Rogue Trader

by Andy Hoare

  The Space Marines had largely amalgamated into a single force, though Lucian noted with concern that his friend Sarik had encountered heavily armed and armoured battle suit infantry at Hill 3003 and his force was still engaged in that area. The remainder of the Space Marines, consisting of the Iron Hands, Scythes of the Emperor and Ultramarines, along with individual squads from a handful of other Chapters, had formed a single, large contingent under the direct control of Captain Rumann of the Iron Hands. That force had pressed towards the river, but had encountered large numbers of the jump-capable battle suit infantry. The Departmento Tacticae reported that the tau term for these particular battle suits, which the crusade had encountered a single example of, was ‘hereks’vre’, which in their tongue meant the ‘mantle of the hero’. Already, the Tacticae had bastardised that term to codify the battle suits as ‘XV’ class rigs, with various sub-classes already identified.

  Even Lucian was surprised that the Space Marines were having such a hard time of it, for the XV-class battle suits appeared their equal in almost every respect. They were heavily armed, each carrying anything up to three weapons systems, some of which were capable of scything down a Space Marine in a single shot. Their battle suits provided at least as much protection as the Space Marines’ power armour, and appeared to incorporate a number of additional systems such as advanced sensor and communication arrays. The XV-class battle suits were highly manoeuvrable too, for every one of them was equipped with a short-burn jump pack that made them as agile as an Assault Marine.

  The numerous skirmishes the Space Marines had fought against the various types of battle suit infantry all pointed to a single weakness, details of which the Tacticae had disseminated to all commands. The tau were proving lacking in the field of all-in, hand-to-hand fighting. Many theories as to why this might be had been posited, from a biological deficiency that meant the tau could not focus on close-up and fast-moving objects as quickly as a human, to a fundamental moral weakness born of their alien philosophies. Lucian had his own ideas, which he knew would not find many sympathetic ears amongst the Tacticae and might even bring about the wrath of Inquisitor Grand were he to voice them too openly. Lucian was beginning to suspect that the tau regarded close combat as a brutal and dishonourable slaughter. They excelled in manoeuvre warfare, using speed and agility to dictate the terms of battle. When it was necessary to commit to a close-quarters assault, Lucian guessed the tau utilised the savage aliens his force had encountered the previous night. He wondered if they were the only alien allies the tau used, recalling how ready they appeared to be to subvert the human worlds on the other side of the Damocles Gulf.

  Lucian’s own battle group had performed well, pressing towards the outlying suburbs of the city on the eastern side of River 992. The Rakarshans had met and defeated more groups of the savage aliens, and for a while the two groups had fought on more or less equal terms. Both were adept at taking full advantage of cover, and a running battle had developed amongst the outlying settlements. The aliens had launched repeated ambushes, leaping from the tops of low buildings to engage the Rakarshans in brutal close combat. Having witnessed the aliens’ despicable trait of devouring the corpses of the fallen, the Rakarshans’ morale had initially suffered, for the superstitious riflemen believed their foe to be the mythical daemons of their world’s dark legends. But Lucian had led them throughout the night, spearheading assault after assault and demonstrating that whatever else the aliens were, they were made of flesh and blood and could therefore bleed and die. The Rakarshans had learned that lesson well, and by morning the outlying suburbs were in their hands.

  In the wake of Battlegroup Arcadius’s assault came a huge force of Imperial Guard armoured and infantry units. As these gathered, the tau increased their hit and run attacks, and a front line had stabilised across the northern shore of the river where it looped around the flank of the city. The Imperial Guard had been forced to dig in, and it was only the aggressive and determined patrolling of the Space Marines into the no-man’s-land between the two foes that kept the alien forces largely at bay.

  Reaching the last of the latest batch of Tacticae updates, Lucian suppressed a curse. Concerned that the ground forces had reached an apparent impasse, Cardinal Gurney was shuttling down to the surface to imbue the warriors with his own particular brand of motivation. The cardinal’s lander was due at the front within the hour. Leaving the battle group in Major Subad’s command, Lucian left his warriors to head off whatever damage Gurney was no doubt intent upon inflicting on his own agenda, and that of his faction.

