by Andy Hoare
‘They have not,’ replied the commander, transfixing her with his glare.
‘And neither will they,’ said a third tau, stepping forward as he did so. Brielle could tell that this individual was younger than Commander Puretide, and he stood taller and more erect. Something in the way the tau carried himself gave Brielle pause. This one was dangerous, she thought.
‘Mistress,’ Aura continued, ‘please forgive me. These others are the commander’s companions. I believe a better word, in your tongue, might be pupils or students, though neither word is entirely satisfactory.’ Aura indicated with a graceful sweep of a long arm each of the tau as he spoke their names. ‘Farsight, Shadowsun and Icewind.’
Each of the three nodded to Brielle as their name was spoken. Farsight was the tau who had spoken a moment before, and Shadowsun, a female tau stood next to him, her expression calm and unreadable. Next to her stood the tau introduced as Icewind, his expression one of calculated study of everything that transpired around him.
Brielle nodded in greeting to Puretide’s pupils, before addressing the commander once more. ‘The fleet will send out scouts to identify its first target. Tell me commander, which system lies closest?’
‘Mistress Arcadius,’ Commander Puretide replied, ‘this very system lies closest.’
‘Have you attempted to communicate with them?’ she asked, a sense of dread mounting within her.
‘We have not,’ Aura interjected. ‘We require that you do so on our behalf.’
Now Brielle’s dread threatened to well up into panic. ‘No!’ She turned from Puretide, to Naal. ‘I cannot, they will kill me before I…’
‘You will have the might of the Tau Empire behind you,’ Aura cut in. ‘They will not dare harm you.’
‘You don’t know them,’ Brielle said, her mind racing for an alternative even as she spoke.
‘Nonetheless,’ Aura said, ‘you must do so, for the Greater Good. If you do not wish to join the tau, then you are free to return to your people.’ The breeze whipped Brielle’s plaited hair into her face, causing her to flick her head in irritation. ‘But if you choose to do so, you do so alone. Join us, or return to them. The choice is yours.’
That’s no choice at all, Brielle thought as Aura’s words sank in. Return to the fleet as a traitor in the service of the tau, or do so as a cornered renegade with nowhere left to run.
‘I need time to think,’ Brielle said, desperately stalling for time.
‘You have until sunset, Mistress Brielle,’ Aura said, his mournful voice barely audible over the mounting breeze. ‘Time is against us all, and I must have an answer before war comes to the Tau Empire.’
Chapter Thirteen
The cramped bridge of Korvane’s scout vessel was dark and silent, every member of the bridge crew intent upon the operation of their sensor equipment. Korvane sat at the rear of the bridge space, the crew arrayed to his side and the pilot occupying the station below him. He stared out of the multi-faceted cockpit canopy, brooding at the system before him.
His hand trembled, and he gripped the seat’s arm until his knuckles turned white. He forced his mind onto anything other than the pain and the substance that would mask it.
The crusade’s charts listed this place as the Kendral sub-sector. It was a meaningless appellation as far as Korvane could tell, in all likelihood named for one of the explorators who had passed through six millennia before. Whoever Kendral was, he had not returned to settle the region named after him, and so no one would ever know what deed had earned him the right to have an entire region of space share his name. The system had no name, just a designation within the sub sector: KX122. Even now, Korvane’s scout wing was edging into the system’s outer reaches, each vessel on silent running lest they give away their presence to any tau in the locality.
‘Report,’ ordered Korvane.
A crewman, hunched over a glowing terminal, answered, ‘Passive readings confirm the presence of at least a dozen stellar bodies, my lord. We are approaching the nearest as ordered.’
‘Good,’ Korvane replied. Looking through the canopy, he caught his first glimpse of the world in question. KX122/13 was expected to be a small, dense world consisting of little more than rock and ice. With only the passive sensors to rely on, the scouts would need to make a close pass in order to gather much more information, and this they would do as the world came into view.
Very little light fell upon KX122/13 this far from the system’s single, cold white stare. Only the blue of the surrounding nebulae glinting from its icy surface caught Korvane’s eye.
