Ta'shiro Na'zed, On the Edge of the Zone of Silence, D'Yanoi Sept, Tau Empire... The 42nd Millennium...
"...is this then the Will of the Greater Good, Kor'Vre?" Kor'Saal Kaiusi asked, her words tinged with dark humor as she leaned her head against the bulkhead behind the bench. Through the cold metal she could feel staggered tremors as something impacted the station; a steady pattering of hull-etching acid. The sensor web sewn along the system's edge had detected the living vessels of the Devourer many days ago but it was only in the last few hours that they had come close enough to attack the fortress station directly.
"That this is to be the place where we die?"
"Perhaps," the other answered with a shrug, his narrow shoulders folded in as he sat opposite her. The Air Caste's red eyes were on the floor, his mouth clenched tight except for his answer, and the limp arm of his co-pilot draped across his shoulders. The Kor'Ui had died minutes earlier, the wounds he'd taken in the first onslaught coming to claim him silently while the other had been momentarily turned away.
It had only been through sheer luck that Meetse had managed to pilot his 'Barracuda back to the station. Missing most of one wing and with his co-pilot stoically bleeding out beside him, he'd barely set down before the armored hangar doors had been closed and sealed. Hurried from the crippled craft by the rescue crew, he'd been pulled to one side and then on to the infirmary - suddenly useless as every able-bodied T'au hurried to the station's defense.
"Can we ever truly know...?" he turned his head to cast his gaze up and down the corridor. He had not been the first and was not the last. Kaiusi had been there when he had arrived – a broken arm from when she'd been thrown to the deck – then another and another had joined them as the battle raged outside the station. Perhaps his own wound was not as bad as it appeared - dried blue blood stained his flight suit from just under his ribs to the first pocket on his thigh – and they would need everyone but whenever he tried to move searing pain warned him to stay still.
"I must have faith that this will somehow serve Tau'va,” he decided, even as a sharp shock rocked the entire station and his teeth gritted in pain, "Somehow..."
RDF-White Nile, Just On The Other Side of the Unnamed Gate... Republic Date 177.629.175...
“...'to keep an eye on the Eridani', Fidelo? That's your excuse? And 'we're with the elves'? I'm surprised they bought it,” Commander Walton finished, his words tapering off as he turned to follow the Admiral's gaze to the new vista laid out before them. It wasn't particularly spectacular – in fact, from the Commander's point of view it looked much like the one they had just left – but it wasn't time for sightseeing. It was the XO's job to know his commanding officer's mind but right up from early this morning until now the Admiral's orders had been an enigma.
It was time to ask a few probing questions.
Fidelo shrugged slightly, the tiny edge of a smile crossing the corners of his mouth. He was a tall man, just slightly more-so than the Commander, and possessed of both the dark Mediterranean complexion and easy confidence that others often envied, “They are enamored of them, are they not?”
Perhaps it did not hurt that the five ships of the Admiral's task force flew the same roundel of the Triumvirate of Yut that the Menelmacari did; friends and allies of the longest sort. There had been paperwork, of course, but these and some little assurances as to their purpose had allowed the five silver-gray warships to slip through the gateway mostly unscathed by the great hand of the bureaucracy. But the suspicious mind would ask the obvious; why would the Republic send ships to do what their great ally could already do?
“I suppose they are,” Walton answered but Villanova cut him off; “I did not say which elves, did I? Lieutenant N'ro,” he called to one of the closer officers. “My quarters, please. There is a box on the end table. Bring it to me. Helm,” his orders turned to the woman sitting across from the first, who was already on his feet. “Move us away from the gate. Find us someplace quiet where we can talk.”
Questions bubbled right at the surface of the executive officer's thoughts but he held them back until the enthusiastic Nwlyan reappeared not thirty seconds later. The Admiral's suite was just beyond the doors at the rear of the bridge and N'ro had made admirable time, nearly sprinting on all fours before returning with the requested container held carefully in both forepaws. It seemed the Admiral would not hold on to his secrets for much longer.
“Sir;” “Grazie,” the Admiral nodded, taking the container from the quadruped before rising and stepping around to the back of the bridge where he could place it on the flat surface next to the tactical console. This as well gave the young woman standing there a chance to look over as well while Commander Walton crowded in next to her.
“I was in my apartment this morning,” he began, keying open a lock on the top of the box before setting it aside and gently reaching inside, “When I heard a particular sound. A chime which triggered a memory. A sound I have not heard in...” thoughts seemed to cross his dark eyes, “Fifteen years? It was very strange. I recall hearing it only once but then when I heard it this morning I knew immediately where the thing was even though I had stored it away.”
The two and others curious watched as the Admiral carefully pulled an object from the container's padded depths and placed it on the dark glass. To the Commander it looked something like a sculpture of a curious flower. Bone-white tendrils sprouted from a narrow base to weave and wind around each other before opening up to delicately touch and enclose the points of a dozen flattened crystals of various sizes.
“It was a gift – or so I thought at the time,” he explained further, moving the container aside to stand over the piece. His eyes were closed and for the moment his hands were still, resting on either side but somehow ready for what came next.
“I realize it now, of course. There are no simple gifts from the Eldar – especially not from a Farseer,” he added. “When she gave it to me there was a sound and she did something like this...”
Eyes still closed, he reached out a pair of fingers pointing carefully downward to swirl them around the object starting first at the base and then stopping just at the middle where they all came together. As he removed his hand the crystalline petals trembled and then moved, drifting free of their vines as these peeled away to form a shallow spiral basin around which the petals moved in a gentle floating circle. Sparkles appeared in the air between them and he opened his eyes to stare down at them.
