by Gav Thorpe
‘Without the information we were given by De’vaque, we would not have enjoyed our recent success. The safe harbour he provides at Daethronin shields us from the attention of Imperial Navy patrols, and the targets he has guided us to have been weakly protected.’
‘Yes, it is all very safe, isn’t it?’ Khiadysis looked at Maensith. ‘Safe and sound, nice and friendly. These are not concepts that are common amongst my people. We take what we want, without the permission of others. You were a hound, Yrithain, hunting the game of the humans. De’vaque feared you and has managed to leash you with these agreements and pacts. Now you hunt the prey he chooses, and you have forgotten what it was like to run free.’
Yrithain did not argue, but his face was a war of emotions as he sought to counter what the hierarch had said, but knew that there was truth to the accusation. Instead, the prince-commander turned his anger on Maensith.
‘I brought you into my plans, offered you a part to play and a share of the spoils, and this is how you repay me?’
‘It was Khiadysis Hierarch that brought me into the raid,’ Maensith replied calmly, meeting Yrithain’s accusing glare. ‘I do not owe you any loyalty.’
‘And so you support this half-witted scheme to attack Daethronin? You think to turn the tables on my ally?’
‘I know nothing of your allies, or of Daethronin,’ said Maensith. ‘Khiadysis Hierarch simply asked for a tribute from me as a sign of my gratitude.’
‘Tribute?’ Yrithain almost spat the word, and Aradryan empathised with him. Handing over the prisoners they had taken to the hierarch was tantamount to paying their own ransom. Aradryan kept his lips tightly sealed, however, wishing to show no discord with his captain.
The argument continued, to little end, and Aradryan started to entertain different thoughts to those he had enjoyed before, namely whether he had been right to join with Maensith. For certain he had bene-fitted from the relationship, and the unconstrained life of a corsair suited him better than the half-duty of the rangers. Conversely, that freedom was always at the behest of another, whether that had been Maensith or Khiadysis. Ambition – insomuch as it related to the imposition of his will over others – had never been part of Aradryan’s goals, and life growing up on a craftworld eradicated most desires along such lines, emphasising the qualities of cooperation over competition.
With that in mind, the freedom to do as he wished was strong in Aradryan, and that freedom could be ensured with a ship and crew to follow his will. He had been fortunate so far in finding sponsors such as Athelennil and Maensith, but if he was ultimately to take control of his own fate, Aradryan needed to literally take control too. He glanced at Yrithain and wondered if the corsair prince would be vulnerable to a newcomer taking his place. After all, it was Yrithain who had brokered the first deal with the Commorraghans, which had now gone so badly wrong for the Azure Flame.
Aradryan did not want to betray Maensith, it was not in his character to be treacherous, but perhaps some kind of joint-leadership could be arranged. He was virtually co-commander of the Fae Taeruth already, so it would not be so much of a leap as might be imagined.
Turning his attention back to the ongoing debate, Aradryan reminded himself to be patient and to develop his plans one step at a time. There was no point in expending too much effort or thought on Yrithain just yet – Khiadysis was the immediate concern. As he listened to the conversation, Aradryan heard that the hierarch had been able to bring Yrithain on board with a plan to attack Daethronin, wherever that was; the three pirate commanders were arguing over the exact detail of the assault.
‘I think it may be useful for a neutral party to be the first to make contact,’ said Aradryan, sensing an opportunity. If he could somehow get Fae Taeruth separated from the rest of the fleet without violence, he and Maensith could consider their options. Khiadysis turned a questioning look on Aradryan, and he suppressed a shiver at being the subject of the cold-hearted stare.
‘Prince Yrithain has already had dealings with this De’vaque person,’ Aradryan continued, smiling apologetically at the commander of the Azure Flame. ‘Far be it from me, being just a humble officer of the Fae Taeruth, to cast doubt on the character of my superiors, but it would seem unwise to me, hierarch, to allow Yrithain to approach De’vaque without monitor.’
‘You think I would concoct some kind of double-deal?’ Yrithain’s lip trembled with anger at the proposition.
‘I would no sooner let you out of my sight than turn my back on my dracons,’ said Khiadysis, darting a murderous look at the prince-commander before returning his steady gaze to Aradryan. ‘Why can we not travel to Daethronin together?’
