Hexpod 5-Ores’Mesma, Startide Nexus, Nem’yar Atoll
Shadowsun lay as still as death in her salvesuit, staring at the data display screens around her bed with a mounting sense of desperation. The thick layer of medical apparatus that clung to her from top to toe was uncomfortable to say the least. She missed her battlesuit interface keenly; that at least was dry. Though the salvesuit too allowed a free range of movement, it was permanently slick and wet on the inside, exuding a mnemonic unguent that learned and adapted to her biorhythms as it healed. It felt awful, as if she were trapped inside some repulsive myelin sheath, but she had no choice but to put up with it.
Upon their emergency evacuation and return to Startide Nexus nearspace from Pekun, the earth caste had brought her back to consciousness and explained that her condition was worsening. She had insisted upon being quarantined – after all, being airtight, the salvesuit was an isolation measure in and of itself. The med-personnel had nodded as if she had given sage counsel, but she had a feeling that they would have insisted on her wearing it either way.
The tickling feeling in her chest, her throat, and the inside of her mouth had grown steadily worse since the battle at the Palace Mosaical. Since then a long, white strip of stem cell dispensers had clung to her ventral line, a needle-legged centipede that ran from her chin all the way down to her navel. It was a rare prototype made by a contemporary of Kejata’s, its use unsanctioned by the council of high scientists, but according to her medical overseers it was the main thing keeping her alive.
She had seen a little of the data the earth caste had amassed on her affliction, and it made for disturbing reading. Not the horrible, unexplained somnambulism that had affected so many, for she had full control of her faculties. It was quite another phenomenon.
Shadowsun was not the only one to be suffering from the same appalling malady after the saturation bombing of the Palace Mosaical. In the next bier along was Calmstone, one of the very few who had also contracted the unnamed disease and survived. She was at the first stages of the infection, perhaps having only had a minor exposure to it; Shadowsun, by contrast, was caught in its teeth, and was holding onto consciousness through sheer force of will. It was not something she lacked.
Together the two fire caste officers had been far from idle, even in their repose. At Shadowsun’s request, a dozen gaze-activated screens had been installed around the ceiling of the room, each showing a different aspect of the wars unfolding across the system. Even now they were assessing, amassing conclusions, and coordinating.
‘I suppose it is fitting,’ said Shadowsun, her breath coming as if through a tiny glass tube, ‘that the pioneers of the new frontier encounter the aged spectre of disease.’
‘As you say,’ said Calmstone. She fought back a cough, then gathered herself. ‘Unfortunate, then, that it should claim the one most likely to save the entire expedition.’
‘Fortune has little to do with it,’ said Shadowsun. ‘That giant of a creature…’
She trailed off.
‘Trust in the earth caste,’ said Calmstone. ‘They will see us through.’
‘Of course,’ said Shadowsun. ‘Of course.’
Early on in the formation of the T’au Empire, shortly after the ethereal caste had appeared to save them from self-destruction and anarchy during the Wars of the Fio’taun Plateau, the earth caste had made it a point of pride to wipe out every known form of disease from t’au society. With impeccable dedication they had eradicated them one by one, turning their diamond-sharp scientific focus to the best solution one after another. With the castes united in their ultimate goal of furthering the t’au race, enacting the cures had been a simple matter of logistics.
Since then there had been dozens of generations born that had no conception of plague in anything but the most abstract of terms. The t’au of Shadowsun’s generation looked at the very notion with pity and distaste, something that non-sentient and unenlightened races had to deal with as punishment for their own regressive attitudes and lack of empathy. The cures and antidotes for debilitating, self-replicating diseases of all kinds were often first amongst the bargaining chips used by the water caste whenever they brought another world into the embrace of the Greater Good. That alone had won entire planetary populations to their side, seeing them bolster the T’au’va soon afterwards.
But no matter what the earth caste tried, no matter how inventive, thorough or resourceful they were in their solutions, her body was slowly breaking down. The only solution they had found was to regularly replace the tissue that was deliquescing with stem cells. She felt a desperate, awful sense of horror and denial. It was as if her own shadow, dragged through rot and entropy, had climbed inside her to infect her every cell, and was intent on killing her from the inside out.
No matter. She had work to do.
