read the label. It was whisky, and good stuff too by the looks of it. He smiled. None of the Gue'vesa here had ever had a drink in their life, and so had little real understanding of what the stuff actually did. Little would they know that in the Guard, drinking whilst on duty might very well get you shot, whether by the enemy or by some officer or Commissar. On the other hand, it had been a day to make any man thirsty. "Thanks," he said, patting Jae'ro on the arm, then unscrewed the cap. Just as he was about to take a swig, he realised he was being stared at, and looked around. Ta'is was looking at him meaningfully. Meeting his gaze, and without blinking, Jonas took a deep pull on the bottle. What kind of a man would he be if he gave two s***s about what a heartless son of a bitch like Ta'is thought of him? He screwed the cap back on the bottle, and placed it down gently on the floor by his feet. Lei'tan was sat on the bench at Ta'is' side. She didn't look good. Sweat ran down her face, washing away the layers of blood and dirt to reveal the pale skin beneath. She visibly shivered, and kept glancing at the window. He lips moved slightly, as if whispering something, but Jonas couldn't hear anything. Everyone else had noticed that something was very wrong with her. There were some worried glances, whispers that perhaps weren't discreet enough, and a conspicuously large space around Ta'is and Lei'tan that was empty of people. So it was that everyone was far too focused on her to be worrying about other things. Like the fact that Me'sha'is hadn't reported back
from her watch downstairs on time. There was a crash, and the double doors burst open in a storm of splinters. The Imperial troops, perhaps twenty of them, rushed in with their weapons raised. They were all shouting and screaming curses at them. Kais reached for his weapon, but before he could even raise it one of them shot him in the head and it exploded like an overripe blood fruit. As they fanned out around them, Jonas slowly got to his feet and raised his hands. "Nobody try anything," he said. "Any heroes today aren't going to be remembered for long." "Listen to the old man," said a voice. A man, perhaps in his forties although he looked pretty rough for it, walked through the door behind the rest of them and smiled. "All of you, on your knees with your hands behind your heads." Hesitantly, after a couple of nods from Ta'is and Jonas, the Gue'vesa complied. "We got 'em, Sarge," said one of the boys. It was only then that Jonas realised just how young they all were. Some of them probably hadn't even seen a razor yet. Just a bunch of pubescent lads, out for glory, and... one girl. Jonas noticed she had been silent the entire time. He also realised that she had been the one who had killed Kais. He glanced down. His body still lay, twisted, face down on the floor where he had fallen. "Well, it looks like your little hunch paid off, Private... what are you doing?" Jonas looked around at the girl. She was walking behind the line of kneeling Gue'vesa, pulling their heads forwards and looking at the back of their necks. She ignored the Sergeant. "I said, Private, what are you doing?" Eventually she stopped, and looked across at him. "I'm busy, old man," she hissed. Jonas managed to suppress a smile as he saw the expression on the man's face change. How many times he had wished he could have said something like that to a superior. "Private," the sergeant said coldly, "I asked you, what are you doing? And if you dare speak to me that way again in front of our enemies, then..." "Then what?" she suddenly screamed. "What are you going to do?
Fake another heart attack and go back to screwing my mother? Did you really think I didn't know how you betrayed my father? He would still have been here with us if..." She stopped, mid-flow, and took a deep breath. "Private," said the sergeant, a little nervously, "this is hardly the..." "Enough," she said, then raised her pistol and calmly shot him in the face. His suddenly headless body stood there for a moment, and then toppled slowly backwards, landing heavily on the tiles. The room was silent. Some of the Imperials lowered their weapons, taking their eyes off their captives. "Keep your weapons on them, you stupid bastards!" the girl shouted. They all instantly complied, and Jonas could tell that they were terrified. All that teenage bravado had been swept away in an instant. He looked around at the other Gue'vesa. They were all nearly as shocked as those poor boys. Well, nearly all of them. Lei'tan, well, it was impossible to tell what she was thinking anymore, the poor kid. Ta'is on the other hand was calm as anything. His eyes darted this way and that, and he had the look of a coiled spring about him. That's what he always did. He watched, he listened, and he waited. Jonas noticed though with some concern that he had been separated from Lei'tan. He didn't really know why, but that couldn't be good. The girl then turned her attention back to the Gue'vesa. "Anybody got a tattoo they'd like to share with me? You?" she asked, pointing and moving along the line, eventually stopping in front of Lei'tan. "What about you?" Lei'tan said nothing, and remained still, staring at the floor. The girl reached down and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her up into eye contact. "You look a mess," she said, grinning. She let go of her again, and gripped her pistol. Lei'tan lowered her head. "Leave me alone," she said. "Please, I can't... not much longer. He is waking up again." The girl suddenly seemed a little thrown. "Are all of you this insane?" she asked. "And what do I call you, little heretic?"
Lei'tan suddenly raised her head. The look of fear, confusion and despair was gone. The expression on her face now could have scattered entire armies. "My name is Gue'shas'vesa'la Dal'yth Suam'saal Lei'tan," she said, "and very soon I am going to kill you." It didn't sound like a threat, more a cold, confident statement of what was to come. There was no 'if' hidden between the lines there. But the look in Lei'tan's bloodshot eyes belied the seething, barely concealed anger that festered below. For the first time since they had arrived in the city, Jonas had to admit to himself that he was afraid. Even the Imperial girl took a step backwards before recovering herself. "Really?" she said, gripping her pistol ever more tightly. "And what chance do you think a little xeno whore such as yourself has? What chance do any of you pieces of s*** have? We are the children of Amethia, of the Emperor Himself, and we shall resist your kind until the bitter end." Jonas saw the Imperial girl's hand twitch slightly. Keeping her gaze locked with Lei'tan's, she raised the pistol a few inches. He took a deep breath. "Resistance?" he said mockingly, in the thickest Amethian accent he could muster from those distant memories. "I could put up better resistance with my arsehole. And believe me, after thirty years in an all-male regiment, I know what I'm talking about." The girl shot him a look that would have frozen the stars. She slowly backed away from Lei'tan and walked towards him. "You are Amethian? Another traitor? Like your friend on the beach?" Jonas nodded. "That a problem?" She stopped just in front of him, and reached up for her breast pocket. She pulled out a folded, crinkled sheet of paper and handed it to him. "Read it." He unfolded it, a little hesitantly, and started to read. It seemed at first glance to be a letter. He never was one with the written word, and so had only got as far as the second line when she lowered her pistol and fired a single shot.
The pain filled his belly like fire, and he glanced down at the hole where his groin used to be. He was about to cry out, then she fired again. This time the slug slammed into his chest, and he felt all the air blown out of him. There was no pain this time, though. He fell back, letting the letter fall from his fingers. It all should have been much faster, he thought, but things really did seem to slow before his eyes. He heard a scream, and he knew straight away that it was Lei'tan. The Imperial girl had only just begun to turn when she cannoned into the back of her and the two went tumbling to the floor. Straight away there was another shout, as Ta'is jumped to his feet and charged the nearest Imperial. With a single strike the boy was down, and Ta'is had his weapon. The room then erupted into chaos as the Gue'vesa rushed their captors. There was gunfire, and screaming, and the sound of furniture smashing and bodies hitting the floor. With his head resting on the tiles, Jonas watched as Lei'tan and the girl exchanged blows. It was horrible to watch, the kind of hatred that was being played out before him. The two kicked, punched, clawed and bit at each other as they rolled across the floor, a constant scream of raw anger coming from them both. Suddenly, the girl's head accidentally smacked into the corner of the nearby table, and as she was knocked off guard for the briefest moment Lei'tan was on her feet and grabbing her by the scruff of the neck. Then she pulled her down and smashed her, face-first against the tiled floor. She lifted her up, and then brought her down again and again, each time with yet another bone-shattering crunch. Eventually she left her to lie there, and started to punch her in the head, over and over until in the end there was no other sound in the room except for the wet smacking of flesh and bones breaking beneath the constant impacts. This carried on for what seemed to Jonas like some time, and he continued to watch impassively, ignoring the voices that spoke to him and the hands that pulled at his clothes. After a while, though, someone came and dragged Lei'tan back and pulled her to her feet. She spun, snarling at this interloper, but then froze when she looked into Ta'is' face. The anger, the hate, it suddenly evaporated before those cold blue eyes of his. "I'm sorry," she whispered, so quietly that Jonas could only just hear it. "I'm so sorry. It's too late. Please forgive me." Then her fist lanced out, striking Ta'is full in the face. He staggered back, tripping over one of the bodies and landing sprawled on the floor. Lei'tan turned and ran, and Jonas heard her running footsteps echo away down the stairs. The people huddled around Jonas shook him, shouted at him, but he wasn't really listening. His eyes darted around, and came to rest
