by Andy Hoare
'My lord? he said, looking to Droon for some explanation of this new development. The Imperial Commander merely chuckled, not taking his eyes off the incoming ships.
Korvane gathered his thoughts, forcing himself to adopt an outward calm that he did not entirely feel within. As he watched, he saw that there were five vessels inbound on their own position, each somewhat larger than the shuttles the Arcadius made use of for interface operations.
The ships were wide and flat, with the distinct appearance of some bizarre sea creature. A wide, curved delta wing bristled with weapons turrets, a double hammerhead shape forming the prow. Korvane saw instantly that these vessels were of undoubted xenos origin, for no human ship he had ever seen moved so smoothly through the air, or, he realised with a shock, so quietly, for the vessels made barely a sound as they swept in.
'They are quite beautiful, in their way, are they not, Korvane? Droon asked, still not taking his gaze away from the sight of the alien vessels' approach.
Korvane had seen alien ships before, been onboard them in fact, and spoken with their masters, but nonetheless, he could not identify the origins of these vessels. 'Indeed, my lord. Might I ask-
'Who they are? Droon now turned to face Korvane. 'They are my new allies, or more accurately, they are mercenaries, willing to fight for our cause against the likes of Luneberg'
They were better equipped than any mercenary company Korvane had ever encountered, but at least that put them in Droon's employ, he thought, which might serve to keep them under control. 'And their origin? he asked.
'The galactic east, so I am told, beyond the Ring. Droon said, his tone dismissive.
'Across the Gulf? Korvane asked, unsure from Droon's answer whether the Imperial Commander was being evasive, or was merely ignorant of the issue.
'I could not say with any certainty, Korvane, and I would scarcely expect them to divulge the location of their world. I do not care from where they come, merely that their service will enable me, us, once and for all, to curtail Luneberg's treacherous ambitions. Do you condemn me, Korvane?
'Of course not, my lord' Korvane answered. Droon evidently felt some unease with the fact that he was forced to employ hireling xenos to prosecute his war, but Korvane was the scion of a rogue trader dynasty, and above such concerns. 'I merely ask out of curiosity, for I like to know with whom I deal'
'Commendable, I'm sure' replied Droon. 'Few men would understand the plight we on the Eastern Rim must face. Few would understand the means we must go to in order to defend ourselves from those who covet what little we have. Ah! Look, they land'
The five alien vessels had completed their approach run, and now lingered in almost complete silence over the valley floor. Korvane saw that they hovered over the only area of ground not occupied by the precisely arrayed defence force units. As he watched, the air beneath each shimmered, the tell-tale indication, Korvane knew, of powerful gravity drives in action. They would have to be powerful, he thought, to hold aloft the bulk of these craft.
In a single, perfectly synchronous manoeuvre, the five vessels descended the last one hundred metres, landing gear deploying from the belly of each at the last possible moment, and settled on the ground with barely a sound.
A silence settled upon the scene, Korvane sensing Droon's anticipation, and the defence troopers' unease at their proximity to the alien vessels. Turret-mounted weapons atop each of the craft swivelled, sweeping the area around the vessels, but thankfully not lingering on any one target. As seconds stretched into minutes and no other activity was evident, Korvane envisaged the slaughter that would ensue if violence were to erupt between the five vessels and the ranks of troopers, tanks and artillery arrayed on the valley floor. The damage wreaked upon each would be terrible, he saw, although he could not say with any confidence which side would come off the worst.
Finally, a large section of the underbelly of each ship detached, descending slowly on what appeared to be pneumatic arms. The wide, rectangular platforms of all five vessels simultaneously touched the ground. From the gallery, Korvane could barely see whether any passengers rode on the platforms, but a moment later, he saw a number of disc-shaped objects glide out from under each vessel, spreading out and forming a perimeter around each.
The discs were around a metre in diameter, and coloured a pale, off-green, insignia in the form of red stripes adorning their panels. Some form of antenna protruded from the discs' upper face, and a single lens was mounted in an underslung, armoured housing.