“The galaxy,” he pointed to the curving arms that sketched out the confines of the basin. “And of course these are the stars. When I opened it this morning these were different,” he again indicated the spiraling arms, “but only just so – our home. Our galaxy. But now they are different. This place, this galaxy,” he looked up to where the stars spread out across the screen that stretched across the front of the bridge.
“Now you can guess why we came to this place, no?” he asked, looking from one officer to another, some nodding while others remained impassive.
“And this must be where they intend for us to go,” Walton interjected, eyeing one star in particular. While all the others shined a bright white it alone pulsed a dull red. “And a Farseer gave you this fifteen years ago?”
“It is right in the name, Commander,” the Admiral glanced up at the man, “I would ask her her reasons but I cannot,” he moved his hand in a particularly sharp, final gesture. “Perhaps that is why she left this thing with me – she knew that her last moments were approaching.”
Walton shot him a questioning look but the Admiral answered the question before it could be asked, “I do not know either, Commander. I do not even have my suspicions. The ways of the Eldar witches are beyond my understanding – but they always have their reasons. It brought us to the first place – a place no one would go but by accident – and now we will go to the second...”
Ta'shiro Na'zed, On the Edge of the Zone of Silence, D'Yanoi Sept, Tau Empire...
Meetse grunted, cursing once again as the pain of every footfall jolted up through his leg and into his ribs. His wound had reopened - fresh purple-blue blood oozed down the stain of old under his suit - but he could still be helped to his feet. This had afforded him the arm of the young Kor'La; many of the other wounded had to be loaded onto grav-sleds or slung over the shoulder of the medics and their helpers. Together they were being led from the infirmary further into the depths of the station and some presumption of safety.
Or left as dead.
His eyes closed and for a moment he could again see the body of his Kor'Ui stretched out along the edge of the hallway, hastily laid aside so that he and the rest of the wounded could be evacuated. Half-heard sentences suggested that the swarm had eliminated the last of the defending ships and penetrated the station's defenses. Perhaps somewhere in the back of his head he could hear the sharp scream of pulse-rifles and the tromp of armored feet on the decks. The Fire Warriors would fight valiantly for the Greater Good but it would be ultimately futile.
If the fleet was destroyed they could not evacuate the station; they fought only to delay their deaths by another press of the firing stud.
"...through here;" he opened his eyes just as a circular hatch rolled aside ahead of them, the insignia of the D'Yanoi Sept proudly worked into its curved surface. Beyond was a wide room that led to another great hatch that in turn opened into a control room of some kind – the pilot had only infrequently come this far into the station's interior. Glowing consoles sat here and there while a long oval table floated in the center, anxious-looking officers watching the glowing symbols that floated above it or casting quick glances towards the passing wounded.
"Over here - the supply room..." a voice called out from the lead and he raised his head to try and focus on the speaker. A medic was standing next to another hatch half-hidden in an alcove to the side, working the controls for a moment just before it too rolled aside. Just past the corner he could see the edge of shelves and columns of neatly-arranged containers.
Pounding footsteps echoed behind him and he gritted his teeth to turn and watch as a squad of Fire Caste rounded the corner into the corridor they'd just left, faces hidden behind their masked helmets. With a single motion from their Shas'Ui they turned and spread out, taking up positions at one end while looking anxiously towards the other.
Were the Y'he really so close..?
RDF-White Nile, Passing Through the D'Yanoi Sept, Tau Empire...
“...coming up on the target, Admiral,” the Nwlyan called back from his place at the navigator's station. The quasi-quadruped had stayed at his station for the entire trip, the rare chance to do something more than just check the conditions ahead eagerly taken.
One might assume that the 'Nile and her battle group would be daunted by the prospect of crossing from near one side of the galaxy to the other, countless unknown dangers in their path and potential perils aplenty.
They had cheated.
Heeling over from where they had been casually lurking just out of the sight of the gate, the five had headed straight down-and-out. With the galaxy now above them – relative to their own adjusted plane of travel – they had been afforded both the best view and the clearest path to their destination.
It was a galaxy near to their own but different, the twist of the spiral the same but the places of the stars unfamiliar. A vast gash ran down the middle, an open rift of missing stars spreading from near Sol in the south all the way to their destination in the far north. Among the bridge crew the opinion had been shared and discussed until it was universal; this was a galaxy on the verge of death.
“...two minute warning.”
“What are we looking at?” the Admiral asked, the quiet conversation he'd been engaged in at once forgotten. Twisting back in his chair he looked ahead to where the expected imagery began to filter in with the navigator supplying the required read-along.
“It is a single-star system, spectral type 'M'. Just over two-point-three solar masses, somewhere in the range of one-point-one billion years left. Or a lot less, given the state of things around here. Three planets, all in the outer system. Two Neptunian sub-giants and an icy rogue. And... a fuck-ton of ships,” he added with a toothy grin.
Fidelo's eyebrow went up, his chin sinking into his palm as he sat forward and watched the sensor data populate the holo-sphere with a tactical layout that was already brimming with contact triangles.
“Perhaps even a shit-ton,” he mused, sparing a glance over to the woman at the helm and half-whispered, “And we are on standard approach?”
“Yessir..;” that would bring the 'White Nile and her sister-ships into the system at the star's northern pole – placing them both as near and as far away from every natural object in the system as equally plausible. Without even listening to the Lieutenant's voice-over he could see that the ships were nearly all clustered around the inner of the two distant sub-giants and something there caught his eye; “What's that in the center?”
A holo-panel emerged from the mess and sped to his hand as the Nwlyan answered for the benefit of the rest of the bridge, “It appears to be an orbital station – a big one too...”
Ta'shiro Na'zed, On the Edge of the Zone of Silence, D'Yanoi Sept, Tau Empire...