‘That is a perfectly sound strategy for attack,’ said Aradryan, looking at the others. ‘However, the longer and greater the surprise of our coming, the better it will be for all of us. The Fae Taeruth can act as scout and messenger, travelling to Daethronin just a few cycles before the rest of the fleet. We can bring back word of the enemy strength, if anything has changed since the Azure Flame last travelled there, and if encountered by the humans we can rightfully claim to be emissaries of Prince Yrithain. In fact, I would seek out such contact, to lure the humans into a misplaced sense of familiarity.’
‘That might work,’ said Khiadysis, rubbing the side of his nose with a bony finger. Yrithain caught something of Aradryan’s brief look, and his eyes narrowed with suspicion for a moment. Aradryan thought that perhaps the pirate prince would say something to the hierarch, but instead Yrithain’s lips twisted in a lopsided smile.
‘That is a far better plan, Khiadysis Hierarch,’ said Yrithain. ‘The Fae Taeruth can arrive first and make contact with Commander De’vaque on my behalf. The humans will prepare their port facilities for the incoming cargo, making them vulnerable. I will then travel to Daethronin under the guise of bringing the commander his share of our latest spoils. The Azure Flame and the Fae Taeruth will be in position to attack the enemy immediately when your ships break from the webway as the third phase.’
Maensith watched the exchange impassively, eyes flicking between the prince and the hierarch before glancing at Aradryan. She licked her lips quickly, and was about to speak when Khiadysis cut her off.
‘I did not rise to the position of hierarch, nor have I maintained it for so long, by allowing myself to be lured into potential ambushes.’ Aradryan’s chest tightened around his heart and he fought the urge to glance at the incubi spread across the stage. If Khiadysis deemed it more to his advantage to kill his allies now, all the hierarch had to do was give the word to his hired slayers. There was little he or Maensith or Yrithain could do to prevent their deaths in a few heartbeats; it was why they had been allowed into the throne chamber even though they were still armed.
‘There is no need to suspect such a thing,’ said Maensith. ‘To ensure that nothing is amiss, the Fae Taeruth will leave Daethronin as soon as the Azure Flame arrive. The greater strength of the fleet will still be with you, hierarch.’
Khiadysis considered this as Aradryan tried to keep his breaths regular and calm. He wondered if the hierarch would speak, or whether a simple gesture would be sufficient to bring down the wrath of the incubi. Perhaps even that would not be needed; the mercenaries may have some other means of discerning their master’s wishes.
‘I concur,’ said the hierarch, nodding briskly. ‘The burden of risk will lie with Prince Yrithain.’
Yrithain murmured a few protests at this conclusion, though whether out of genuine concern or simply so as not to appear too happy with the outcome of the meeting, Aradryan could not tell. The pirate prince took his leave soon after. Maensith rose to accompany him but was stayed by a gesture from Khiadysis.
‘Remain with me for a little while longer, child,’ he said. ‘Forgive my paranoia, but I would prefer it if you and the good prince do not engage in any discussions without me present. I will be monitoring the holo-network to assuage my anxiety and do not expect you nor any of your representatives to meet with any of the Azure Flame.
Is that agreeable?’
‘I am glad that we have an opportunity to discuss the future without Yrithain present,’ said Maensith, sitting down again, leaning ever so slightly closer to the hierarch than she had been previously. She looked with narrowed eyes at the back of Yrithain as he stepped from the hall. ‘It seems to me that we have an opportunity to not only take what we wish from Daethronin, but also rid ourselves of some dead weight.’
Ascension
The True Stars – There is a band of star systems, a great swathe of the galaxy, that lies between the Eye of Terror and the ring of the Exodite worlds. Many of these star systems were once home to eldar planets before the Fall. The inhabitants of these worlds perished when She Who Thirsts was born screaming into the galaxy, but their cities and technologies still survive. These places are known as the True Stars: the last remaining evidence of the Empire That Was. Great are the treasures hidden on these worlds, and powerful are some of the weapons that still defend them. Some True Stars have fallen to alien invasion, inhabited by humans, orks and others. Some are wildernesses, never to be found again. Many harbour treasure troves and vaults from the time before the Fall, and rangers from the craftworlds, Commorraghan expeditions and alien explorers often seek out these ancient and majestic worlds.
