SEVENTEEN

Given my propensity to be overly critical of my mistakes, one can imagine how I took the realization that the man who had saved my life, a man with whom I had been working closely for the past few days, was not even a man at all. He was a xeno. Worse than that, he was a xeno who had been playing me for a fool. The revelation raised numerous questions and brought about grave implications for the entire campaign. Cain, for the most part, did seem somewhat surprised at Garrick's confirmation but I'd wager that Cain had been suspecting something of his nature for some time. The truth, then, merely confirmed a possibility that had been slowly dancing around in his mind. I had long resigned myself to the fact that Cain, being more experienced, could see things that I would overlook. But just how superior his perception was to mine and to those around him did not dawn on me until that day. He had correctly suspected something that completely blindsided me even though he had been little more than a casual observer.

The extent of my knowledge of Eldar had come from lectures at the schola and a few afternoons in a xenobiology lab where we were shown specimens of the various alien races. I had been spoon-fed the usual lecture material about the Eldar – their fickle, capricious nature; their contemptuous disregard for humanity; and possessed frail, feeble bodies that could not stand the rigors of true combat. I, however, recall reading an old Guardsman's primer from the Damocles' Gulf Crusade, the Imperium's first major campaign against the Tau, and to say that the primer was inaccurate about the Tau would be akin to saying that a Tyranid infestation is a 'bit of a bug problem.' What the average citizen is taught about the xenos serves to little more than placate them. I've learned over many years that the public is usually given the bare-minimum in terms of facts, fleshed out with copious amounts of fabrications. It's an ugly necessity, however, as even a grain of truth would make most people just give up on life. While the previous remarks were true about Eldar in general, there is far more to them than generic, broad-stroke characterizations.

Kael, for example, came across as anything but capricious or contemptuous, and he handled himself better in battle than most soldiers I had met. Of course, he likely had more battlefield experience than an entire company of guardsmen. Still, to think that the man that I had slowly learned to consider a strange sort of friend was actually a xeno left me feeling…conflicted. I would be lying if I said that Kael did not haunt my thoughts to this day. On Magnus Viridis, I was so young and bloody naïve…I had trouble wrapping my head around the notion of Kael being the enemy. He had saved my life and, for a brief moment, I had started to understand him but he was a xeno nonetheless – an enemy of the Imperium. Duty always had to come first.

For a long time, I was bloody pissed off, mostly at myself for having been duped so easily. Cain did his best to reassure me that everyone else was equally fooled but I noted that he didn't answer when I asked why he wasn't deceived. From what Garrick had told me when I asked for more about the Eldar, chances were that my first encounter with the Eldar had been staged. Coincidences, according to Garrick, do not exist with the Eldar – the unlikely happens because they make it happen. I asked Garrick if there was any truth to the rumours I had once heard that the Eldar could see into the future using their sorcery. He told me it was true but the truth was not as terrifying as the rumours made it seem. That, unfortunately, did little to comfort me.

Kasteen was understandably annoyed when the news reached her the next day. She was the one who had approved Kael's attachment to my command but whether she was annoyed out of sympathy to my situation or because she too had been played, I cannot say for certain.

The revelation left me in a quiet, brooding state for the next several days while I recovered in the medicae facility. I wasn't sure what should be feeling – anger at Kael's true nature? Annoyed by his deception? Hurt by his desertion? Saddened by the fact that I'd have to kill him the next time I saw him? Worried that he'd probably kill me if I tried? Terrified by the fact that every thought I had when he was around was probably probed by him? What threw my emotions even more off balance was when I awoke one morning to find a small trinket that had been left on my bedside table. It was a small piece of wood that had been diligently carved into the shape of a little person…a person who, upon closer inspection, I realized was me, dressed in full commissarial attire and posed with a raised hand saluting. The detail was immaculate, down to even the subtle details of my artificial eye. Along with the tiny wooden figurine was a flower, the same kind that Kael had shoved into my hair when we were out on patrol. Had I not known who it was from, I would've of considered it a sweet gesture but part of me simply wondered if he was intentionally messing with my head. I was half-tempted to pitch the figurine across the room but…for some reason I pocketed it instead. If anything it would serve as a simple memento to remind me to pay closer attention to those around me. To look beyond an individual not just at them.

