“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 Korvane. 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.”
“Seventy-five,” called the helmsman, a note of tension creeping into his voice.
“Hold steady,” Lucian replied, referring as much to the vessel’s course as the helmsman’s nerves.
The range counter on the holograph counted down, and there was still no response from the alien fleet.
“Fifty kilometres.”
“Good.” Lucian stood, adjusting the holster at his belt. “Full power to secondary arrays.”
The red lighting dimmed for a moment as the secondary communications array bled off the power it needed to go from cold to fully ready in mere seconds. Lucian kept his eyes on the holograph, knowing that the aliens would pick up the power surge at any moment.
“Station three, open a—” the green holographic icons representing the alien vessels suddenly shifted, breaking formation as Lucian had known they would.
“Twenty-five,” called the helmsman.
“Station three, open it now!”
The bridge filled with howling static as the servitor at the communications station opened a broadcast on all channels on which the secondary array was capable of transmitting. This had better work, thought Lucian.
“Alien fleet,” he said, knowing that his words would be flooding the ether across every conceivable frequency. “Alien fleet, this is the Oceanid, flagship of the Arcadius Grand Fleet. Please respond immediately.”
The bridge address system howled with feedback as the communications servitor adjusted the gain, sweeping the channels for any sign of a response. Lucian had hoped to get as close as possible to Arris Epsilon before announcing his presence,
looking to gain any advantage possible over the aliens. He strained to filter out the random noise flooding the bridge, looking for any sign of an intelligible response. Of course, even if the aliens could, and did respond, there was no guarantee they would be able to communicate with one another. No matter, he thought for that was why he had been so careful to gain the upper hand. If they could not or would not talk, he would settle things the old-fashioned way.
A high-pitched wail burst forth, modulated by an arrhythmic pulse. The communications servitor opened its mouth and gave out a squeal, turning its head and looking straight at Lucian, almost accusingly, as it did so. The pulse continued for ten seconds or so, before the channel went completely silent, and a clear voice cut through.
“Oceanid,” the voice said in perfectly enunciated High Gothic. “This is the Water Caste starship Vior’la’Gal’Leath’Shas’el. Please state your intentions.”
Lucian stepped from his command throne, towards the forward viewing port. The distance between the Oceanid and the alien vessels was too great to afford visual recognition, but Lucian looked towards the area of space where he knew the aliens’ position lay as he replied.
“Alien vessel, my intentions depend entirely upon your own. Please stand down and allow me to approach.”
As he awaited an answer, Lucian looked sidelong at Raldi. The helmsman mouthed “twenty-five” back at him.
At their current speed, Lucian would expect the alien vessels to be visible in the next few minutes. Then, and only then, he would be able to gauge the relative odds.
“Oceanid, it is not in our nature to seek meaningless confrontation. You may approach, but be warned, our vessels are heavily armed, and will fire if threatened.”
Lucian chuckled to himself before replying, “Understood. Stand by.”
Indicating to the communications station with a finger drawn across his throat that the channel should be closed, Lucian turned back to the holograph. As the range shortened, the seven vessels took on more detail, the Oceanid’s cogitation banks providing details of size, mass and approximate power levels. The minutes passed, Lucian absorbing the data presented in the readouts. He looked to make an estimate of the alien vessels’ capabilities relative to the Oceanid’s, but the cogitators simply could not discern enough data, never having encountered this race, or their vessels, before.
“Coming up on ten kilometres, sir,” called Helmsman Raldi, Lucian looking to the viewing port once more.
The yellow-green globe of Arris Epsilon dominated the view, but Lucian could just make out the glittering constellation of lights that he knew to be the alien fleet. The seven vessels had dispersed their formation, entering a pattern from which they could afford one another mutual support were things to get ugly. It was no surprise to Lucian when he saw that the vessel that had answered his transmission, the “Vior’la something-or-other”, had taken position at the centre of the formation.
I would have done the same thing in their place, thought Lucian, his suspicions that he was not facing idiots confirmed.
Drawing closer to the alien fleet, the Oceanid passed the first of the alien vessels. He studied it as it slid silently by to starboard, its long, blocky form filling the smaller portholes as it passed. It was large, Lucian saw, of greater length than his own vessel, that much was immediately evident. It took the form of a long, central spine with a large drive section at the rear. Part way along the spine were mounted large, square structures, looking to Lucian like some form of modular cargo space, and at the fore a large prow featured what appeared to be a command tower bristling with antennae. Of most interest to Lucian were the long, rectangular barrelled weapons protruding from mountings just below the curved prow. These he had seen before.
Although few, Lucian judged these weapons capable of inflicting severe damage upon his vessel. In his judgement, the Oceanid could certainly take on several of these alien ships at once, and provided she got a good broadside on them could, in all likelihood, put them out of the fight. What Lucian took for cargo bays appeared to have been fitted at the expense of heavier or more numerous weapons batteries, and he guessed that other, up-gunned configurations existed.
Although larger than a manmade cruiser, Lucian judged these vessels of equivalent capability. Well, he thought, he’d taken on plenty of cruiser-sized enemies, and left blazing hulks dead in space behind him. If it came to it now, he’d do so again.