As Aradryan prepared to shift the Fae Taeruth from the webway into realspace, he ran over the plan in his head, endeavouring to find any flaw or missed opportunity. In theory, the scheme he had concocted with Maensith was simple enough: forewarn the humans of the attack and aid in the destruction of the Commorraghans. With Khiadysis and his ilk disposed of, the Fae Taeruth would be free to stay with the Azure Flame or leave as the corsairs saw fit. The complications came when one considered the humans. They were a fickle race at best, and downright stubborn and contrary at worst. There was every chance that Commander De’vaque would try to imprison or kill Maensith and her crew.
It was to forestall any negative reaction that the Fae Taeruth was exiting the webway far out-system from Daethronin’s star. The ship would coast in at cruising speed without holofields, hailing the humans from the outset. Maensith’s hope was that there would be no surprises on either side. Once the peaceful intent of the eldar was established, a meaningful discourse could be held with the Imperial governor.
In discussions with Yrithain, at which Khiadysis had been present, Aradryan had learnt that Commander De’vaque ruled Daethronin in the name of the Emperor; the humans called the system Carasto. From a previous, fortuitous encounter, Yrithain had run afoul of the Imperial commander’s starships, but had been able to broker a deal with the human. In return for safe berths and information about nearby Imperial convoys and transports, Yrithain gave a proportion of his spoils to the Imperial commander and left alone fleets and vessels leaving and destined for Daethronin. In this way, Commander De’vaque grew in power over his Imperial neighbours while the Azure Flame corsairs were given free rein to attack other star systems and merchant flotillas.
Aradryan wondered if there was some deeper reason behind Khiadysis’s desire to attack Daethronin. As one of the True Stars, it had once been part of the great eldar empire before the Fall. There were many Commorraghans that still harked back to those glory days, seeing themselves as the true inheritors of the old empire. It would not be a stretch of the imagination to believe that Khiadysis wished to strike back at the humans, who had built their Imperium on the ruins of the eldar civilisation.
With this in mind, Aradryan slipped the Fae Taeruth across the veil that separated the physical galaxy from the webway. Half distracted by thoughts of True Stars and whether there was a way in which Yrithain could be deposed from his position in charge of the Azure Flame, Aradryan was shocked when his sensor bank came alive with readings. He had been sure the Fae Taeruth would emerge a good distance from the orbit of Daethronin’s primary world, but as soon as the ship had broken into realspace the scanning arrays detected five human ships all within half a cycle’s travel of the cruiser.
There was no need to relay this information to Maensith. Via the psychic conduits running the length and breadth of the ship she was aware of the situation as soon as Aradryan. Contrary to instinct, Maensith ordered the crew to remain steady and did not order the holofields to be raised or the weapon batteries armed; she stayed true to the guise of an Azure Flame raider returning to its home. To this end, the Fae Taeruth had recoloured its hull to blue and black tiger stripes, and at Maensith’s insistence began broadcasting several crude human ciphers and hails passed on by Yrithain.
The simple radio wave messages took some time to be detected and for responses to be broadcast; time during which the Fae Taeruth came to a stop and allowed the human ships to form a cordon around her. There did not seem to be much urgency about the humans’ manoeuvres and Aradryan shared Maensith’s confidence that the Fae Taeruth was being treated as an unexpected but not unwelcome visitor.
Eventually the responses to the eldar’s transmissions were picked up. It took moments to run the garble of noises through the translator banks, which revealed a demand for the Fae Taeruth to meet the flagship of the human flotilla at a designated co-ordinate. There was no hint of suspicion in the message received, which was undersigned by a human calling himself Darson De’vaque. The repetition of the surname, Maensith explained, indicated that it was likely that the human fleet was under the command of a genetic relation of Commander De’vaque, though Yrithain had not furnished her with any information regarding siblings, parents or children.
Routing a brief acknowledgement through the translators and transmission systems, Maensith ordered the Fae Taeruth onto her new course, to rendezvous with the humans in one-quarter of a cycle. Aradryan was intrigued and excited. This would be the first time he had met a human without trying to kill or capture it; the prospect of a fresh experience raised him from the gentle lethargy that had plagued him during the last few raids.