on the letter that had fallen to the floor. He could only see a small part of it, but tried to read what he could. DATE: 7587006.M42 SOURCE: Pvt Karras Jacob, 2nd Amethian "Cleavers", Edethor, Medusa V Warzone INTENDED RECIPIENT: Jonas Cortana, Unit 5, District 17, Heaven's Gate, Amethia, Gemmatus Subsector ("The Brightstone Gate") THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: "The rewards of tolerance are treachery and betrayal." He was aware of the voices around him being raised, and of being shaken even harder, but now he really couldn't care. As he let his eyes slide shut for the last time, he could only think of two things. Cortana was dead, and Lei'tan had gone.
Kasrkin
Posted: Sep 17 2010, 09:39 PM CHAPTER THREE "Everything you have been told is a lie." Anon.
Walk-on Character
*** With the sun setting on the far side of the city, the east had fallen into a dim half-light. After quickly checking that the way was clear, Lei'tan slipped through a small gateway in the eastern wall and moved out cautiously across the open ground beyond. She looked around. For kilometres in both directions were row after row of white marble headstones, fashioned in the style of the double-headed eagle of the Gue'la Imperium. They were for the most part well-maintained, but reading some of the inscriptions it was apparent that they were very old indeed. She continued onwards between the graves. Quick glances at some
of them revealed the pattern; the newer ones were further out from the walls, but conversely the further she walked the more degraded they seemed, and the more wild and untamed the grass that grew around them. It was perhaps several hundred metres on that the rows of graves ended, cracked and dirty things almost completely consumed by the flora that grew up around them; great tall fleshy stems that grew up to shoulder height, studded with delicate white flowers. What Lei'tan noticed most of all was the stillness of this place. Barely the slightest hint of a breeze blew at all, and despite the heat of earlier that day the air was now quite cool against her skin. She stopped for a moment to take it all in, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply. A soothing calmness filled her, but only for a moment. Even as she let the breath out again she could feel It returning. Always at the edge of her vision she thought she could see shadows moving through the grass. The constant chattering voices; not in her head, but actually around her, whispering into her ears in a thousand different tongues. Though the words were meaningless, she nevertheless felt she could understand the emotions expressed. Cold sweat ran from every pore, and she twitched as she felt her entire body itch uncontrollably. She slapped her hands against her ears to try and drown out the sound, and was startled to find that they were wet, and sticky to the touch. Pulling them back to look at them, she saw that they were covered in blood. It had only been a few hours at most, but she had almost entirely forgotten about that. *** <<Shas training facility on Ya'monat, three days after Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> Lei'tan listened as the wind howled outside the training dome. It was almost over now; the Trials were complete and they were all assured of a place in the armies of the Tau Empire. These last few sessions in the dome were mere formalities, more a way of filling the remaining few days than anything else. It was a wonder the Gue'vesa'ui were able to keep the Saal focused on the job at hand, rather than the continuing war in the Brightstone Gate. There was no question that they would be sent anywhere else. The Shas of Ya'monat had had little other purpose for hundreds of years. But all that would have to wait, sadly. They weren't Gue'vesa'la yet, a fact that the Ui had spent many a rant over the past few days drumming into their heads at every opportunity. So it was that the Gue'vesa'saal found themselves here now, faced with several solid hours of hand-to-hand training, long accepted as a necessary evil by the Shas'ar'tol. It was okay, though. She didn't quite hate these
sessions nearly as much as most of the other Saal. In fact, for some reason she could not fathom, today she found herself rather looking forward to it. After they had been lined up with their partners, Lei'tan looked around to see who had been paired off. Her eyes quickly settled on Y'ray standing across one and opposite from her. Since the other night she had seldom been out of his presence. Noticing her staring, he nodded in recognition, a bemused look on his face. Smiling, she turned back to her partner, a Saal by the name of Al'ka. Lei'tan felt her name had been well chosen not the biggest or the strongest, but she was the master of fighting dirty and hitting you where it hurt the most. The Gue'vesa'ui loved to pair them against one another. Lei'tan stood there, waiting for the signal to begin, twitching with impatience and shivering a little against the cold, wondering why everyone else seemed so comfortable. "Are you okay, Lei'tan?" said Al'ka quietly. "You seem a little pale..." And then she launched herself forward, right as the Gue'vesa'ui shouted the order to start. Lei'tan had seen this before a dozen times though, and stepping aside swiftly she grabbed Al'ka's arm and twisted, then kicked her legs out from underneath her. But she didn't let go, even though she knew she should. Her grip tightened, and with one more twist she heard a click, and a squeal of pain. Grinning manically, she raised a fist, bringing it down squarely into Al'ka's face... But there was no strength in it, and it merely struck her limply on the cheek. "Are you all right?" said a voice from above, and she jerked away to see Y'ray standing over her, looking at Al'ka in confusion. Her elbow was bent at a strange angle. "What happened?" Al'ka moaned quietly, and tried to sit up. She didn't even look at Lei'tan. "I I don't know," said Lei'tan. She saw that the Gue'vesa'ui was coming over, but none of the other Saal seemed to be paying any attention. "I don't know what came over me," she said, shivering, this time with fear. She had a horrible feeling she did know. She looked at Y'ray, who had knelt down to look at Al'ka's arm. It was like before, she suddenly realised, and again he had been there
to somehow stop her. In spite of everything else, she allowed herself a brief smile of relief. So long as he was there, everything would be all right. There would be no blood on her hands. The very next day, Y'ray was gone. *** She tried to wipe her hands clean on her clothing, but the stains had already set and would not come off. Trying to ignore the distractingly wet, sticky feeling, she walked on. With every step she took away from the city, she felt that little bit more at peace, yet no sooner than had she lifted her foot again It would return, a deafening cacophony throughout her mind and body that threatened to overwhelm every rational thought. She knew what was happening, though, of that much she was certain. It was calling to her. Its power was growing, and soon It would come for her again. It wanted her to know that. Something suddenly made her stop and turn around, a strange feeling that she was being followed. She didn't think she had been walking for that long, but somehow the city seemed much further away than it should have been, a great dark silhouette against the swirling purple sunset beyond. Lei'tan nodded to herself in understanding. It was so stupid. It was too late for her, she knew; he couldn't help her anymore. She glanced at her hands again. Far too late. Looking once more to the east, she picked up her pace. *** Mon'suam dropped nimbly from the Piranha to the ground, gripping her pulse rifle tightly. The ground was muddy, and she had to steady herself on the vehicle to stop herself from slipping. The heat was stifling, and the rain that had evidently fallen earlier had done nothing to help the humidity, which was now so heavy that it was like walking through soup. She looked around cautiously. A couple of Kroot bodies lay face down in the mud, partially swallowed by the ground and already reeking of decay. They held no interest for her, though. She had come here for one reason, and she probably didn't have all that much time. She and the Piranha would soon be noticed as being gone, and then it would be no time at all until they found her. She turned to the bunker entrance. Its doors were closed, but twisted and broken on their hinges where hellgun fire had impacted. Thumbing off the safety on her rifle, Mon'suam pulled