No...
...and in a instant Kor'Vre D'Yanoi Meetse found his spirit lifted as a red-robed figure strode around the corner, a pair of small saucer-headed drones following the Aun'Ui as she swept through what was now her bodyguard and into the chamber. For a moment everything paused. Even the medics and attendants who had been helping the injured onto the floor looked up to pay the Ethereal Prelate due respect. Rounding the floating table she took up a place opposite the door, a shaft from the overhead light settling on her brow while her bodyguard first followed her through and then moved to surround the table, the Shas'Ui standing at attention opposite her. In one hand she held the crook-curved honor blade that served as her badge of office, the other resting open-handed on the table in front of her.
Like the depths of the station, the Kor'Vre had spent scarce little time near Aun'Ui D'Yanoi Evia – her duties mostly kept her confined to the company of those highly-ranked – but he knew something about her. She was young, perhaps the same age as the Kor'Saal, previously having served under Aun'Vre Enior until his death just a few months previous. Since then she had proved capable in her role of guiding the T'au in their adherence to the Greater Good and in the fortress station's mission.
“The Y'he come endlessly and the fight does not favor us – but all serves the Greater Good,” she said without a tremble, her words somehow hopeful while still hopeless. “The Fio'El believes that the Y'he organism that has attached itself to 'Na'zed is some manner of mother-ship or nursery-vessel. The loss of this vessel would do great harm to the Y'he. After consideration and consultation with the Four, I have decided that we will make it so for the Greater Good.”
Her words hung in the air for a moment as she looked around the room and then they were made clear, “The Shas will fight to the last – as will we all. We will fight to the last to gain enough time for the Fio to turn the reactor into a weapon, destroying this station and the Devourers with it. Thus will the Greater Good be served,” she finished
“For the Greater Good,” the Shas'Ui opposite her called out, his tone firm. Bringing his gloved hand up, he slapped the foregrip of his upright carbine and from every pair of lips in the room the refrain repeated, “For the Greater Good..!”
RDF-White Nile, Na'zed, D'Yanoi Sept, Tau Empire...
“...and we're here. Any answers, Admiral?”
Both the Commander and the Admiral looked up to the Lieutenant from where they'd been nearly-crouched in their chairs, both looking down at the flower-petal sculpture that sat at their feet.
“Doesn't look like it to me,” Walton said, looking up to Villanova, who shared his conclusion with a shake of the head. “Same thing as before. We're pretty sure on those coordinates, right? We're not supposed to be looking a couple systems over?”
Fidelo reached down to lift the statue and raise it to eye-level, examining it closely, “That is a red star,” he eyed the grand furnace that now spread itself across the bottom of the main display. Invisible at this distance was the great body of ships – still marked out in the holo-sphere between here and there – that were the source of the Commander's concern, “This is a red star. We are in the right place...”
“...and that station is really, really red,” the sensor operator called down from their station and both turned in recognition before swinging back as the new imagery filled the screen.
The scenario that unfurled across the display was simple; a station of unknown design but familiar feel hung over a blue-green sphere. Between here and there the hulls of many chitinous vessels swarmed slowly around it while one in particular looked as though it was about to devour the station, two great curved jaws clamped firm to one end though one had been broken off half-way along its length and the mottled blue carapace was pitted and cracked here and there. More importantly to the officer's discussion the station itself was marked out in dull red and black with spots of blue and bronze here and there.
“I gotta say – this isn't my idea of a good time,” Walton said, searching the image for some hint of meaning. “Picking out the meaning behind a dying gift left to you fifteen years ago by a...” The Commander stopped and eyed his friend suspiciously; the Admiral was well-known as both a rogue and as a romantic with a string of broken hearts behind him. Together they had brought trouble to their collective doorstep on more than one occasion, “How well did you know this girl?”
“I did not,” the other answered, immediately catching his meaning. “It was a chance encounter – I was involved in other matters and she approached me.”
“Uh huh.”
“It seemed perfectly natural at the time,” Fidelo shrugged. “I was just concluding my successful business with the Eldar and I assumed that an exchange of tokens was a custom unknown to me. Though perhaps now?” The consideration of many years between then and now passed across his dusky complexion. “'Beware of elves bearing gifts' – this applies to the Eldar as well as the Noldor, or so I was later told.”
“Hate to break up your commiserations, but,” Lieutenant N'ro had swung around in his seat to face them, “If I can call your attention to the view? I think they've spotted us.”
Indeed the display showed just that, with the vast majority of the chitinous vessels having turned from their place to head directly towards them. Only a few remained – notably the largest, still feeding on the station – as well as a few smaller vessels which could then be presumed as its escorts.
“Comms?” Walton asked aloud, looking up and back to where the communications officer sat at his station, a quick shake of the head providing all the answer they needed. “I wouldn't call that a friendly welcoming party. And given what that thing is doing to that station, I'd say they're looking to get downright unfriendly with us!”
“Lieutenant Commander Huang?” the Admiral called back over his shoulder, the feral-looking woman at the tactical console leaning forward attentively. “What are our enemy?”
“They're steak tartare is what they are,” Huang replied with a wolf-grin spreading from ear to ear, her short black hair drifting forward to frame a face of clear South-East Asian extraction. “They're bio-ships. Origins unknown, but we've picked out a dozen different species. Lieutenant lam Huynh and I,” she referenced the Qoyat occupying the sensor console, “have put together a pretty comprehensive chart of their particularities and likely capabilities. It looks like they're a distributed hive-mind. Kinda generic, really.”
“Can you kill them?”
“Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, can I?” she answered, her smile stretching back to show her teeth. “Yes. 'Course I can. I've got half-a-dozen different dining options already planned out from Jīn Yù Mǎn Táng all the way down to,” and she yawned, covering her mouth in mock politeness, “'Spaying and Neutering.'”
“...you can do that?” N'ro asked, his voice understandably uneasy, while another added, “...that's your low-end plan?”
“Sure – why not?” she answered easily, leaning back to tap at her console. “They might be big but sensor scans show they've devoted an unreasonable amount of their biomass to reproductive capability. Some species are more specialized than others – say that big one that seems to be making a meal of that station – but they're all capable of it. Put the warheads in the right place and,” she raised a pair of fingers and made a scissoring motion, “snip-snip!”
Commander Walton winced but it was the Admiral who interjected, “Perhaps we should make an attempt at contacting them.”
She seemed immediately disappointed, “That'll take a while. They're slooooow. It'll be days before they get out here. And if they've seen us and we can see that they've seen us, we'd be able to pick up good ol' radio by now. Actually, we have – they're talking to each other, though it isn't radio. Usual Delta-band 'psychic' bullshit. Not very interesting though there is a lot of it. Like listening to two v-necks in a bar trying to figure out who's going to try and get into your pants.”
This time it was Fidelo's turn to wince; an open collar was his preferred civilian apparel, “Ah.”
“Yeah. Hive Fleet Bruh.”
“...thank you, Lieutenant Commander. Let us still make the attempt – perhaps they'll give us an answer one way or another.”
“Cool,” and sure fingers moved over the smooth glass in front of her. “Jumping a comm beacon to three low-lights out from the lead vessel in three, two...”
There was a wait until Walton finally asked, “One?”
“Nah. Dramatic pause while I waited for them to respond. Comm beacon was targeted and destroyed – got a lot of juicy shots of penis-guns firing though. What?” she looked from face to face. “How do you think bio-ship weapons work? They're the space money-shot...”
Ta'shiro Na'zed, On the Edge of the Zone of Silence, D'Yanoi Sept, Tau Empire...
There was a pause – blessed silence, but only for a moment – and then the corridor was once again filled with hideous forms that raced forward to snap and leap. Sizzling bolts of plasma met them and there was the arc of a photon grenade, the pulse blinding some and sending others sprawling while the Fire Warriors cut them all down with massed fire. One limped forward; an armored brow and carapace allowed it to shrug off shot after shot until one careful or precise blew through an eye socket, emptying its head across the bulkhead and toppling it just at the threshold.
Shortly after the Aun'Ui had fortified their resolve a ragged band of Fire Caste had filtered into the corridor and the command center. Battle still raged across the station but in isolated pockets, one by one exterminated under the unending weight of the Devourer. A pair of XV15s had appeared from nowhere along with a much larger Crisis Suit but this they had been forced to abandon outside, the pilot joining the rest of the Fire Warriors
Their salvation – if any among them would call it that – was that the corridor was too small for any of the larger monstrosities to navigate. One had tried. Four massive arms atop a serpentine body had laid flat to wiggle quickly into the breach but this had exposed its head and others had been forced to pull the corpse away before they could resume their attacks.
With the narrow access corridor forming a natural choke-point, the defenders had expanded half of the room into a larger kill-box with every scrap of anything unneeded piled into a low barricade. A shallow arc of jumbled cover sheltered anyone who could hold a gun while the stealth suits lurked to either side and a squad of Pathfinders had dug themselves in among the ceiling. Time and time again the Y'he rushed around the corner only to be met by the decisive hypersonic 'crack' of their rail-rifles...
RDF-White Nile, Far Above the Na'zed System, D'Yanoi Sept, Tau Empire...
“...I've got something here, Admiral. Detailed scans of the station show that its reactor is still operational and that there are a good number of non-whatever-those-things-are individuals nearby,” and Lieutenant lam Huynh tapped at his console to confirm something. “I'd say that they're looking to overload their capacitor grid and destroy the station.”
“And presumably that ship as well...” Walton commented. “If I had my guess. A valiant sacrifice. Will it work?”
“Unlikely? That ship's just nibbling on the edge of the station;” the main display shifted and zoomed to show the station and the bio-ship in question, both seemingly calm while the second's escorts slowly circled. “Even if they manage a blast, the bulk of the station will largely shield it from the results. Maybe if they're lucky they'll annoy it.”
Fidelo sat back in his chair, his fingers tapping a slow beat on the edge of his armrest. After a long minute of contemplation he said, “It is a most tenuous of decisions but I think we should fight. Why send us here – now - if we are not to act? They are not the clearest of signs and portents,” he admitted, “but they are something. Those ships attacked our beacon and they seem intent on coming here to destroy us. So they have declared themselves our enemy;” there was a giggle from behind him but he continued without turning. “As I do not intend to go sifting through the bowels of some great space beast, I hope that any answers we seek will be found aboard that station. Lieutenant Commander?”
“Aye, Admiral?” she answered, the smile on her face evident in her tone.
“You are overjoyed;” she nodded vigorously; “Modify your preferred plan of action so that we,” he tapped his armrest meaningfully, “may close with and board that station. The rest of the task force will engage the enemy fleet, allowing us as much time as they are able to make that search. Commander,” he turned to his executive officer, who nodded understanding before he had even completed his sentence, “You will have command of the ship. I will lead the boarding operation. This 'gift' was given to me,” he looked at the sculpture that had now been set in the spare seat beside him, “and the responsibility falls to me to discover where it leads.”
“Understood;” “How long until you have finalized your preparations?” the Admiral asked, moving to stand.
“Oh...”