“Ordnance,” Lucian called to the servitor at station two. “I want all batteries made ready, but keep the ports closed until I give the order.” The servitor gave a mechanical buzz in acknowledgement, its multiple, implanted appendages moving across the fire control console as it relayed Lucian’s orders to the waiting weapons crews.
Another of the alien vessels was now by on the port side and Lucian noted that this one was configured in the same manner as the first. Emperor willing, he thought, all seven vessels would be of a similar, or even identical class.
“Closing on target,” called the helmsman, Lucian seeing that the vessel with which he had communicated now loomed in the centre of the viewing port. He grinned, admitting to himself that he lived for moments such as these, despite the seriousness of the situation.
“Well enough, helm. Bring her alongside and reduce to station keeping.” The alien flagship, for that was what Lucian took it to be, was prow on to the Oceanid, its fore-mounted weapons batteries facing towards Lucian’s vessel, but evidently not, yet, tracking her. The Oceanid’s drives growled as the helmsman reduced the ship’s velocity, a rattling vibration running through the deck as the alien vessel loomed to starboard.
“Number three again?” said Lucian in response to the juddering, grating sound. The helmsman nodded, though he did not turn to make eye contact with his master. “Keep an eye on her Mister Raldi. If she misbehaves now we’ll all be walking home.”
“Aye sir,” replied the helmsman, his right hand pulling back on a lever, coaxing power from the misbehaving drive, while the other kept the helm steady.
“Any second… there we are Mister Raldi, station keeping if you will.”
The Oceanid slowed to a near dead stop as she came alongside the alien vessel, the starboard portholes entirely filled with its slab-sided bulk. Lucian clasped his hands behind his back as he cleared his throat and then nodded to the communications servitor.
“Alien vessel, this is Oceanid. Please acknowledge this signal”
“Oceanid, Vior’la’Gal’Leath’Shas’el acknowledges. Please state your business.”
“My business,” Lucian smirked ever so slightly as he spoke, “is to receive your immediate and unconditional surrender, in the name of the Arcadius Grand Fleet and the Emperor of Man.” He turned and nodded to the servitor at the ordnance station, who activated the controls that would raise the weapons ports on the Oceanid’s flanks. He shoved to the back of his mind any doubts that the aliens would not fall for his bluff, counting on them not being able to take the risk that, as he had implied, his was the lead vessel of an incoming, and yet to be detected, fleet.
“Oceanid, please confirm your last transmission,” the reply came from the alien vessel. “Did you state that you expected to receive our surrender?”
Lucian’s smirk now turned into a dirty grin. He really did enjoy his work too much sometimes, he thought. “That is correct,” he replied. “I expect you to heave to, power down and prepare for boarding.” Lucian glanced across at the holograph, seeing that the outermost of the alien vessels were coming around, as he had expected they would.
“Do you surrender?” he asked.
A momentary delay, and then the terse reply, “No, Oceanid, we do not surrender.”
“I had a feeling,” replied Lucian, crossing to his command throne and sitting, “that you would say that.”
“Fire!”
The Oceanid’s starboard weapons banks opened fire as one, their mighty roar filling the ship, their report vibrating through the decks.
“Hard to starboard,
Mister Raldi, cross the T,” ordered Lucian without even looking to see what, if any damage the broadside had inflicted upon the alien vessel.
“Aye sir,” called back the helmsman, hauling on the wheel as he brought the Oceanid around.
“Damage?” called Lucian.
“Significant, sir,” the officer at the operations station called back in reply. Lucian glanced at the banks of screens all around his command throne, seeing that, indeed, the sucker punch of a broadside had inflicted fearsome damage upon the alien. The other vessel was listing to its port, thick, oily smoke billowing from its mid-section, flickering plasma fire lighting the clouds from within.
“Ordnance, prepare a second volley.”
Lucian watched as the view from the forward viewing port showed the alien ship’s drives to starboard. Wait, he steadied himself, sensing a kill if he timed the volley exactly right.
“Lined up sir!” Raldi called, struggling with the mighty wheel of the helm.
“Thank you, Mister Raldi,” replied Lucian, waiting one, two, three seconds more before ordering. “Starboard batteries, fire!”
The Oceanid was once more filled with the mighty roar of the cannons’ discharge. This time, Lucian watched the other ship as the broadside slammed into its rear section. A handful of the projectiles exploded prematurely as they were swallowed in the superheated wake of the vessel’s vast engines, but the majority struck the superstructure, smashing through the metres-thick armoured engine casings and exploding deep within.
For a moment, the two vessels continued to glide past one another, the Oceanid having crossed the T and carried on past. Then, as Lucian watched, the alien ship’s drive section was rent asunder as a mighty split appeared along its length, blinding white, atomic fire lancing out of the crack. A second later the entire drive section came away from the spine connecting it to the bulk of the vessel, jettisoned, Lucian judged, by the ship’s captain in a last ditch effort to save his crew.
[Rogue Trader 01] - Rogue Star Page 19