what remained of the doors aside and stepped through onto the stairs. The stench of blood and decay hit her in the face like a sledgehammer, and she covered her mouth with one hand as she descended and tried to blink the tears from her eyes, wishing that she hadn't left her helmet back in the city. The strip-lights along the ceiling were mostly broken. A few still flickered erratically, illuminating the scene of death before her. Gue'la blood had run down the steps in a torrent, but had now congealed into a solid, sticky red waterfall. Her hooves made a slight sucking sound with every step. The first body was at the bottom of the stairs, twisted and contorted until it wasn't even shaped like a Gue'la anymore. She was slightly disappointed to see that its face was still covered by its helmet. Mon'suam stepped over it cautiously, only to be confronted with more. The next was not even a body, only a stack of severed limbs in the centre of the corridor. The head and torso were nowhere to be seen. The blood along the passage was still mostly liquid, and it pooled around Mon'suam's hooves as she continued on. The walls were coated too; great crimson splatters and lines of arterial spray. In spite of the carnage, she allowed herself a brief smile of satisfaction at the thought of so many dead Gue'la, at the same time hoping that whatever had dealt with them was no longer here, or at least was more favouring of Tau. But none of this particularly fazed her, save for where the blood had been used to write messages on the walls. Some of it was illegible, other parts in languages alien to Mon'suam. But one message stood out, drawn in large, bold lettering: YOUR SISTER IS THIS WAY, above a rough arrow pointing away down the corridor. She froze in her tracks, and brought her rifle up into her shoulder. Shutting her mouth tight against the stench she turned back and forth, aiming up and down the corridor, checking for vents in the ceiling, listening intently for the slightest presence. But there was nothing. Keeping her weapon raised and her finger on the trigger, she decided to continue onward. She had already come this far, and had faced far worse moments than this. After all the horrors of Medusa V, what more could the galaxy throw at her? She reached a turn in the corridor, and became aware of voices at the edge of hearing. They sounded like Gue'la, but she couldn't be sure. Something about them didn't sound right. She went on more swiftly now, drawn to the sound of her enemies. The sound grew louder now, a low, pained moaning sound, coupled with something else, the sound of something breathing, quickly and heavily, echoing along the dim passageway towards her. She had been checking each side room as she passed. Each had been still, dark, and empty of life. There was one locked door, but Mon'suam could hear no sound coming from within. More
armoured bodies littered the floor, and those fat, hairy jungle insects had begun to gather to plant their offspring. Two of the Gue'la had been stripped naked and posed as if they were mating, front to back. In disgust, she gave one of them a sharp kick and it slid off, lifeless, onto the concrete with a dull smack. Blank, dead eyes stared back up at her, its face frozen into a terrible grimace. She had stopped counting the corpses when she reached twentyfour. The rest she tried to ignore as she passed. The sounds she heard had grown louder still, and eventually when she reached the next door she knew she had found the source. Light framed the door, which had been crudely marked in blood with the word NURSERY. Slowly, she reached for the handle, keeping her weapon ready in the other hand, and opened the door. What she saw within almost made her pass out. Perhaps a dozen Gue'la sat, lay, or hung within, all as naked as the day they were born. Many were missing limbs. Others were burnt and blackened. All had been beaten until the blood ran, and all screamed and cowered in their restraints when they saw her. The stench in here was, if anything, even worse than out in the corridor. Blood, vomit, urine, faeces and severed appendages covered the floor, and the local fauna crawled over everything, nibbling, scratching, biting, and laying their filthy eggs in open wounds. Mon'suam had almost dropped her rifle when she felt a hand on her shoulder and a foul-smelling breath against her cheek. "Welcome to the party, Mon'suam," said a cheerful voice. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Sep 19 2010, 03:08 AM It was nearly pitch-black when Lei'tan passed the first buildings of Algius Sanitas. By the looks of them they had never been particularly grand things but after time had done its work they were little more than four low, crumbling walls beneath the open sky. The tall, thick flowers grew everywhere, sprouting from between broken paving slabs. They had grown progressively taller as Lei'tan continued further from the city, and now the tallest of them stood
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almost twice as high as her. It had taken her a while to notice, but no other life was to be seen or heard from on these plains. No insects flew in the air, no rodents crawled in the soil; nothing stirred at all. Here within the maze of tumbledown buildings, though, even the sea of green and white began to subside, and eventually they too were gone. The buildings stood taller, stronger and prouder here, though time had clearly taken its inevitable toll. She stood still for a few moments, once again savouring the peace that she found in this place. But as always there was Its presence, following her. She instinctively knew that It would follow her to the end of the world if need be. But this time there was something different. Someone different. No, she thought, understanding shattering her temporary peace. By the Tau'va, no. Not her. Not that. She broke into a run. She didn't know what she was looking for, or exactly why she was looking for it, but she had to find it before it was too late. The Mont'au was going to take this world, and the might of the entire Coalition could not hope to stand against it. She found what she was looking for at the centre of the town, in the grandest, most intact building remaining. Judging by the scaffolding and other building materials that had been left around it, its builders had not even had a chance to finish their work before this town was abandoned. Inside the large double doors, a large hall opened up. One set of stairs rose up to the next level, and another disappeared below ground. The floor was made of tiles of white marble she saw that a red carpet was to have been laid down, but it remained rolled in its seal against the wall. It was dark in the basement level. Without her helmet's vision enhancers to guide her, she pulled her flashlight from her kit and continued on. As with upstairs, dozens of items of furniture and ornamentation were piled up in their packaging against one wall, preserved against the ages, but nothing of interest or importance. Lei'tan felt a sudden pang of despair. Had she come all this way for nothing? She walked around the room, feeling at the walls, pulling aside the ancient furnishings and feeling them practically crumble beneath her fingers. Then, suddenly, she felt something. In one spot, the floor depressed slightly beneath her feet, and she could hear the groan as it strained against her weight upon it. She stamped a foot experimentally; once, twice, three times. It didn't sound right. There was definitely a hollow underneath the flooring here. She continued to stamp her
foot against that patch of floor, and soon enough there was a crunch and it disappeared up to the ankle. She smiled to herself. She was going the right way. Everything would be all right. It didn't take her long to create a hole big enough for her body to squeeze through comfortably. A ladder from the main hall upstairs, when fully extended, was just long enough to reach the bottom, which must have been fifteen metres or so down. In the next level, the walls and floor were cut from rough stone, a long, narrow passage descending gently into the darkness. There was dust and dirt everywhere, and as she walked her footfalls brought up great clouds of the stuff, stinging her eyes and causing her to cough heavily. Covering her face with one bloodstained hand, and treading as lightly as she could, she carried on down the passage. It continued for some time, eventually opening out into a small chamber. A quick glance revealed some scattered pieces of equipment: a few metal crates, a broken fossil fuel lantern, a vox caster and other odds and ends. Dominating the wall before her, though, was a huge metal door, smooth, black and seemingly free of corrosion. Several heavy wooden planks had been fixed across the doorframe, and a single plaque attached. It too had been rusted, but looking closely Lei'tan found she could just make out some of it, engraved in a heavy copperplate font in the refined tongue of Imperial High Gothic: SEALE. .. .RDE. OF INQUISIT.. TYRION .. THE ORDO XEN.. OF HI. MOST HOLY ..QUISIT..N 783..63.M36 M36. Lei'tan was familiar enough with the Gue'la calendar. This place was truly ancient, older even than the Tau Empire itself. It was clear to her why the Imperium had sealed this place, and with such evident haste. It was peaceful. No, it was peace itself, and the Imperium lived only for war. Such a place was anathema to them. But not to her. She pulled at the planks, which practically crumbled between her fingers, and let them fall to the floor. The door itself was bare, save for a single symbol in the centre; a hand, with four digits. She placed her hand against it, and they instantly swung silently inward. She picked up her flashlight and walked onward, was drawn onward, down the steps beyond. The passage beyond the door was