  Lucian took his place in the line of regimental commanders as the cardinal’s lander swooped in on screaming landing jets and settled on the dry ground, throwing up a plume of dust as its landing struts flexed and touched down. Behind the commanders were gathered several thousand Imperial Guardsmen and hundreds of tanks, all lined up in parade ground formation to receive this most august of visitors. The vessel was one of the ubiquitous ‘Aquila’ landers, the name taken from the highly stylised swept wing configuration that gave it the appearance of an eagle. Lucian could not help but give a snort of derision, for the vessel was far from standard in appearance. It was painted gold, as if it had been chased in priceless leaf, and every flat surface was covered in line after line of spidery devotional script. The coffers of the Ecclesiarchy were deep indeed.

  Ground crews rushed forwards to service the lander, and Lucian and his companions waited for the vessel’s passenger pod to lower and its hatch to open. Lucian’s eyes narrowed as the minutes dragged on, and he caught the furtive glances of those on either side. The minutes passed slowly, and Lucian’s annoyance rose. What by the warp was Gurney playing at; did he really think the assembled warriors had nothing better to do than wait on his convenience?

  Then the air was filled by the sound of chanting blaring out of a vox-horn mounted under the shuttle’s blunt nose. The sound was amplified so loud that the horn was distorting, resulting in little more than a discordant racket and certainly not the heavenly ­chorus Gurney no doubt imagined it to be.

  Then the passenger pod at the shuttle’s rear engaged, accompanied by the sound of whining servos. The pod thudded to the ground, and a moment later the hatch lowered.

  First to step out of the hatch was a robed and stooped attendant, an ornate censer held before him. A bluish cloud of sweet-smelling incense billowed from the orb, and the bearer voiced a loud imprecation, the gist of which was that the cardinal would not have to breathe the same air as the alien tau.

  As the censer bearer marched forwards, the cloying cloud blossoming in his wake, three more attendants made their way down the hatch. Each was carrying a large book, the pages held open so that all about might gaze upon the wisdom of the saints and martyrs that had composed them.

  Finally, Cardinal Esau Gurney appeared at the hatch and made his way down the walkway. The cardinal was regaled in the outrageous finery of his office, his robes the colour of ancient parchment lined with impossibly intricate, hand-stitched tracery. At his belt and around his neck Gurney wore dozens of holy relics, ranging from the smallest finger bones of saints to shining gold rings and other revered icons. He wore a cloak of deepest crimson silk, which trailed five metres and more behind him as he descended the ramp, and upon his head he wore a mitre bearing the sunburst skull of the Ecclesiarchy.

  Gurney paused before stepping forth onto the dusty ground, and spat upon the earth. It was a clear message to all who saw it that the cardinal considered the entire planet cursed by the presence of the xenos tau. Then, he stepped from the walkway and made his way with his procession towards the gathered warriors.

  Gurney halted in front of the gathered warriors, and stood there arrayed in his Ecclesiarchal finery, his dark gaze taking in the assembled ranks. Here was a side of the cardinal’s personality that Lucian had not yet witnessed. He knew that Gurney was a firebrand, and it was by his sermons that much of the military forces of t
he crusade had been gathered in the first place. Many months previously, Gurney had preached first on the world of Brimlock and then across an entire sector, bullying, inspiring and cajoling the Imperium’s leaders to contribute forces to the endeavour that became the Damocles Gulf Crusade. Many of those gathered here today would have heard those fiery sermons, and no doubt hold the cardinal in high esteem, regardless of what Lucian thought of the man.

  ‘Warriors of the Imperium!’ Gurney shouted, his voice so loud that even those warriors in the rear ranks would have no trouble hearing him. ‘I salute you! Much blood has been spilled these last days, and many fell crimes committed by the foul xenos, but you are sons and daughters of the Emperor, and no vile xenos can possibly stand before you!’

