Hello everybody, it is the New Mandalord again.
Hey guys, sorry for the late release. CTcon is in town so I am a little preoccupied at the moment.
I don't own W40K, Gamesworkshop does.
So please read and review.
The key to victory is discipline and coordination. We must support each other as a single body, stand firm, and fire as one.
- Pathfinder Shas'el Yr'Vorn'Kha, Command Silentshadow, Pathfinder Search and Destroy Cadre.
Pathfinder Shas'Vre Yr'Scoyra'Va was relieved to put the cold at his back as he entered the barracks. He had to pull hard to close the door hard against the wind that swept down To'vash, called Astrade buy the Gue'vesa, from the Ice-Spine mountains to the north. The tau were not meant to deal with cold, and the bureaucracy in the earth caste stuck to their beliefs that the standard combat armor was perfect for environment. Scoyra knew otherwise from the frozen corpse he found when the thirty hour night set in, and if combat armor barely protected his comrades then the lighter recon armor could not protect him. Fortunately there were plenty of large mammals who were engineered for the cold, giving him food, warmth and target practice.
Three other pathfinders recently finished with their recon, bringing in trophies of their latest kills, warming their hands around the hearth fire. Six other fire warriors were bundled up tightly in their bunks. It was disappointing to see warriors of the fire caste shivering in their beds like a couple newborn. His fellow pathfinders did not shiver as much, but the human medics from cold weather planets said it was due to the nerves no longer functioning. Frost bite could kill worse than than any tyranid, and that explained why this splinter fleet was taking so long on the planet.
Before he joined the soldier at the table he took a moment to properly store his gear, a habit built from long practice. He unlimbered his rail rifle and slid it into its slot beside his bunk and set his helmet, pack, Ursadron cloak, and sheathed several blades into place. He only partially extracted himself from his armor, just enough to give him some greater comfort as he sat down at the table. More relaxed now he spilled the contents of a pouch filled with Hormagaunt teeth on the table. He started to carve small holes in the teeth his mind went as it often did to his wife Ry'wenn, who was safe back on Vior'la.
He accepted an offered glass of fortified skaal from Shas'Saal. The favored drink of the gue'las was made from fermented potatoes, or other roots, and it could be used to strip the paint off a battlesuit. It burned going down and then sat like a fiery lump in his stomach, making him sweat. He could see why gue'las on frozen worlds like the stuff. Just as he started to get comfortable the door slammed open and Gue'vesa'vre Servilus Tancus stepped inside, his expression dark.
"Care for a drink, Tancus?" Scoyra asked. Of the soldiers, he was the only one who had tensed up at the old veteran's arrival. He and the human had become good friends in the last few years. Despite Tancus's intimidating demeanor, and utter hatred for species he considered 'xenos', Scoyra found him personable when off duty.
The grizzled human shook his head. "Not today."
He looked to the interior of the barracks. Not a good sign.
"On your feet, warriors!" His voice boomed with the volume and clarity of a man who had been barking orders for decades.
Those fire warriors in their bunks lept to their feet, only one stumbled when he found himself tide-up in his own sheets. "At ease," he told them. "I have news for Commander Coldhands. In less than a week the cadre will be on the march. The Hive Mind was killed on To'Varra, now the beast are in shambles. We are being redeployed."
"Redeployed, Gue'vesa'vre?" Lin'thin asked, his eyes bleary and his expression uncomprehending. He had just awoken, but his confusion was echoed on the faces of the rest. A cadre bearing the standard of Vior'la had been fighting the beasts for two-hundred years, doing their part to cull the swarm and fulfill their obligation to defend the Empire's borders. They have been patrolling the space from T'au to Mcragge and the Nebula of Storms. Several of the soldiers present, including Scoyra, were following in the footsteps of fathers or mothers who had served. They were the 5th Pathfinders Search and Destroy cadre of Vior'la, more commonly called the Shroud of Vior'la. The planetary insignia of Vior'la was etched into their rail rifles, pulse carbines, and drones of their mixed company.
"Our venerable Commander Coldhands has been tasked by his uncle, Commander Firesoul, to take the fifth and cull the swarm on this planet, and the remaining three." He paused to allow his words to sink in. "A few days from now we will deal with the Hive Lord forces in the lower tundras, making it easier for Commander Coldhand's forces to move in. This should prove a greater challenge than patrolling a border that hasnt been threatened in four thousand years."
"Several off the soldiers looked excited, even eager, and began to talk among themselves. Scoyra felt the blood drain from his face. Scoyra pulled the veteran human aside and said quietly, "I thought we took commands from Shas'nel Uil'Seth."