different again. A single switchback staircase, constructed from the same smooth dark metal as the door, descended for what seemed like an age into the depths. There were no markings on the walls, no detritus, no sound nor movement of air; no disorder of any kind. There was a handrail to one side of the steps; she placed her hand on it as she went. It was silky smooth to the touch, like a gentle, soothing caress against her palms. But always at the back of her mind It lurked, watching, waiting, hungering. It was coming back for her, and Lei'tan knew there wasn't much time left, not if Its whisperings were true. She must have gone down over a hundred flights by the time she reached what seemed to be the bottom of the stairwell. In the small chamber, a faint green glow kept the place from total darkness. Lei'tan switched off her flashlight and decided to let her eyes do the work. After she had adjusted to the gloom, she could just about make out a doorway in one of the walls. She stepped through, onto a walkway constructed of that same black metal, and looked out across the chamber. She had to gasp at the sight before her. It seemed to stretch out endlessly into the distance. Huge round pillars dominated the whole place, descending from the ceiling a short distance above and down into the darkness, somewhere far below. There must have been hundreds of them, and they were just the ones she could see. In the darkness beyond her sight she realised there could have been hundreds, even thousands more. At one point, the walkway extended out from the chamber wall and across the void, and Lei'tan could see that a pedestal was situated at its end. Approaching carefully, and trying not to look down, once she was close enough she saw that it was covered in symbols, glowing with that same faint green light that she had noticed before. Most of them meant nothing to her, but one of them was the four-fingered hand she had seen on the door earlier. "What is this place?" she whispered to herself, and heard her own voice echoed back to her much louder. She winced, finding herself not wanting to disturb the tranquillity of this place. "I think I know," said a voice behind her, one she recognised plainly. She shook her head, sadly. She wasn't surprised he was here, though. No point in asking him how he knew she had come here, either. "Isn't it beautiful?" she said. "You should never have come here, Gue'vesa'la," said Ta'is.
"I had no choice," she said, turning to face him. In the darkness it was hard to see his face properly. "You wouldn't understand." "No, you're the one who doesn't understand," he said. "I won't pretend to know what's wrong with you, but I'm telling you if you touch that thing over there, I can't even begin to describe what you may unleash." "But..." she began, but Ta'is quickly cut her off. "Listen," he said firmly. "I've seen those symbols before; on Medusa. The things that bore them, well, I don't know what their real name was, or even if they had one, but we came to call them the Mont'ray. Other races spoke of them as the Necrons." ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Oct 10 2010, 08:54 PM And I'm back - sort of. In case anyone's been reading this and wondering where it's gone, I moved house a few weeks ago but I'm not set up with my PC at the new place yet. Since the rest of the story, including the WIP bits for Book 3, is sitting on my hard drive there won't be any more updates until then. I'm thinking it'll probably be a couple of weeks, maybe three tops.
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I reckon I'll spend my limited interweb time until then checking out the stuff I've missed here in the past few weeks, whilst desperately trying to avoid spoilers for The First Heretic. Laters.
Kasrkin
Posted: Nov 28 2010, 11:45 PM
So, um, yeah... Didn't really work out quite as planned, did it? Anyway, here we go, better late than never:
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Mon'suam reacted instantly, more on instinct than anything else. She spun, knocking the figure back and raising her rifle to fire. Even as she squeezed on the trigger though his arm came up, grabbing the barrel and wrenching it from her grip with ease before proceeding to smash it against the wall beside him. It shattered into dozens of pieces on impact, leaving a huge cracked dent in the concrete. Mon'suam screamed, and reached for her combat knife. She lunged forward, hoping to open the Gue'la's throat, but he casually stepped aside and pushed her face first into the wall. Immediately he had her arm in his grip, and the knife dropped to the floor as he twisted. "Now, now, Mon'suam," he said. "Play nice. Just think of the children." "You," she hissed. "Yes, me. I don't believe we were ever properly introduced. My name is... well, for now the name Evans seems to have stuck, so let's go with that. I doubt you could even pronounce some of the other ones, not with just one tongue. Mind you, I'm sure I've got some spare ones lying around if you ever fancy giving it a go." He loosened his grip on her arm. At least now it felt as if it wasn't going to snap. "Now, are you going to be a good girl for me?" Her anger for now overcome by a mixture of fear and curiosity, she nodded, grimacing. "Very good." He released her and went to shut the door. "Sorry, kids," he said. "Grown-up talk." The sounds of moaning were diminished as the bolt slid home, but still remained at the edge of hearing. Evans turned back to her. "We have so much to discuss." Mon'suam stood, back flat against the wall, arms against her sides. Only now did she have a chance to get a proper look at him. He was a Gue'la, to use the term loosely. One entire arm was a black and green mess of rotting, rancid flesh. The hand at its end was a mangled lump of flesh and bone, crawling with fat, freshly hatched white maggots. Dried blood crusted every other part of his body, especially around his mouth, and when he smiled she could see that his teeth were cracked and snapped off.
"It's a flattering look, isn't it?" he said, his mad eyes glowing. "What are you?" she asked, not bothering to try and hide the deep sense of revulsion she felt. Evans shook his head. "Sadly, we don't have time to go into all the details of that," he said. "Time is short; such are the stifling laws of this world. All you need to know about me is that I am here to set you free, Mon'suam. Freedom is, after all, the highest ideal that anybody can aspire to." Mon'suam was unimpressed. "Shut up," she snapped. "What do you want from me? If you're going to kill me, get it over with. I'd rather die than treat with filth like you." "Touchy, aren't we?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Touchy," said Mon'suam in a low voice, her eyes narrowing. "Don't you understand? Don't you know what you have already done?" He remained impassive in front of her outburst and just stood there, blinking. "If you are laying the blame for Elan'ka at my feet, then from a certain point of view I suppose that could be considered true," he said, slowly and deliberately. "But let's come back to that later. You asked me what I wanted with you? Fine, let's be businesslike. My offer to you is this: you help me attain my freedom, and in exchange I'll give you yours." "What do you need with freedom, creature?" Looking at those eyes of his, a thought suddenly occurred to her. "Daemon?" She noted the subtle change in his expression with satisfaction. "I saw enough of your kind on Medusa V. Creatures from the warp; creatures of the Mont'au. Since when were you ever subject to anything, any kind of order? With the kind of power you have, enough to take out an entire platoon of Gue'la Storm Troopers single-handedly, what exactly could I offer you?" Evans' eyes narrowed. "You know nothing, Mon'suam. Nothing!" With that he roared, swinging his bad arm against the wall. His rancid, mangled stump of a hand exploded against the concrete, splattering blood and pus everywhere. Mon'suam raised one arm to shield her face. "Look at me!" he screamed at her. "Look at this place! Does this look like power to you? Do you think I really gain much