The discs hovered several metres above the ground, another indication, Korvane saw, that this race, whoever they were, had attained a level of mastery of the anti-gravitic arts surpassing those of mankind. Although the discs bore no obvious weaponry, their proximity to the troops was causing obvious tension, and Korvane noted how the NCOs issued growling threats to their men to remain steady and to show no sign of disorder or dissension.
The discs having taken station around each vessel, Korvane saw, through the sights of his magnoculars, that the elevator platforms did indeed carry passengers. A procession set out from the nearest vessel. The first figure to come into view as it emerged from beneath the vessels was more or less man sized, thin, and sporting long, flowing robes of a fine, silvery material.
'Ah! He has come, as they said he would' exclaimed Droon, some relief evident upon his face. Korvane remained silent, he would no doubt discover what concerns Droon had had in due course.
As the tall figure stepped forwards, more emerged behind it. These were of an entirely different build, and it took Korvane a moment to ascertain that in all likelihood they were some form of motivated armour or light vehicles, for they were tall and square, with what could only be weaponry mounted upon each arm. Behind these, more figures emerged. They were more like the first, although shorter and broader of shoulder, each hel-meted and bearing a long, slender rifle. Warriors, no doubt, thought Korvane, an honour guard for the first figure.
Korvane looked towards the other alien vessels and saw more warriors, tall, armoured forms as well as those on foot, marching out from beneath each vehicle. Once arrayed, he could see that each vessel had disgorged something in the region of fifty warriors. Except the process was evidently not yet complete, for now a huge ramp lowered from the rear of each vessel, and before it had even touched the ground, a number of armoured vehicles disembarked, each borne aloft upon shimmering anti-grav fields, and each sporting what appeared to be quite fearsome weapons mounted on smoothly rotating turrets.
At the last, the hovering vehicles moved into formation with the ranks of alien infantry. Each of the five formations appeared to Korvane as large as a company of the Arris Epsilon Planetary Defence Force, though granted far greater firepower thanks to their armoured gunships. The tall alien, his silver robes flowing elegantly in the gentle breeze, stood at the head of the formation. Behind them were the low, wide vessels in which they had arrived, and to either side and behind were arrayed the endless ranks of Droon's own forces. From the gallery upon which he stood, the sight was nothing short of spectacular, thought Korvane. Standing beside him, Droon appeared almost drunk with the vision of power below him, evidently relishing the opportunity afforded to him finally to end the ancestral war with Mundus Chasmata.
Droon turned to Korvane. 'Come, Korvane, and meet the tau'
Korvane stood in the centre of the apartment given over to his use, donning his formal attire, for he was expected at the Imperial Commander's court in mere minutes. There he would be introduced to the aliens that Droon referred to as mercenaries.
Could they really be mercenaries? Korvane had come into contact with all manner of hired guns and sell-swords in his career, and they had ranged from highly professional outfits to near-brigands, but they had never, in his experience at least, taken a form such as these aliens.
It was not the fact that the mercenaries were aliens that bothered him, for he had spoken the truth when he had told Droon that it did not concern him. It was more that thi
s particular race appeared possessed of a high level of technology, and combined with the fact that Droon appeared ignorant of their origin, Korvane was far from sure that they would be as cooperative or as trustworthy as Droon had stated.
Although nervous, he resolved to hold off judging them, but to remain cautious and on his guard nonetheless. These aliens were, he judged, well organised and possessed of highly advanced technology. They might prove a threat to more than the Timbra Subsector, he thought. They might prove a threat to the Imperium.
As he buttoned the gold brocade across the armoured breast of his formal jacket, Korvane's thoughts turned to what course of action his father might take in such circumstances. No doubt, he would brazen his way through, Korvane thought, keeping his cards characteristically close to his chest throughout, before somehow coming out on top. Having been brought up in the rarefied atmosphere of high court, Korvane found such an approach deeply irksome, despite the fact that it was more often than not successful.