...and he finished to find the question that had been asked in the Lieutenant Commander's tone to be answered as the station that had been the distant focus of the display now occupied it completely – but only for a moment. Ahead of him the image pitched and yawed as the warship pulled up, spun sideways, and a stream of torpedoes blasted away from the forward talons to annihilate one of the escorts.
“You wanted me to wait..?”
Ta'shiro Na'zed, On the Edge of the Zone of Silence, D'Yanoi Sept, Tau Empire...
One by one the defenders had fallen and one by one they had been replaced by those who could still fight - Meetse now among them. Buoyed by the Ethereal's unflinching presence, he had taken Kaiusi's shoulder once again to find cover behind a tumbled barricade of ruined technology. Here he was just able to fight, half-laying against the machinery with a carbine propped up to where it was pointed down the corridor. With the other he clutched his chest – something moved under his hand with each jolt of the weapon and every breath was ragged.
The young Kor'Saal was beside him wearing a helmet she had plucked from some unfortunate Pathfinder and playing the part as best she could. The pulse-charge in her weapon had long run out – ammunition was short all around – but the markerlight still worked and the first Y'he to charge the corridor relentlessly found itself with a mark on its chest time and time again.
Another surge, another rush – this time those in the lead going down not from the action of the T'au but from the gore of their fellows. Bodies were now piled so thick in places that there was the question of whether any could pass without cutting their way through – but still they tried. Once again his teeth gritted in pain as he pressed the firing stud, a crisp blue bolt missing a target he could only guess at and searing another line across the corridor bulkheads.
If they were T'au, he asked himself, taking another rattling breath before touching the trigger again, we would have given up. Found another way – why do they persist?
It was a question he would never have answered.
From the back of the charge a beast with a gun for an arm fired a rattle of spikes. Most clitter-clattered off the bulkheads or sank into the bodies of the already-fallen but one found the gap between his flight suit and his neck. A startling pain shot through his body and he flopped over, the Kor'Saal on him in an instant to drag him from the barricade. Agony spread through his body as he breathed deep, red eyes staring up and past her into one of the overhead lights. Blinded, a last memory of his Kor'Ui alone in the infirmary hallway drifted across the searing darkness and his chest sagged.
“...Again, they come!” Shots sizzled out and the young Air Caste leapt to her feet, grabbing up his weapon and making it her own as she added her own contribution of rage, throwing herself into his place and emptying the magazine in a last flurry of shots...
Aboard Ta'shiro Na'zed, On the Edge of the Zone of Silence, D'Yanoi Sept, Tau Empire...
For a moment jaws split wide and fangs roared fury before a sudden kindle of flames swept over the snarling quadruped, its body reduced to swift-drifting ash in an instant. Another followed and a warrior raised its lash just as a gray-lensed barrel swung to face it. Then the Admiral and his select boarders were alone – at least for the moment - surrounded by nothing more than slowly settling black soot.
Huang had deposited the boarders close to the heart of the station and with the immediate threat disposed of, Fidelo stopped to take his bearings while the rest fanned out from their insertion point. A wave of his hand and a holographic map of the nearby station appeared in front of him, their location highlighted and centered. “She is not very polite,” he half-muttered to himself as he compared what he saw to what he was presented with.
“But she chose well,” he admitted. Outside the station the 'Nile would be engaged in a chaotic short-ranged knife-fight against multiple opponents but her abilities were unmatched – now it was up to him to take advantage of whatever gains she could manage. “A left,” he glanced through the map to the end of the corridor and ramp ahead, “and then there is a long gallery with a passage on the right. This leads to an office space,” he studied the layout, “and this is where the defenders are. We must be cautious,” he warned, “For now they are our enemy's enemy. No more, no less.”
The men-but-not-men around him nodded understanding and with a sharp gesture one group separated from the rest to begin moving down the corridor ahead, bouncing from cover to cover with rifles leading the way while black-sphere drones spread out around them. Others worked to secure their breach-head, one stepping into an alcove to press a near-invisible band of tape against the circular opening before stepping back before settling into a position to guard their exit, his suit disappearing from view as he waited.
The architecture was familiar in a way and not just from the Admiral's time spent gazing at the exterior. It almost reminded him of the way things used to look – back before change had swept across the Force. Utilitarian but pleasant; none of the gaudiness one might find among certain others and without the pointless brutality that seemed to be rising in popularity. Then the crackle of rifles and the screams of agony interrupted his thoughts; at the end of the corridor the forward team was arrayed at the corner and he hurried towards them, his own weapons at the ready.
“Whole bloody mess of them up there,” one of the operators called back as he approached. “Looks like both sides have each other bottled up in that corridor;” the momentary flash of the station layout confirming his indication. “Or...”
An explosion shook the floor below their feet and they could both feel the blast wave push past them. Pieces of something followed it, fangs and claws and mandibles more grotesque splashing down across the floor or pattering off arcing bulkheads.
“Not... 'Erratic worked its way through the duct work,” the Arenja's voice continued with an audible fox-grin. “We sent it looking for a way past the blockage but it looks like the designers were no slouches – that's a right proper kill-zone. Poor little guy got frustrated and went 'boom' instead.”
“Ain't quite cleared 'em out though,” and a hologram showing the corridor around the corner appeared - the feed from one of the targeting sensors mounted under the muzzle of an operator's drone-rifle. Bloody carnage painted the walls on just this side of the middle corridor but on the other side the monsters rattled and charged even as one after another burst into flame and fell away to ashen cinders.
“I'd say they want whatever's in that room,” the operator commented, seemingly unfazed by the carnage.
“Then we too want what is in that room,” Fidelo decided. “The other end of that gallery leads out into the main body of the station. They will keep coming unless we somehow deny it to them.”