By the end of the first week, I was well enough to start moving around again but my body was still stiff and sore. So Cain confined me to administrative duties for a few more weeks. It was strange that it took less than a day for word of Cain's heroic rescue to spread through the base but it took nearly a week for people to realize that I was the person rescued. Even Lord-General Zyvan thought I was dead up until I meandered past him in the halls several days after my return. Were it not for my distinctively white locks he probably wouldn't have even noticed me.

The situation with the Adumbrians had improved somewhat after a few days. With Trevek missing, the remaining Adumbrians companies were divvied between the other regiments. The Lord-General figured it would be safer to keep them separated so any potential dissenters would not be able to spread their message and it would be easier to keep a watchful eye on them. We had little idea of where Trevek and his men went but with an ork horde to deal with we could not spare much manpower to scout around. A surprising olive branch came from the Tau as they offered to assist in locating the missing colonel, though the Lord-General was worried that if the Tau found him first we would get a corpse, rather than a prisoner. According to Garrick, Eldar tampering could have played a factor and we needed to confirm if this was the case. Stimpsen was still alive but as Cain promptly pointed out, the man was so obtuse that he probably didn't need much convincing beyond Wren's commitment.

It had also been brought up that our spy problem was likely also the interference of the Eldar. Whether it was Kael or another hidden operative was unknown but I hoped that it was Kael – we had enough to deal with that we didn't need more Eldar to complicate matters. Kael was the logical choice as his past experience in the PDF would have given him an understanding of the city's layout, including the gate control mechanisms, and if warp prophecy was involved then it would explain how the Tau knew about Cain's participation in the campaign. We had no idea what Kael hoped to accomplish and even Garrick was at a loss for ideas. Eldar, he explained, could operate on reasons that our minds simply could not fathom but while I didn't voice it, I suspected that Kael was not that complicated. But if Kael was the only operating spy then I had another reason to hate him – Waffan's death.

Some officers were certain that Kael would head underground or off-world now that his cover had been blown but I doubted it would be that simple. Kael got involved for a reason and it wasn't just to hang around me for a few days. Whatever he was up to, he intended to finish. The wooden trinket alone was proof that he could still walk into out midst without even being noticed. He had simply lost one tool in his arsenal but he still had a big barrack box of trickery left to rely upon.

While I toiled away with paperwork in my office, the rest of the regiment had fun dealing with the orks. As we had anticipated, the major ork offensive against our city came a few days after my return. Thanks to Cain's heroic actions in saving the Tau leader, a temporary truce to combat the common threat was cemented. Hostilities between our armies ceased and we turned our combined firepower against the Orks. With the worry of Tau anti-air batteries temporarily gone, we were able to receive more supplies and equipment from our fleet and Thunderhawks from the Astartes frigate provided valuable air support in defending the city against the orks. The weeks while I was stuck in the office were…eventful for the regiment and I was irritated that I was once again stuck on the sidelines. Watz didn't seem to mind too much – it kept him out of the firing line and he began to find an appreciation in being aide to a commissar. For starters it gave him authority that did not come with extra responsibility – if I needed a cup of recaf he was able to get it from the mess hall promptly, along with anything else he was feeling puckish for, using the commissarial authority. There were times I wondered if he enjoyed that perk a little too much but I figured if it kept him happy and he didn't step on anyone's toes then he might as well get to enjoy the perk. Emperor knows it's tough to be a guardsman even without the 'you'll probably die in the next fight' threat looming overhead.

Heilmit, on the other hand, was getting restless now that his injuries had healed enough for him to handle a lasgun comfortably again. Things had apparently gone south between him and the pretty medical orderly he had been fancying so he needed an excuse to get out of the medicae facility quickly. I managed to convince Kasteen to attach him to one of the squads for the time being – Grifen's squad to be precise. The kid made quite an impression on Magot if I recall correctly and she made quite an impression on his face…with a rifle butt.

To be fair, I don't think she was his type to begin with.

The campaign against the orks began to improve significantly as the days passed. In a few days they went from threatening our cities to being pushed back into their base of operation. The Catachans and the Kroot became instrumental when the fighting pushed into the thicker parts of the jungle and while tension was always present, I think the Catachans enjoyed not having to deal with the kroot (not that they were scared of the kroot or anything, according to them at least). Lord-General Zyvan hoped that we would have the ork problem dealt with within a few more weeks and then we could go back to killing the Tau, which I really wasn't looking forward to all that much. With most of the fighting in the jungle, our vehicles had less impact on the battles, which meant that the casualties were beginning to mount on both sides. It soon became clear that the Catachans would have to be relieved. Kasteen, in true Valhallan fashion, was quick to volunteer her regiment. News came that the regiment would soon be moving to the frontline at about the same time my wounds were healing, which meant that I either had to go with them or pretend to be more hurt than I actually was.

