"Quickly, there down that way don't let the bastards escape!"
A voice cried out from behind the curve in the tunnel that Arsha had just rounded. The floor was slippery from some substance or other that Arsha didn't even want to think about, but she ran as quickly as her slight body could manage through the twisting pipe corridors, praying that she wouldn't lose her footing on the treacherous surface. She was sure that if she did, she would be left behind for the enemy to find. Just ahead of her Kurtzen barked a command in the gruff tongue of his native Krieg, and he and two of his men spun on their heels and lit the dark corridor red with lasfire. Arsha kept running, not wanting to know what lay at her back.
Ahead of her, a burst of bright blue light lit the tunnel, as if in opposition to the crimsonbeams fired by the Colonel's men just a moment before. By Arsha's count, that had been the fifth time Commissar Vlisk had employed that brute weapon of her's along their escape route. Twice on walls when she decided that they needed to take a more direct route to their objective, the other times... Arsha had never wanted to know what happened to a human body when it was impacted by a Powerfist and she sincerely wished she had never found out.
Rounding another corner, she was grateful to find that this time plaskrete and rebar had suffered the wrath of that barbarous weapon, and not flesh and sinew.
"Come on you lazy curs, let's give them a chase to remember!" the Commissar said, gesturing for the rest of their band through the gap she had created. As stoically as ever, the Kriegsmen took up their pistols and hand weapons and shouldered their way through the breach, implacable behind their masks. The rest of her party were less implacable, barring the grouchy techpriest who was navigating them through these tunnels, and the Battle-preacher who ran alongside him, his massive twohanded chainsword strapped to his back.
"How... how much further until we're there?" Arsha panted, taking a moment's rest while the rest of the party squeezed themselves through the hole punched into the wall by the now grinning Commissar. "I calculate that we will reach friendly territory in approximately 1.35 hours Lady-Astropath Arsha, that is precluding any encounter with heretic or xenos forces, or any cave-ins caused by incautious demolition". At that last proclamation, the Techpriest turned to glower at Serana from under his purple cowl and marched through the hole she had created, a quartet of servo skulls following him like the bridal trains she had sometimes seem up hive noble ladies' wear.
Serana laughed at the proclamation and turned to see Colonel Kurtzen rounding the corner, with only one of his men at his side.
Upon seeing this, Arsha noticed Serana's smile slip as she addressed Kurtzen.
"Damn, they got one then?" Serana asked.
Kurtzen nodded. "They are becoming more organized; we were nearly flanked down a side tunnel until 3638 noticed them and opened fire. He bought us enough time to pull back here." Kurtzen said, gesturing for Arsha to move on into the hole. Not needing to be told twice Arsha turned and made her way through the hole the echoes of her running feet drowning out the Colonel and the Commissar's conversation.
Severan Dirge hated tunnel fighting. They were dark, stuffy, confined, and filled with long corridors, like the one he was about to turn down now. But what he hated more than tunnel fighting were people who tried to hurt Gisselle. He had known her since childhood, he was charged with her protection, and most importantly, and unknown to anyone else other than an old Echlessiach, she was his wife.
When he heard the falling shells, he knew what was to come next. He had tackled Gisselle and covered her with his Carapace armored body, they had ridden out the first bombardment together.
They were lucky, the stage had been built with a raised podium to the front, and when he tackled her, they had landed behind it, giving them some cover from the murderous shells. He had rushed her away from the stage as soon as the first bombardment stopped, and he, along with the rest of his guard detachment rushed for the Chimeras, beating down or shooting anyone who got in their way.
Even now he was worried for her, despite the fact that she was in an armored carrier with half a dozen of his best men, and he was here, in the tunnels.
"Sir, the auspex has lost signal, but last reading pinged at least thirty contacts. The thing's spirit is confused in these confines' sir, and the Tau tech hasn't been distributed yet" The voice came over from behind him and to his left, his technical officer, Solyuk. Besides Solyuk and himself, ten other black armored figures stood behind him, the prey-sight sensors built into their helmets meaning that they did not have to rely on the phissing lumens above them when they inevitably gave out.