A thousand possibilities played out on the system defence grid displayed above her, the distributions and stellar diagrams moving and overlapping as she delved ever deeper into the myriad layers of cause and effect. She had practised such detailed thought exercises for years, and had always found them a great method of extracting the best course of action from a disastrous situation.
There was so much, though. So much collapsing, so many warzones falling apart through lack of resource, and with the kor’vattra so thinly spread she could see no way to put them right.
‘How are you feeling, high commander? Can I help you in any way?’ Her command drone glided forwards from his habitual lurking place behind her head, turning his broad disc a full rotation and letting a glimmer of coloured lights cascade across his rim by way of greeting.
‘A pleasing display, faithful helper,’ said Shadowsun. She was surprised to find she actually meant it. It was the closest thing the drone had to a bedside manner, and on some strange level she was glad of it. ‘I am recovering, I think, or at least am stable. No doubt the kor’vattra presence in-system has increased dramatically since I was last here.’
‘Ah,’ said Oe-ken-yon. ‘That is not, in fact, the case. The nearest reinforcement fleet was waylaid by a be’gel ambush point nine decs ago.’
She swallowed down a painful wad of mucus in her chest, taking a deep breath before continuing. ‘Calmstone, do you think our resource allocation could be optimised?’
‘Perhaps, high commander,’ answered her Fireblade companion. ‘I must admit that I took the liberty of analysing it over your last sleep cycle.’
‘Your conclusions?’
‘We are hard-pressed in the Thaxaril and Ennua systems, both under attack by a significant spaceborne presence of the be’gel, commonly called orks by our allies. Provided their attack does not reach the critical mass required for an orkoid crusade, the forces assigned to them should be sufficient.’
‘And elsewhere?’
‘The Chalnath Expanse has repeated reports of strange bio-forms amongst the Imperial populace, some of which are far beyond the usual mutation spectrum of their species. Footage captures of extreme discolouration, cranial protrusions, and even extra limbs that echo the form of the y’he are becoming ever more frequent, especially in the Yo’vai and Kor’tal annexes. We cannot relax our cordons there.’
‘As to the annexation of Imperial space?’
‘The humans remain troublesome and unpredictable as ever,’ said Calmstone. ‘That in itself is not of major concern, for the water caste are well versed in pacification through non-military means. It is the incidences of so-called miracles that I find most difficult to explain. There appear to be no visible sources of the phenomena that their so-called “saints” are able to manifest on occasion where the gue’la military take their stands.’
‘It troubles me also,’ admitted Shadowsun. ‘Though I am given to understand that our brethren upon Mantra Primau are undergoing their own investigations.’
She could hold the urge back no longer, and fell into a wracking coughing fit, pain shooting through her chest as if the splintered branches of some brittle tree were shaking inside the meat of her torso. Slowly, summoning all her focus, she forced the spasming to stop, just lying still for a moment before continuing.
‘What do you make of the fleet inbound to our position, Oe-ken-yon?’
‘Nothing conclusive,’ he admitted, bobbing his disc side to side. ‘They have kept in relative proximity. On those rare occasions we have taken the flagship’s shields down, we have been unable to inflict meaningful damage. These are no normal ships, even by the Imperium’s standard. One only has to take a remote view to appreciate that. I have the relevant footage.’ A light winked on his rim, and a new data symbol flashed on the largest overhead display.
Shadowsun steeled herself. She hated the sight of the things, but duty came first. She eye-slid the air caste hexes marked with a red border to the front. The image of several massive, spacegoing cathedral-ships clad in rust and rot splashed across the displays in grisly detail.
‘With the Fourth Sphere’s resources so badly depleted and ours already locked in the wars for the periphery of the sector, we have stretched our optimum dispersal to its limit,’ said the drone. ‘We cannot rely on reinforcements to blunt the spear they are thrusting towards us. Instead we will have to find a way to do it ourselves before they reach the Startide Nexus.’
‘The Kauyon is in place,’ said Calmstone. ‘All that remains is to close the jaws. But we will have only one chance, and if we fail, the entire T’au Empire may be infected with these super-plagues.’
‘As you say. If I have to give my life to hold back this… this supernatural threat from the sept worlds, then that is what I will do. First, of course, we must seek the counsel of the ethereal caste.’
‘Have Aun’La and his entourage made dock at the Nexus, Oe-ken-yon?’ asked Calmstone.
