Tales of the Amber Vipers 130

*Bork'an Sept, the Tau Empire*

The Gue'ron'sha were about to attempt a breakout. Their position was untenable, caught in the open by barrages of Railgun fire and hails of missiles, so they had no other choice. White clad bodies covered the ground, their red flashes stained with mud and gore. Bikes lay smoking nearby, their riders picked off by hyper-accurate snipers and ion blasters. Their charge had faltered as they raced into the fire, little knowing their forms were painted by guiding Markerlight targeters. They had charged into a trap and been surrounded by unforeseen numbers, their squads finding themselves surrounded and cut apart by lashing waves of pulse fire. They had to flee or die, those were the only options.

From afar a towering war machine watched them. Humanoid in form, twin-legged and boxy, with a squat sensor dome on top and followed by a pair of bobbing Drones. It was pale orange in hue, with green flashes highlighting the nanocrystalline armour. Deceptively primitive in appearance yet fantastically advanced within, far beyond the Gue'ron'sha's crude understanding. Its motions were smooth and elegant and the weapons bound to its form were deadly indeed. Nestled within that armour was a Tau warrior, Alohvar, leader of this force and he keenly watched for the first sign of the coming breakout.

Suddenly and undulating cry arose from the embattled enclave and a heartbeat later a horde of white figures broke away from the onslaught of pulse fire. Alohvar's sensors swept them and he perceived the smooth Ceramite of their plate, the shimmering heat of their backpacks and the heft of their weapons. Parcels of compressed data flowed into his organic mind through the neural shunt, via which he controlled his Crisis suit, but he ignored it, he had no need to understand the density of their metalwork or the energy output of their plasma rifles. Yet he found himself entranced by the blazing icons on their plate, the lightning bolts and smooth calligraphy, almost civilising these crude warriors.

Alohvar watched from a distance as the Gue'ron'sha ran. Their transports and bikes were smoking wrecks so they had to run on foot. Churned mud stained their greaves and light rain pattered off their thick plates as the thunderous sky overhead grew dim. Pulse fire chased them, cutting down several and a volley of seeker missiles exploded in their midst, culling two more. Yet the greater mass of them opened the range with surprising speed, evading the worst of it. They were going to get away, or rather they would have had Alohvar not set a trap for them.

"Crisis team close the trap!" Alohvar commanded. From behind a ridge arose a whine of jet exhaust and three Crisis Battlesuits leapt into the air, each similar to Alohvar's own XV8 model. They soared gracefully into the path of the Gue'ron'sha, wakes of fire trailing behind them and they were already firing. Each Crisis suit bore a glowing plasma rifle on its right arm and they blazed as the Battlesuits arced overhead. Far more refined and efficient than crude Imperial technology the shining bolts scythed through Ceramite with ease, culling a half-dozen foes in the first volley.

To their credit the Gue'ron'sha did not break. The second the battlesuits slammed into the ground they rallied and charged, crying feral bellows of rage. Yet the Crisis pilots were not taken unaware and their secondary weapons came into play. Teq'ila's shoulder boasted a Fragmentation projector and it spat a spinning disc over their heads, that burst in midair to rain explosive bomblets in their path. Feet and shins blew out as the Gue'ron'sha trod upon an instant minefield. Those few who managed to avoid being crippled were struck down by missiles fired from Spiy'tus' shoulder pod, anti-armour rounds punching them off their feet. One Gue'ron'sha managed to close, swinging a crackling fist but Bruch'ich bore a Fusion Rifle on his left arm and fired a stream of microwave energy that liquified the enemy and left a bubbling mess behind.

The white warriors reeled but then from the surviving few arose a burst of flame as five warriors leapt into the sky. Jump packs, as agile and fast as Crisis suits. Alohvar saw it was time to intervene personally and urged his jet pack into life. He shot forward, moving to intercept in the scant seconds left. The white warriors saw him coming but it was too late to change course. Instead they twisted in midair and let loose a volley of bolts and plasma pistol fire at his charging form. Instantly his shield drones dipped before him, auras flickering as they absorbed the barrage on his behalf and not one shot made it to his armour.

In return he lifted his left arm and presented a cumbersome weapon with three glowing barrels. New, experimental and utterly deadly: a Tri-cyclic Ion Blaster. Ionic energy surged and then was let loose, sweeping the foe with energy. Guided by a veteran shot and augmented by a targeting array upon his shoulder the Tri-cyclic blaster tore through the warriors, tearing hearts out and ripped heads clean off. A single volley downed three Gue'ron'sha and left only two in the air.

