Shadowbreaker - Steve Parker

by Warhammer 40K

  He felt a gentle thirst rise in him.

  They would finish soon, provided the humans didn’t needlessly prolong things as they tended to do. Even this small assembly, unified in purpose, seemed to feel a constant need to compete with each other, currying favour and jostling for status.

  Coldwave clicked his tongue several times, a t’au expression conveying both exasperation and disdain.

  It’s a wonder they ever cooperated long enough to build their Imperium.

  He heard movement behind him. Rahin. He knew it was the ISF’s commanding officer by scent. The man joined him at the railing, standing a good head taller than his t’au superior.

  ‘News?’ asked Coldwave.

  ‘Nothing of the rebels. A couple of disturbances in the markets.’

  ‘The usual trouble, I assume.’

  Rahin nodded. ‘Pricing disputes that turned violent. Nothing of any real note.’

  Such things never happened among the t’au. ‘Mutual benefit and the benefit of all’ was the coda by which they lived. Negotiations never degenerated into physical attack. The humans were like unruly children in so many ways, and yet their race was far older than his own. How had they learned so little in all that time?

  He glanced at Rahin and noted the fondness he felt. The gue’la soldier had always been good company, a trusted lieutenant.

  I’m too harsh on them, he thought. I cannot judge all by the example of some. There are good men, good soldiers among them who truly seek to understand the T’au’va and what it means to serve it. They have embraced it as best they can. Our empire is their empire, and they will learn to serve it better in time.

  It could not be easy for them. The gue’la seemed constantly to struggle with their ancient ape nature.

  As we struggled with our own before the Auns appeared.

  Perhaps the humans should be pitied. Their race had existed for so long without any real icons of enlightenment to save them and lead them. What choice but to cling to their strange corpse-god of ten thousand years ago and the dark, brutal creed that had grown from his legend?

  What might the humans have become if only they had been blessed as we were?

  It was a sorrowful thought. Things might have been so different.

  One of the trade representatives below gestured to emphasise a point, catching Coldwave’s eye and returning his attention to the moment.

  There was always so much unnecessary movement when humans talked, as if they had to act out every sentence for it to be heard. At least the meeting was breaking up now.

  The commander watched Aun’dzi rise from the table, as tall as the tallest of the humans, and offer the group his best approximation of a human smile. He tilted his head and thanked them for their attendance. He would summon Coldwave and Rahin the moment the delegation and water caste members were gone.

  Coldwave was abruptly conscious of the scent traces he was exuding. It would be unseemly for the Ethereal’s most trusted military adviser and force commander to present himself while his pores still communicated anything but calm confidence and self-control.

  ‘We will be called momentarily, major,’ he said, using Rahin’s ISF rank. ‘A few seconds alone, if you please, to gather my thoughts.’

  ‘I will await you at the bottom of the stair, commander,’ said Rahin.

  He bowed briefly and moved off. Coldwave listened to him descend, then slowed his breathing and shifted his hands through a series of slow, precise gestures.

  The Vas’ra’gan – the seventeen stations of inner calm. He had been turning to it a lot recently, yet another indicator of just how uncomfortable he was with the joint project at Na’a’Vashak.

  A soldier ought to have nothing to do with such horrors.

  If there had been any other choice…

  He shook it off and refocused on the seventeen stations.

  The Vas’ra’gan began to take effect, stilling the waters of his mind, chasing his troubles to the edge like ripples on a pond.

  Once the last of the movements was complete, he dropped his hands to his side and breathed normally again. For confirmation, he stroked his jawline with a fingertip and lifted it to the olfactory slit in his forehead.

  Good. His scent no longer betrayed any angst. It was less sharp, more earthy, speaking of calm readiness, of presence in the moment.

  Below, the water caste representatives and the gaudily dressed figures of the human delegation drifted through the arches in the garden’s south wall and disappeared from view. Aun’dzi, regal and serene, watched them leave, then turned his gaze up at the gallery where Coldwave stood.