‘Just this dec,’ said the drone. ‘That is what I came to tell you. They have sent me a communion request. Are you feeling capable of a remote Elemental Council? It has been ratified, given your condition.’
‘What other choice do we have?’ asked Shadowsun.
‘Well,’ said the drone. ‘None, in truth.’
‘At least the Kindred Soul will be less likely to attempt murder this time,’ said Calmstone quietly.
‘There is more to that outburst than you realise,’ said Shadowsun. ‘But if the ethereal caste is here, and ready for an audience, it can wait. One moment, please.’
Her companions waited as she gathered herself, revisiting memories of better days in her youth until she had some semblance of her old confidence back.
‘Patch them through when their symbols reach gold, Oe-ken-yon.’
‘Establishing communion now.’
The multiple displays above her and Calmstone went to holding screens for a moment before filling with familiar faces. There was High Magister Rivertell, clad in an ornate, high-necked gown trimmed with stylised waves and ripples, his long face creased with concern. Fio’O Kejata wore simpler attire; the high scientist nodded at her and made the linked thumbs of mutual respect. She had come to visit Shadowsun in person – albeit in a hazard suit – only two cycles ago. Admiral Horizonchild seemed almost comically youthful amongst their company, especially given that the Kindred Soul in the hex next to him was an ancient, blindfolded gue’vesa woman whose blue-black skin was as wrinkled as a peach stone. Last to unfold, of course, was the image of the council’s ethereal delegate, Aun’La. He looked at Shadowsun with a great well of sadness in his eyes.
‘My friends, my fellow seekers of truth in the T’au’va,’ he said. ‘It is a sad day to greet you in this fashion, but urgency demands it. I hereby suspend our previously established formalities that we may reach an accord all the quicker.’
Gold symbols of assent flickered on the delegates’ images. Shadowsun was quick to send one of her own.
‘First I must introduce to you the council’s new Kindred Soul. Sadly, Ven Tah Regah of the nicassar proved to have a deep-seated need for conflict, so in her absence I present to you our honoured guest Makendra Vella. She prefers to be blindfolded unless absolutely necessary. As an Imperial wise in the arts of mind-science, she finds too much visual input confusing to her inner calm. Her knowledge of the esoteric, however, is impressive, and she speaks under my aegis.’
The Kindred Soul nodded, her hands unfolding in a passable sign of precipitous meeting. ‘I am called Makendra Vella of the Barolyr Gue’vesa. I bid you fortune as you go forth in the name of the sacred T’au’va.’
‘Impressive gestural vernacular,’ whispered Oe-ken-yon, ‘for a human.’ Shadowsun managed a thin smile, reaching over to push his disc away as far as she could without moving her head from the sensor above her.
‘Let us assess our current scenario with regard to the Nexus itself,’ said Aun’La. ‘High commander, I know you are indisposed, but you have the most field experience by far. Would you be able to summarise the Nem’yar Atoll situation for us?’
Shadowsun felt something aching in her chest. She drew a deep breath and forged ahead nonetheless.
‘We are engaged on a dozen fronts, with the vast majority of fleets and cadres already allocated. The most pressing concern to my high command is not the ork invasions coreward of our position, nor the rising Imperial belligerence, nor even the ominous hints of the y’he having an eventual presence in this swathe of space. It is the fact the gue’la fleet approaching the Startide Nexus seems resistant to our naval assault.’
‘Something of an understatement, I feel,’ said Admiral Horizonchild. ‘Our fleets are finding it all but impervious.’
Shadowsun cast him a sharp glance, and he paled, motioning her to continue.
‘In conjunction with the gifted pilots of the air caste, I have attempted to lead their elements away, disperse them, and scatter them across a wide series of engagements. Still their core remains resolute. However, we have elements in place for a decisive strike as soon as they break formation to pass through the gate.’
On the hex bearing the icon of the air caste, Admiral Horizonchild made the sign of unfortunate truths.
‘Is that not leaving it dangerously late?’ said Aun’La. ‘I have… concerns.’
‘The fact is,’ said Surestrike, eyes boring into Shadowsun’s own, ‘we have failed to destroy the flagship of the encroaching fleet, or even to misdirect it. In taking the metastrategy recommendations of High Commander O’Shaserra, called Shadowsun, we have allowed the invaders to surge forth towards their original objective.’
Shadowsun felt her eyes narrow, but said nothing.
