Empire of Lies, page 14
Retreat, retreat, retreat. It must have burned Farsight’s very soul, and those of his commanders, but Throne above, it worked better than anyone dared to hope. Two rotaa later, the orks, bereft of enemies upon whom they could vent their spleen, started to fight each other. The rival wargroups that had been brought together in the name of conquering Atari Vo, by their nature clannish and fractious, turned upon one another.
Likely it didn’t help that their war leaders were long gone by that point. It was a mystery how and why they disappeared, but high command was so relieved that they had departed they didn’t look past it.
Something inside me, inside the mirror, told me it was all happening for a reason. That there was some greater plan at work, and that the orks had their part to play, just as I did. A wedge was being driven into t’au society, hammered in deep through the tensions of war. One well-placed disaster, and it could split the T’au Empire, so assured of its own supremacy, in two.
That thought gives me a guilty thrill of pleasure I thought I had left long behind.
Back on Atari Vo, Farsight had no idea of the cost his compassion, his guilt, would carry. After the planet was secured, we set off for the enclave side of the gulf once more. I know that decision galled Farsight, for long-range scans had determined Arthas Moloch as a target for ork invasion, and much of his agenda hinged around the total extermination of the greenskins in t’au space. Duty to his own hearth won out, in the end.
The Farsight Enclaves, as they are becoming known, are proof of just how dangerous the T’au Empire can be. Incredibly, in the space of a few short years, this little xenos civilisation has managed to conquer almost all of the worlds formerly lost to the Imperium and raise up its own infrastructure to link them together once more. Four principal worlds have each drawn one of the castes in particular, though every caste has a major presence on every world in this strange cluster of systems.
First to be conquered was Vior’los, a world of volcanoes and fire that formed the energy breadbasket for the Great Reclamation’s ensuing conquests. That planet was claimed by the fire caste above all, for there the war with the local Adeptus Mechanicus was intense, and required a great deal of commitment from the t’au military.
Lub’grahl is a world almost entirely bereft of water; other than its frozen polar regions it is largely an ochre wilderness of plateaus and mesas. It was soon turned into a vast weapons-testing zone, as far as I can glean; though the fire caste had designs on more permanent installations there, the gravity is very close to that of the t’au home world from which they take their name, and so the earth caste earmarked it as a planet upon which they can perform their experiments in something approaching neutral conditions.
Tinek’la is a planet like no other I have seen, essentially a world predominantly made of translucent crystal. The earth caste found a way to refine their ZFR propulsion engines using this material, and much of the expedition’s air caste is being refitted there as a result. Its skies are dotted with orbital stations and technus docks.
Tinek’la acts as a way station from which the farther flung planets of the enclave worlds can be reached, notable amongst them Gue’vesa’rio, a planet once known on the Eastern Fringe as Evenchoir Secundus, but now a world remade in the image and philosophy of the Greater Good. Though there are die-hard Imperials still mounting a resistance war there, the vast majority of the population is ‘gue’vesa,’ and the remnants of its traitorous Astra Militarum have taken the devil’s bargain of an easy life – and high-tech weaponry – in exchange for fighting on the T’au Empire’s behalf. The same is true, but to a lesser extent, of the ex-Imperial planet Illuminas. I imagine that too will be renamed in time, just as with Gue’vesa’rio.
Salash’hei is strangest of all – not a planet so much as a collection of several vast and viscous liquid planetoids, all in thrall to each other’s gravity. Each globular sphere of this oceanic cloud has a solid core surrounded by miles-deep oceans of saline water. This strange region, too, has been settled, and now has vast hover-cities gliding over the waves. I am told these disc-like metropolises are centres of great learning and debate, and that the water caste there seek to learn from the fluidity of Salash’hei itself.
After the horrors of Atari Vo, we were all in a hurry to return to the enclave worlds, I think. By this point the air caste had become familiar enough with the crossing, and we made the journey without major incident, spared the terrors of sailing so close to the empyrric storms of the warp itself.