I'd be lying if I said getting shot didn't have a lasting effect on my psyche. I'm proud to say that it didn't change me fundamentally but I wasn't really myself for a short period afterwards. Aside from my moodiness from the Kael-related issues, being shot left me on edge for a few weeks. Some nights I had trouble sleeping, my mind wandering back to those moments of fear and uncertainty inside that warehouse. A shot of amasec usually settled my nerves but during the day I still found my hand shaking at times and I would need another shot just to finish my paperwork. The doctors said one of the shots might have singed some of the nerve roots in my back but frankly I wasn't wholly convinced it was purely physiological. The issue of who shot me still weighed heavily on my mind, even after a couple of weeks. There was no evidence and questions directed to Jydais and his squad turned up nothing useful as expected. I had hoped that Cain, in his ever-perspective ways, would have noticed my preoccupation and intervened but the campaign against the orks had been taking up most of his time and the news of our redeployment left him busier than usual.

The only other person I felt it prudent to talk to was Garrick, the only person in the warehouse whose answers would be brutally honest. He wasn't difficult to find. Since most Astartes live rather routine day-to-day lives, chances were Garrick would be in the same spot he'd been using for practice for the past few weeks. On a normal day it served as a storage room but since its supply of ammunition had been spent, it provided a wide, open space for a marine to keep his skills sharp.

Swinging around his power axe, Garrick was exactly where I had expected to find him and he noticed my arrival immediately. I imagine most Astartes are not used to normal people walking in on them and I believe that had it not been me, he would have thrown the intruder out immediately; maybe even alive but on that point I will accept that I might be wrong.

"Why do you come here Commissar?" Garrick asked with the usual politeness of a space marine.

"I…uh, was hoping to talk to you."

"Talk?" he repeated incredulously. "If you require placation then find a priest. I am a warrior, not a counselor."

"I think that's what I need." He looked at me silently for a moment, cold eyes scrutinizing me carefully.

"Very well, speak your mind," he said, though his reluctance was evident. He probably thought it would be easier just to let me talk than try to argue with me. I'm sure his first thought was to just crush my head like a grape but that likely would not have gone over well with the Lord-General.

"Have you ever been betrayed by someone?" I asked cautiously. It would be a sensitive subject for anybody and while space marines are not the touchy-feely type, I'm sure they prefer to avoid unpleasant subjects just like regular humans.

Once again he was silent, though this time in contemplation rather. "Personally? No. However, I once had to deal with a traitor to the Chapter, which carries the same weight as a personal betrayal."

"And what happened?"

"His name was Zacharius; we were Battle-Brothers in the same squad. He was strong, ambitious, and very proud. He and Brother-Sergeant Tavares did not see eye-to-eye at times. Zacharius accused Tavares of over-looking him on missions, giving the more glorious assignments to other members of the squad while relegating him to the more mundane tasks. He continually failed to understand that the only honour lies in success of the mission, not in one's role in the mission. Our squad was tasked with clearing a stronghold of cultists. Zacharius and I were tasked with maintaining the rear guard while the sergeant and the others went inside and finished the heretics."

"And I take it that Zachy didn't appreciate being told to watch the door?" I remarked.

"Furious, as to be expected, and that was partly the reason I was tasked to hold the rear guard as well. Zacharius, despite his impetuous nature, listened to me to some extent. We were…friends, you could say. Nonetheless, despite trying to keep him calm, after a few hours he finally got fed up and went inside – he said one marine could watch the door just fine."

"I take it things did not go well after he left? It sounds like he did betray you in a way."