  The assembled Imperial Guardsmen were visibly moved by Gurney’s opening words. Previously weary eyes came alight with faith, and stooped shoulders straightened as pride returned to warriors who had known little more than frustration at the tau’s constant hit and run attacks and devastating ambushes.

  ‘Today, you are blooded and weary, for the xenos foe is possessed of many forbidden technologies,’ the cardinal continued. ‘It uses tricks and treachery, and is devoid of honour and faith!’

  The cardinal’s eyes burned with the light of righteous zeal as he pressed on. ‘But you are men of blood and faith! You bear the sanctified weapons of the Emperor, and all you need to conquer our foes is courage and cold steel, duty and honour!’

  ‘Duty and honour!’ the assembled Guardsmen repeated. ‘Duty and honour!’

  ‘Death or glory!’ The cardinal bellowed.

  ‘Death or glory!’ the warriors repeated. ‘Death or glory!’

  Lucian stalked away from the impromptu rally, his mood darkening. He was forced to concede that Cardinal Gurney’s sermon, which continued behind him, was certainly having a positive effect on the crusade’s morale. He had discovered that Gurney would be touring the entire front, with the exception of the Space Marine positions, and repeating his words until every Imperial Guardsman in the crusade had heard them.

  Lucian had no doubt that Gurney’s presence on the surface would serve to rally the army and get the warriors inspired again. But Lucian’s concerns were of a far more strategic nature. What happened afterwards, when Gurney returned to the crusade council with a string of victorious battles under his belt? That was what Lucian had sought to do, and it appeared to him now that Gurney was seeking to go one up on him, not by leading a force to victory, but by inspiring the entire army to slaughter the tau wholesale.

  If that were allowed to happen, then Gurney and his ally Inquisitor Grand might take control of the crusade council, and nothing anyone could do would stop them doing things their way. The tau would be wiped from the galaxy, their empire cast down in flames. As a rogue trader, Lucian considered that a crime of unimaginable proportions, for it deprived the Imperium of so many potential resources. If the tau could be forced to a weak negotiating position, the Imperium could benefit from the natural resources their region harboured. At the very least, Lucian’s clan could make a fortune in trade, but only if there were any tau left to force to the negotiating table and to actually deal with.

  As he approached the lines of Battlegroup Arcadius, Lucian located his signalman and gestured him over.

  ‘Patch me through to Korvane Gerrit Arcadius,’ he ordered. ‘Blade of Woe.’

  The signalman saluted smartly and set to work on his vox-set. After a minute, he had established the uplink and handed the headset to Lucian.

  ‘Father?’ his son’s voice came through the static-laced channel. ‘Father, are you well?’

  ‘Well enough, son,’ Lucian said. ‘But Gurney’s making a power play. What’s the situation with the council?’

  There was a pause as Korvane gathered his thoughts, during which Lucian could hear renewed cheering from the assembled Imperial Guard companies. Then Korvane’s response came through. ‘It’s been quite anarchic here, father, but I’ve made inroads towards filling the vacant council seats.’

  ‘Go on,’ Lucian said impatiently. Even in the midst of a major planetary invasion, he could not entirely relinquish his role of patriarch of a rogue trader dynasty.

  ‘Tacticae-Primaris Kilindini,’ Korvane said. ‘How well do you know him?’

  ‘Not well,’ Lucian said as he recalled the man his son was referring to. ‘He’s the head of one of the Departmento Tacticae divisions?’

  ‘That’s our man,’ Korvane replied, warming to his subject. ‘He’s the overseer of codes and ciphers, but I’ve looked into his service record and I think he might be agreeable to our faction’s agenda.’

  ‘How so?’ Lucian replied. ‘Isn’t he more concerned with breaking alien comms?’

  ‘Yes, father,’ Korvane said. ‘But I’ve uncovered details of his serving alongside an Adeptus Terra diplomatic mission. The mission was to an eldar craftworld.’

  ‘Interesting,’ Lucian said, his mind racing ahead of him, aware that such contact was rare, but not unheard of. ‘I take it this particular mission was especially out of the ordinary?’