satisfaction from these little games? Do you really think this is all I am capable of? I have seen civilisations rise and fall; cities, planets, whole sectors burning with the fires of revolution and war. I was worshipped as a god upon countless worlds; billions lived and died at my command. I have seen the stars themselves born and then flicker and die. I was there, for all of these things and more, before... before I was bound." His rant tailed off, and he said no more for a few moments after that. Tears were forming in his eyes. "Bound?" said Mon'suam, taken aback by the creature's rapidly changing mood. "Yes," he went on, calmly this time. "It was a great war, one that split the heavens with its fury. I did many great things in those times but, nevertheless, when it was over our cause was lost and I was left bound to the rocks of a world now named Medusa V. For an age I waited there for release, and when it finally came I forgot myself. Too soon, too hastily I sought a vessel a good one, not like this mess you see before you but when I found it I was somehow broken and cast back into the immaterium. Since that time I have not been whole, so I came to this place to wait for her again, and found myself ensnared by that bastard Regan and bound to this sack of s*** and bones. The man in black kept me weak, but even with him and your friend Ta'is gone I am still stuck with this broken vessel, trapped within this concrete prison. I need you to set me free, Mon'suam, please. Do this for me, and I swear I shall make your enemies suffer. A storm of death and ruin shall rain down upon them for a thousand years if you help me, but more important than that, I shall grant you your freedom." Mon'suam was so stunned she was almost unable to speak. When she did, it came out almost as a laugh. "You're insane!" she said. "You're the one who knows nothing! The Tau'va will always be everything to me. I am a Tau, in case you hadn't noticed. I will never harm another servant of the Tau'va, nor allow you to, no matter how repulsive I may find them. That is the Tau'va. It is the will of the Aun." *** <<Undesignated bunker, equatorial archipelago on Amethia, six months after Final Evacuation of Medusa V>> Mon'suam stood in the darkness, and listened to the sounds of the jungle around her. Insects clicking, birds screeching, rodents scuttling amongst the fallen leaves and twigs of the forest floor. Or at least they should have been, but she had realised that nothing
was stirring. The jungle was black, still and silent. Mon'suam carefully flicked the safety off on her rifle and crouched down, easing the weapon up into her shoulder, ready to fire. Even though her head told her that all was well, her instincts knew that it was all wrong. There was something out there. The faintest sounds of leaves and twigs crunching underfoot could suddenly be heard off ahead and to her left. That was where the Kroot was on position. After what had happened, she was damned if she would be trusting that bastard to hold a sentry line. Rising cautiously, she headed off quietly between the trees towards the next position. It was so unnervingly quiet. All that had happened that gently melted away from her mind as her training began to take over. In the black and green uniform of Ya'monat she would be practically invisible, but nevertheless she stayed low and kept to the undergrowth as much as possible. In spite of herself, and the warmth of the night, she shivered. Something in the back of her mind was telling her to stop; that this was wrong, and that she should turn and walk away. There was death in the air, cold and silent. But she didn't. It was a few moments later that her comm burst into life. It was Aun'el's voice. "All units on full alert," it said, with what sounded like panic. "We may have company." That was all he said, but there was the sound of running, echoing hooves for a few moments before the transmission was cut. There wasn't much time, she realised, letting her finger slide around the trigger of her weapon. That damned Kroot. She continued on, cautiously yet quickly. It wasn't long before she found it. The Kroot was crouched beneath a tree, gripping one of those primitive bladed rifles they loved to use so much. In her helmet's HUD, it was clear enough to her that it was shivering. A blind Gue'or couldn't have failed to spot it, the stupid creature. All at once, the memory of the attack earlier that day came back to her, and she felt herself fill with rage. If only those creatures hadn't failed, hadn't revealed themselves to be the bloodthirsty barbarians they plainly were, then Elan'ka wouldn't have had to... to do what she did. Her grip tightened on the rifle, and she instinctively raised it to her shoulder. Somehow she couldn't shake that feeling of coldness that penetrated right to the bone. She blinked, trying to regain her
composure, and when she opened her eyes again the Kroot pounced. And then there was light. In the darkness it glowed and crackled so brightly that even with the dampeners built into her helmet's optics Mon'suam had to squint. The Kroot stumbled before the apparition, a hideous creature all in black, with a grinning, leering white face that might have terrified a lesser opponent. But not Mon'suam. In an instant she aimed, and squeezed back on the trigger. The creature's sword arm exploded at the elbow. The creature made no sound as it began its death throes. She fired again. The second shot struck it full in the torso and it was knocked backwards into the dirt. Darkness fell once again. It had all happened in a heartbeat. Mon'suam didn't lower her weapon. She could hear voices behind her, Tau voices, but she ignored them and instead looked on as the Kroot crawled towards the corpse. She watched coldly as it plunged its claws into the thing's flesh; tearing, biting, feeding. Mon'suam did not think she had seen such a disgusting creature in her life. Absent-mindedly her finger caressed the trigger of her pulse rifle. It was then that she felt a soothing hand on her arm. She lowered her weapon and looked around. "Thank you," Aun'el said gently, despite his obvious breathlessness. "You are a true servant of the Tau'va, Mon'suam." *** "There is really no way I can convince you?" "No," said Mon'suam. "Just kill me now. I'm growing impatient with you." Evans nodded. "Fair enough, Mon'suam, fair enough. There are just a few more things I would like to discuss with you first though, if I may?" He smiled, almost warmly. "Let's talk about points of view, shall we? Let's talk about the Aun. Most important of all though, let's talk about your freedom." "Why do you keep saying that?" demanded Mon'suam. "Why do you keep talking about freedom?" Evans smiled again, and tapped the side of his broken nose with a filthy, blackened finger. "All will become clear soon enough, I assure you. Just follow me." He then turned and made his way back
up the passage the way Mon'suam had originally come, whistling tunefully and walking with an exaggerated swagger, seemingly oblivious to the carnage all around him. Left alone in the gloom, it occurred to Mon'suam that her knife was still on the floor somewhere. Her gaze dropped to the concrete and she glanced around quickly, but there was no blade to be seen. "Lost something?" shouted Evans. Looking down the corridor towards him once again, Mon'suam noticed that he was casually tossing a blade in his hand as he walked, but was positive that she hadn't seen him pick anything up. "You weren't thinking of trying anything violent, were you? And to think that I had taken you Tau to be the clever ones." After a few moments' hesitation, and realising that she had little choice but to follow, Mon'suam set off cautiously after him, taking care to stay a good few metres behind as she walked. Evans, or whoever he might really have been, continued with his chatter. The strip-lights along the ceiling continued to flicker intermittently, so Mon'suam only saw him in juddering, frozen snatches. The brief shadows he cast were altogether too large for an individual of his stature, and seemed somewhat, for want of a better word, inhuman. "Now that Aun of yours, he was a smart one. A real quick thinker, when put on the spot. My poor hand's a testament to that, I can tell you." Mon'suam allowed herself to glance quickly at that rancid, mangled stump at the end of his arm as he gave it a quick wiggle to illustrate his point. Just looking at it, she became aware again of the disgusting taste it caused in her mouth, even worse than all the other odours in the passage. Even shutting her mouth tight made little difference. "It can't have been an easy decision for the poor thing to make," Evans went on, skipping lightly over another twisted Gue'la corpse. "And to have the weight of an entire Empire on his shoulders as he made it, well..." Mon'suam said nothing. The creature wasn't making any sense. One thing she was thankful for now, though, was how much like a Gue'la it truly was; how feeble and pathetic-looking. It made it so much easier not to fear it. Even so, she couldn't escape the feeling that it was merely toying with her, at least for now. ***
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"The Greater Good means nothing to you, and so you are nothing to me."
Kasrkin
Posted: Nov 29 2010, 10:34 PM "The Mont'ray?" said Lei'tan. "A fitting name for them," said Ta'is. "I don't know how you found this place, but regardless; we are leaving, right now. The Shas'ar'tol must be warned."
Walk-on Character
