Blades of Damocles

by Phil Kelly

  ‘Only Sha’vastos, and then because he is already here, overseeing the evacuation,’ said Aun’Tefan. She straightened her garments, a strange expression crossing her features. ‘In truth, the prototypes have been found wanting.’

  ‘They have?’ said Farsight. ‘How so?’

  ‘The Swords are using the same tactics across the planet, in the same situations,’ said Aun’Tefan. ‘They met with great success, initially, conquering near every beachhead the Imperials had established. But their strikes are so consistent, so they are becoming…’

  ‘Predictable?’

  ‘It seems so. The humans are not idiots, despite their appearance. The gue’ron’sha share information swiftly between their tribes, and are capable of learning at an impressive rate. Even a theoretically impeccable tactic is found wanting if the enemy is able to anticipate it.’

  ‘The Space Marines have strict doctrine behind their actions,’ said Farsight. ‘I have been monitoring it closely, for in the long term I believe it may be the key to defeating the Imperium’s finest armies. In a way, that doctrine has been matched against the Code of Fire. The elder strategists that laid down their tenets of war have been tested against ours.’

  Aun’Tefan nodded sagely. ‘And ours have been found superior.’

  ‘Of course. Their modus is primitive and lacking in insight, but it has some basic sense to it. Some of the human organisations, such as those the water caste call the Hammers of Dorn, obey its tenets to such an extent their actions have allowed me to codify several of its key points. The ones Por’o Kais calls the Ultramarines have exhibited very similar invasion dispersals and battle protocols. A weakness to be exploited, in the future.’

  ‘If only all these humans were as formulaic as you claim,’ said Aun’Tefan.

  ‘Do you refer to the anomalous data, honoured Aun?’

  ‘Yes. The humans have been launching attacks with… unconventional means. They are deploying warriors that defy easy categorisation and are almost impossible to anticipate, for there is no visible sign of their weaponry. The appearance of the operatives and the effects they manifest do not seem linked in any meaningful way. Sometimes the weakest specimens prove the greatest threat.’

  ‘Surely these incidents are localised, and easily avoided?’ said Farsight. ‘Metaphysical phenomena are not unknown to us. What do the Nicassar have to say on the subject?’

  ‘Very little, save vague and superstitious warnings. This is not ambient meta-tech, commander, nor is it the remote hypnology of the Nagi. This activity is… weaponised, for want of a better term. Ghu’lach mind-science, the earth caste call it. The gue’ron’sha have been actively using it against us at every opportunity. We have ordered the Shas’ar’tol to comb their archives, and it seems Commander Puretide never encountered this human technique of war.’

  ‘To my knowledge, that is true.’

  ‘The resultant cognitive dissonance is causing the Puretide engrams to malfunction. In places this has cost the fire caste dearly. The order to rescind the devices has already been given by Aun’Va himself. Many of the Swords of Puretide are already in custody of the earth caste, and cannot contribute to the war effort at this time.’

  ‘I see,’ said Farsight, scowling. ‘And may I ask a question? Are the devices extracted from the hosts’ brains without incident?’

  The ethereal paused, her expression darkening.

  ‘Sadly not,’ she said eventually. ‘The water caste will brief you on the details.’

  ‘I am sure they will.’

  ‘Because of this setback we are calling upon those commanders who have not undergone the process, first amongst them yourself and Commander Shadowsun, to defend Ath’adra with all available assets.’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘We have reinforcements inbound from five other septs, and the kor’vattra is convinced its fighter shoals will be mustered in numbers enough to gut the Imperial fleet should it hold its position. We will win this war, commander, and soon. But should the gue’la so much as witness the craft bearing the ethereal caste from the site, we shall consider the mission a failure. It is of critical importance to the Tau’va they escape without incident, and are not pursued.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘We have sanctioned O’Vesa’s inclusion in this matter, and the use of whatever prototypes he believes battle-ready,’ said Aun’Tefan. ‘No weapon will be left aside in the defence of the ethereal caste’s safety. Given the unreliable nature of the Swords of Puretide, we are reinstating you as overall commander for the rest of the Dal’yth war effort, effective immediately. Commander Shadowsun will work alongside you. Do not fail us.’