Tancus sighed, glancing over Scoyra's shoulder, but the others were preoccupied by conversation about the news. He said, "Fireblade Shadowspear believes a full out attack on the Hive Lord is suicide and a waste of lives."
"Which it is."
Shadowspear was once a great pathfinder in his youth. Before his promotion he was considered to be reckless and daring, but now he is regarded as a cunning tactician, his unconventional methods and disregard for protocol have caused much trouble and made him many enemies among the military hierarchy.
"Regardless, this task must be done eventually. As pathfinders, it is our duty to find the enemy, report their movements and nature, and thin their numbers to minimize the main cadre's losses."
"Is the commander joining us?" Scoyra asked bitterly.
"Watch your tongue, Vre." the human's voice had become dangerous. "I wont have you disparaging our commander in public. Fireblade Shadowspear fights in the commander's stead, if that makes you feel better. Where he goes, we follow."
"I'm sorry," Scoyra said, abashed. He changed his tact. "Could I be transferred?"
He saw the confused look on the human's face and added, "Ry'wenn carries our first child, a daughter." Tancus knew Ry'wenn, who had also been a Shroud of Vior'la before her pregnancy. "She's due in two months. I just want to see my daughter born."
Tancus's expression softened. Any leader of a mixed gender cadre had to deal with the opposite kind of disciplinary problems - the kind arising from lovers' quarrels, jealousy, and the occasional pregnancy. Scoyra and Ry'wenn were apart of the latter. Scoyra knew Tancus had a family of his own, with two healthy sons. Still, the soldier shook his head. "I am happy for you and wish your family fortune, but if the cadre marches, so do you, Exceptions cant be made."
Scoyra frowned and said, "You've heard the rumors. Casualties among the pathfinders fighting the Hive Minds are high. You know as well as I do that the hunter pyskers use us as cannon fodder, and Coldhands surrounds himself with them!"
"Rumors be damned!" Tancus retorted. He seemed more sergeant than friend. "You know the stakes of this. The tyranids will consume this sector. We fight to stop this. Do you want me to let you sit safely on Vior'la when others are dying for our survival? I suggest you change your attitude, Vre." With that he turned and left.
Scoyra looked to his rifle in the rack alongside the others. He was one of the best marksmen in the cadre, but he had never fought a Hive Lord before. He tried to find the piety Tancus spoke of, that willingness to sacrifice himself. All he could think about was his wife's face and her pregnant belly, rounder with each passing day. He heard how others joked on how people who talked about their families or loved ones too much were normally the first to die, and he would be damned if he became that joke.
They did not notice as he took his gear from his bunk and stepped out the door into the cold night. The resent snow storms had past, leaving the old fortress covered in heavy packing snow, and the two moons reflecting off of surface made the landscape look like midday in an eerie blue. If he looked up he could see the hideous scar of the Hive Fleet that stretched from one horizon to the other, while in the distant there was nothing but dead bodies and white capped mountains.
He found himself repeatedly sheathing and drawing his blade, an old habit he acquired during long watches. At first it meant that he was nervous, but after warfare with the Orks and horrors of Chaos it became something to pass the time with. His mind quickly drifted back to Vior'la and Ry'wenn, how he wished he could return to her and leave service. He wanted to hold his daughter in his arms, tell her that he loved her, and watch as the boys fought for her affection. But most importantly, he wanted to go home and not die in a ditch just to be food for the swarm.
The snow shifted and exploded into clouds. Three Trygons, all the hideous dark blue of frostbite, came up from the powder, teeth and claws poised to kill. All thoughts of home were dashed aside as Scoyra pulled pulled his blade from the scabbard, white lightning crackling. Over years of campaigns, Scoyra's sword had become a part of him, an extension of his will made manifest in in arcs of glittering blue aura on adamentium. These beasts, The Y'he Fio, were no match for him; they could only die, falling in plumes of crimson beneath the scything sweeps of his blade.
The beasts knew no fear, hard not too when they towered over even the mighty Carnifex, and made him look insignificant, but they also knew no strategy as well. The first died when Scoyra dodged its lunge and ran his blade straight through the brain. The second confused the first's death spasm as a sign of life and tried to scythe the Tau in fourth, but Scoyra used the dead tyranid's lifeless body as cover and opened the beast's throat. Scoyra enjoyed the death cry as the Trygon thrashed about and ultimately died in the snow. The last was clearly the smart one, allowing its two comrades to die in order to study their adversary.
"I know you cant speak," Scoyra growled as he and the beast circled each other. "But I am Vre Yr'Scoyra'Va! Pathfinder, and killer of your kind, now come get some you bug!"