"That just means there'll be plenty for all of us" Severan murmured into his vox. Slowly, he took out a hand mirror from his belt, a present that Gisselle had given him long ago, and scanned the corridor. Seeing nothing but bare rockcrete walls and metal mesh floor, he stowed the trinket in his belt and rounded the corner. "Come on double time, we have a lot of running to do to catch up."
Kurtzen considered his options as he ran, his bolt pistol and chainsword drawn, ready to roar into use at a moment's notice. Two of his men and one of the civilian auxilia he had commandeered had fallen since he had talked with Seranna four corridors back. One of his men had been shot in a sudden encounter with a PDF kill team, the five-man force rounding on Kurtzen's rearguard of six in a close-quarters engagement. With no room for deadeye marksmanship or flashy maneuvers Kurtzen had used his sword like a bayonet, ramming the wurring adamantine toothed blade through the guts of two of the traitors, while his men had finished off the startled enemy with fists and close combat weapons, their one casualty from a missed shot that had richoched off the shoulder pad of one of his men to be redirected into the face of another. The solid round shot cracked the eye lens of the trooper's gasmask and had shot through the man's brainpan, killing him on the spot. A good death, Kurtzen had reflected, painless and in the Emperor's name.
His other man, an artillerist that Kurtzen had ordered to join him in the rearguard was less fortunate, being blown apart in a hail of blue plasma shot as he passed a junction, the handy work of one of the Tau's abominable drones. The corridor had been spattered with the blueish gunk of plasma discharge; the corridor thoroughly suppressed by the soulless machine. Kurtzen began to assess the situation, but before he could decide on a frontal charge, help arrived in an unusual form.
The techpriest, Enginseer Torquil, had emerged from the other side of the junction, the vanguard having passed before the drone had arrived. Without uttering a word to Kurtzen he rounded the bend in the junction and let loose a strange whine, which set his teeth to itching behind his mask.
Seeing that the priest hadn't been shot to pieces, Kurtzen rounded the corner, the drone a phizzing wreck on the floor of the tunnel, Torquil's cogaxe having bisected the machine as it lay prostrate.
"Can you do that again?" Kurtzen asked.
"My order has long studied the inequities of the Abominable Intelligence, Colonel, we have developed countermeasures, for the vile thinking machines" Torquil answered in the cold mechanical tone common to all techpriests.
"You did not think to inform command before this point?"
"Such techniques are novel solutions to the Abominable Intelligences employed by the Tau, barely a century old. As such the procedures are still in the field-testing stage. This is why I wished to accompany you, colonel, and to engage the thinking machines in a contained environment. Such tests are a sign from the Omnisiah that our endeavor is worthy."
With the conclusion of his statement, Torquil let out a strange warbling sound, like a plastek sheet being lashed by strong winds, a binaric chant or prayer Kurtzen surmised.
"And you can employ this weapon again?"
"It is possible, colonel. However, the protective engrams of the Thinking Machines are complex and adaptive. I cannot guarantee that the next encounter with such machines will be so decisive" the techpriest concluded as he turned on his heel and stalked back down the corridor, his collection of servo skulls following in his wake.
With a gesture, Kurtzen resumed the advance, and he and his men continued their march down the ever-dimming tunnel light.
Shas'El Throatslicer had not expected an invitation to the Etherial Aun'Sek's personal chambers, and had been surprised by the décor on display. In his experience, which was not inconsiderable for a Tau of his advanced years, Ethereal chambers were, while not quite spartan, tending towards the austere in terms of the decoration. Some well-made but humbly appointed wooden chairs and tables, a calligraphy desk in the corner and a well-used hololith station tended to be the few concessions to comfort made by the honored Aun caste, as well as a small but clean bedroom and a personal cleansing chamber. It was, afterall, Aun'Va himself who said that, "Only in a Clean mind can the Greater Good flourish, and it is only a clean body that can produce a clean mind".
The room certainly is clean. Throatslicer thought to himself, but besides from that there was little that this chamber had in common with Ethereal domiciles he had been deemed fit to visit in the past.