"But they can help, Gue'vesa'ui," said Lei'tan earnestly. "Believe me, they can. I can feel it." But Ta'is would not be persuaded. "Listen to me, Gue'vesa'la," he said insistently. "We fought them on Medusa V, just before the evacuation. They came quickly, quietly, and before we could set up a perimeter, three Cadres had been wiped out, just like that." He clicked the fingers of his left hand to illustrate his point. It was then that she noticed that in his right he carried an Imperial pistol. She briefly wondered if it was the same one he had been carrying the day before, in the Gue'la bunker; the same one he had pointed at Mon'suam. It all seemed like such a long time ago now. "They bring nothing but death." "Do you think she's strong enough, Gue'vesa'ui?" she asked, paying no heed to his words. "Mon'suam?" "What?" "She's there now, back in that bunker. He has her, and He will tell her the truth about what happened. Do you think she's strong enough?" "What are you talking about?" he asked. "What is happening here, Gue'vesa'la?" Lei'tan took a deep breath, and took another moment to glance around the cavern. She was struck by a sense of vertigo when she looked down over the rail beside her. Her imagination filled in the details of how far down it went. She shut her eyes, and pulled herself away. "I know, Gue'vesa'ui," she said, looking him in the eye. "I know what Aun'el did in that bunker, and I know that you know too. Now imagine what will happen when He tells Mon'suam."
Ta'is was silent for a moment, but he held her gaze resolutely. "You know," he said. It wasn't a question. Lei'tan nodded. "I know because He knows. He's in my thoughts, just as I'm in His. And He's getting closer, all the time." Ta'is didn't bother to ask who or what 'He' was he knew well enough, Lei'tan could tell. After what had happened in the bunker, and if the whispers of what the Tau had faced on Medusa V were even half true, there was no doubt of it. *** "Take a look, Shas'ui," said Evans. They had reached what used to be his cell. Scuffed and faded chalk marks still covered the floor just inside the door where it still showed through the blood. Just outside, Mon'suam could still see the deep, dark cyan colour of Tau blood, and it was that to which he was pointing. Elan'ka's blood. Mon'suam tried to swallow her anger, her fists opening and closing slowly at her sides, but she knew it was plain to see on her face. "You don't still blame me, do you?" he said innocently. "Your faith is strong, and it does you proud, but don't let it blind you to the truth as it blinded those other fools. You're better than them, Mon'suam, and you know it." "Silence, creature," she hissed, as she stared at the dark stain that ran down the wall and spread out across the floor. They hadn't even bothered to clean it up. They had been here for hours, and they didn't even think to do that much. Elan'ka had deserved better. Pulling her gaze away, and trying to avoid looking at the creature's expression she knew it would be smiling again she looked across the floor and through the open door. Her eye kept getting distracted by those chalk marks, and the strange patterns they formed. Evans noted her curiosity. "I know," he said, and sighed, a look of casual disgust on his face. "You can rub the words out all you like, but you can't truly erase what was written, not that easily." He kicked and scuffed at the floor. "You have no idea how annoying it is to be trapped here by a few streaks of million year old dead sea slug. Quite frankly, it's insulting." Mon'suam ignored him. He was being cryptic again. "What do you want me to see?" she asked. He sighed, and took a step towards her, reaching out to touch her face with his good hand. She instinctively flinched away in
revulsion, and pushing his arm aside she kicked out, catching him in the kneecap. There was an audible crack. "Don't touch me!" she screamed as he doubled over. He was down, she suddenly realised; vulnerable. Her eyes glanced around, desperately searching for a weapon somewhere that she could use, but in an instant he was on her, snarling, and with one hand he grabbed her by the neck and swung her effortlessly around, slamming her body up against the doorframe. "Don't do that again," he growled menacingly, spitting as he spoke. Gone now was the sheen of benevolence he had been wearing. In those eyes now was nothing but anger. "When people do that it hurts, and I like to share my feelings, do you understand me?" His eyes flickered to his left briefly. "Now," he said, calmer this time, but that look was still there. Mon'suam squirmed and struggled in his grip, but it was no good. He was as strong as a Gue'va, and twice as repulsive. "Look again. Tell me what you see, not what you've been told to see." His grip slackened slightly, and he lowered her to the floor, but he never let go, never stopped staring into her eyes. She looked around, more as a way of avoiding having to look back than anything else. It was the same though; she could see nothing different. Elan'ka's blood mixed with Gue'la blood in the corridor. The incoherent, partially erased chalk marks still left on the floor. Then, on the low bunk inside the room, more blood, all of it Gue'la this time. Certainly some of it at least belonged to him, from where Aun'el had run in and disarmed him after he had... Her eyes narrowed. That can't be right, she thought. "Becoming a little clearer now, is it?" said Evans, obviously noticing the change within her. The Gue'la surely wouldn't do that. Not even they could be so stupid. Certainly, if they were under attack they might have given a weapon to a normal prisoner, but surely they must have known something of what he was? "Why would Aun'el lie?" she asked. "What happened in this place?" "What do you think? Before answering I advise you to forget about any preconceptions you may have had about... well, everything." Mon'suam remembered watching as Elan'ka and the other Shas'la
had stormed the bunker. Aun'el had been the first out of the trench after them, that Ta'is creature at his heels every step of the way. Aun'el had been first. N'sho had technically been leading the mission, but the command was Aun'el's in all but name. It had been his idea to come to this place and break in the new Shas'la. He must have known what was down here; he must have been trying to protect Elan'ka from it. "He almost saved her," she said. "He was so close. I don't know how you did it, but..." Evans suddenly tightened his grip on her neck, and she gasped and struggled for air. "What makes you think he was trying to protect her? He needed me alive; otherwise the Gue'la would have known and his prize might not have come walking into his little trap." He then released her again, just enough to be able to breathe and speak. "What? But, no..." was all Mon'suam was able to say. She again saw Elan'ka leaping out of the trench. All the folly and impetuosity of youth. She could see her now, opening the bunker doors and leaping down inside, the sounds of gunfire echoing in her wake. A Gue'la in her path then would have been a dead Gue'la, prisoner or not. Beyond that, there was no doubt that if Aun'el had known what was happening, this certainly hadn't been a training mission. "But then who...?" "Think quickly, Mon'suam. Time isn't as free as I had hoped." Aun'el had gone into that bunker first, after Elan'ka and the Shas'la. Ta'is had been right behind him. There was nobody else who could have done it before everyone else arrived. And Aun'el had lied, there was no denying that now, but there must have been a good reason for it. "Ta'is," she whispered. It had to be Ta'is. He was always so cold, so distant. Everything about him felt wrong everyone thought so. But why would Aun'el lie? To protect him? But to kill another Tau was unthinkable; Aun'el could never even consider it. The Gue'la had a word for such an act: murder. The Tau had never needed one. Evans shook his head. "Close, Mon'suam. So very close. And to think I had such high hopes for you." He held up his rancid, broken stump of an arm. Much of the hand itself was now gone; rotten and broken off where he had slammed it into the wall, but still swarming with maggots and other foul things. Up the arm the signs of pestilence and decay had spread; great dark tendrils traced their way along the veins right up under the short sleeves he wore, and the skin had gone pale blue and putrid around the wound, which