  ‘I will not,’ said Farsight. ‘This I promise, for the Greater Good.’

  The ethereal nodded and patched out. As the distribution array’s screen resolved once more, Farsight noted not only O’Vesa’s symbol winking in the corner, but the four-fingered claw symbol of the kroot shaper Kraakor Prokk, the stylised electromagnetic pulse of the Cadre Fireblade Shas’gra of Rala’tas, and the split blue triangle of the air caste. Underneath it, Admiral Teng’s plateau raptor symbol glowed gold. Scanning the exterior display screens once more, the commander saw the modified ochre Barracuda the admiral used as his personal craft arcing through the skies ahead of them.

  ‘Admiral Teng,’ transmitted Farsight, ‘an honour to have you as the tip of our blade.’

  The air caste officer’s symbol flashed in affirmation.

  Then Farsight’s heart lurched. The circle of the fire caste had appeared, a stylised white spider holding it in its tiny claws.

  The Kan’ji Mal’caor.

  He gathered his focus, breathing in, out, in again. Hardened his soul. He blink-pushed the symbol.

  Shadowsun’s face filled his screen, stern and noble. Her smooth features had begun to wrinkle a little at the eyes, but if anything the signs of maturity added to the sense of power and presence she exuded.

  To Farsight, the cold severity of her gaze was like a punch in the gut.

  ‘Commander O’Shovah,’ she said.

  ‘Commander O’Shaserra.’

  Farsight eye-masked the transmission, blocking out everything but the most high-grade urgency protocols.

  ‘Your plan?’ said Farsight.

  ‘I will take the fight to the ground assets in the locations appended to this transmission,’ said Shadowsun. ‘My cadres are already in position, hidden and ready to strike. Do not hinder them with your own efforts.’

  Her lips were a thin, cold slash. It was an expression Farsight knew all too well.

  ‘Kauyon-Shas,’ sighed Farsight, ‘this needn’t be…’

  ‘Do not call me that. That name died on Mount Kan’ji.’

  Farsight frowned and shook his head. ‘Contrition. An old artefact of speech. But we have a common duty here. We are the true Swords of Puretide, not these vral j’kaaras Aun’Va has fashioned. You, Kais, and I. And Kais is not here.’

  ‘He is never here,’ said Shadowsun, looking off to one side.

  ‘You cannot believe this surgical procedure of Aun’Va’s does honour to our mentor’s legend,’ said Farsight.

  ‘It is O’Vesa’s doing, not that of the Ethereal Master,’ she said, her tone cold as she turned to face him once more.

  ‘His was the hand by which the deed was done, yes,’ said Farsight. ‘But the fact remains. With the vast majority of our commanders out of commission, it falls to us to uphold the fire caste’s honour.’

  Shadowsun said nothing, which Farsight knew to be as close to an agreement as he was likely to get. Something was strange in her gaze. Not a single other soul would have picked up on it, not even O’Kais, but there was pain there, behind the mask.

  ‘Aun’Tefan spoke of the devices’ extraction,’ said Farsight. ‘She said it was no simple matter.’

  ‘It certainly
is not,’ said Shadowsun. He saw something flicker in her eyes, some emotion between anger and despair, before her shield of professionalism fell into place once more. ‘An old comrade of mine, O’Myen, has already had hers extracted.’

  ‘I remember O’Myen. Is she still as she was? Before the surgery?’

  Shadowsun’s eyes grew thin.

  ‘No. She has become as an infant. Perhaps worse. “Such is the cost of victory,” as the water caste said.’

  Farsight felt the truth seep into his blood like poison. It burned for a moment, and then grew hot.

  Hot enough to burn worlds.

  ‘You mean to tell me…’ He felt the flame of outrage burst in his veins, his lips tightening. His eyes flicked to O’Vesa’s icon, winking in the corner of the display, his mask of suppressed anger turning into a furious snarl.

  ‘Commander Farsight,’ said Shadowsun. ‘I do not think…’

  ‘This cannot go unpunished, O’Shaserra!’ shouted Farsight. ‘They take our brightest, our best, and they use them up like ammunition cells! It took them a matter of what, two rotaa? And what do they leave behind?’