The chamber curved around in a circle, the floor of the chamber sumptuously carpeted with a thick, burgundy red carpet. The walls were filled to bursting with bookshelves carved from the living Jagga trees of Pech, the valuable wood of the Kroot home world alive even now as a receptacle for books and scrolls and datapads. Overhead, sweet-smelling incense wafted throughout the room, issuing from burners hanging from the ceiling chamber, vaguely reminiscent of the heathen temples kept by the Imperial savages. Around the chamber, three more closed portals were situated at the room's cardinal directions, belying a larger complex of chambers set aside for the Aun's personal use. In the center of the chamber sat a hololith projector, sheathed in more Jagga wood and surrounded by six richly appointed chairs.
But what most arrested Throatslicer's attention was the sumptuous aroma that rose even above the sweet incense, a smell that he had not smelled for decades, not since the Muritanic War against human Imperials clad in long coats.
Tanna. The savory liquid without a doubt the very best of what the brutish humans could devise, the delectable aroma issuing from a gratifyingly large samovar sitting between two of the bookshelves. Throatslicer had once survived a whole week subsisting on the stuff after an artillery barrage had trapped him and his command squad in an underground supply depot, the place mercifully well-stocked with tea-making material. It had been one of the best weeks of his life.
"I am glad that you could join me in my chamber Shas'El. As illuminating as our meeting was with your staff officers in the war room, I find a personal meeting to be more efficacious." As she said this, Aun'Sek made the Kin'Rach'Lin the slight nod of the head and raising of the right heel that characterized the sign of the ready listener.
"I am humbled by the invitation honored Aun, what is it that you wish to discuss" Throatslicer asked as he returned the gesture.
"There will be time for discussion in a moment, but please take a seat. Could I offer you some refreshments? It is my understanding that you have a fondness for this particular drink." she said as she turned towards the samovar, two tea bowls materializing in her hands as if by magic.
Taken aback by the Etherial's offer, Throatslicer quickly stammered out an answer. "That would be most acceptable honored Aun, but surely it would be more appropriate for me to serve you and not the other way around."
"Think nothing of it. We are all servants of the Greater Good, after all," Aun'Sek responded smoothly as she returned from the samovar, two bowls of steaming liquid in her hands.
She passed one over to Throatslicer and seated herself down two chairs to his right, a personable but respectful distance away. Lifting the tea bowl to his face, Throatslicer inhaled the fragrant smelling steam and then took a sip. He savored the taste for a long moment, the distinctive savor lasting long on his tongue, followed by a faint bitterness that he found immensely refreshing.
"I am glad to see that you are enjoying yourself Shas'El, I find that too many of my peers believe that devotion to the Greater Good requires absolute denial of the self. It is my conjecture that those who care for themselves in small ways can better serve the Greater Good in large ways." Aun'Sek coed, nursing her own tea bowl in her hands, but not drinking.
"I am not one to speak of Ethereal politics or philosophy, honored Aun, but I will gladly enjoy the gifts that the Greater Good deems fit to bestow on me." Throatslicer said, still a bit off put by the opulence of the Etherial's chamber.
"Now to business then. As of not three hours ago, the first of our formal ambassadorial envoys was ambushed in the square in which they landed, one of the Orcas was destroyed, and the entirety of our watercaste embassy gave all they could for The Tau'va." Aun'Sek said sadly, her head downcast as she delivered the news.
"And the firecaste escort?" Throatslicer asked with gritted teeth, bracing himself to hear the news of his fellow castemen's fate.
"Slightly better on that regard. Half were killed outright, while about a third were wounded, and a few remained unscathed. The Earthcaste's work has surely saved their lives."
"I must send my regards to the Fio. This is not the first and nor will it be the last time that their work has saved Firewarrior lives." Throatslicer stated, relieved that some of his castemen yet lived to pass on their first taste of combat against the masked men.
"And what of the enemies' casualties, were any slain during the ambush? What was their weaponry and disposition?" Throatslicer asked, his thoughts shifting back to the calling of his profession.
"Our Gue'vessa allies reached the location first. The weapons that the Imperials left there were trapped. My understanding is that the whole warehouse they were hidden in was blown up. None of their equipment or corpses survived to be examined."
