by Phil Kelly
His heart beat faster at the sight. Here was the key.
‘Commander Brightsword,’ blipped O’Shoh, ‘cut us a path through that walking wall of junk, if you can.’
‘If I can?’ said his fellow commander. ‘Observe, old one, and learn how a fusion blaster is best employed.’
A moment later, the young warrior shot past, his battlesuit all but horizontal in its flight. He touched down a spear’s throw from the nearest of the lumbering machines. Crouching with his fusion blasters levelled, he boosted up and backwards, his guns spitting at full discharge. As he ripped the blasters upwards, blinding white energies carved through the ugly hulk’s torso. With a great clanking crash, the walker fell apart. Blood steamed from the ruined pilot within.
Revealed by the gutted machine’s fall was an oil-streaked ork elder holding a gun as large as a full-grown tau. A buzzing contraption of coils and wires was strapped to the creature’s broad back. Yet it was the greenskin stomping past the ork mechanic that demanded O’Shoh’s attention.
The ork warboss was huge, not much smaller than the barrel-chested walker it had been using for cover. Its scarred and muscle-roped arms were encased in thick metal armatures, each tipped with huge snipping shears. Two tall poles jutted from its back, hung with a variety of colourful, grille-snouted helms. The ork’s metallic legs wheezed steam as it charged.
Brightsword swooped down once more, the muzzles of his fusion blasters shimmering. He levelled a double blast at the charging monster. There was a flash of light so bright that O’Shoh’s blacksun filter cut in, accompanied a microdec later by a deafening thunderclap. According to his suit’s readouts, the fusion blast had been dissipated completely.
Then the cybernetic beast hit Brightsword with the force of a charging bull. One of the ork’s pincer-fists lashed out, grabbing the young warrior’s suit by the leg and shearing it off with a hiss of pistons. The young commander reared back, repulsor jump jets flaring, but the warboss already had its other arm wrapped around his battlesuit’s waist. Though Brightsword lifted the thing off the ground, he could not bring his guns to bear. Neither could he break the ork’s grip.
The greenskin horde roared its approval as their leader slammed the limb it had shorn from Brightsword’s battlesuit into his jetpack intake. The ork roared in alien joy even as fat blue sparks flew into its face. It sank its metal jaws deep into the battlesuit’s plexus hatch, ripping it free in a confusion of wires. O’Shoh’s throat tightened as he saw a flash of Brightsword’s blood glinting in the Arkunashan sun.
Eye-flicking a masking pattern, O’Shoh fired. His plasma rifle stitched a shot through the fizzing cascade of sparks where Brightsword’s leg had been moments before, cutting the beast’s pincer-arm off at the shoulder. As the ork dropped down into the rust, O’Shoh dived in low. He slid underneath Brightsword’s suit like a Fio’taun scree-rider. Backhanding the ork warlord’s vile bulk with his disc-shield generator, he released a generous pulse of energy right at the moment of impact.
The ork’s body flew backwards, flailing into the whirring saws of the walkers closing in behind. The creature juddered apart in sprays of red-black blood.
‘Brightsword,’ said O’Shoh, ‘we are leaving. But not empty-handed.’
Hooking the end of his plasma rifle into the opened ribcage of a fallen ork leader, O’Shoh dug his battlesuit’s heels into the rust, braced his shoulders against Brightsword’s hovering bulk, and boosted both tau and ork into the air. As his jetpack struggled to bear them upwards, an ork walker’s rotary saw swung for him. He pivoted, and it missed him by a finger’s width.
Trauma indicators flashed urgently as bullets hammered into O’Shoh from the horde below. The commander clamped his shield arm around his stricken young comrade and pushed his thrust/vector suite to maximum. The doppelganger XV8 projected above his damage control suite pulsed in protest as the ork horde fired everything they had at him.
Just as O’Shoh thought his suit would come apart, Sha’vastos swept past, his flamer melting the eyes from the brutes glaring up at them. A moment later, an ork rocket careened into the Arkunashan commander’s hip, sending him spinning away on a trail of smoke.
‘Heavy elements, buy us time!’ shouted O’Shoh.