“I gotcha, Fed,” and another operator who had come up behind them stepped forward, a curious smile in her voice. “A little something-something we're field-testing. If you'll allow me?”
The two stepped back and she edged up to the corner, just far enough to give the four mini-missiles that rocketed away from her suit a clear arc to their destination. There wasn't as much of a 'bang-bang-bang-bang' as a 'thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk' and they turned their heads to watch the sensor feed.
The corridor itself did not seem to be sealed - at least until he watched several shots from a rifle poking out around the corner disappear just beyond the junction and a charging monstrosity vanish into thin air.
”...Cute,” and he tilted his head to consider both sides, “Shall I ask where the other end is?”
“Slobbering monster make good reactor mass, hurr hurr!”
Shaking his head silently under the mask of his helmet Fidelo stepped out into the corridor, a spare motion with his hand indicating that the others should stay back for now. Along both sides of the gallery there were thick windows set into long oval alcoves and through these he could both see the greater bulk of the outer side-wall of the station and the spindle-core. This sat alone and isolated except for the corridor ahead while two great arcs of plasma at the top and bottom fed power through the void.
Over one shoulder his rifle drone hovered but its barrel was silent as he crept forward – though the creatures on the other side of the gateway were not. Puzzlement had stopped them at first but the sight of a lone victim stirred them to action and they charged forward again in a rush, the forward rows ending with a scream and leap that was cut off as they found themselves part of the solution instead of part of the problem...
Just Around The Corner, Ta'shiro Na'zed, On the Edge of the Zone of Silence, D'Yanoi Sept, Tau Empire...
A great blast shook the room and the barricade and Kor'La Kaiusi involuntarily threw a hand over her head despite the helmet as pieces of an overhead light rained down on her. For a moment she whispered curses to herself but the shaking stopped and she rolled to her side to look up first at the hole in the ceiling and then to the Ethereal. The Aun'Ui still stood at her place, a pulse-pistol raised in one hand and her staff of office in the other. The faint shimmer of her shield drones had protected the Prelate from all danger though her hand was trembling almost imperceptibly.
Then she turned back to the corridor, rolling back onto her stomach and stretching out with as much of her long body behind the machinery as possible. At the corner of the threshold a pair of Fire Warriors lurked, one kneeling and the other standing above him while the faintest shimmer in the air told her that one of the lone hunters guarded the other side. Beyond there was carnage; piles of bodies blown apart and shattered by the guns of the Tau.
And beyond that?
A sudden silence.
A figure ran sprinted forward and past her, followed by another – medics dashing out from where they had hidden to pull the wounded back behind the barricade. One hefted a fallen Fire Warrior, the Earth Caste slinging him over his shoulder with ease to clamber over near to the wall. From somewhere out there came a snarl and a roar and she picked up the barrel of her carbine. Another moment of silence and then another scream, this time from many jaws and just as suddenly cut off. All waited quietly under again the medics and their helpers crept forward to offer aid where they could.
Then from the tunnel; ”Heylo?” followed by another even stranger-sounding word.
It was a voice but not a tongue she understood and her hand tightened as she cast a quickly glance over to the Ethereal and a whisper, “A trick.”
Then another voice answered, this time from behind the barricade as a thin Water Caste emerged from hiding, his eyes on the Ethereal as he stepped forward, “One of the Imperial tongues – and Aeldari!”
“Aeldari?” the Aun'Ui turned to look at him, the gun in her hand wavering openly as she focused on the Por'La. “Strange. One of the Eldar, here?”
“Not an Aeldari!” the man held up his hands and bowed in slight supplication. “They speak the tongue but do not have it – as a Kroot might speak T'aun. They are a Gue’la, I think.”
The Ethereal looked to the floor, considering his words and her own thoughts carefully, “Are you certain? The Y'he have managed trickery in the past.”
“Heylo?” and this time Kaiusi saw a hand momentarily appear at the end of the hallway; “Heylo?!”
“Aun'Ui,” one of the Fire Warriors who stood next to the breach called back, “There is someone there. They do not appear as the Y'he – they are wearing a battlesuit.”
“A Gue’la wearing a battlesuit?” She looked to the Water Caste, “The Will of the Greater Good be done, Por'La Tlas. Will you treat with this Gue’la? I give the choice to you.”
For a moment he looked stunned that she even knew his name and then, “I will try, Aun'El,” and he began to pick his way forward, crossing the barricade as those in his path drew their guns aside. Still it was at the edge of the corridor that he stopped, “Heylo? I am Por'La D'Yanoi Tlas;” and the rest of his words escaped them as he slipped completely into one of the Imperial dialects.
Back and forth, their conversation seemed to stretch out forever as Kaiusi watched, her hand still wary and close to the firing stud of her carbine. Then he turned, “He is a Gue’la – he calls himself Kor'O Fid'lo Villan'va” - though the words meant nothing to her - “and he says he is not an Imperial but is from somewhere else. I do not understand this but he says he comes in peace.”
“...I also don't have a lot of time.” This time the voice was in plain T'aun, though there was something odd about it, and a figure stepped into the open at the end of the corridor. “Neither do you – the hive fleet is heading back to the station and will be here soon.”
“You speak our tongue, stranger,” Tlas accused though he didn't retreat. Beside him the shimmering outline of the stealth suit shifted and the Fire Warriors rose and fell on their haunches, stretching in anticipation.
“No – you spoke to me. My computer was listening and built a language codex. Now it is translating what I say into what you can understand. I ask again - can I come in? As I said – there isn't a lot of time...”
The Por'Ui turned to look back at the Aun'El, the question given to her by the expression on his face. A moment's consideration and she nodded her assent, lowering her pistol as she did, “Approach, Kor'O – but know that if there is trickery the warriors of the Fire Caste will end you.”