"Except his decision had nothing to do with me," Garrick explained. "And it was most certainly nothing against me. Besides, the few soldiers that tried to attack our flank were cannon fodder at best. I had no difficulty in holding the rear guard by myself but that is not the point. He felt he was being snubbed and went to correct it. However, his pride meant he turned his back on his mission and the squad. It did not turn into betrayal until he started killing the other members of the squad in his rage. I do not know how the fight started, only that members of my squad suddenly started dying and when I raced in to assist, I found Zacharius standing over Tavares' broken body. For two days we fought, chasing each other through that stronghold – my only thought that whole time was to bring him to his knees before the Emperor and make him pay for his betrayal against my brothers. I went through all my ammunition and the ammunition I took from my fallen brothers and even several weapons I had taken from fallen heretics. By the end, we were hacking at each other with our combat knives and fists, which, I can tell you from experience, are not an effective means of fighting an opponent wearing power armour." Reading a space marine proved more difficult than I had imagined. At times he sounded angry, other times excited over reliving the memory, and other times I thought I had detected that slight hint of injured pride that often comes with betrayal. I wasn't sure which he was feeling more. By the end, he sounded rather light-hearted about it but I suppose recounting old battles is a favoured activity for space marines.

"No, I imagine it wouldn't be," I said with a faint chuckle. "So…I'm assuming you eventually beat him?"

"Eventually, yes. But I didn't do it alone. One of my Battle-Brothers, as it turned out, had only been wounded and tackled Zacharius while we were deadlocked. While he was knocked to the ground, I ran over to him and brought my boot down as hard as I could on his face. It's not exactly the kind of finishing move you brag about to your Battle-Brothers but it finished the job." I should not have been too surprised with how Garrick resolved betrayal issues within the Astartes. They generally solved every problem by strangling the life from it. If there was a lesson to be had, I wasn't quite sure it'd be the right one for me. Garrick must have noticed my pensive expression as he continued after a long silence, "Betrayal is not something you can just walk away from. If you ignore it, it will stay with you and you will be forever looking over your shoulder. It consumes you with hate and anger and it will cloud your judgment if you let it linger. You must find resolution and confront the betrayer - both Kael and your shooter – if you wish to be able to free yourself from it."

"Do you think…Kael might have shot me?"

"Cain had thought that possibility already," Garrick reassured. "But Kael was picked up from the watchtower you sent him to earlier in the battle. He would have had to run to and from that warehouse without being seen. Given the time constraints and terrain, that would be impossible, even for an Eldar." It also didn't make much sense for Kael to shoot me only to turn around and rescue me a few hours later. If Kael had wanted me dead, there was no doubt in my mind that Kael would've finished the job. "When we parted ways in the warehouse I left the way I had entered – nobody got past me and I did not leave any survivors. Whoever shot you would have had to go through the squad to get to you. Your assailant was definitely from within that squad." While his assessment wasn't a revelation, I had suspected as much already, it was good to know an independent source agreed with me. I thanked Garrick for his time and headed on my way but before I reached the door he stopped me. "There is…something else I had wish to speak with you about," he began sounding peculiarly uneasy. "Before we parted ways, you lost your temper. You were, however…correct. I was quick in rendering judgment and in doing so risked the stability of the mission."

"That…sounds like an apology," I said, wholly confused by this sudden change of heart. "I didn't think space marines apologized."

"Most are too proud to," he explained. "But humility and I have a long history so again…your assessment was correct." That was likely as close to an apology as I would ever get from an Astartes, which is an impressive enough feat in its own, Orks were more likely to say sorry than a space marine. Most marines would rather have killed me and sweep the issue under the rug than actually admit they might have theoretically erred in their haste.

With Cain and the rest of the regiment redeploying to relieve the Catachans on the front lines, I no longer had a senior commissar ensuring that I was following his instructions to the letter. As such, I decided to put my administrative duties on hold for a little while and take some matters into my own hands. While the Lord-General would have loathed having yet another threat dropped onto his plate, he knew there was little he could do about the Eldar at the present time. As far as we could tell, Kael was the only one and without information to the contrary we had no choice but to assume that an Eldar Warhost was not present on the planet, or at least not actively deployed. Since we could not fight an enemy that we did not even know existed, I took it upon myself to begin investigating our Eldar problem.

Personally, I would have liked to have spent my time investigating who shot me in the back but there were currently no leads or evidence and I did not wish to approach Jydais and his squad without some evidence. If it came down to it, I could easily find an excuse to execute the whole team but I did not want to shoot an innocent man – it would destroy what little reputation I had with the regiment and I ensure that I could look forward to another guardsman giving it a try.