  The Ethereal raised his hands in front of his chest, fingers upwards, palms facing each other a few inches apart. An invitation to join him, as gentle and exquisitely polite as always. He could have commanded Coldwave’s obedience in the roughest manner possible and still caused no offence. The Aun was the Aun. He would have been obeyed without hesitation or rancour or resentment no matter his tone or gesture, no matter the register of his voice.

  All the Ethereals Coldwave had ever met shared the same gift. They were born to lead. They inspired. They uplifted. Their essence was of the mirror-smooth lake at sunrise, or of the cool evening breeze that soothes the hunter’s weariness and lifts his heart on a long march home.

  They have given us everything, he thought, asked nothing for themselves, and have brought us through three expansions, each greater than the last. There is no limit to what we might achieve under their guidance. They are everything to the future of our people.

  And yet some could not see it. Would not. How was it that Farsight, for one, could have been so blind? A tragedy that still had never been satisfactorily explained. And here on Tychonis, the number of dissidents among his own people grew with every passing year. The prison cells at Na’a’Vashak were filled, no shortage of subjects for the damned woman’s procedures, because more and more t’au were turning from the light, and he was at a loss to explain it.

  From the gallery, he bowed to the Aun, right hand over his heart and the fingers of his left hand pressed to his forehead.

  Profound respect. Obedience. Love.

  Then he turned from the rail and descended the cool, shadowed steps to the garden below. Rahin fell into step silently behind him.

  It was time to bask in the presence and attention of the Aun.

  If only the things of which they must speak were not so horrific…

  Greetings. Formal and sincere. It always began with greetings.

  Form and propriety were important to the t’au. Powerfully so.

  ‘Uniter,’ said Coldwave. ‘Beacon of Truth. Lighter of the Way, look down upon me, forgive my unworthiness, grant me the wisdom to put aside the self for the betterment of the whole.’

  The words were almost as old as the stories of the Ethereals’ first emergence, and within them they contained the essence of the T’au’va and the guidance that had brought unity where bloodshed had reigned.

  The willowy, beatific figure standing before Coldwave inclined its head and smiled in open affection. ‘Skilled Hunter, Beloved Protector, True Adherent of the Way, let us stand as equals. We are fingers on the same hand. Let us speak as such, without reserve, for the benefit of all.’

  Coldwave, as always on hearing these words, suppressed a rush of shame. They were uttered with such feeling, every single time. The Aun seemed incapable of token pleasantry. He meant exactly what he said, and he said exactly what he meant. And yet, Coldwave could never conceive of himself as equal to one such as this. Only another Ethereal could even come close.

  He knew the scent from his pores gave such thoughts away. Aun’dzi would smell it. He always did, and always he had the grace not to mention it, as if the scent were so weak as to pass beneath his notice. Coldwave almost wished the ancient leader would dispense with the traditional response and
assert his status more fully, as a member of the fire caste would, as he himself would with any soldier of lesser rank, but the Auns had their own forms, their own ways, and that would not change.

  Aun’dzi, again showing grace, moved swiftly past his subordinate’s discomfort and acknowledged Rahin with equal warmth. ‘How fares the captain today?’ he said in perfect, unaccented Uhrzi. ‘He looks well as always.’

  Rahin bowed low. ‘The better for seeing you in fine health, Uniter.’

  Aun-dzi tilted his head in thanks and returned his attention to Coldwave. ‘You have come to take more of the rauk’na south. I know how deeply it troubles you. Does the project really require so many?’

  The rauk’na. The ungiving. The self-serving. The t’au who were not t’au.

  Coldwave broke the Aun’s gaze. ‘Much as it sickens me, more are needed. Speed in doing this thing could save many loyal lives. Error margins are large, but there has been progress. I would see this nightmare ended quickly and our business with the woman over.’

  ‘She continues to disturb you,’ observed the Aun.