  ‘Mont’ka-Shoh,’ said Shadowsun softly. ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Sha’vastos has had this procedure!’ cried Farsight. ‘He was the first to volunteer for it! That heedless fool O’Vesa, he just smiled at me a few microdecs ago, like nothing was wrong! How many other gifted leaders must we lose to this colossal mistake?’

  Shadowsun’s expression told Farsight the answer. It was as stark and clear as thin ice – ice with deep, black waters beneath, so cold they could kill.

  ‘By the stars,’ whispered Farsight, his emotions overcoming him. ‘It’s my fault. I took the original engram.’ His almond eyes closed involuntarily. When they opened again, they were rimmed red. ‘What have I done?’

  ‘You were ordered to go to Kan’ji by the ethereal council,’ said Shadowsun, her tone firm but gentle. ‘There was not a soul in the Tau Empire that would have done otherwise.’

  ‘I know,’ said Farsight. ‘I know that. I just… I can’t believe…’

  ‘We must believe in our leaders, Shoh. That is our way.’

  A long pause stretched between them.

  ‘I know what you are going to say next,’ whispered Farsight. ‘Trust in our destiny.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Shadowsun, her expression softening just a little. ‘That might be a good idea.’

  ‘You are right, of course.’ He hung his head. ‘I offer contrition, O’Shaserra. I shall keep my focus on this matter.’

  She shook her head quickly, dismissively. ‘Stop apologising.’

  ‘It is not a sign of weakness, commander. You should try it one day.’

  Shadowsun’s look of contempt was painful to witness. ‘You have changed so much,’ she said, ‘and yet so little.’

  Farsight shuddered out a breath. ‘This is a dark time in our lives.’

  ‘Then do not make it darker,’ said Shadowsun. ‘We follow the path to the Greater Good, as the ethereals show it to us. Even if that path should lead through shadow, we must walk it with our heads held high, and we cannot do that without them. Not without risking a lapse into the Mont’au.’

  The Time of Terror. Farsight felt his skin pucker at the very thought.

  ‘You near our position, commander,’ Shadowsun said archly. ‘It is time to do what you were born to do.’

  ‘I shall not be found wanting,’ said Farsight. ‘I promise you that.’

  ‘You had better not be, or I shall locate Monat-Kais and tell him to pay you a visit in the night. I shall see you once the trap is sprung.’

  ‘Until then. And thank you, commander.’

  Shadowsun raised a perfectly-arched eyebrow, and cut the link.

  Chapter Seventeen

  CULMINATION/THE KILLING BLOW

  The Silent Aftermath came down outside the staggered hexagonal towers of Ath’adra, the four pillar-engines at each corner of the craft rotating until they were vertical. The craft powered down with such grace that Farsight hardly felt it land.

  ‘Compliments, Y’eldi,’ he said absently. After his conversation with O’Shaserra, there was much on his mind.

  The transport bay was flooded with silver light, then gold. The inner doors at the craft’s rear slid back, the ramp hinging down soundlessly.

  Farsight stepped out in his XV8, the battlesuit’s analysis arrays panning wide and its sensor vane rising to maximum elevation as it harnessed every possible screed of information from the environment. The five hex-towers of Ath’adra loomed high and proud in the middle distance. In the dusk, their faceted sides were rendered ivory, orange and black. O’Vesa’s vast drop ship circled around to the macro dropsite beyond, Admiral Teng’s Barracuda squadron acting as its escort.

  The hex-towers were of different dimensions, but much the same design aesthetic. Lowest in height was the squat but massive tower emblazoned with a gigantic symbol of the earth caste, the regular oval windows in its flanks glowing bright. Drone nests dotted its upper walls, the sophisticated helper-machines within them ready to come to life at a moment’s notice. Farsight’s punch-cylinder readout displayed a slight vibration coming from the earth caste tower’s confines, as if it were generating an incredible amount of energy. The commander nodded in satisfaction – his requested protocols were already in place.

  Next largest was the water caste hex-tower, its topmost plane ringed with elegant communications vanes. Casting a shadow upon it was the tower of the fire caste, where Farsight had spent many rotaa discussing sept defence with his peers. Tidewall gunrigs bristled from the building’s hexagonal roof, and artfully concealed battlesuit hangars dotted its upper stories.