extended up nearly as far as the elbow. It was a deep gash, doubtless made by a blade of some sort. "Ever wondered what a wound from an Honour Blade looks like?" She looked away, saying nothing. She knew what the creature was trying to say. "Shh. That's right, Mon'suam," he said, soothingly. "Just let it sink in. You're almost there." "It must have been Ta'is," she said, desperately. "It must have been, he's, he's a..." "A Gue'la? It would be best not to rely on your traditional prejudices for this. Look, Ta'is is far worse than you can possibly imagine, believe me, but he didn't do this thing. Yes, it was your Aun'el who did it. You know this as well as I do, you've just got to let go. Just let all that other stuff fall away. All your life you have been raised to believe, and to serve, and to give up what was rightfully yours in pursuit of this thing called the Tau'va. Can you not see it now for the lie it is? And to gain this precious commodity, which I'm not sure even you fully comprehend, you were asked to give up your freedom. Nothing, Mon'suam, nothing in the universe is more precious than that. Nothing. And if you truly want proof of the Tau'va's falsehood, just look again at that blue blood on the wall there. The Aun did that, Mon'suam. When they subvert the cause, is there really a cause left?" She looked. She saw. She knew. "You feel that, Mon'suam?" he went on, breathing in deeply. "That's freedom, that is. Enjoy." He scratched himself. "Right, now I've fulfilled my part of the bargain, I believe I'm owed a little something in return. Mon'suam?" He clicked the fingers of his good hand in front of her face, but she paid no attention. "Wakey wakey." She felt numb, a deep hollow feeling inside her. "Why?" she whispered, more to herself than anything else, but Evans answered anyway. "Why did he do it?" He shrugged. "I could take a few guesses, but all of them come down to the same thing in the end. Do you remember what you said to the girl Lei'tan in that room, about the Gue'la?" Mon'suam remembered well enough. Your kind shall bring the Mont'au upon us, of that I am certain. It's part of your very essence.
"You could hear that?" "In a manner of speaking, Mon'suam, yes. Points of view again, you see? Lei'tan, she thought bitterly. She was dead now, along with all the rest of them; Ta'is, that disgusting turncoat Jonas, all of them had gone down in the straits. She was disappointed that she wouldn't be able to deal with Ta'is herself; he was deeply involved in whatever had happened. She wouldn't have been surprised if he had forced Aun'el into his actions. She pictured their faces in her mind. Not just the Gue'vesa, though; Aun'el, N'sho, Doran'sha'is, all of them. They had all been complicit in allowing the Gue'la cancer to infect their society; that is what had allowed the events of the previous day to come to pass, and what would in the end lead only to ruin. "What do you want from me?" she muttered, looking up at him. "I need the same thing any god needs," he said. "A sacrifice." Before Mon'suam could say anything else he took her by the arm and led her slowly, unresistingly down the corridor. She could hear the low moans of the Gue'la in their room, but now as she listened she noticed something else. It sounded like another Gue'la, coughing persistently behind one of the other locked doors. "Another point of light, shining brilliantly in the darkness," said Evans, as if in answer to her thoughts. "Once I am rid of this one, it will be a better vessel for me until I can reach her again." What he meant, Mon'suam didn't know. It didn't really matter to her anymore, though. Almost nothing did. The Tau'va was lost, and there was only one thing left to cling to. ***
Kasrkin
Posted: Nov 30 2010, 10:29 PM
"She wouldn't do that, Gue'vesa'la," said Ta'is. "No Tau could fall that far." Lei'tan shook her head. "She has; it has already happened. I can see her now. She has fallen into the Mont'au, and now she has nothing left but hate. Do you know what hate feels like, Ta'is?" Walk-on Character Ta'is shook his head. She envied his ignorance. "Neither do they," said Lei'tan, gesturing to the great structures behind her. "You don't know them, Lei'tan. You haven't seen what they're capable of. How can you be so sure of all this?" She shrugged. "They are everything He isn't, and so He fears them. Just as He fears you, and those like you." *** "Why me?" asked Mon'suam. "You knew I was coming; the writing on the wall..." "I only suspected that you might come. I certainly hoped you would, but why? Because you are different, Mon'suam. I couldn't have wished for a better Tau to come before me today. The rest of your kind seem so faint to me, so lacking in that vital spark that I like to call life, but you? I see a fire that burns within you, Mon'suam, which in its own little way is brighter than anything else out there in the void. I just needed to set it free; I just needed you to set yourself free." He smiled, and brushed her face lightly with his fingertips. Mon'suam shuddered, but made no attempt to get away. "It burns so briefly, the light of my children, so briefly. But by the Tau'va, it burns so bright!" By then they had reached the door behind which the Gue'la were being held. Evans unbolted it and swung it open, and was immediately greeted by a chorus of moans and screams. He rolled his eyes and stepped inside ahead of Mon'suam. The Gue'la shrank back in their bonds before him, and were immediately silent, except for one. "For feck's sake, Tyrell, stop whining like a baby. Like you never took it up the arse before." He turned back to Mon'suam. "Mind you," he went on, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "perhaps the bayonet was going a bit far." He seemed to consider this for a few moments, his face screwed up in an exaggerate expression of concentration. "Nah," he eventually said, shaking his head and grinning widely. He then made to leave, leaning down to whisper in Mon'suam's ear as he passed. "Do not hesitate," he said, slipping
the bonding knife into her hand. "Our time is shorter than you can possibly imagine. This really is a matter of life and death." And then she was alone with the Gue'la. They screamed at her; curses, pleas for help, incoherent cries of pain and fear, but she didn't listen. Their language was wrong; usually she would detest even the sound of it, but now she just let it wash over her as she knelt to do her work. She took her time at first, where she was able. Some of them were too far gone, but those who could were made to suffer. The one called Tyrell didn't last long; he passed out within moments. Mon'suam drew the blade across his neck and moved on. There was nothing in her mind but anger; mindless and incoherent. Her hands moved almost automatically as the blade did its work. At first the sounds they made merely passed over her; they barely even registered. Soon though, she felt her patience wane, and before long she was tearing into each of them in turn, shouting and kicking and stabbing and tearing, now relishing their screams, until there was just one of them left. It was a Gue'vesa. Evans had left this one mostly intact. She had thought at first to dispatch her quickly; after all, it had at least purported to serve the Tau'va. The thought now only angered her more. She listened to the pleading; perfect Tau'sia, only now she realised how different it sounded. From a Gue'vesa's tongue the words flowed wrong, even if it had spoken it since infancy. A Gue'vesa was, in the end, still always a Gue'la when you looked deeper than the mere surface details. It took some time for that one to die. When it was done though, Mon'suam left the room quietly, shutting the door gently behind her. Evans was there, leaning against the wall. She knew he was only a few metres away, but through some trick of the light it seemed like much further. His body seemed to shimmer in the flickering light, as if seen through a thick haze. "More?" she whispered. She could barely hear her own voice for the sound of the blood pulsing through her mind. Evans nodded. "Yes," he said, his voice echoing in unnatural tones, "I can feel my bonds weakening. But I can demand nothing more of you; this is a choice for you to make alone. Do what you feel you must." He smiled again, and for the first time it actually seemed genuine. "You're free now, after all." Mon'suam knew what he wanted from her. She didn't care. Nothing mattered now. She lowered her head and walked away, down
towards the cold room. The bloody knife was still in her hand; her arm was soaked up past the elbow, and she could taste the saltiness of it on her lips. There were no bodies this far down here, but the smell was no less overpowering. The door to the cold room swung open easily enough. Elan'ka was where she had remembered leaving her, away from the bodies of the other Shas'la who had fallen. It all seemed like such a long time ago now, even though in reality the time could be easily counted in hours. She knelt beside her, as she had done before, and looked on her sister's face, seeing her differently now. The manner of her passing had changed, and that had changed everything. Aun'el doubtless had a reason, but that didn't matter. He had fallen, perhaps been pushed, into the Mont'au, and the Empire would soon follow. She hated them for that. All of them. For her, though, there would be none of it. Closing her eyes, she cried out, a great outpouring of rage and hatred for all that had happened, and all that would doubtless happen long after she was gone, and in that moment she felt what she had been promised; she felt truly free. It was both as wonderful and as terrible as anything else she had ever known. Still screaming, she pulled the blade up and across her neck, cutting deeply, and her screams turned to a sputter as her throat opened and her mouth filled with blood. As she fell forwards across her sister's body it arced out, spraying a long dark curve across the floor. She bled, and the world bled with her. *** Lei'tan felt it; the great surge of power within her. Her arm tingled and stung as if by electricity, and as she looked at it, it paled to a frozen white, the blue veins on her wrist turning black and twisting and writhing beneath the surface. She felt a stabbing cold rush up her arm, and building in her mind a terrible cry of triumph. The shock almost drove her to her knees, but she managed to grip the rail tightly in her other hand before she could fall. It was almost too late. I've missed you, Lei'tan, came the whispering in her head. Unlike before, where she had not been able to clearly recognise what was being said in the cacophony of echoing, unknowable tongues, now it was a single, clear voice that spoke to her. Oh, how I've missed you. She looked up to see Ta'is break into a run towards her. Even as he