Watz and I headed out on a little excursion into the city, prematurely releasing our centaur from the care of the techpriests (much to their annoyance). Our first stop was to the bar where I had first met Kael. The barkeep seemed to have a history with him so it was as good a place to start as any. Besides, had it not been for the barkeep we would not have suggested that Kael join the war effort, so there was a chance that the barkeep was a co-conspirator. If he was, though, then Kael obviously didn't bother letting the barkeep know that the cat was out of the bag. The barkeep was there when we arrived and one could forgive him for assuming that we were there for drinks. We talked about Kael in general for a few minutes without bringing up his true identity, which told me that the barkeep was either genuinely clueless or was really good at lying. If he did know, he should have realized within the first few minutes why I was talking about Kael and any amateur would've cracked in a heartbeat. I danced around the issue for a while to see if the man would take the bait by accident, asking about Kael's political opinions, any affiliations with civilian organizations, any peculiar behaviour from him in the past few months, and about any other individuals he might have been associated with.

Quite frankly I was surprised by how genuinely clueless the man was about Kael. If they knew each other, it wasn't to the level that I had hoped for. He seemed genuinely surprised when I finally told him that Kael was a traitor (though I left out the xeno detail since in an interrogation you didn't want the enemy to know to what extent your knowledge was). Again, if he knew something he was doing a damn good job of hiding it. Unfortunately, I did not drive across the city to leave empty handed and my patience with the barkeep was beginning to run thin. If he knew nothing then I was wasting my time but if he had some information I was going to get it from him.

"Now answer the commissar's question," Watz politely informed the barkeep while holding the man's hand firmly against the countertop with a laspistol pressed into the palm. It wasn't quite what I meant when I asked Watz to remind the barkeep of the full extent of my authority. Intimidation wasn't one of my favourite tactics (as I was severely lacking in that category) but tightening the screws had loosen the man's lips.

"You honestly expect me to believe that the same man has been coming to your establishment for nearly eight years and you know frak-all about him? I don't appreciate people insulting my intelligence…that's how people get hurt," I said with as much malice as I could make believable.

"He usually kept to himself, I swear!" the barkeep answered with understandable distress. "If we did talk it was about war stories or the local events. All I know is that he lives about three blocks up the street above his workshop. It's got a big wooden sign out front, it's impossible to miss. I swear by the Emperor, that's all I know!"

It wasn't much but it appeared to be all the barkeep knew so I called off Watz and we promptly returned to the centaur. I made a mental note to instruct the local authorities keep tabs on the man for a while, that is if the local authorities were still doing their job in the middle of a warzone.

Kael's residence was exactly where the barkeep had said – walking distance from the tavern and distinguished from the surrounding buildings by the large, hard-carved sign that hung above the door. Once again the care and fine attention to detail was evident even in the craftsmanship of the sign. "Wait a second commissar," Watz stopped me just as I was about to try and get the door open. "There's no way that xeno ditched us and didn't expect us to come snooping around here. It could easily be a trap."

"Are you volunteering to go in first?" I asked, surprised by the bout of selfless initiative.

"Normally I'd recommend Heilmit but he's not here so…might as well," Watz said with an indifferent shrug. If something did explode, chances were it'd take both of us out anyways so it didn't make a difference to me who went in first so I stepped aside and let Watz get to work. The first thing that Kael was definitely prepared for us came when Watz discovered the door had been left unlocked. It wasn't a promising sign but at least it didn't go boom. He headed inside and a few moments later he called out that everything safe. He also mentioned that there was something I should see.

Now struck by curiosity, I quickly headed in and saw Watz standing next to a small end table with a letter propped up against a luminator stick. Nothing out of the ordinary…except that it had my name on it. "Guess he knew I'd be here," I said with a sigh and picked it up. I figured it wasn't going trigger an explosion as Kael hadn't already tried killed us. "Dear Commissar Abel," I began as I read the letter aloud, "I hope you're feeling better. I figured I would to save you time and put everything you'll want in a box on the workshop table. To answer your questions; yes I was the spy; I bare no guilt about Commissar Waffens death, but I am sorry for the pain it has caused you. Many Eldar died at his hands and he has paid for his actions accordingly. And no, I do not know who shot you. Even if I did, though, I would not tell you as it is a matter that you must to solve on your own. I wish you the best of luck on your investigations. PS – feel free to help yourself to anything else in the kitchen. There's no point in letting good food go to waste. Signed, Kael."