The beast's large body stopped, but the shifting in the now showed the real movement. Thick carapace of shifting plates struck into him with enough force that the wind was knocked out in one gasp. He was thankful it was the blunt part and not the tip, that could skewer a Space Marine Terminator, but the utter cold of the planet had broken it off and turned its body to hard glass. The beast smashed its tail down into the snow in order to kill Scoyra, but the tau had enough air in his lungs to get him to dodge out of the way. With a blur of blue, the tail was sliced off and the beast roared in pain. It was soon encased in blinding white light as all of the Pathfinders and firewarriors, some fully armored while others were in their underclothes, open fired on the beast. This made a momentarty distraction for Scoyra to go for the throat...
Three Trygons laid dead at the Tau's feet, cheers all around him, but all Scoyra could hear was a muting roaring in his ears. He sucked in a beath. He was a soldier of Vior'la, of the Empire, one of the First Spheres own, apart of the Shroud of Vior'la, not a coward. He thought on what Tancus had said, and again of his unborn daughter. What would she inherit if the Empire was gone? What future would she have if these beasts succeeded?
He felt nothing but dread at the thought of rushing toward his likely end. His mouth was dry with sorrow at the thought of never seeing his daughter. But he also felt a duty to Vior'la and the Empire. He heard footstep behind himand sheathed his blade. He walked towards the barracks that would not be his home much longer, certain in what he would do.
He would fight for his empire and for his family.
Ry'wenn tucked her daughter into bed and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. At the door of her room she turned and looked at her daughter, marveling at how much the three-year-old girl already looked like her. She had the same dark, shoulder-length hair and the thin, angular face. Her eyes were closed now, but she knew they were the dark and sharp... just like Scoyra. And though he was drifting off to sleep, her expression was still unusually mischievous and intense for a child her age.
She sighed and turned away. Ry'wenn often worried about the effect her daughter's turbulent childhood would have on him. Growing up without a father was difficult enough, but the first few years of her life had been scarred by war and terror.
After the defeat of the Hive Mind, Ry'wynn, like most other citizens of the Empire, had hoped to enjoy many decades of peace while their loved ones came home or sent for them when the sector was safe to colonize once more. Instead, a group of rouge Tau had broken away from the Empire, plunging the empire once more into civil war.
Led by a eatheral named Aun'El Shii'Kias, the rogue tau turned to the teachings of the Mad Ethereal Aun'Va. Shii'Kias took the name Mont'au, and his fellows called themselves the Conclave and began a systemic purge of the Empire. Hunting down those who swore loyalty to Farsight's new regime, killing them by the tens by thousands. Their relentless pursuit almost unbalanced the structure of the Empire.
Alone, she dared not challenge Mont'au and his followers. Instead, she had focused on keeping her daughter alive. It had been three new commanders who had taken up the cause in order to preserve the Empire - Commander Pureblade, Gue'vesa Sara Opal; Commander Sunspear, Shas'O Karo'shan; and Commander Shadowstrike Myr'oasis. Each emerged with their own powerful forces that decimated the Conclave forces. Shadowblade brought the most discipline and trained fire warriors; Sunspear had the newest and greatest battlesuits, gunships and Titans; while Purestrike had the best pathfinders and connection with the Kroot.
And now one of these commanders - hero to many, villain to some - was sitting in the living room of Ry'wenn's apartment, patiently waiting for her to finish putting her son to bed.
"She's asleep," Ry'wenn said as she returned, speaking softly.
"She's beautiful," Scoyra, Commander Shadow, answered, adding, "She looks just like you."
"I don't recall being that serious as a child."
"No, they called you the Mont'au Stare, if I recall," Scoyra said, but he could feel his wife's death glare bearing down on him. "Unfortunately for them, they had no idea what they missed out on." He smiled nervously.
"You can go in to see her. She is your daughter."
"I know I can... It's just... I don't know anything about her. Three years without me in her life, I would appear as a stranger. I don't even know her name."
"Well her name Kyan'la, like the flower - which she hates. She enjoys running, playing and bossing the boys around. I fear our daughter might be heart-breaker when she is fully grown."
"I'd prefer her doing the heart breaking rather than being broken."
"Spoke like a true father."
He wrapped his arms around Ry'wenn, holding onto to her tighly. She held rigid at first, but eventually calmed into his embrace. He was alive, and with her once more.
Author's Notes
Hey guys, hoped you enjoyed this one.
I was inspired a bit by the Shadowsun novel, which did talk about Tau families. I wanted to do something along the lines of that.
So I hope you enjoyed.