  ‘That it was, father.’ Lucian could hear the smile on his son’s lip’s as he spoke. ‘In that it did not end in mass bloodshed or planetary devastation.’

  ‘Then you think Primaris Kilindini would be willing to back our intent. He’d be willing to enter talks?’

  ‘He is willing, father,’ Korvane replied. ‘I’ve spoken to him already.’

  ‘You’ve already…’ Lucian bit back a stern reproach. He had after all left his son to deal with things. ‘You’ve got his agreement? He’ll join us?’

  ‘He will, father. And both Gauge and Jellaqua will back him too. You’ll have to speak to Sarik and Rumann though.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Lucian replied. ‘And son?

  ‘Well done.’

  Chapter Five

  Brielle gripped the railing as she looked down from the high gallery at the operations centre below. The whole chamber was shaped like the inside of a huge sphere, with row upon row of galleries working downwards towards the projector of a massive holograph in the very centre. Hundreds of tau officers manned stations all around the galleries, with each of the four castes of the tau race represented. Fire caste warriors coordinated ground operations, while air caste representatives controlled impossibly complex fleet manoeuvres like it was second nature. Earth caste leaders coordinated the logistics chain, while the water caste facilitated communications and the smooth operation of the entire endeavour. The tau war fleet was on the move again, a massive force heading in-system towards Dal’yth Prime.

  ‘There’s no way they’ll do anything but accept your terms when they see the size of this fleet,’ Naal said. Brielle’s response was to grip the white rail all the tighter, lest she make some remark she would later come to regret.

  ‘The evacuation is ninety-eight per cent complete,’ Naal continued, oblivious to Brielle’s feelings on the matter. ‘Ground forces are massing at Gel’bryn. The crusade has stalled before it’s even got going.’

  ‘Will you just…’ Brielle started, but Naal interrupted her.

  ‘Main viewer, Brielle,’ Naal gestured towards the operations centre below.

  As Brielle followed Naal’s gesture, the holograph came to life. A huge, semi-transparent globe grew from a single blue point of light in the dead centre of the spherical chamber. It expanded to become a representation of local space the size of the entire chamber, so that even from the high gallery it filled Brielle’s field of vision. A tau icon showed the location of Dal’yth Prime, and a cluster of smaller symbols indicated the position of the crusade’s main ships of the line. A string of smaller icons showed the Imperium’s supply vessels as they plied to and fro from the edge of the system, and, presumably, towards the Damocles

  Gulf.

  Then the globe expanded still further, its outer surface a
lmost within arm’s reach, and Brielle was struck by how flawlessly the projection device operated compared to its equivalents in humanity’s service. Her father’s flagship, the Oceanid, had such a device on its bridge, but much smaller and far less reliable. The secret of the manufacture of hololiths, as the Imperium called them, was a closely guarded secret known only to a handful of Adeptus Mechanicus forge worlds, and Lucian’s had been gifted to an ancestor of the Arcadius as reward for services rendered during the liberation of such a world from an ork invasion.

  The globe stabilised, the individual icons representing the Imperium’s warships amalgamating into a single, distant rune. At the edge of the blue globe there appeared a series of tau symbols that Brielle recognised as indicating alien naval battle groups. Naal was right. The fleet that Brielle was travelling on massively outnumbered the Imperium’s force. Even if the crusade could summon reinforcements from across the Damocles Gulf, there was no way any would arrive in time to save it.

  But, according to Aura’s plan, the crusade would not need saving. It would need reasoning with, negotiating with. The tau still believed, despite all the evidence to the contrary, that the Imperium could be convinced to join the tau empire and sign up to the Greater Good.

  The tau were nothing if not optimistic, Brielle thought, a state of mind rarely seen in the Imperium.

  ‘Mistress Brielle,’ the voice of the tau water caste envoy Aura sounded from behind her. She forced herself to appear unconcerned, despite the fact that she had not heard him coming. She was normally very good at detecting people creeping up on her…