All this had taken bare seconds to occur and both parties slammed into the earth at the same time. Instantly the white warriors bounded for him, trying to get into close combat. Alohvar pivoted and shot one of them off his feet with an ion bolt but the other barrelled into him, slamming a lightning wreathed sword into his leg. Nanocrystalline armour registered damage and Alohvar hissed as feedback shot through the neural link, damage formatted to express itself as pain.

The white warrior drew back his blade for another strike crying, "For the Emperor!"

"For the Tau Empire!" Alohvar retorted as he swung his right arm around. Encased in a bulky gauntlet the arm crackled with power as it made contact. An Onager Gauntlet, designed to punch through tank armour, met Ceramite and obliterated it, shattering the armour and eviscerating the flesh below. The white warrior exploded into a cloud of gore, spraying the Crisis suit with blood as the Gue'ron'sha was smote to ruins.

Alohvar hove about to face the rest of the battle but found it was already won. The remaining enemies had been killed by volleys of Plasma and the field belonged to the Tau. Suddenly silence fell and the world went still. Flames turned into glass sculptures and smoke became walls of darkness. No wind stirred and drops of blood became hardened rivulets on nanocrystalline armour. Colour drained from the world as it slowly became translucent and the bodies of the enemy faded away to nothing. Even the blood staining his Crisis Suit vanished, leaving no trace it was ever there.

Replacing the battlefield was a chamber of white walls and far horizons. Ceramic tiles lined every surface, dotted with solid-light projectors that grew dim as the holographic simulations ended. Friend and foe disappeared, leaving the four Crisis Suits alone in the simulator, the only real things that had ever been there.

Alohvar knew this exercise was over and reluctantly powered down his Crisis Suit, securing it from training mode where all weapon fire was simulated. His suit bowed low as the front chest opened, revealing a Tau curled into a fetal ball in the heart of it. Alohvar's eyes opened as his neural shunt disengaged, freeing him to move his own limbs. He shakily dismounted, his legs feeling like jelly after hours of disuse. This was an unfortunate side effect for Crisis pilots, they could operate their suits like their own bodies but their muscles suffered for the experience.

Standing on his two hooves Alohvar cast a grim figure. Like all Fire Caste he was densely built, results of a vigorous life of war. He had hooved feet and his hands only three fingers, while his face was flat and smooth. In this way he was typical of all Tau but unlike most his body bore numerous prosthetics. His left shoulder, neck and skull were artificial replacements, extending across his forehead to replace the olfactory slit that Tau had in place of noses. His eyes were original but the left one was housed in an artificial embrace, a curve of ceramic covering three-quarters of his eye socket. Far more advanced and subtle than the crude augmetics of other races, but one look would tell anyone that this warrior had been severely wounded and been rebuilt afterwards.

Alohvar looked about the sterile holo-chamber and saw his Crisis Bodyguards dismounting. Three bonded warriors, sworn to sell their lives for his. He honoured their service but secretly envied their closeness. They were a team, sharing the unity of the Ta'lissera knife rite to create an unbreakable bond. He was their commander but he must walk alone, a terrible burden for any Tau. There was impetuous Teq'ila, brave Spiy'tus and stalwart Bruch'ich, three heroes who had walked through hell at his side and never wavered. Together they had fought the madness beyond the Startide Nexus and joined him when he had been recalled home after receiving grievous injuries.

Teq'ila moved his arms in the traditional fashion to ease his cramped muscles and muttered, "I ache all over."

Spiy'tus replied, "Crisis suits bring great honour but they take their toll."

But Bruch'ich snapped, "It's nothing we've not seen before, cease prattling on."

Alohvar joined them and remarked, "This pain is necessary, for the survival of our Fire Warrior teams. It is a small price to pay for the lives of our comrades."

Bruch'ich nodded solemnly as he intoned, "We accept this pain, for the Greater Good."

"For the Greater Good," Teq'ila and Spiy'tus stated as one but Alohvar's reply hesitated slightly, making his words slightly out of synch.

If the others noticed they gave no sign and Teq'ila commented, "Your strategy was flawless, honoured Shas'El. A perfect Kauyon deployment. Surely the Shas'O must certify you combat ready once more."