"Great, so instead of killing us, he's just mocking us. Personally I'm not sure which I would prefer," Watz said with a hint of annoyance. The workshop mentioned was in a separate section of the building, through a heavy-duty door that had also been left unlocked for us. Inside were a number of workbenches with various tools, stone slabs, and piles of wood scattered throughout. I noticed a lot of the tools showed signs of heavy use, their blades worn and re-sharpened over many years of work. And judging by the amount of stone chips and sawdust that had been swept into the corner, the workshop had seen a lot of use. It was not quite what I had expected to see from the abode of a xeno infiltrator and I got the feeling that there was more to this Eldar than I had anticipated.

I noticed a box full of wooden items and took a closer examination of the contents, "Hmm, these look like…toys," I remarked. One of the ones that caught my eye was a simplistic carving a truck, save for an Aquila that was delicately carved onto the front of the cab.

"Toys? That fiendish bastard," Watz replied, though he sounded more sarcastic than anything. "What do you make of this?" he then asked and pointed out an unfinished stone statue of a woman standing in the corner of the workshop. "I would never be confused for an art critic…but I'd say she's kind of hot."

"Beautiful would probably be a better word Watz," I said as I approached the statue in question. They say a picture is worth a thousand words but I suspect if I had spent every word of this memoir thus far trying to describe the statue it would still fall short of painting a true picture for you. Only the waist up had been finished but what was finished was a beautiful woman immaculately drawn from the stone, head turned partly to the side with long, flowing hair tracing over her shoulder and down her back. I swear I had never before and never since laid my eyes upon something so lifeless…and yet looked as though somebody had truly been frozen in time. Every contour of her frame, every wisp of hair, every feature of her face down to the frozen sorrow in her eyes had been captured in stone. The more I stared at it, the more it looked as though it was moving and breathing like a person. It left me with a strange sense of awe and yet sadness as well.

"This must have taken years," Watz commented, looking more at the physical craftsmanship than I was. "I'm not seeing any kind of tool markings either…it looks like he had sanded it down with his hands."

"It's his wife," I said in a soft mutter when the realization hit me.

"Wife? What makes you say that?"

"It's the way she's posed…how she's turning away but looking back with sadness in her eyes. Can't you feel it too? That empty pang at the bottom of your heart when you look at something that you love with all your soul but you know it can never be yours again…because it's already gone and all you're staring at is a memory." For a brief moment, my faith wavered as I wondered how a being that could sculpt such beauty be really considered an enemy. It was not the kind of art created by a soldier in their pastime but an artist who poured their very soul into their work. I was only able to steady my resolve after recalling the famous words of Abriel Hume, 'Trust not in their appearance, for the Eldar as alien to good, honest men as the vile Tyranid and savage Orks.' Despite what appearances may suggest about him, Kael had been deceiving people for years and undermining our efforts. What he may have been did not change what he was now and right now he was my enemy.

"It's…um, just a statue commissar."

"Ugh…troglodyte…" I grumbled and walked away. "Let's just see what our friend left for us."

As the letter had promised, a box sat on one of the workshop bench and a quick look through it revealed a trove of valuable intel. Among the items were a number of maps, including those of both cities with critical weak points highlighted and notes made in his alien language; a dataslate filled with surveillance photos taken throughout the opening battle as well as what appeared to be the defensive layout of the capital city; a second dataslate filled with intercepted reports from the PDF before and during the campaign; and several data modules containing audio recordings of meetings involving Kael. One of the modules was still inside a vox record so I decided to hit the playback rune to see what kind of conversations he had recorded.

I had to call in a few favours from old friends but I was able to find a transcript of the audio recording I recovered. I've included the most significant part of the one I listened to that day.

O'Lar'shi – Your information was mistaken Eldar. Commissar Cain was not on the transport vessel that you had indicated.

Kael – Are you certain? With those helmets on I'm surprised your troops can tell each apart, let alone one human from the next.

O'Lar'shi – I was there. The only commissar present was a tiny human female. It would have been impossible to have made mistaken her for Commissar Cain.

Kael – A woman? Hmm…perhaps something is interfering with his presence in the Warp.

O'Lar'shi – Perhaps there is something wrong with the source of your information.