Successful in the short term, Korvane thought, but not in the longer term, the future of the Arcadius Dynasty, now, more than ever, looked grim. Granted, his father commanded a flotilla of cruisers and owned other, sizable interests on a string of worlds between the Eastern Rim and Terra, but for how long? If the dynasty could not be maintained those interests would be sold off one by one, until, at the end, just the three of them remained, commanding a flotilla of crewless vessels, their holds empty and their reactors cold.
This expedition had been intended to secure the dynasty's future, until the point, no doubt still many years off, when Korvane would come into the inheritance guaranteed as part of the terms of marriage between his mother and his father. But his mother, Emperor bless her shrivelled soul, had, thanks to countless rejuve courses, lived two centuries already, and appeared likely to live for another two at least. Korvane had already reached the conclusion that only he could ultimately save the Arcadius, and here and now, he knew that to be truer than ever.
As he fastened his belt, hefting the sanctified falchion gifted him by his great uncle, the Hierarch of Terrabellum Nine, Korvane determined that whatever came of this encounter with the aliens, he would ensure that, by his actions the fortunes of the Arcadius would be revived, for all time.
A knock sounded at the apartment door, and Korvane knew it was time to pay court. This, he thought, smiling to himself, was what he was born and raised to do.
The door to Droon's audience chamber swung open, and Korvane stepped through into the cavernous space carved into the mountainside. The chamber thronged with courtiers and the setting sun, visible through the open cave mouth, cast the scene in a deep, jade light.
'Ah! Korvane, step forward and meet our new associates!
The head of every courtier in the chamber turned towards Korvane. Droon addressed him from his throne at the cave mouth, and beside him stood the tall alien who had led the procession from the xenos vessels. The alien took a step forwards, and paused before Korvane.
The figure was slightly taller than an average man, his spindly arms and legs engulfed in the flowing robes of shimmering, silver fabric. His face was visible beneath a wide, flat hat, and that face was without a nose and dominated by black, almond shaped eyes. The skin was a pale, bluish grey, and the mouth wide, flat and expressionless. Korvane noted a vertical slit in the centre of the forehead, only barely discernible beneath the wide hat — an olfactory organ perhaps, or something more exotic, thought Korvane.
The figure stood before Korvane and made a slight bow. Korvane's courtly upbringing told him instantly that here was a being skilled in the political arts. This was no commander of mercenaries, thought Korvane, but some manner of ambassador or diplomat. This might be an alien, but some things varied little between races.
'I present' Droon announced, 'Korvane Gerrit of the Arcadius, trader and master of the Arcadius fleet.
Korvane remained silent, aware of his part in the unfolding ceremony. Droon had introduced Korvane to the alien, in all likelihood indicating that the Imperial Commander at least considered the alien of higher rank than Korvane. He would let that slide, for now at least.
Then, his voice booming with evident pride, Droon introduced the alien, 'Por'o'Sar, envoy of the tau.
Korvane dipped his head in greeting, waiting to see whether the alien would address him directly, or whether Droon would speak on his behalf.
'Master Gerrit. the alien said in flawless, smooth High Gothic, surprising Korvane with the clarity of his speech. 'I am honoured to meet you. Lord Droon tells me you are a trader of some means. I hope we can make our relationship profitable to all'
With practiced ease, Korvane covered his surprise that the alien spoke the High Gothic tongue so perfectly, replying, 'That is so, and I share your hope'
'Good! Droon clapped his hands once and stood from his throne, descending the steps to stand beside Korvane and the alien. 'I believe then, we can all go into this venture boldly, with common purpose.
'Indeed' replied the alien. 'The forces of the tau stand beside you, ready to aid you in casting off the shackles of oppression. You agree to the price for our aid?
Korvane felt a sudden dread at the alien's tone, and looked to Droon as the Imperial Commander gave his answer. 'I agree to your price, Por'o'Sar.
Korvane felt the urge to interrupt, to demand to know what Droon had agreed to pay in return for the services of these aliens. His courtly training asserted itself however, and he maintained his outward calm, despite the rising doubts he felt within.
