Chronicles of Faer'un
Chapter 2
(Again, edited and practically rewritten by TheLoneHunter)
Phantom 4 Life: Lol
The Shas'ui had only a few seconds to react before the blade reached him, its keen edges slicing through the forest air with a soft hissing noise. Throwing himself forward, Faer'un felt something collide with the side of his helmet, as the whirling blade sliced through his comm receiver, severing his only connection to the outside world. He leapt to his feet at the edge of the clearing, his eyes rolling in their sockets, searching for the unseen attacker.
With a cracking of branches and twigs, his foe emerged, a large Night Lord Marine clad in full ceramite plating. A single chainsword, caked with rust and dried blood, hung from its gauntlet, its engine sputtering softly as its wielder stepped toward its would-be alien victim.
Faer'un swore in Tau, berating himself. How could he have allowed such a large opponent to sneak up on him so easily? Extending his arm blade with a sharp click, the Shas'ui chose a standard Vior'la combat stance, suited for dealing with large, heavily armored enemies. The Night Lord stared at him through its horned helm and slowly began circling the Tau warrior, its armor creaking as it drew closer and closer, cautiously studying its opponent.
Both of the duelists were waiting to see who would make the first move. Finally, the Marine raised his sword, charging at Faer'un with a horrific roar. The chainsword swung in an arc, embedding itself in the trunk of the tree beside where the Shas'ui's head had been just two seconds earlier. If he had hesitated, the blow would have instantly decapitated him.
The Fire Warrior ducked and rolled forward underneath his towering opponent, thrusting his blade straight upwards. A clash of metal on metal sounded, and the weapon glanced off, deflected by the Marine's ceramite armor. Faer'un leapt upright as the Night Lord warrior wrenched his trapped chainsword out of the tree trunk with a mighty heave, swiveling to face the Tau.
With a single motion, Faer'un drew Fury from his belt, squeezing off four shots at point-blank range. Even with the protection of its reinforced armor plating, the Marine simply had no chance of surviving the attack.
The drone-guided blades struck home, packing so much force that several of them actually passed through their target's helm, lodging in its brain with a noise like a knife slicing through a side of meat. The Marine collapsed to the forest floor in death, its body no longer receiving orders from its destroyed brain.
Faer'un sighed in relief. He had already fought a Berserker earlier, nearly losing his life in the process. The Marine was weaker, but still powerful enough to overwhelm him if it had managed to actually engage him in true combat.
Stopping his musings to run a quick systems diagnostics, the Shas'ui discovered that his communicator had been severely damaged, if 'severely damaged' meant 'sliced off at the base by a blade moving at speeds nearly too fast for the eye to follow'. This basically meant that he was stuck out in the middle of the forest, without any way of contacting Shas'O Sheo.
An ancient and commonly used gue'la curse materialized in his head, exploding from his mouth as he realized the futility of his current situation.
"SON OF A BITCH!"
Five minutes passed as profanity after profanity, each one worse than the last, were hurled into the air by the furious Tau, causing several flocks of birds to take to the sky in fright. By the time Faer'un had calmed down enough to take note of his surroundings, the sun had dipped below the horizon, heralding the coming of nightfall.
Reality struck him like a shell from a boltgun. He would have to find some form of shelter if he wanted to escape from this woodland. After a few minutes of searching around, the Shas'ui discovered a small overhanging rock, sturdy enough to serve as a suitable resting place for the night. Years of military training and service had reset his mind's inner clock, requiring him to sleep only a few decs every day.
Closing his eyes, the Fire Warrior was soon fast asleep, surrounded on all sides by darkness.
He was running, feeling tendrils of fear tightening around his heart. Dark shapes crashed through the bushes behind him, inhuman commands were shouted from the throats of his pursuers. He felt smaller and lighter, his movements more dexterous, able to dash gracefully through the forest, much faster than the…
His feet suddenly slipped on a rock, and he was flying forward, striking the ground face first and crashing into several more of the large stones.
He raised his hands in front of his face, noticing the dark blood that was running down his skin, trickling over his armor. For some reason, he possessed five digits on each hand, rather than the four fingers of a Tau. The skin of his hands was a light tan color, almost white, his fingers slender and deft. Looking down, he realized that he was clad in strange alien armor, unmistakably crafted to fit the figure of a female Eldar.
His confused thoughts were distracted by a loud thumping noise, as four of the Night Lords Marines stepped forward out of the shadows, surrounding him on all sides and fencing him in. With nowhere to run, he was at their mercy, trapped in the body of some Eldar woman.
He felt no fear anymore, only a strangely calming sense of acceptance.
Faer'un woke with a start, his head colliding with the top of the overhang.The Shas'ui cursed, rubbing his throbbing skull with the palm of his hand. He had had the strangest dream, and he was unsure what to make of it. He stepped out of the cave and into a narrow clearing, brushing aside a few large leaves and branches.
This was his favorite time of the night, when it so dark he couldn't see his hand in front of his eyes. The pitch-blackness fit well with his armor's coloring, and he felt the most comfortable in the dark. He enabled his blacksun filter with a flick of his hand and began walking through the heavily wooded forest, silently shouldering through bunches of various flora.
He came upon a rocky outcropping, overlooking a dried up riverbed. Down in the riverbed he could make out several figures gathered around a prone body, four Chaos Marines…and a frail, slender armored figure, the Eldar woman from his dream. Had he witnessed her future, or the present, as seen through her eyes?
He had to make a decision. Leave the female to a fate worse than death, or save her from the wrath of the Night Lords. The Tau respected the Eldar people, but had come into conflict with them before, as demonstrated by the brief conflict on Tera'mar IX, nine months prior to the recent Gereziad Campaign. On the other hand, if he saved this Eldar woman, it could possibly be the first step in a possible alliance with the aliens' forces. The Cadres would need all the help they could get if they planned to assault the temple.
Making up his mind he pulled out Fury and Wrath, emerging from cover and firing off shot after shot from the customized pulse pistols. The discs sliced through the air, lacerating one of the Chaos Marines where he stood and sending him to the ground, his blood spilling from his body as if from a spigot. Instantly, the other Night Lords raised their bolters toward his position, opening fire with a lethal barrage of deuterium shells.
A single bolt round struck the tree next to Faer'un's position, propelling a three-inch-long splinter of wood into the flesh of his arm. Biting back a cry of pain, he squeezed off a string of shaky disc-shots at the enemy, feverishly hoping that at least a few would find their targets. Another Marine collapsed; his throat slashed wide open by the razor-sharp projectiles.
With half of their squad depleted, the Night Lords decided that it would be best to retreat and inform their brothers of the situation in the woodlands. If the Eldar and the Tau were fighting alongside each other, then the war could take a sudden and devastating turn against the forces of Chaos.
Faer'un watched the warriors leave, grimacing as he stepped toward the fallen Eldar female, wrenching the splinter out of his shoulder with a grunt of pain.
That was impressive, young one.
The thought seemed to force its way into his mind, startling him. Looking around, he found that the Eldar woman was not unconscious but was, in fact, staring up at him, her eyes narrowed with interest. She seemed grateful, yet wary, as if she expected him to attempt to kill her where she lay.
A second thought entered Faer'un's mind, but this time, he did not resist. He meant no harm to the alien, and he decided that he might as well see what she had to say to him.
I am Farseer Haela, the female Eldar explained, closing her eyes, her head sinking into a respectful bow.