  ‘She is not like others of her kind,’ said Coldwave. ‘She is a far more dangerous animal, and she withholds much. Clever names aside, Uniter, truly we treat with a two-tongued serpent. Would that we had never found her. In truth, I wonder if we found her at all. I suspect she contrived all of it.’

  ‘And you, captain?’ asked the Aun of Rahin. ‘What are your thoughts?’

  ‘I believe as the commander does, Uniter. This woman has an agenda I can’t rightly guess. And I fear that the presence of Space Marines on Tychonis, should word get out, would tip a heavy percentage of marginals over to the rebel cause. Their image cannot be separated from that of the God-Emperor. They must be kept at the Tower, away from the eyes of the people.’

  Coldwave clacked his teeth in agreement with his subordinate.

  ‘Wise counsel, major,’ said the Aun. ‘For now, then, I release you to return to your duties. You have much to do before returning south.’

  ‘My gratitude, Uniter. There is never enough time. I go to serve.’ Rahin bowed, once to each of the t’au, and left to attend to other duties.

  The two aliens watched him go.

  ‘He has witnessed the procedures first-hand?’ asked the Aun.

  ‘He has.’

  ‘How did he react?’

  ‘As I did, but he sees the need. He knows the shadow of the Y’he will fall over this world eventually. Probably within his own lifetime.’

  ‘Such a burden I have placed upon you. In due course, it will be shifted to the Aun’T’au’resha, but we cannot present to the High Council too early. If the woman is right, if her project bears the fruit she promises, there will be much darker business to follow. Rauk’na will be needed from all across the empire. At that point, and that point only, we can make our work here known. Until then, we must trust that we do what is in the best interests of all.’

  ‘I believe, Uniter. I see no other choice. If the woman is right, we will be called saviours. If she is wrong, then we are wrong. And history will call us monsters.’

  The Aun nodded solemnly, then gestured for Coldwave to sit. As always, Coldwave would not do so until the Ethereal seated himself. Aun’dzi lowered himself gracefully into the chair at the head of the table.

  A young water caste acolyte appeared from the left almost at once, bringing fresh goblets, a tall jug and a plate of berries carefully aged and garnished with a selection of cultivated moulds. The smells made Coldwave’s mouth water. He waited for Aun’dzi to ask him to pour, as was proper.

  After each had sipped from their goblets, Aun’dzi said, ‘The price of the woman’s aid still puzzles me greatly. She must have a very powerful reason to request complete freedom of movement within t’au space.’

  ‘She has asked for access to data regarding territory our people lost to the Y’he. I have not granted it, but we might learn more by giving her access and observing her searches. Whatever she is looking for must be incredibly important to the Imperium. She would never have brought the project to us, otherwise.’

  ‘Give her access and watch her,’ said Aun’dzi.

  Coldwave bowed. The woman could be stopped later if need be.

  ‘We must conclude matters at the Tower soon,’ said the Aun. ‘The emptying of the city prisons has been well noted now. Questions are being asked. And the rauk’na are not a limitless resource. However selfish and misaligned they may be, they are still kin by blood.’

  ‘As you say, Uniter, but if any must pay the price, let it be those who have rejected the Greater Good, who would kill or steal from their own brothers and sisters for gain, not loyal fire warriors ready to lay down their lives by noble choice. Enough of us have died fighting the Y’he while the rauk’na served their own interests.’

  Aun’dzi made a gesture, palms together, long fingers intertwined – an old salute to the fire caste who had died for their people and those that were yet to die in the times ahead.

  ‘As you say. Let the rauk’na serve the T’au’va with their deaths, since they will not serve it with their lives. Our loyal fire warriors must be saved. We lose too many and the number grows each year. But we may still pity the rauk’na. I believe their all-consuming self-interest is a kind of illness, not a choice.’