“Of course,” Fidelo answered, stepping slowly down the hallway with his hands raised, picking his way around the corpses of the slaughtered Y'he. As he approached Tlas, Kaiusi was finally able to get a good look at him.
For all the Air Caste's disbelief, the Fire Warrior appeared to be right – he was wearing a battlesuit and by the look of the thing some version of the XV15 that now stood invisible beside him. A cyclopean helmet sat atop barrel-chested armor marked with silver and gray – though the jump pack was missing, as was the burst cannon.
“I am Admiral Fidelo Villanova, Republic of Sunset Defense Force. We are..,” somehow there was a smile in the electronic voice, “We're not from around here. But there are a lot of those ships headed back here. My ships are doing what they can but they seem very determined.”
A gesture and a hologram appeared; a view from some vantage point outside the station that swept and turned with dizzying speed but kept the vast bulk of the Y'he fleet squarely in the center. Flashes of light appeared among them, great and terrible, and a speck-ship vanished but still they bore down, undaunted and ignorant of their losses.
“If we hurry, we might just make the breach-head before they get here. The choice is yours,” he kept his focus squarely on the young Ethereal. “I've got friends waiting to help evacuate the wounded.”
“To where?” the Ethereal asked. “Our ships are lost and yours engaged in battle. And more – can I trust you? Do you know Tau'va?“
“The Greater Good? I understand it. I also understand that if I were given the chance at life, I would take it over a certain death,” the battlesuit held out a hand. “That seems like the Greater Good to me.”
There was the silence of consideration and then, “I will go.” Tlas took a step forward and turned to face the others. “He knows the tongue of the Aeldari and says that one of their witches led him here. Their truths are often terrible but they are always the truth.”
“Thank you,“ he took the Por'Ui's hand and extended the other to the Aun'El. “Anyone else? We're running out of time – bring your weapons and your armor. You won't need them, but if it will help you make the choice...”
“...I give your choices back to you,” she answered, looking around the room. “But I will come to at least see how you think we may escape. All T'au are under the guidance of the Greater Good and I will guide you until my last step...”
Back Aboard the White Nile, Na'zed System, D'Yanoi Sept, Tau Empire...
Kaiusi stumbled out of the invisible doorway, her hands outstretched as many others had been as they'd stepped through. Instead of death, a familiar but strange room greeted her – a cargo bay, she instantly realized. Shelves lined the walls and the frame of the portal behind her stood oddly slender in the industrial-looking space. Already scattered around the room were the others – Tlas, a Pathfinder sitting on a crate with her helmet in her lap, a pair of Fire Warriors talking to a person who almost but not quite looked like a T'au themselves.
Behind her she heard a heavy footfall and scurried forward, an invisible something almost brushing her as the XV15 passed through. A step aside and then she blinked – the robed Aun'El followed with the one who called himself Kor'O Fid'lo Villan'va just at her side.
“...the 'Nile is a warship, not a passenger liner, so we'll want to get you back to your people as soon as possible – otherwise you'll be sharing a bed,” he said as the two moved past her, others following behind. In truth there were nearly as many of his warriors as there were survivors – a great loss given a station the size of Ta'shiro Na'zed. For a moment there was sadness and then fingers pulled at her helmet, tossing it down beside a crate as she sat.
“I want to see this gift,” Aun'Ui answered, stopping to stand where all eyes could see her. “This 'guide' you say the Aeldari gave you.”
Kaiusi looked up, her thoughts tossed aside as suddenly as the helmet. It was fascinating to see someone so at ease with themselves that they could talk casually with an Ethereal. Suitable, she supposed, for one who took for themselves the title of Kor'O.
“Then I'll take you to the bridge,” he turned to gesture her towards a doorway where some of his warrior cadre were leaving while others dressed more normally – except for a variety of appearances that would only be seen in the most metropolitan of cities – came in return. These were medics and helpers as they seemed to present themselves immediately to their own, ready to assist where they could.
“And you,” he turned to jab a finger into the air, his hand stopping with a 'thump', “will have to turn that thing off. Bodyguard yes, navigational hazard no.”
“How did you...” but the Aun'Ui fell swiftly silent as he stepped back. For a moment the battlesuit went rigid and then it began to unfold, sliding outward along hidden seams until the pilot inside could be seen. Like their own pilots, he too had been ensconced with his arms across his chests and as he emerged he gave them an involuntary stretch and turned back to the still-invisible stealth suit.
“A clever warrior keeps their secrets. If you will accompany me, Aun'Ui Evia?” he turned to her and extended a hand. A nod and the XV15 appeared from thin air – though it did not disgorge its pilot as the other had. His arm under her elbow, he walked her towards the door, both the battlesuit and now Tlas trailing along behind.
Kaiusi shook her head as she watched them go and for a moment she was tempted to follow as well. Then a serpent-skinned woman approached her with a tray of hot food in her hands and the impulse was quickly forgotten...
The Bridge, RDF-White Nile, Pulling Away from the Na'zed System, D'Yanoi Sept, Tau Empire...
“...like this,” Fidelo demonstrated, holding his hand up as an example and swirling his fingers around before ending with them pointing down at his open palm. “Try it,” he offered, putting a hand next to both hers and the statuette.
“Like this?” the Aun'Ui looked skeptical, copying the position of his fingers with her own as she looked down at the wraithbone sculpture. It was immediately recognizable as Aeldari – Tlas marveling at this – but she found it odd that it would come to be in the possession of this Gue’la. Still she followed his instructions and the tendrils unfurled themselves into an open basin under her hand, the crystals swirling into motion around the outside edge...