‘Take us in low, pilot,’ Korvane ordered. ‘I doubt there’s anyone about, but if there is, I don’t want them to see us coming.’
‘Confirmed,’ replied the pilot. ‘Activating ground following radar in point…’
‘Denied!’ snapped Korvane. ‘I ordered passive sensors only and I meant it.’ Korvane’s rage was growing as the pilot turned to look up at him.
‘Sir, without the…’
‘I said,’ Korvane said through gritted teeth, ‘denied. You will follow my orders to the letter, or you will stand down. Do you understand?’
Correctly deducing that the question was entirely rhetorical, the pilot turned back to his task. Korvane stared at the back of the man’s head for a moment, before looking out of the canopy. KX122/13 was coming into view, its blue, cratered surface dimly visible against the blackness of space. The pilot instigated a change of course that levelled the small vessel out. The horizon reared up from below, filling half of the view, the light of the distant star casting a ghostly halo above. Korvane leant back in the acceleration couch and scanned the read-outs around the bridge.
It felt both liberating and frustrating to be in command, not of a mighty cruiser with thousands of crew, but of a scout wing of four vessels, each with only a few dozen crew. It was the first time in his career that Korvane had undertaken such a mission, though he felt supremely confident in his ability to carry it through. He sighed as he admitted that in truth, he was glad to be away from the crusade fleet, from the myriad demands of running his vessel. He knew that he was also eager to escape his father’s shadow, to ply his own course, for a while at least. He reflected ruefully how his stepsister had attempted to do something similar, and made such a mess of it. Well, he would prove that he was fully capable of making things work on his own, and to bring honour and profit to the Arcadius through his own actions.
In the meantime, he mused, if Brielle was out there, on the run, he would ensure that she never returned to the crusade fleet and to the Arcadius. Thinking of his stepsister brought a dark cloud down upon him. When he had learned of Brielle’s assault upon Inquisitor Grand and her subsequent disappearance, he had been gladdened, though he had struggled to hide his reaction from his father. Recently, however, as the crusade had pushed on towards tau space, it had occurred to him that she must still be out there, somewhere. And so, he had seen the opportunity to place himself in a position of power, from where he could react should Brielle reappear. He had no idea exactly what he would do should he locate her, but, he brooded, he would worry about that if and when it happened.
‘Sir?’ The pilot said, breaking Korvane’s reverie.
‘Report,’ he snapped back.
‘Descending at your command.’
‘Do it.’
Korvane felt an immediate change in the pitch of the scout vessel’s drives as the pilot altered course, bringing the small ship’s nose down towards the distant surface. Almost immediately, a series of small tremors passed through the vessel. Korvane looked to a pict-slate over the pilot’s station, and saw from the readings scrolling across its blue screen that they had hit the outer edges of a very thin atmospheric envelope. A second series of shudders jolted the scout vessel, and Korvane checked that his harness was properly secured. The sound of the drives grew more intense, building to a de
afening roar, as the angle of descent grew more acute. Looking from the pict-slate to the canopy, Korvane saw small trails of gas dancing across the armoured glass, the leading edge of the shuttle’s blunt nose glowing faintly orange with the heat generated as it plunged through the atmosphere.
‘Sir!’ a crewman behind Korvane called out, raising his voice over the cacophony of atmospheric entry. ‘Vox transponders are picking up a faint signal.’
Korvane’s heart pounded as he read the data patched through to his console screen. He felt an exhilaration quite different to that he experienced at the bridge of the Rosetta in similar circumstances. Now, he sat not aboard a might cruiser able to take fearsome punishment from other vessels, but in a tiny scouting vessel that could take none, relying instead upon stealth and guile to survive. He struggled for a moment to make sense of the data, before realising that it represented not a weak signal, as the crewman had reported, but a very tightly focused one. And that, he surmised, could mean only one thing: a small tau presence, perhaps an outpost or research station, and the perfect target for his first action.
‘Take us in, pilot,’ Korvane ordered, thrilling to the prospect of an easy victory to report back to the fleet. ‘Lock on to the signal source. Bring us in low and fast.’
