SHIELD OF UNTRUTH
The Liminal Conquest
Progress-Class Star Cruiser (Slipstream Enabled)
Flagship Of The Fourth Sphere Expansion
‘High Commander Surestrike, most profound greetings of the T’au’va,’ said Tutor Twiceblade. His eyes were cast down and his hands were held out towards his superior in the offering gesture of the gift-well-meant.
‘The surviving teams are recovered. We have experienced the losses of two Ghostkeel warsuits and five stealth teams in total, with another three reduced below operational parameters.’
‘Your candour and precision is appreciated, as ever,’ said Surestrike. The regal figure standing in the flagship’s underslung viewing dome did not look round. ‘My thanks, loyal Sha’ko’vash.’
‘I mean not to contradict you, but it is Twiceblade now, high commander.’
‘I offer contrition. I had only recently reconciled your last alteration. Perhaps such a long stasis demands frequent change, to keep things in balance.’
The high commander still did not turn, instead staring out at the stunning view below. According to the honour guard outside, Surestrike had not left his position for an entire rotaa. He had stood motionless, seemingly spellbound by the panoramic view of the ocean planet the gue’vesa called Saltire Vex.
Twiceblade could see why. Swathes of spiralling cloud over a jade and black ocean were dotted by the tiny orange pinpricks of the human rig-settlements, each circled by screeds of relevant data on Surestrike’s vast command suite overlay.
Tutor Twiceblade knew the commander well enough to realise he was present in body and mind, but not necessarily in spirit. The journey through the sub-realm had taken a terrible toll on the commander. Ever since their re-emergence, his famous clarity of thought and deed had been compromised beyond recovery.
Some amongst the fire caste’s least circumspect were saying the surety for which the commander had been named – that confidence with which he had carved a new destiny for the Fourth Sphere Expansion – had been shaken, shattered and cast away.
‘The air caste report that the anomaly is leaving low orbit, commander. It has rendezvoused or docked with a larger craft, and is now bound for deep space. It is still baffling our scanners somehow, but the earth caste say they can still follow its heat trails.’
‘Thank you, Sha’ko’vash,’ said Surestrike. Twiceblade folded his hands over his solar plexus in the guard-against-offence at this second nomenclature gaffe, but the implied admonition was wasted. His superior did not see it.
‘That is good news,’ continued the high commander. ‘Perhaps we can reveal the anomaly’s location, and destroy it before it bears its taint to any other gue’vesa worlds. Or to any of the gue’la species, come to that. They are already corrupted a hundred times over.’
‘That is true,’ said Tutor Twiceblade. ‘Rogue mind-science is toxic to the order from which the T’au’va is born. Doubly so amongst the uninitiated.’
The commander sighed, his head hanging. ‘We cannot destroy every gue’vesa world, facility and ship, Twiceblade. Let alone every gue’la stronghold. Even should we make it back to the sept worlds, and even should we convince the aun of the righteousness of such a cause, it is not logistically possible.’
The tutor did not reply.
‘Our very empire would turn against us to ensure our failure,’ continued Surestrike. ‘It is impossible.’
‘What if we could show them the evidence, commander,’ said Twiceblade. ‘What if we could show them what we have seen?’
‘They would never believe us. Not if we had a thousand recordings of the mind-curse to prove it. To deal with this poison, we must use the tourniquet, and the heated blade.’
‘What if the curse spreads? What if we fail, and the main vector of infection spreads through another populace? These barbarian gue’la know not the meaning of quarantine.’
‘We will not fail,’ said Surestrike, still not looking round. ‘We will cauterise it before it bleeds any more of its venom into the cosmos.’
‘Should I tell the air caste to engage if they have the chance?’
‘No,’ said Surestrike. ‘Identifying particular bodily remains in a debris field is all but impossible after the macro-level trauma of a naval engagement. For now, we follow. Maximum sensor range, plus fifteen per cent.’
‘As you say, commander,’ said Twiceblade, adjusting his stance to that of the protégé-at-attention. ‘The siphon structure on Saltire Vex may still have infected gue’vesa upon it. Some of them are undoubtedly mind-cursed. Would you have us launch another strike and eradicate it completely?’
‘No,’ said Surestrike. ‘No more overt action at this site.’