...and then they fell, clattering and skittering across the black glass of the console to spread themselves before her.
There was a momentary silence and then she looked up to find him staring down at them, a particular expression on his dark face; “Is something wrong?”
“Yes – and perhaps no,” he answered, reaching over the basin carefully to pick up one of the crystals, first spinning it on edge between two fingers and then trying to place it in flight above the basin. “Before they would circle and then show the lights of the galaxy. Now...” he fixed her with his gaze.
“I broke it.”
“You did not,” his voice was confident. “Here,” and he moved his hand to reverse the motion with it ending as before atop her own. “That would have closed it but now? The task is done, though I am not sure what that task was.”
Commander Walton looked up from where he'd been working – commanding the ship, instead of flirting with yet another girl – and cocked a questioning eyebrow, “We're done?”
There was a deep breath from the Aun'Ui, “Your ships destroyed many Y'he and rescued those they could – the Devourer would have moved on strengthened from Na'zed to another system, another world. Perhaps it would have threatened the whole Sept. Perhaps that is what the Aeldari intended you to do.”
“Which was a lot of fun,” Lieutenant Commander Huang added, the black-haired woman looking over from her station next to them. “New high score!”
“...maybe we should talk somewhere away from the Lieutenant Commander,” Fidelo interjected, stepping between the two and putting the heel of his foot squarely on Janice's toes. If there was even a squeak she hid it well, instead clamping her mouth shut and nodding enthusiastic approval. Taking the Ethereal's elbow, he guided her to the far side of the bridge, which put them in front of the main screen and its view of the stars slowly sliding towards them.
“My apologies for the Lieutenant Commander. Shis is... very enthusiastic in her work.”
“You are a varied people, Kor'O,” she looked up at him. “Perhaps more exuberant than any T'au but it is good to enjoy your work if it serves the Greater Good.”
“...the Greater Good. Let's talk about you, Aun'Ui Evia,” and he took a slight step forward to stand over her, hands in his pockets.
“Me?” her eyes were wide. “I serve Tau'va, Admiral.”
“That's what I meant;” though she looked away suddenly and there was a rasping 'sigh' from somewhere on the bridge. “If we're done here – and we do seem to be – then the next step is to get your and your people home. If Tau'va wishes,” he added with a quick smile.
“I'm afraid I will have many opportunities to instruct you in the true meaning of the Greater Good...”
Now there was a giggle and he glanced aside to silence the source with a hard stare, “What do you mean?”
“The closest Sept world is many days away,” she answered. “Na'zed stood as a monitoring station over the Zone of Silence – those systems that were taken when the Devourer last encroached. The closest is Sel'kyth and it is some ten to twelve. For most of those who lived there it was all they ever knew. All I ever knew. And where... Perhaps one of the Earth Caste knows the coordinates and can inform you precisely.”
“I'll send someone,” he looked aside at the most recent offender, “down to the cargo bay to ask. But we're probably not all that far away,” he grinned softly and drew her attention to the screen where the stars still streaked softly past, though they were already thinning out as the ship headed out of the galaxy. “Perhaps a half-hour.”
“You lie.”
He shrugged, hands still in his pockets as he watched the stars, “I wonder what else is out there;” but she interrupted his meditation with a hand on his shoulder, “I think I would like to rest. You said there were quarters.”
“Yes, of course,” and he turned to her and put out a hand, “I'll show you myself.”
As they passed, Lieutenant N'ro reached down and pulled an imaginary bill out of an equally notional pocket and passed it over to Commander Walton, who took it with a smile and a whispered aside, “Told ya…”
“...Commander Walton,” the Admiral called back over his shoulder as he left the bridge, “Those coordinates..?”
RDF-White Nile, Docked at Sel'kyth Station, D'Yanoi Sept, Tau Empire...
“Admiral Fidelo Villanova,” the slender Por stepped forward, bowing his head slightly and clasping his hands together, “I present myself to you as Por'El D'Yanoi T'au Tlas Na'zek...”
All of the T’au standing in front of his desk were attired in very new looking formal robes and there was an air of excitement and expectation around them as they crowded his small office.
“...and as a new diplomat of the T'au and as a supplicant to the Will of Tau'va, I humbly ask for your gracious assistance in transporting myself and those who accompany me,” Tlas nodded first to one side, where the Air Caste woman Kaiusi stood and then to the other – a younger man the Admiral didn't recognize but who had something of the same bearing as Tlas to him, “...to the dwelling place of the Republic of Sunset, so that we may there bring witness of the Greater Good and discuss peace and prosperity between our peoples.”
“Of course. Though I suspect you have set yourself upon the greatest of tasks, Ambassador Tlas. We have been trying to spread... Perhaps something like the Greater Good for a long time,” again the small tug of a smile and there was a sparkle of laughter in the depths of his dark eyes. “But perhaps you'll be the one to find success. Welcome aboard – again. And you?” he looked past the three to where the Aun'Ui stood behind them. “Do you intend to travel with us as well?”
Like the others she too was wearing new garments; the dull-red of the D’Yanoi Sept and set here and there with the markings of her office but it was impossible to miss the necklace she wore. A half-dozen flat pink crystals sparkled across her chest, arrayed in bone-white settings of a more traditional T’au design.
The young woman tilted up her chin, the three parting so she could address the Admiral directly. Raising herself to her full height and rapping the butt of her staff on the floor, she looked carefully past him. Hanging behind him on the wall was a painting of a ship that looked entirely unlike his own and she focused on this as she spoke, “It is the place of the Ethereal to guide the footsteps of all T'au. I, Aun'Ui D'Yanoi T'au Evia Na'zek, will so guide these along their path...”