The pilot hunched over his controls, driving the scout vessel lower. As Korvane watched, the view through the canopy became entirely obscured by superheated gases, and the ship bucked and jolted violently. Korvane saw that the pilot was flying entirely by the passive sensors, and by the uncanny instinct with which the pilots of the Navy pathfinder squadrons were rightly famed.
A moment later, the view through the armoured canopy cleared, and Korvane saw that the vessel was coming up on the end of an impossibly steep dive. He resisted the urge to order the pilot to arrest the descent, and an instant later the pilot hauled back on the control column with all his might. Korvane was forced back into the acceleration couch as the gravitational forces at work on the vessel mounted. Even as he felt he might pass out, the pilot brought the vessel out of the dive, and on to an even trajectory less than a hundred metres from the cratered surface. Korvane gasped for breath as gravity returned to normal, and released the harness strapping him into the couch. He leaned forward, over the pilot’s shoulder, to gain a better view of the ground as it passed rapidly by below.
The surface of KX122/13 was cratered and scarred. Ice glistened dimly in the faint starlight, but Korvane could make out nothing obviously artificial or out of place. He checked the read-out above the pilot’s station once more, and saw that they were closing in on the source of the signal.
‘Sensors, I want a full, active scan the moment we reveal ourselves, understood?’
The crewman at the sensor station at Korvane’s side turned and looked straight at him. ‘Sir, standard doctrine is to…’
‘I gave you an order!’ Korvane spat, anger once more welling up. He felt his frustration growing steadily as the Navy crew felt it reasonable to question his orders. He would not have accepted such a lapse in discipline on the bridge of the Rosetta, and he was damned if he would do so here.
‘But sir,’ the crewman continued, evidently prepared to risk Korvane’s ire, ‘if they have any local defences they’ll be able to lock onto us in seconds.’
‘I am fully aware of that,’ Korvane replied, barely able to keep his voice steady as his anger threatened to boil over, ‘but an entire fleet is relying on us. We need only confirm the tau’s presence, and then we can return to the fleet and report our findings. Do as I order, now, or your career is ended.’
‘Understood, sir,’ the crewman replied, turning from Korvane and working the controls at his station. Korvane watched for a moment, satisfying himself that the man was in fact preparing his instruments to perform a full, active scan the instant the scout vessel came into range of the signal source.
‘Range?’ Korvane asked. He felt a growing tension, but was damned if he’d let the Navy crewmen detect it.
‘Three seventeen,’ the pilot responded, not taking his eyes from the view outside.
‘Descend to fifty metres,’ Korvane ordered. He was determined that the scouts would have the advantage of surprise. If the tau did have any local air defence, then coming in so low might gain precious seconds in which the active sensors could scan the outpost. Any intelligence that Korvane could bring back would be invaluable in furthering the cause of the Arcadius against that of Cardinal Grand and his faction.
Korvane braced himself once more. The pilot pushed forward on his control column, the vessel descending so that the craters and ridges flashing by below lurched up into close proximity. Korvane could make out individual boulders on the surface, and could see that the deep blue colouration of the ground was caused by large dunes of drifting blue particles. A low, mountainous spine reared up on the horizon.
‘Twenty seconds, sir,’ the pilot intoned.
‘Good,’ Korvane replied. ‘Sensors, prepare for…’
‘Contact at three-three-six!’ called out another crewman. Korvane spun to his right, looking over the shoulder of the man who had spoken.
‘Identify,’ Korvane replied.
‘Four, belay that, five fast moving class fives, range… three kilometres and closing.’
Korvane forced down a mounting panic. ‘Heading?’
The crewman turned to look Korvane right in the eye. ‘They are inbound on our position, sir.’
Before Korvane could answer, the pilot spoke. ‘Five…’
Korvane’s mind raced to keep pace of events. He took a deep breath and forced himself to steady his nerves. He thought fast.
‘Pilot, perform one pass and then break for orbit. Sensors, get as much as you can, while you can. Understood?’
Neither man answered him. As the countdown reached zero, Korvane felt the scout vessel lurch suddenly upwards, the low mountain range sweeping by beneath.