"That remains to be seen," Alohvar replied, "Today was to test our interfaces with our suits… my suit. The Earth Caste must determine we can fight before the Fire Caste decides if we should fight."

"Speaking of which," Bruch'ich muttered, "Here comes the wrench spinners."

Alohvar saw a sizeable party crossing the holo-chamber, a gaggle of technicians and mechanics closing. They comprised various races, Demiurg, Antrazod, Formosians, Galg, all sworn to the common destiny of the Tau Empire. Their various skills were well employed in the Greater Good, a shining example of unity. The Ethereals taught that the correct attitude to alien life was tolerance and acceptance, the merging of their best features to create a superior society, like an alloy of metals. Each race had their place in the Greater Good and everybody worked for the common welfare of all. Aliens were to be respected and accepted, it was the only rational way to view the universe.

At their head walked a Tau, shorter in build than the Fire Caste and broader, with stout features and calloused hands. Earth Caste, the builders and artisans of the Empire, working tirelessly to create everything from weapons, starships and cities to farming communes and clothing. He bore a control slate in his hands and directed a number of scanning drones that were already probing the Crisis suits.

Teq'ila whispered, "Wretched tinkerers, they have no business overseeing Fire Warriors. They should be called mud caste, to fit their place."

"Careful," Alohvar chided, "Do not insult our valued workers with ugly words, not where they can hear you anyway."

"As you wish, Coldsteel," Teq'ila impudently replied using the slang term of his name.

"Watch your tone," Alohvar hissed then lifted his voice to cry, "Greetings Fio'El Bork'an Kais'at."

The senior Earth Caste worker stopped as the crowd set to work examining the Crisis suits and replied formally, "Greetings Shas'El Bork'an Alohvar. I see the test was successful, your Battlesuits are fully functional. How was the neural interface?"

"Seamless," Alohvar replied, "My prosthetics gave me no trouble. It was as it has ever been."

Kais'at glanced at his slate and asked, "What of the Tri-cyclic Ion blaster?"

"A marked improvement," Alohvar stated, "The increase in stability and accuracy was phenomenal. Combined with my Advanced Targeting module I could hardly miss."

"It is still undergoing field-testing," Kais'at remarked, "Yet it is proving most effective but I have not tested it on so basic an XV8 platform, only more advanced models. Tell me, would you not wish for a XV8-02 Iridium suit or a XV85 Enforcer? Why a Shas'El so lauded as yourself may even rate a XV86 Coldstar."

Alohvar shook his head and said, "I have fought too many wars with this suit, I would never be parted from my reliable XV8."

Kais'at snorted, "Typical Fire Caste sentimentality. It is only a machine, nothing more. Even the A.I. interface is only basic, no real self-awareness at all. This suit is indistinguishable from a million others."

"It is to me," Alohvar retorted.

Kais'at snorted in dismissal and asked, "In the simulation why did you use an Onager Gauntlet to dispatch infantry? it is an anti-armour weapon not anti-personnel."

Alohvar replied smoothly, "Against Gue'ron'sha one must have the assurance of an instant kill. They are too dangerous to be allowed to live long enough for a second strike."

"Pah," Kais'at spat, "They are not so tough. You employed far too much firepower from the start. Tactical analysis determines you could have completed the scenario with half the weaponry you brought to bear. It was overkill."

From behind Teq'ila scoffed, "Against Gue'ron'sha there is no such thing as overkill. These holo-models were weak."

Kais'at snapped back, "These simulations are based on real-world recordings of battle!"

Alohvar however admonished, "Recordings taken from the Damocles Gulf Crusade no doubt. Hundreds of Tau'cyr out of date. Gue'ron'sha are not all the same, they come in varieties. Trust me when I say these holo-models are nowhere near as tough as the D'eth Gurd assailing the Nem'yar Atoll."

Kais'at sniffed, "Well strategy is Fire Caste business, but I will request a review and update of the simulations. But for today's business I find no issue in the performance of your battlesuits. I am certifying your units fit for active duty."

"Then we can report to the Shas'O council that we are ready to serve?" Alohvar pressed.

"I just said that," Kais'at snapped, "What the Shas'O council do with you is up to them."

"Thank you honoured Fio'El," Alohvar stated beaming with pride, "It will be good to return to service. For the Greater Good."