The ork front line came apart in a profusion of explosions, but it made little difference. The greenskin horde was charging the transit tunnels, its warriors kicking through the carefully stacked rubble as drill-armed walkers demolished those wall sections that still remained intact.
O’Shoh tucked the ork corpse he had taken in the crook of his arm and carried Brightsword’s ruined suit to a safer altitude. Their battlesuits rose towards the sun, O’Shoh eye-flicking new attack vectors for his cadre even as he fled.
Below him, the sea of orks stretched out towards the horizon. Every acre of the northern dunes was covered with bellowing, greenskinned monsters. Thick pillars of smoke reached towards the sky by the dozen, each marking a precision kill. Yet as O’Shoh overlaid footage of the initial surge against the current situation, his blood burned like acid in his veins.
The momentum of the ork assault had not been stalled.
It had not even been slowed.
‘Abandon phase two,’ O’Shoh transmitted across the cadre-net. ‘I repeat, abandon assassination mission and begin withdrawal. The day is lost.’
5-0
The Dome of Infinite Horizons, Bio-dome 1-1, North Hex, Arkunasha
Head hung, O’Shoh stood in the Dome of Infinite Horizons’s shallow amphitheatre. Other than the slight tang of sweat from those mustered from the battle, it smelt of sterility and abandonment. The vast majority of its counsel thrones were empty. Only the innermost circle was occupied; four of the five members necessary for a full elemental council were present, along with the same number again of fire caste officers. Some were old allies of O’Shoh’s. Some, he was troubled to note, were anything but.
With the ork hordes still roaring outside the perimeter walls, none among the fire caste were keen to debate their failures. Yet no less a person than Aun’Tal had summoned them in the wake of the battle, and an ethereal’s wishes could not be denied.
Every member of the emergency council stood and dipped his head as the ethereal finally appeared in the antechamber. O’Shoh felt his breath grow shallow and his heart beat faster in the presence of such majesty. He cast his eyes down, but could hear the faint shuffle of the robed figure descending the wide stairs to the amphitheatre’s inner throne, along with the low hum of the shield drone hovering close behind.
‘Greetings in the name of the Tau’va,’ said Aun’Tal. ‘You may sit and raise your eyes.’
O’Shoh looked up to see the ethereal with his hands out wide in a gesture of welcome, his gaze falling upon the council one by one. When it came to his turn, O’Shoh felt an electric jolt as Aun’Tal’s profoundly black eyes bored into his own. The shame of failure burned within him.
‘Let the circle commence,’ said the ethereal gently, settling into his high-backed throne. ‘Given the proximity of the foe, I think it wise to dispense with full protocol. Commander Sha’vastos, please initiate proceedings immediately.’
‘Of course,’ said Sha’vastos, standing up and making a formal bow that only emphasised his now-dishevelled, sweat-stained dress uniform. ‘It is my contention that the orks have been roused by the arrival of our comrades from Vior’la, and that the cull of their leader caste was ineffective due to the number of foes present.’
He paused, straightening his old-style dress tunic as best he could. ‘I believe the failure does not lie with the Code of Fire,’ he continued. ‘Either there are simply too many of them to be broken by assassination tactics, or there is a force uniting them we do not understand. I am sure the wisdom of Puretide will see us triumph in the end.’
The Arkunashan officer wrapped his right hand over his clenched left fist in the gesture of comple
tion. Though it implied there was no more to say, O’Shoh detected a dangerous uncertainty in Sha’vastos’s stance.
‘I am Tutor Sha’kan Thas,’ said the fire caste elder to his right, standing and turning to meet the gaze of each delegate in turn. ‘Well known to the defenders of Arkunasha, and also to Commander Shoh of Vior’la.’ At this, the hard-faced old warrior cast a baleful glance towards O’Shoh. ‘I believe the newcomers acted rashly. Their ostentatious descent has drawn the beast to our door once more. They have not only endangered the lives of those in this bio-dome, but agitated those ork forces besieging the outlying settlements. We still do not understand the enemy, nor do we truly control the planet upon which we fight. I press for censure.’
He sat down once more, his expression cold.
‘I am Shas’vre Ob’lotai of Vior’la,’ said O’Shoh’s old mentor, rising slowly. His deep bass voice filled the amphitheatre. ‘Nothing worthwhile was ever accomplished quickly. We must persevere with phase two if we are to see this course through.’