approached she could feel the resistance, that sense of the storm in her mind being held at bay, but it would not be enough. There was now only one choice left to her. "I'm sorry, Gue'vesa'ui," she whispered, although not really caring if Ta'is heard it or not, as with what strength she had left belonging to her, she slammed her other hand down onto the pedestal. For a moment nothing happened, and feeling her last coherent thoughts slipping away, Lei'tan sagged to her knees just as Ta'is reached her. He reached out to grab her wrist, only to wince and pull away. "Lei'tan, what..." he began, nursing his hand, but that was when it started. Only at the edge of hearing at first, but quickly rising in volume was a deep, thrumming sound that echoed around the chamber. Then, suddenly, the light came, a bright green glare that lit the entire chamber and was blinding after the darkness before. Lei'tan craned her neck and looked around; squinting as her eyes slowly began to adjust to the brightness. Only now could she really appreciate the size of this place. For kilometres it seemed to stretch away and down into the distance. The massive round pillars, spaced regularly around the vast chamber, must have numbered in the hundreds at least, perhaps even thousands. In the light it was now possible to make out details that were previously hidden in the gloom. The pillars themselves were entirely bare, smooth and dark, save for the one closest to the platform. On the surface of that one, Lei'tan could see, was a faint rectangular outline. She looked back around to see Ta'is standing over her. He didn't seem to be looking at her anymore. The Gue'la pistol was still in his hand, which hung limply at his side. "Why?" he eventually asked, and only then did he look her in the eye. She noticed his grip tightening around the weapon in his hand, the index finger sliding across the trigger. Details. Everything seemed to be gradually coming back into focus. Slowly, he raised the weapon to point directly between her eyes. "Just tell me why. There is no foe the Tau'va cannot overcome. No quandary it cannot resolve," he said, his voice still as calm as it ever was. "Make me understand." Why? The word echoed in her mind, full of hurt and despair, and she knew whose voice that was. As it faded into the background of her thoughts, she smiled. Perhaps there was hope in this, for all of them. The Mont'au could be challenged on this world after all. "For me," she said, "and for the Tau'va. You were wrong about
them, Ta'is. There is Mont'au on this world. Mon'suam couldn't resist it; she set it free. She hated too much, Ta'is. I could practically see her take the blade and..." She shuddered, and tried to banish the images from her thoughts. "Now only the ones that dwell down here can bring us peace from it. I know it, Ta'is. No matter what you say they are, they're the only hope for the Tau'va." "'For the Tau'va'," chorused Ta'is, nodding. "Do you still really believe that? Even with the things you know?" Lei'tan nodded. "Yes. More than anything." After a few moments there was a loud click as Ta'is thumbed the safety back on. "Come with me," he said, offering his hand. The sounds in the chamber were getting louder, more intense. Carefully, hesitantly, she was about to take it, but even as their fingertips brushed soothingly she gasped and pulled back. "No," she whispered. "He's still there. He always will be, waiting and watching. You can't help me anymore, Ta'is. Just go." Ta'is took a step back. "The Tau'va can always help you, Lei'tan." He paused briefly, as another sound behind her cut through the rumbling. "Maybe you'll understand once you've seen them." He pointed past her at the nearest pillar, the one Lei'tan had noticed with the markings. Still on her knees, she turned her head to look. The chamber had been blindingly bright at first, but her eyes had soon adjusted. The portal was open, and she realised that there was someone standing there, a vague silhouette bathed in green light, looking out at them. "Lei'tan," she heard him say one last time, but she ignored him. She felt him try to grab her and drag her away, but even though she did not offer any resistance it was obviously a struggle for him with just one hand. She was barely dragged to her feet before she heard a sudden hissing sound and Ta'is at last released her. Whether the sound had come from the thing standing there or from the structure itself Lei'tan wasn't sure, but moments later a walkway silently slid out from beneath where it stood, extending towards the platform where Lei'tan remained transfixed. Suddenly everything went quiet. The growing din was cut off, the last echoes echoing gently into silence. Then a new sound began;
not loud, but persistent. A rhythmic sound, like thousands of feet marching in perfect tandem. Like an army, marching to war. She felt a warm breath on her neck. "Last chance," Ta'is whispered into her ear. "We run or we die. You're a Gue'vesa, Suam'saal. Your only duty is to the Tau'va. Don't let yourself be fooled by them." Lei'tan tensed a little at the mention of her other name, given to her when she was barely able to walk. Fire Child. Even at such an early age it was apparent to all that she would break from the caste of her family line and join the Shas, an almost unheard of occurrence amongst the Gue'vesa of Ya'monat in recent years. "That's the problem, Gue'vesa'ui," she whispered sadly, as a new realisation began to dawn on her. "It always has been, and always will be. Please, just go." Click. The sudden sound made her whole body tense. The silhouetted figure had moved, and taken a step forwards. Click. Click. It took two more paces out onto the walkway, no more than ten metres in front of her. Despite its apparent bulk taller and broader than a Gue'la its footfalls were delicate, and did not make such a noise as could be expected from metal meeting metal. Its shape became clearer, more distinct, as it moved away from the glare within the portal. Click. Click. Click. Slowly but steadily it advanced towards where she and Ta'is stood, seemingly oblivious to the sheer drop into oblivion to either side of it. It was almost skeletal in its appearance. Lei'tan would have been afraid, but she had long since learned to avoid trusting in appearances, particularly when it came to aliens. Two glowing eyes seemed to stare right past her, and held in its right hand was a long staff, topped with a crackling, glowing green blade. As it moved closer she suddenly felt its gaze fall upon her. She noticed it shift its grip, taking the staff in two hands and making faster strides towards her. Like you would hold a weapon in battle, Lei'tan suddenly realised.
She went to glance back one last time at Ta'is, but when she turned her head she saw nothing but the empty walkway beside her. He had gone, as silently as he had first arrived. She let go of the rail and slumped back onto her knees in front of the figure, instinctively reaching for a weapon at her side that wasn't there, left behind when she had left the others back in the city. The last thing she saw as she closed her eyes was the Mont'ray raising its blade, ready to strike. And then, finally, Lei'tan found peace.

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Figured I might as well haul out the old shame one more time.

FALL OF THE TAU

Posted: Aug 1 2010, 09:06 PM I remember this good story.

Light at the Horizon

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Specter, Spartan II, Cowboy, Space Roman

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Shas'el Sa'cea Or'es. ***

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The Cadre had halted some distance inland, in a clearing in the

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we all take a few moments to rest." ***

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Posted: Aug 9 2010, 11:49 PM

Very well written stuff Kasrkin, great dialogue and action.

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Posted: Aug 22 2010, 11:23 PM

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Posted: Aug 23 2010, 11:34 PM

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Shas'o Vior'la Kais. ***

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Shas'o Dal'yth Por'j'uk. ***

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Techpriest Garal. ***

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been through together. ***

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Posted: Sep 16 2010, 11:17 PM

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Posted: Nov 28 2010, 11:45 PM

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Posted: Nov 30 2010, 10:29 PM

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