‘With respect, we must stop them,’ insisted Twiceblade. ‘The gue’vesa exemplify the corruption of the T’au’va. Did I misunderstand your position on the subject?’
‘We cannot risk open attack,’ sighed Surestrike. ‘If word gets back to the sept worlds that we are slaughtering human helpers inducted into the Greater Good, the Fourth Sphere initiative is as good as lost.’
‘As you say,’ said Twiceblade, doing his best to keep his tone neutral. ‘Though perhaps, if the greatest concentration of the mind-cursed is upon the rig the gue’vesa designate Omicroid, we could engineer its destruction, and leave.’
‘There is no need. I have already assured its destruction.’
‘High commander?’
Surestrike moved a finger and slid it over a wide circular informational. He enlarged the view of the human settlement tenfold, tap-engaging satellite drones and complex starsun filters to cut through the clouds of water vapour.
Intrigued, Tutor Twiceblade approached Surestrike’s personal hex display and peered down at the crude structure. From above, its girders and supports came into focus; a skeleton made from ferrous ore, according to the earth caste analysis teams.
How the humans imagined that primitive iron structures would last amongst such a concentration of saline solution he did not know. Hundreds of such rigs dotted the ocean world’s surface, their stout legs drilled into the planet’s crust under the seabed.
‘It is hard to believe that a thick coating of paint is the only thing between these facilities and the entropy of the ocean they parasitise,’ mused Twiceblade.
‘They stand against storm and tide alike,’ said Surestrike, lifting the raised palm of the gate immovable. ‘Proud and stubborn, yet locked in a war they cannot win. There is a strange beauty in that.’
Twiceblade was about to make a neutral reply when the image of the rig suddenly exploded, blossoming into a spreading flower of orange and black flame.
‘Commander,’ said Twiceblade. ‘Was this the work of the gue’ron’sha Space Marines?’
‘No.’
‘Then you brought about its fate?’
‘I ensured it in person. My Coldstar is subtle enough to evade detection by Imperial craft, especially in an active warzone, and deft enough to place explosives at critical points.’
‘But… it was my understanding you never left this bridge, high commander.’
Surestrike finally turned, fixing Twiceblade with a strange stare.
‘I will do anything for the Greater Good, Tutor Twiceblade. But I will not turn the empire against itself, nor inflame the war between the T’au Empire and Humanity. To do so is to act against the T’au’va in a direct fashion. That is a far greater crime than allowing an abstract threat to survive. Now, if you will kindly leave me to my thoughts.’
Tutor Twiceblade averted his eyes, made the hands-clasped sign of the chagrined student, and left the viewing bridge without looking back.
High Commander Surestrike shut down the hex informationals and stared once more at the ocean vista stretching before him.
One of the recessed alcoves to Surestrike’s left slid open. He did not look round.
‘It is wise to have one who challenges your suppositions so close to you,’ said a smooth, feminine voice. ‘To have one who fears for a greater conflict, yet follows orders nonetheless.’
‘I know this,’ said Surestrike. ‘That is why I give him audience.’
‘Do you keep my counsel for the same reasons?’
‘Your guidance is invaluable, most noble Aun’Shao, in ensuring the Fourth Sphere does not become a footnote lost to history.’
‘The right words. Yet I feel there is nothing behind them.’
‘There is nothing behind my eyes, either. You said so yourself, wise one. I remember it all too well. Perhaps I have more in common with our guest in the munitions deck than I like to think.’
‘And yet you have a place in the Greater Good. An important one. Aun’Va saw something in you, and Aun’Wei before him. Your time is now, High Commander Surestrike.’
‘This I know. It is why I am here, as the figurehead of this expedition, talking to you.’
‘Then do not forget it. You have a duty to fulfil.’
The speaker in the wings of the dome made the gesture of the setting sun. With a soft hiss of an iris portal opening, she left for her own quarters.
Surestrike dismissed every drone attendant still hovering on standby, sending them away one by one with complex motions of his fingers. He stared unblinking at the vista shown on the command suite for a while longer. He paid particular attention to the tiny flames dancing above each of the surviving promethium rigs that dotted the ocean world of Saltire Vex, and the larger flame that was once Ferro-Giant Omicron. The flickering lights reminded him of something, something that made his soul ache with loathing and loss.
Then, when he was sure he was alone, he crouched down in a ball and keened in despair.