‘Phase two did not work, Ob’lotai!’ blurted O’Shoh.
A moment of silence passed, and O’Shoh felt his face darkening as all eyes turned towards him. All but those of his old mentor; instead, the big shas’vre looked downcast, the domed peak of his head sinking amongst the foothills of his shoulders.
‘I am Shas’o Brightsword of Sa’cea,’ said the young commander to Ob’lotai’s right. He winced a little as the bandages across his torso pulled tight; the ork warboss’s metal jaw had bitten deep. ‘Respectfully, Shas’vre Ob’lotai, I must also disagree with your assessment.’
O’Shoh gritted his teeth. It was just like Brightsword to worsen the situation whilst attempting to alleviate it.
‘The situation is not as we thought, esteemed one,’ Brightsword continued quietly. ‘The enemy we face is not the bull, but more the Dal’ythan water hydra – cut off one head, and another grows in its place. There will always be those in their ranks larger than the others. We must find another path to victory.’
O’Shoh raised his eyes in surprise. In the centre of the amphitheatre, Aun’Tal nodded sagely.
‘Wise counsel, Commander Brightsword,’ said the ethereal. He gestured towards a robed ambassador of the water caste. ‘Next element.’
‘I am Por’o Kais of Dal’yth. Perhaps the only tau here who has not only encountered a Dal’ythan water hydra, but also eaten it afterwards.’
A few solemn expressions lightened at the ambassador’s mellifluous tones. Though O’Shoh doubted the elderly tau could overcome a kroothawk, let alone a hydra, he was grateful for the shift of focus nonetheless.
‘Commander Brightsword is quite correct,’ continued Por’o Kais. ‘The orks are held at bay by our perimeter walls for now, but for how long? We seek to break the beast as the cliff breaks the sea, but in the end, does the rock not crumble before the tide? We must alter its course. Divert its violence so that it flows elsewhere. This war cannot be won with direct confrontation. Even O’Shoh has said as much.’
At this, the water caste elder raised his elaborator disc. A holographic image of a similarly attired magister appeared like a phantom, ten shimmering fire warriors standing to attention nearby. The magister was treating with four heavy-set ork chieftains in the lee of a crude asteroid fortress. The largest of their number was a cybernetic terror, its gangling arms ending in jagged rotary saws.
‘This is footage from an unauthorised parley,’ continued Por’o Kais. ‘Only the drone that delivered it survived. The rest of the initiative was lost.’
‘What initiative?’ Sha’vastos started out of his chair, his expression furious. ‘Is that Shas’ui Lhoro and his team?’
‘Indeed. Needless to say, Por’vre Vral would be disciplined harshly for dragging the fire caste into his ambitious ploy,’ said Por’o Kais sadly, ‘had he not already given his life in the name of the Greater Good.’
‘And what purpose did the sacrifice of Lhoro’s team achieve?’ asked Sha’vastos. Hot anger boiled under his icy formality.
‘Consider this cyborg monstrosity,’ said Por’o Kais, making a languid gesture towards the elaborator disc’s holographic image. ‘Note the deference in which he is held by his fellow brutes. Inadvertently, I believe Por’vre Vral identified the true warlord behind the ork invasion. According to my cross-referencing, the leader-beast is the largest of all greenskins encountered upon Arkunasha thus far. His name roughly translates as “Tooth Jaw”. ’
O’Shoh memorised everything he could of the hulking cyborg as the orks in the footage rushed towards the camera, jaws agape. There was a blinding flash, and the drone’s footage cut out.
‘That is all we have,’ concluded Por’o Kais.
‘It is information hard won, true enough,’ said Aun’Tal. ‘Yet the negotiation cadre gave their lives in the name of the Tau’va. They were not wasted.’ He turned to the council’s air caste representative, extending a hand of invitation. ‘Next element.’
‘I am Kor’o Li’mau Teng, of the orbital city Li’mau,’ wheezed the air caste admiral, unfolding himself from his counsel throne. The veteran tau stood shakily, his attenuated pilot’s physique ill accustomed to normal gravity.