'Good. the alien said. 'Then I, Por'o'Sar, Envoy of the Council of the Highest, Nexus of the Third Sun, Voice of Kari'La, pledge to you, Droon, of Arris Epsilon, called Epsil'ye'Kal, the friendship and alliance of the tau, in this time of adversity' The alien produced from his voluminous robes a pendant, a round icon of a substance unfamiliar to Korvane. Droon lowered his head as the envoy lifted the pendant over it.
'And by your words and your deeds, do you pledge your world and your people, for now and for all time, to the service of the tau empire?
The court filled with a deafening silence. Korvane fought to remain outwardly unmoved, despite the fact that grand treason was unfolding before him, the likes of which he had never before witnessed. He realised that he too was right at the heart of it, his immediate future, as well as that of the Arcadius, entirely reliant on what occurred here, today.
'I do so pledge' replied Droon, the alien lowering the pendant over his head. The former Imperial Commander raised his head once more and looked around him, the expression in his eyes suggesting that he was viewing his court and his subjects with entirely new eyes.
He looked directly at Korvane. 'Today, history is written. No longer will Arris Epsilon — Epsil'ye'Kal' the alien nodded slowly, 'live as some long-forgotten orphan, at the mercy of a hostile universe and an uncaring Imperium. No. This day, we take our place alongside our friends the tau, with whose aid we shall settle our debt of honour with Mundus Chasmata, for all time'
Mercenaries indeed, thought Korvane, the price for whose service was the casting off of ten thousand-year old vows. Droon had bought the service of the tau at a terrible, unthinkable price: secession from the Imperium of Man. The Imperium would hear of this, Korvane knew, no matter that it might take years for retribution to come. Come it would, of that he was sure, for the wages of such treachery could only ever be death.
However, that might not occur for some time, Korvane realised, so what of the here and the now? His agreement with Droon still stood, despite the fact that Droon himself had changed loyalties. Can I really aid this man and his xenos allies… masters… in his attack on Mundus Chasmata? he wondered. Can I afford not to?
The brief ceremony complete, Droon and the alien envoy now turned towards him as one, the Imperial Commander addressing him. 'Korvane, you will join us, and pledge the service of the Arcadius to the' he looked to the alien, and then back at Korvane, 'to the greater good?
Damn them, thought Korva
ne. They don't just want my help in the attack on Chasmata. They want me to revoke my loyalty to the Imperium.
CHAPTER TWELVE
'All stop! Lucian ordered, his bridge a hive of activity as servitors responded to orders and human bridge crew relayed them to the other decks.
'All stop, aye. called back Helmsman Raldi, 'holding station at one, one ten.
'Well enough, helm. responded Lucian, leaning forwards in his command throne. 'I want total surprise, or so help me I'll void every last one of you out of the sub-space crap-per. Clear?
Those of the deck crew capable of comprehending Lucian's threat nodded, Lucian heartened to see the terror writ across their faces. Good, he thought. I mean it, too.
Lucian studied the holograph, a green glow against the red of general quarters. The Oceanid had shadowed the alien vessels as they closed on Arris Epsilon, Lucian ordering the distance kept to a maximum lest their prey detect their presence. He now watched as they disgorged a number of landers to the surface. He had been faced with a stark choice, although there was only a single possible course of action. While Brielle was evidently yet to arrive in system, Korvane was down mere now, he knew, stuck in the middle of an alien invasion. Well, he wasn't prepared to let these alien swine take an Imperial world from under his nose, not while one of his own was down there at least.
'One hundred kilometres. called the helmsman.
Lucian leaned forwards still more, intent upon the formation of the alien vessels. He looked for any sign that they might have detected the Oceanid's presence, any sign at all that he might have revealed his hand too soon.
Still, the alien vessels wallowed in orbit, more interested, Lucian guessed, in what was going on down below than what was coming at them from behind. He'd never fall for such a trick, Lucian thought, not since that privateer attack at Krysla VII, at least.
'Comms, is everything set? Lucian addressed the servitor at station three, receiving a garbled burst of machine noise, accompanied by a stiff nod. 'Good, stand by.