The human ship stank.
Aradryan had always been aware of the stench during raids and boarding actions, but he had never really considered it having been occupied with more pressing matters of life and death. Though not tinged by the ozone of laser fire or the iron of spilled blood, the small frigate onto which he had been brought – along with Maensith and Iriakhin, one of Khiadysis’s warriors – was filled with a disgusting array of aromas. There was the filthy perspiration of the humans themselves, mingling with the smell of fossil-based lubricants. Metal and corrosion assaulted Aradryan’s sensitive nostrils alongside human effluent, unsubtly and ineffectively masked by olfactory-scourging anti-bacterial chemicals and artificially-scented detergent surfactants.
As if the stench was not enough to make Aradryan dizzy, the ship was in a state of constant vibration, both gentle and strong. Every corridor they passed along was abuzz with electrical charges from cabling within the walls, while crude light fittings fizzed with power. A more deep-seated resonation shook the ship from its plasma engines, creating an ever-present rumbling that unsettled Aradryan’s stomach. The thump of their escort’s heavy boots on bare metal decking pounded in the eldar’s ears, as did the rasping breaths of the ‘armsmen’ that had met the corsairs’ shuttle.
To complete the sensory assault, the artificial light flickered at a painfully slow frequency, so that to Aradryan and his companions’ eyes they seemed to strobe rather than provide the constant glow afforded by the more advanced, organic lighting used on craftworlds and the eldar’s ships. The contrast of glaring light and sharp shadow made strange, harsh angles out of the undecorated bulkheads they passed.
Without the distraction of deadly combat, Aradryan noticed all of these unpleasant sensations and more. They were conveyed to a primitive mechanical elevation chamber that clanked and clattered on chains as they ascended through the ship, the clunk of each passing level ringing through Aradryan’s ears. He focused on the humans, who wore ill-fitting pressure suits and bore short-barrelled, chemically-powered laser carbines; he could smell the laughably inefficient ac
idic compounds used in the weapons’ power packs. The men did not have helms or hats, but all were shaven-headed, bearing tattoos on their scalps akin to clan or House markings; their meaning was lost on the corsair.
At least a head shorter than the eldar, the soldiers of Darson De’vaque had flat faces and noses, their mouths wide, their eyes small and porcine. They glared with barely repressed anger at the eldar, their faces screwed up in clownish grimaces and sneers, but in their eyes Aradryan could see the touch of fear as well. The humans hated their eldar charges because they feared them, and they feared them because they did not understand them. Aradryan smiled at one of the humans in an attempt to alleviate his discontent, but the change of expression was misinterpreted and the soldier raised his gun a little higher, the comically deep frown creasing his forehead becoming even more contorted.
Amongst the stink and the clatter, it was not surprising that humans could barely think, Aradryan realised. It was almost impossible for him to concentrate for more than a few moments with such distractions. As if being short-lived was not curse enough for the people of the Emperor... It was no surprise that they had reverted to such barbarous ways, in the absence of genuine philosophy and culture.
Eventually they reached their destination, somewhere in the heart of the Imperial frigate. Other than a perfunctory welcome issued by Darson De’vaque upon the Fae Taeruth’s arrival at the rendezvous, they had heard no message of importance from their host. It seemed unlikely that hostilities would ensue, considering the dispositions of the other human ships in the vicinity, and Aradryan was hopeful of a cordial if not enriching experience.
They were brought to a low-ceilinged room lit by burning wax lamps. The effect of the lighting was not entirely unpleasant, in a prehistoric sort of way, and the lack of illumination was of no concern to the eldar, who could see far more clearly in the dim light than their human companions. At a long table that ran lengthways along the room sat Darson De’vaque, or so Aradryan presumed. He was a slender person, in comparison to the stocky guards that had formed their escort, and a little taller than the average human Aradryan had encountered. There was a softness to his face that indicated he was better fed than his subordinates, and his carefully trimmed facial hair also indicated a slightly higher standard of personal hygiene. Some flowery fragrance, overpowering in its own way, had been used in an attempt to obliterate the man’s inherent smell, and Aradryan detected the sheen of perfumed oil in De’vaque’s slicked, shoulder-length hair.