  Coldwave processed that, searching his feelings for a moment. ‘Pity is not hard to come by as I watch them processed in the laboratory. The infection procedure… Uniter, I am thankful you need not see it yourself. That we drug them first is little consolation. Even in an altered state, they know true horror when they look into its savage, hungry eyes.’

  The Aun raised his face to the sky and said, ‘We did not, either of us, ask for this. Fate brought us to this day. Fate decreed that this onerous task should fall to us, and us alone. But we are equal to it. We will do what must be done. Give the woman all she asks for, but continue to monitor her every breath. The earth caste must glean all they can from her while she still believes she can manipulate us. When the moment comes that we no longer need her, we will decide then whether she is to live or die. Until then, make no move against her.’

  Coldwave dipped his chin. ‘My life for the T’au’va. I will not falter.’

  ‘When will you return south?’

  ‘I meet with Shas’el Kayan before dusk to discuss new security operations. Once I am satisfied with her proposals, I will set out again for the south.’

  ‘She does a fine job in your absence. You trained her well. I will repeal the emergency powers of the security forces in three days. We cannot allow the widening of the divide that has opened between our people and the gue’la. Only in unity does true strength flourish. The gue’la have such great potential as a people, but there is so much they must unlearn first. Truly, of all the integrated peoples, they are the most difficult and yet could offer so much to the T’au’va. The universe does seem to revel in such dichotomies.’

  The Aun made a low trilling sound in the back of his throat – mild laughter. It was a warm, rich sound, and the scent molecules he exuded were just as pleasant. Coldwave found himself soothed. It was true. The humans were a tangled mess of contradictions and complexes. And yet, there was something compelling about them. The two races had so much to offer each other. If only the human race as a whole would put aside their ignorant, reactionary ways and their terrible, suicidal lust for conflict. If they could only see with fresh eyes, the fruits of cooperation could be ripe and sweet.

  Aun’dzi continued. ‘I have ordered an end to the curfews. A sense of normalcy must return to the capital. We must show faith in the majority. Measured against our temperance, the acts of the rebels will appear all the more extreme, and more repulsive for that.’

  ‘There are still several significant insurgent cells active in the city,’ Coldwave cautioned, ‘not counting those we have so far been able to moni
tor. The arms shipments we uncovered recently hint at the likelihood of many more. It is this very district I fear for most. If they do strike again, it will likely be at our structures of governance, and at you above all. Their failure in hitting military targets’ – and here, Coldwave was speaking of the rocket attack on his own transport – ‘will have convinced them to shift their focus. Were I in their place, it is what I would do. And they may yet have weapons of more potency which they have been saving for just such an assault.’

  Aun’dzi steepled his long blue-grey fingers and gazed at the bright, polished surface of the stone table. ‘The insurgents in the cities are of lesser concern to me right now than the enclaves in the Drowned Lands. The Speaker of the Sands is no fool. The presence of the woman and her bodyguard on this world will not slip his notice for long. He may even know already. The timing of the attack on your transport was not a coincidence, I wager. Discontent is like a cancer. Untreated, it will grow. Whatever it takes to remove it, that is what we must do. A sign of trust, a show of temperance. It is the only way.’

  The sun was on its way west now. The shadows in the garden had begun to lengthen as the day shifted into mid-afternoon.

  ‘I have monopolised your time overlong.’ The Aun gestured at the berries before them. ‘But enjoy these with me and let us speak of less burdensome things for a while before you go.’

  So they did. As always, Coldwave felt tremendous peace and honour in those moments. Dark thoughts of his current duties fell away for a time.

  All too soon, however, his visit with the Aun was up. The hour of his briefings with his sub-commanders in the city drew near.

  At Aun’dzi’s request, Coldwave escorted the Ethereal through the gardens to the Chambers of Contemplation. At the arched entrance they stopped.

  ‘You bear such a terrible weight on all our behalf, old friend. Would that I could take more of it upon myself. The fire caste, as ever, is the rock of our people, and the best hope for our future. Go with my gratitude now.’