Then, Korvane saw the source of the signal. Beyond the ridge lay a wide depression, an ancient crater, the flanks of which were all but obscured by the drifting blue particulates. A tall, sail shaped structure soared into the sky at the centre of the crater. Korvane had only tau starship design to go on, but he knew instantly that this structure was of tau manufacture, the clean lines already familiar to him.
‘Scanning,’ called the sensor operator as the pilot brought the vessel down into the crater, skimming a mere twenty metres above the ground before bringing the ship upwards in a wide, banking roll.
‘Comms,’ Korvane said, addressing another crewman, ‘I want a short burst transmission ready the instant we get clear.’ Even as he spoke, Korvane tapped his report into his command terminal, sealed it with his personal cipher and shunted it on to the comms operator’s station.
‘Contacts closing at seven fifty kilometres per hour!’ the sensor operator called out.
‘Sir,’ the pilot said, ‘at this speed and heading I can’t evade. We need to get clear, right now!’
Korvane forced down the urge to snap back at the man, knowing that the pilot was correct. He knew that they would not obtain a full scan if they pulled out now, but at least they would escape with their lives. ‘Take us home, pilot,’ Korvane ordered, hearing sighs of relief from the bridge crew behind him as he spoke.
‘Hold on,’ the pilot warned, before hauling back on the control column. The horizon dropped and the black of space hove into view through the canopy. Korvane felt his body forced back into the acceleration couch and struggled to fasten the harness.
‘Contact closing,’ the sensor operator announced, an edge of alarm in his voice. ‘Speed increasing…’
‘Incoming!’ called out another crewman. Korvane looked around desperately for the cause of the warning, before the pilot heaved upon his controls and the vessel lurched violently to port. An instant later, what was obviously a high velocity missile streaked past upon a billowin
g contrail, before veering off and disappearing from view.
‘It’s coming round!’ a voice called in outright panic. Korvane looked to his tracking screen, and saw that the missile was indeed beginning a wide arc that would bring it back on to the scout vessel’s tail.
‘Pilot,’ Korvane called, ‘bring us back around on heading seven six nine.’
‘Towards the contacts, sir?’
‘Towards the contacts. They clearly outmatch us for speed and reach. Call in the rest of the wing and close on enemy contacts.’
Korvane tightened the lock on his acceleration harness. If it’s a fight they want, he thought, then it’s a fight they’ll get.
Chapter Fourteen
‘Signal?’ Lucian asked, not taking his eyes from the view through the forward viewing port.
‘None as yet, my lord,’ replied the newly appointed communications officer. ‘All commands at alert status alpha crimson. We’re on track for the assault when the Blade gives the word.’
‘Thank you, Mister Katona,’ Lucian replied, grateful that a flesh and blood human was manning the comms station. Lucian had petitioned Jellaqua for an intake of seconded officers following the disaster that had decimated his bridge crew during the crossing of the Damocles Gulf. The admiral had obliged, and not a moment too soon, in Lucian’s opinion, for things were about to get very serious indeed.
Lucian continued his vigil at the armoured port. The scene was quite spectacular, even to one with the heritage of a rogue trader line behind him. The entire battle line of the Damocles Gulf crusade fleet was arranged against the lambent blue nebulae, ready and waiting to begin its attack on the tau system into which it had arrived. The Blade of Woe, Admiral Jellaqua’s four thousand year old Retribution class battleship lay mere kilometres to the Oceanid’s prow. Several kilometres long, the vessel was slab sided and sharp-prowed, and bristled with weapons turrets and sensor arrays. She bore the scars of hundreds of battles. Lucian knew the battleship to be a fearsome opponent in a fight, her broadsides easily the match for any tau vessel he had yet to witness. Furthermore, Lucian had spoken with the admiral several hours earlier, and knew he would be taking a direct hand in his ship’s operation when things got heated. Jellaqua might be a senior admiral of the Imperial Navy, but Lucian knew he would not be able to resist the urge to captain his flagship in person, leading from the front in a glorious example to the other captains of the line.