"That certainly sounds like the opponents I remember fighting." Throatslicer said with a sigh.
"I assume you asked me here for my personal opinion on how we retaliate before this incident is brought to the attention of the general staff?" Throatslicer asked, already thinking of how to respond to this insult on Firecaste honor.
Aun'Sek nodded in agreement and remained silent to let Throatslicer think. He sat there for long minutes, silent except for the occasional sip of his tanna, the recent news souring the drink.
After a long time, Throatslicer spoke, "We need more information. That should be our first priority. Our best estimates of troop strength ranges anywhere from twenty to forty-five thousand men, with little idea of their armored compliment or specialist troops." As he spoke, Throatslicer's voice began to speed up, imperceptibly at first, but then getting quicker and louder as hundreds of ideas filled his head, the vast majority of them being discarded as quickly as he could conjure them.
"Our drones are our best weapon in this regard, their reconnaissance will be vital in planning out a response. We should estimate the extent of their supplies as well. They have been fighting for four days already, and any tens of thousands of soldiers should need tons of supplies. It may be feasible to starve them out at little cost in troops." Throatslicer concluded, settling himself in for the rigors of siege warfare.
It was not a tactic typically employed by the Tau, but it was long held as doctrine that the most successful battles are those won without loss.
"And what would this starving out entail, Shas'El?" Aun'Sek asked.
"If you would allow me the use of the projector, honored Aun, I could show you how the plan would work," Throatslicer said.
With a nod of Aun'Sek's head, he set to work and soon a three-dimensional depiction of Hive GrainGather was brought up on the table. With a wave of his four fingered hand, Throatslicer zoomed in on the image, fazing through the robust outer wall that surrounded the hive, and displaying an abstraction of passages and caverns, more reminiscent of a cave system than anything a Tau would deign to call a city. The blocks occupied by the enemy and the tunnels that connected them were labeled, providing a strong territorial enclave that was protected from encirclement by the edge of the hive at their backs.
Drawing some rough lines with his finger, Throatslicer traced out a rough front line, judging which blocks or tunnels could be held and which should be abandoned to the enemy. He highlighted potential ambush points and supply depots, traced lines of logistics, he even found locations to garrison his men and set aside places where field hospitals could be established.
Belatedly, he realized that he had been standing there for the better part of half an hour, and that his tanna bowl was empty, despite him not remembering having drunk any as he worked.
"And this is your proposed containment line Shas'El?" Aun'Sek inquired.
"Yes, honored Aun. This is about the rough layout of what I had in mind. If we can set up long corridors of overlapping fire, and swift lines of retreat and reinforcement, we can drive the enemy into killing grounds and choke points. The key to fighting the Gue, honored Aun, is to keep them at a distance. Much like with the Be'Gel, they are most dangerous up close" Throatslicer concluded, pleased with how his plan had come together.
"A fine work Shas'El, but I would have you draw up an offensive plan as well, in case I decide that an offensive stance must be taken. I still have representatives from the other three castes to hear and they may sway me to attack" Aun'Sek said.
"I understand, Aun. It is our doctrine that attack should thought of at all times. I will return to you with a plan by the next cycle once I have finished consulting my staff" Throatslicer said with a bow while signing the gesture of the willing servant with his hands.
Standing, Aun'Sek in return offered the appropriate hand sign that told Throatslicer he was permitted to leave.
Turning, he strode out of the chamber, the taste of tanna tee still on his tongue, and with visions of battle filling his brain.
Serana charged along at a steady pace, near the front of her detachment in the vanguard. Around her was the carnage of another skirmish, a fire team of PDF, five in all, lay splayed out at her men's feet. The smell of blood was in her nostrils, her legs and arms burned with lactic acid, and she was covered in blood, a leftover from when she had pulverized a member of the fireteam that she had, quite literally, run into when she had rounded a corner of the tunnel they were charging through.
In short, Serana was elated. The blood and pain and tiredness reminded her that she was alive, that she could still feel. She could feel the adrenaline pulsing through her veins, the chemical stimulant boosting her awareness. She could feel the anger that burnt bright hot at the traitors who had cast out the God Emperor in exchange for Xenos' false idols. And, despite her decades of commissariat training and combat experience, she could still, in a far back corner of her mind still feel fear.