  Rising above the fire caste tower was the column of the air caste, tall and thin like the anatomies of the tau that dwelt there. Farsight had always been impressed by the building’s environmental engineering. Inside the hollow tower was a marvel of earth caste science, an artificial column of low gravity intended to make the long-limbed aeronauts more comfortable. Atop the air caste tower were the winking lights of landing zones. Every so often a craft would lift off from it on a mission of deliverance.

  Tallest of all was the tower of the ethereals. It was featureless other than the sign of their caste upon its flank and a viewing gallery at the top that enabled those inside to look down on the ordered landscape of Dal’yth as it stretched away to the horizon. Yet it did not need embellishments to convey its purpose. Its height and prominence spoke volumes.

  The sweeprail that led from Gel’bryn reservoir rose up to embrace the earth caste tower, curling around it to the interior of the complex before coming back around the far side of the water caste building. It looped around the tower of the air caste, then that of the fire caste, and finally wound upward twice around the ethereal tower to the very peak of the Ath’adra complex. Along the transmotive rail’s length were node-stations that allowed passengers to disembark into the towers themselves. From a distance, the sweeprail looked like a cord binding five disparate elements as one. Its symbolism had never been lost on Farsight. The castes were linked together by communication, technology and common purpose.

  Should the gue’ron’sha manage to penetrate the kauyons that O’Shaserra’s fire caste had prepared for them, that common purpose would form their last line of defence.

  A shadow fell across the landing site, its edge a gentle curve. The Manta Elocution of Flame had slid into place some hundred feet above.

  ‘Commander Farsight? We ask your permission to approach.’

  Farsight consulted his distribution array and blipped his assent. Against the inky sky he could make out Commander Sha’vastos as he descended from the Manta, his XV8 battlesuit’s vectored retro-thrusters flaring and his saz’nami bodyguards close by. The aged veteran’s Crisis suit was a welcome sight.

  Less so was the battlesuit
of Tutor Sha’kan’thas, drifting down alongside him. Farsight groaned inwardly. He was not sure he had the energy to deal with a mentally traumatised facsimile of Puretide and his old detractor Tutor Sha’kan’thas at the same time as planning the defence of a vital site.

  ‘Greetings in the name of the Tau’va,’ said Farsight to Commander Sha’vastos, pointedly ignoring the warrior at his side. ‘Assuming that is still your name?’

  Sha’vastos blipped the sign of the unworthy one, his battlesuit lowering in a gesture of deference.

  ‘Commander, I–’

  ‘Please, esteemed comrades,’ said Tutor Sha’kan’thas. ‘Allow me to speak first.’

  Farsight’s expression soured in his control cocoon. ‘If you have something to say, say it now. The gue’ron’sha strike approaches.’

  ‘I have made many mistakes in my life,’ said the old tutor, his tone that of one who has practised a speech many times. ‘The worst of them was to hinder you in your career, Commander Farsight. At the battle domes I taught you practically nothing that you could not work out for yourself. When you proved yourself the greater mind, I sought to hold you back in the hope you would lead with maturity and experience instead of youthful pride. By doing so I became the proud one. I have not acted in the way demanded by the Tau’va. I undermined the trust our race has in you, and indirectly led to the loss of many of our caste’s finest minds. I cannot live with this burden.’

  ‘Parts of that are true,’ said Farsight, ‘but not all of it. Without adversity, we cannot evolve.’

  ‘That is gracious of you to say,’ said the tutor, ‘but I must atone. It was I that levelled the accusation that you were vash’ya.’

  Farsight shifted in his control cocoon, his blood pounding hot.

  ‘I must start my life anew,’ continued Tutor Sha’kan’thas. ‘I shall take the role of monat, fighting alone until either I redeem myself, or give my life for the Greater Good.’

  ‘You, a monat?’ said Farsight. ‘I must admit I did not see you taking that role.’

  ‘I have been blinded by the clouds of a selfish perspective for too long. In my haste to prove myself a capable teacher, I forgot how to learn. That stops now. I begin my new life this day. To that end, I implore you – bestow upon me a new name.’