‘Though my pilots are collaborating with Arkunasha’s own, and though the drone net is now at twice its usual processing power, the skies are still infested with ork craft. Furthermore, the unpredictability of these “ghost storms” is hampering–’
‘They are storms, nothing more,’ interrupted Aun’Tal, his sharp tone cutting like a knife across Li’mau Teng’s testimony.
‘I offer contrition, noble Aun’Tal,’ blurted the admiral, his eyes cast down.
Aun’Tal stared hard, his gaze unwavering.
‘You may continue, Li’mau Teng.’
‘My thanks, ethereal master. Our pilots have obtained a great deal of data, and are currently cross-referencing it with those of the earth caste, though our analysis is incomplete. That is all.’ The venerable admiral made the motion of cupped hands, implying bounty yet to be passed on.
‘Next element,’ said Aun’Tal, looking pointedly at the squat young earth caste delegate opposite.
‘Fio’el Vesa, first engineer of the equatorial bio-domes,’ said the young scientist, standing awkwardly under the ethereal’s gaze. Even at his full height, he was a stocky stump next to the slender willow of Admiral Li’mau Teng. ‘Our latest drone net findings show we are outnumbered,’ El’Vesa said, ‘by approximately three hundred and ninety-nine to one.’
An uncomfortable silence passed. O’Shoh shifted in his seat.
‘Since our last survey,’ continued El’Vesa, oblivious to the tension around him, ‘the number of orks present upon Arkunasha has increased significantly. Furthermore, the outlying ork warbands are no longer functionally dormant. An estimated thirty-two per cent of their number are converging upon our position as we speak.’
The amphitheatre was suddenly in uproar, half the delegates getting to their feet at once.
‘How can this be? How can the numbers still be increasing?’ protested Sha’vastos. ‘We just killed thousands of the damned things!’
‘The newcomers have stirred them up,’ spat Tutor Sha’kan’thas, fixing O’Shoh with a venomous glare. ‘Always overconfident! Always arrogant!’
‘It cannot be done, then,’ said Por’o Kais, his expression one of profound sadness. ‘We must concede Arkunasha to the beast.’
‘Enough,’ said Aun’Tal. The word was spoken quietly, but all those gathered fell silent. ‘O’Shoh, by triggering the ork attack on this facility and failing to stop it you have placed us all in great danger. You have failed the Tau’va this day. Hence you are no longer part of this caste council.’
A void opened inside O’Shoh’s soul as the ethereal continued.
‘You and your commanders will depart this place at the earliest opportuni
ty, relocating your cadres to the command disc Constellation of Hopes. There you will mount a mobile operation that draws as many orks from this installation as possible. Be about your exile within the cycle.’
O’Shoh made a curt salute, the bile of disgrace burning inside him.
‘El’Vesa,’ continued Aun’Tal, ‘you will locate the physical weaknesses of the orks. They must have them. Por’o Kais, you will determine their psychological flaws. Once your findings are corroborated and optimised, you will disperse them to Commander Shoh and Admiral Teng without delay. This elemental council will find the key to these creatures’ defeat before Arkunasha succumbs to starvation. Is that clear?’
As one, the council members interlocked their fingers in the sign of the Tau’va.
‘Good,’ said Aun’Tal. ‘Disperse immediately.’
The tau elders filed out, each anxious to attend to his own business.
O’Shoh was the first to leave. As he strode down the curved white corridor, his skin glowed with shame. Part of him longed to head straight for his quarters, to rally and to meditate until he found a measure of peace. Then, like a dawn, inspiration rose inside him.
The commander slowed, looked around for a moment, and then doubled back down the corridor towards the earth caste’s medical facilities. Now was not the time for solitude, not with so many lives at stake. He had agreed to work together as necessary with the other castes, after all – and there remained the matter of the ork cadaver he had recovered from the battle.
A fierce defiance flickered in O’Shoh’s heart. They would beat these beasts yet.
Bio-dome 31-8, Arkunasha
Mentor Y’eln awoke with a start, her blanket gathered up around her neck like a constricting snake. She clawed it away, eyes wide, but managed to keep from crying out. Dreams of crippling famine and brutality still lingered in her mind. Y’eln tried to settle, mentally reciting the meditations of the teacher. Still her soul would not be at peace. Something was wrong.