Fear of dying certainly, thought that wouldn't stop her from giving her life for her Emperor if the time came. Fear of failure, a more acute fear now that she and the rest of the regiment were trapped on a hostile world with little means to resupply and no potential for escape or reinforcement. But there was a third fear which eclipsed the other two, a fear of fading. That all that she was, her very essence would be ground down or cast out, leaving her a dull emotionless husk, living only to die. She feared becoming like the men she had served alongside for the past decade and a half; she feared what had been done to the men of Krieg.
Try as she might to keep up a cheerful façade, no sane person would be unaffected after a half decade long attachment to the faceless men of a dead world. Though, unlike the dead men at her feet, these dead men could still walk and breath, and more importantly they could still kill.
It was with these thoughts that she nearly blundered past the corridor she was supposed to take, her arraignment and compliment voxed out by Kurtzen on the open vox even as he held on in the rearguard.
"Commissar, it is time to enact our plan. Form a detachment at your discretion, but take the heavy weapon troopers and the remaining gun crews. Take whatever civilians you think are most useful, priority personnel are Father Arquin, Enginseer Torquil, and Arsha. Sergeant 733218 and the remaining troopers will escort the remaining civilians back to friendly lines. If we survive, the remaining troopers in my rearguard will join you as soon as possible. Enginseer Torquil has printed out maps that denote your lines of advance, no dataslates. From this point on we are under vox silence, we never know who is listening. Die well Korpsmen, The Emperor is watching" Kurtzen concluded.
Serana considered the colonel's words. As far as plans went, Serana thought it was a good one, not the least because she would have most of the fighting men at her back, and she was already drawing up a mental short list of who she would take with her. As far as speeches went, she had heard better, but never from a Korpsman.
Her positive influence, she thought to herself with a wry smile.
'Right, Corporal 6823, you and your troopers are in the vanguard and Sergeant 33378 will be the rearguard. Civilians will be placed between the two detachments. Any that drop will be left behind, we leave in three minutes, so eat if you can, shit if you can't, and pray that the Emperor shows mercy!"
Severan was breathing heavily but evenly, his hellpistols hissing steam as they vented from overuse. Five of the invaders lay dead at his feet, while, in comparison, only two of his men were laid out in similar a state, though two more were stifling groans as they nursed injuries that they had quickly patched up with synth-skin.
Only the best for the High Marshall's guard after all. The fight had been bloody but brief, the deciding factor being a stun grenade, expertly pitched into the enemy's cover by Solyuk's skilled arm. There had been a slight pause in firing then that had allowed Severan and his men to close with the enemy, their Xiphos blades, sharpened to a monomolecular edge, making quick work of the flak coats and armored helmets of the enemy.
Still, the fight worried him. There had been several opportunities for the enemy to retreat, to save themselves and melt away from his attack, but they had stood, rooted to their position as if by magic, and maintained their fire. That was a worrying sign. There was also the silence of these men if indeed they really were men and not some strange form of cogboy automata underneath their masks. The way they refused to make a sound, even as their limbs were sliced off and their bellies slit by the blades and lasbolts of his men was more disturbing than if they had cried and begged for mercy.
Severan had had to do many unsavory things in his career, things that had made him see many men cry and beg for mercy. But never had he seen such stoicism from those who knew they were truly doomed.
'Sir, I auspex has picked up their signal again, though they are much reduced. I'm seeing maybe fifteen contacts moving at speed. They should reach the next junction in approximately five minutes sir." Sulyuk called after having retrieved his auspex from where he had stowed it on his belt.
Good, we make for that junction and set an ambush, we'll finish these wretches off soon. Go for crippling shots if you can manage it, I want some alive for questioning." Severan stated, his hellpistols feeling hot in his grasp once more.
Hey everyone, sorry this took so long to complete! I had a romantic idea to get this out on Christmas or New Years but obviously that didnt pan out. I cant promise anything in the way of a consistant upload schedule on this, but I'll try to get another chapter up this month. I hope everyone had a (belated) Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!