What we found waiting for us back in the enclaves was horror enough.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE THRONE AFLAME
EIGHT IMPERIAL MONTHS LATER
VIOR’LOS HIGH ORBIT
FARSIGHT ENCLAVES
‘No.’
Farsight sat stupefied, his mouth dry as he watched his worst nightmare unfold on the Manta’s command console before him. They had made it across the gulf in good order, emerging from its anomalous nebulas into stable space once more with only minimal trauma. Though none would admit to it, they had all been hoping for some much needed rest and reinforcement after the cleansing of Atari Vo. Then, just under a dec ago, long-range data had begun to reach them from the enclave worlds themselves. It painted a picture of a war already in full flow, a conflict that had embroiled all four of the enclave systems and ravaged their principal worlds. The estimated death toll was already in the tens of millions.
Even from space, the enclave worlds bore the scars of ork invasion. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of black spots – crater marks, each denoting a landing site of an ork asteroid ship – scarred Vior’los alone. The hexes sprung up, one after another. There was a similar story on each of the planet’s peer worlds: Lub’grahl, beloved of the earth caste, was scarred by vast convoys of ork vehicles. Crystalline Tinek’la’s skies were lousy with ork aircraft. Even elements of Salash’hei’s endless oceans were blackened by the presence of ork armadas.
‘How?’ Farsight’s dismay turned to anger, hot and liquid inside him. ‘How could this have happened?’
You risked it all, said a voice inside him. You gambled, and you lost.
‘I hate to admit it,’ said Y’eldi, ‘but these orks must know their way around the Damocles Gulf. Perhaps they know routes through the nebulas that we do not.’
‘Better than you? Better than the finest minds in the air caste?’
‘Maybe they had a head start,’ said the young pilot. ‘I have heard it said we spent far too long on Atari Vo.’
‘These are not the same orks,’ muttered Farsight. ‘They cannot be. How could they be? These are raiders from outside the Vorac Belt.’
‘As you surmise,’ said Y’eldi. His tone made him sound far from convinced. ‘Though a wise fire caste commander once told me that the orks, when they find an enemy that will oppose them capably, are tenacious foes.’
More hex informationals flooded the data stream. Some showed t’au cadres in full combat operations against hurtling, roaring fleets of ork vehicles. Others revealed aerial battles, squadrons of Tiger Sharks, Barracudas and Sun Sharks duelling with ramshackle ork fighters amongst a field of missile contrails. All of them demanded his attention, a hundred theatres of war all hanging in the balance, all desperate for one with the vision and logistical flair to turn imminent defeat into rousing victory.
‘I am not that soul,’ said Farsight under his breath.
‘High commander?’ said Y’eldi.
‘Nothing.’
‘What are your orders? Should we approach Vior’los?’
‘It is closest,’ said Farsight.
‘Is that a go-ahead?’
‘Yes,’ said Farsight, trying for something of his old certainty. ‘Yes, make for the principal space port. We have much work to do. I must confer with O’Vesa, and if all goes well, then I think I have an announcement to make.’
‘Of course.’
‘You come back to us, O’Shovah. In doing so, you turn the tide.’
Shas’O Arrakon was a giant of a t’au, proud of bearing and manner. He wore a dual scalp lock, and for good reason; the rings that denoted his victories were so numerous they could not be borne by one alone. Farsight knew Arrakon more by reputation than experience, though in the short dealings they’d had thus far, the Vior’losan had proved a capable and dutiful commander with a vision and thoroughness behind every one of his victories.
There were rumours that Arrakon deconstructed every engagement he had ever fought after each post-battle debrief, peeling back layers of cause and effect until he had a mind-map of every eventuality that could have occurred. In doing so he would already have learned the best course of action next time they were called upon to fight in a similar manner. It was said he thought of little else. Yet here, in council with Farsight, the muscular warrior made the open hands of the youth-yet-to-learn.