Kael – Reading the skeins of fate is not like reading data from your sensor probes. It is difficult even in the best of conditions. My information was correct about the assassination attempt on the governor, remember? And you wanted to just let the man die and conquer the planet.

O'Lar'shi – I lost good soldiers because of those space marines…

Kael – Yes, but now you have the governor's complete trust and you would have lost far more soldiers had you tried to take the planet by force. His trust will go a long way in securing this planet for your empire.

O'Lar'shi – He does not trust me completely.

Kael – Of course not, you're alien regardless of your good intentions. He does not trust you because he does not believe you will be able to fulfill your promises. Once you have destroyed the invader's biggest toy, his faith in your military might will be cemented. I assume you have your forces in position?

O'Lar'shi – Go worry your fortune telling Eldar and I will worry about my forces.

Kael – Just being cautious. As I told you before, I can only offer guidance…I can't make guarantees. Your strength will still need to deliver.

O'Lar'shi – My troops are strong and their resolve unshakable. These humans will know the folly of not yielding to the Greater Good.

Kael – You like saying those words a lot, don't you? (The Tau growls in the background) Just play your part Tau and you will have your victory.

O'Lar'shi – I am curious about one thing, Eldar. There is an old saying among my people, be wary of the ter'vako'la when it comes bearing gifts.

Kael – Still don't trust me? I thought we were beyond that. I suppose you have a point though…altruism is basically dead in this galaxy.

O'Lar'shi – So what do the Eldar seek to gain? My superiors might be convinced by your desire to build bridges between our people but the Aun'vre has not seen your kind on the battlefield. If you are so keen on helping, why do you not simply go to the governor himself? Why the secrecy? I may not be as long-lived as your kind but I am no fool.

Kael – Trusting the Tau is one thing but let's just say if the governor knew I was involved he would rather put this whole world to the torch than take his chances with what he would perceive my presence to be indicative of.

O'Lar'shi – So it is true then? There is no Eldar Warhost on its way?

Kael – As far as Alaitoc is concerned, these dealings do not exist. My…unorthodox methodology is not always appreciated.

"Pretty damning evidence if you ask me," I commented when I finally turned the vox recorder off. We had spent the past several minutes listening to various recordings but most provided little information save for the one between Kael and the Tau commander. It appeared that the Tau were in league with the Eldar from the very start and it was Kael's hand that guided the governor straight into the xeno's awaiting hands. Still, the evidence could not necessarily be taken at face value. With the Eldar, you could never be sure what you were looking at. While it implicated the Tau, Kael would not have left the evidence for me to find unless he wanted us to act on it. But why reveal that now? Why drive a wedge between our factions after he had helped secure the truce? It was also entirely possible that the evidence was forged, though only an analyst from the Administratum would be able to verify its authenticity.

I suspected that Kael was playing the Tau just as he had played us, playing the helpful guide while stockpiling all the evidence needed to paint the Tau as opportunistic villains. The truce would likely not survive once I brought the evidence to the Lord-General. But was that what Kael wanted? Or did he want me to think that this was what he wanted? I had to short-circuit that train of thought before it spiraled out of control and I broke my brain trying to guess Kael's intent. In the end, despite what I knew about Kael, about the Eldar, and about what he had done, there was nothing I could do except go in the direction the evidence suggested. Whatever game Kael was playing, I strongly suspected that he had already won.

"Hey, look at this Commissar," Watz said, snapping me out of my contemplative cycle. From deeper within the box he pulled out another map. It appeared to be the layout of a military bunker located some distance outside the city. It was a detailed map of the base, its layout, and the surrounding terrain. What caught my eye, however, was a scrawled note in the top corner that said 'You'll find Trevek here' and had a list of coordinates. I studied the map further while Watz continued sifting through the box's contents…until I heard a distinct 'click' sound followed by, "oh frak. Grenade!"

Words were unnecessary by that point. We grabbed what we could, Watz took the map and I snatched the vox recorder, and bolted as fast as we could for the door. We just cleared the doorframe when the grenade went off, vaporizing the box, the workbench, and scattering everything in a ten foot radius.

"Never…trust an Eldar…" Watz panted as we looked back to the scorched crater that used to be the evidence box.

"Still want to…raid the kitchen?"

Watz took a moment to think before shrugging his shoulders indifferently, "Why the frak not? Almost got blown up once already, I doubt he'd try the same trick twice."