Upon making planetfall, Farsight and his fellow shas’o had hastened to Vior’los’ command nexus on the slopes of Mount Vasocris. Ostensibly, they were there to agree on a brief for the fire caste to unite their efforts against the ork invaders. In truth, Farsight had gathered them for quite another reason. He had been in lengthy conference with O’Vesa, and a breakthrough had been made. There was hope for the beleaguered enclaves yet.
But it did not lie with him.
‘I intend to bring salvation,’ said Farsight, ‘though perhaps not in the manner you expect.’
‘I assume our wargroups will combine forces as soon as feasibly possible,’ said Arrakon. ‘All of our forces are committed, and we are slowing the ork assault as best we can. I have long studied the art of turning a foe’s numerical mass against itself. Bolstered by your hunting cadres and your own mastery of war, we will turn a losing battle into a rout.’
‘You may well achieve that. Do you happen to know what manner of ork force we face on Vior’los? There are more subcultures than we originally assumed.’
‘I have been analysing their leadership structure,’ said Arrakon. ‘It is stratified by size, of course, but also along societal lines. They are led by a powerful warlord I have yet to face in person, O’Shovah, though I have a record of his icons, and his favoured tools of war.’
The Vior’losan swiped a finger, and a set of images appeared on the holographic informational in the midst of the fire caste officers. The holos showed massive tracked vehicles, each adorned with animal skulls and no few decayed t’au corpses upon their spiked rams. Along their flanks were glyphic symbols that sent a spike of fear into Farsight’s heart.
Guns. Intoxicants. Wealth. Strength. Cunning.
Warchief Grog. The greenskin war leader had vanished from Atari Vo, and none knew quite why. Not even Farsight had suspected the reason behind his disappearance. Now, the truth of his vanishing from the battle of Tau’rota’sha was horribly, blood-curdlingly clear. The ork had baited them in space, then planetside on Atari Vo, and then – when Farsight thought himself victorious – the ork had levelled a death blow at the newly founded enclaves. It was no accident. The war Farsight had started in the Vorac Belt, the fleet he had hounded across vast swathes of space, had spread back across the gulf to destroy everything he had worked for in his absence. Grog and his piratical allies had outmanoeuvred him twice over.
Farsight straightened, and set his jaw. ‘My commanders will work alongside you as long as needed, Shas’O Arrakon. They are well tempered in the fires of war, and collectively they have more wisdom than I could ever hope to exhibit.’
‘And as for you, O’Shovah? I assume you will mastermind the reclamation from high command before leading us in the field. What do you intend your focus to be?’
For all his formality, for all his quiet confidence, Arrakon was clearly desperate for help. The question hung in the air.
‘Reflection,’ said Farsight. ‘Study. I have doomed too many initiatives to failure, and will not make the same mistake again.’
The statement was greeted only by stunned silence. Farsight felt it was as if the air had been sucked out of the room.
‘I am not sure I understand.’ Arrakon’s tone was cold.
‘I have lost that which I once found came so easily – my judgement. My perspective is compromised to such a degree I can no longer function as the leader of this expedition.’
Bravestorm gave an awkward, strangled cough. ‘But, high commander–’
‘Do not fear, Commander Bravestorm. I have a replacement in mind. One who is closer to Master Puretide than even I.’
‘You speak of Shadowsun?’ said Moata, his eyes wide. ‘Is she not in cryostasis?’
‘She is, as is Kais,’ said Brightsword. ‘Farsight is the only soul in active service who can embody Master Puretide’s wisdom.’
‘Not so,’ said Farsight. ‘There is one closer to him even than I.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE REVENANT WITHIN
VASOCRIAN COLOSSEUM
VIOR’LOS
The war museum on the flanks of the Vasocris supervolcano had a placement full of meaning. It had been built on the site of the battle against the Imperium that had proved the turning point in Vior’los’ fortunes. Here began the reclamation of a planet twice won, taken first with words, then with battle. Here the slavers of the Adeptus Mechanicus had been pitched into the fires of their own hellish and wasteful energy farms, here the blood of men and t’au stained the pumice of the caldera in a thousand places – Farsight himself had forbidden the fio from cleaning it off, and thereby eradicating the sacrifice that had been made there – and here the earth caste had begun to perfect the geothermic science that to this day powered every principal world in the Farsight enclaves.
A heavy skimmer idled on the slopes of the Vasocrian Colosseum, awaiting Farsight’s return from the earth caste facility. Y’eldi had brought Farsight here in secret, choosing the Orca as his craft for three reasons. One, the unremarkable transport was the least likely of all the vessels in the air caste’s hangars to draw attention from the water caste. Two, it had thrust enough to make it through the dark clouds of pyroclastic fallout that still swathed the top of the Vasocrian volcano range. Three, the craft’s name, Quest for Knowledge, had pleased Y’eldi’s sense of the ironic – the Adeptus Mechanicus they had driven from this site were obsessed with acquiring information, seeing the matter as a holy crusade through which they could honour their long-dead Machine-God. Farsight recalled O’Vesa holding forth on the notion that their hoarding of knowledge was more for the act of possession than its practical application, and his theory that the cybernetically enhanced members of gue’la society tended towards atavism and madness more than most.
The earth caste, on the other hand, was constantly seeking innovation. Only the most eccentric of their number placed a value on the lessons of the past. Farsight felt a smile tug at his lips. O’Vesa could definitely be counted amongst the most peculiar of the earth caste, if not of all the t’au he had ever met.
The flanks of the war museum were ridged with sweeping spokes that each ended in a giant, curving shield generator. The machines were idle, at that moment, but could be brought into instant effect by a single code phrase. Farsight walked between them, fighting his way through the whipping, ash-thick wind to approach the entranceway beyond. He placed the tip of his thumb against the sensor dent, and felt it grow warm to the touch.
‘Through understanding, victory.’
Cross-referencing his vocal signature to that of his genetics, the airlock-style door irised open, allowing Farsight access into a rounded vestibule. It was dimly lit, not by conventional emitters, but by a series of sophisticated holograms that appeared much like statues. Each depicted a benign and dignified fio in the full dress of his birth sept world. Motes of dust danced through them, giving them a surreal, sparkling quality; the place had been closed for some time.
Most of the holograms were unknown to Farsight, though he recognised that of Worldshaper, the terraforming expert who had brought the enclave worlds into optimal levels of habitability over the last few tau’cyr. A measure of her inner dignity shone out from her stance alone. He passed that of Fio’O Bork’an Ishu’ron, the creator of the ballistics suit concept devised to be the bane of Imperial Titans, and Fio’Ui Pna, creator of the dronenet, with her crown of antennae. To his relief, he could not find O’Vesa amongst the holograms. Even the socially inept earth caste supremo had the sense not to fashion a monument to his own edification – or had advisors canny enough to caution him against it.
Pacing to the back of the vestibule, Farsight located the portal leading into the heart of the museum. He was about to flick some live skin cells onto its receptor by way of identification when the door slid smoothly open.
Beyond it was a vast dome, its ceiling largely transparent to show the roiling black clouds of the Vior’lan ash storms high above. The orange fire of distant volcanoes played through them, sending shadows dancing across the museum exhibits dotted around the hall.
Some of the exhibits had been abandoned whilst still under construction, grav-scaffold drones and worker lamps casting them in pools of wan light. Farsight saw Fio’taun cannons exhibited alongside early prototype battlesuits, an early mor’tonium containment unit – thankfully inert – and even an exploded diagram of an Imperial warp drive recovered from the Damocles War. He saw a cluster of seismic fibrillator nodes, the devices that had proved pivotal to his victory over this very peak, and made a mental note to commission a few hundred more of the devices before he left. He saw field-contained energy blades, detonators that were the size of fingertips yet would yield megatonne explosions, schematics for advanced Mako-class warships, and diagrams for a dizzying variety of drones adapted for everything from medical recovery to repulsor field projection.