‘We have given them a full eighth of an astronomical unit in which to advance,’ continued Surestrike, ‘all in the name of a trap that has yet to be sprung. There are those amongst my sphere who believe that given the wider situation, the high commander’s Kauyon might not bring its teeth to bear before they are able to assault the Nexus itself. It may be that when we level our strike, it is not enough.’
‘Is that fair to say, O’Shaserra?’ asked the ethereal. ‘Would a decapitation strike of Mont’ka have yielded better results than the traps of Kauyon?’
Shadowsun found her blood running cold. It was a reductionist version of events, but the threat was still at large – and the occupiers had made planetary raids on the worlds closest to their trajectory in the meantime.
‘There is truth in it,’ she admitted.
‘Worse still,’ said Surestrike, ‘these intruders have used the time we gave them to introduce a virulent contagion into the ranks of our allies – and from there, those of our own kin. We have burned out the infection where we could, but it spreads nonetheless.’
‘This is unheard of,’ said Aun’La. ‘High Scientist Kejata, surely a cure for this disease is within our reach?’
‘Sadly not, honoured one,’ said the earth caste supremo, her fingers interlacing palm upwards to make the Treatise Unfurled. ‘There is more than one contagion afflicting our ranks at the present time. Thus far, the exact nature and best treatment of these viruses remain unknown to us.’
‘No biological assailant is above the aegis of the earth caste,’ said Aun’La. ‘This is well known.’
‘My personal theory is that they are not true diseases as we know them, but phenomena born of the dimension known to our gue’vesa allies as the immaterium. This would explain their highly aggressive and unorthodox manner of propagation.’
‘That being?’ asked Aun’La.
‘The necrotising plague that the high commander and her closest advisors have contracted appears virulent, but within our power to hold at bay. Three other contagions have come to light since the raids on Pekun and Dexia, the first being an advanced form of palsy, the second a haemorrhage-based contagion, and the third a drastic expulsion of bone matter.’
Shadowsun shuddered despite herself. On her first return to consciousness after the battle on Pekun, she had witnessed the latter disease in the healsphere across the hexpod facility’s floor. The cracking of skeletal matter was one thing, the vivid image of spines of bone bursting through flesh seared into her memory, but the screams, shrill and desperate, had been the worst. They had seemed to go on for an age before the earth caste technicians had pulled the plug.
‘T’au’va be true,’ swore the ethereal. ‘We, as a society, should be past this.’
‘Though horrific in the extreme, these latter ailments have at least responded to airtight protocol and advanced quarantine tactics. The vast majority of the affected are being attended to only by drones. Those who fall beyond recovery are quarantined, and their remains are incinerated immediately upon death.’
‘Please,’ said Aun’La, ‘though we sympathise with your plight and that of your wards, it is not those lesser afflictions we speak of. We have not much time. Tell us of this so-called Slumbering Plague.’
‘We have done our best to keep knowledge of that particular phenomenon from becoming widespread,’ said Kejata reluctantly. ‘Yet word travels, almost as fast as the disease itself. It affects the mind more than it does the body, causing the sufferer to fall into a state of deep and impenetrable delta-wave slumber. When in this fugue state, the sufferer’s normal limits on physical strength seem to be suspended.’ She paused, looking uncomfortable. ‘If anything, their prowess is dramatically enhanced.’
A memory bubbled up like swamp gas from the murk of Shadowsun’s ordeal on Pekun. She could see it in her mind’s eye with horrible clarity, one of the afflicted ripping an earth caste worker’s arm clean from its socket before whipping it around with desperate energy as if they were fighting off a horde of invisible assailants.
‘And the vector?’
Nervous, Kejata fiddled with something in her thick-fingered hands that looked like a childhood toy.
‘It appears to spread spontaneously,’ she said, touching her forehead with pinched fingers to indicate the best-of-all-poor-conclusions, ‘and to manifest the night after a severe nightmare. I believe the implantation event is tied to a fear response, and those fears are brought about through learning of the disease’s existence.’
‘So the vector is memetic rather than physical,’ said Shadowsun.
‘That is the latest theory, high commander. It does not rely on physical contact or even airborne transmission. Yet it is viral in its spread.’
‘I see. And do you have any theories as to how to deal with such a curse?’
‘I do not,’ said Kejata. Her tone was so tight it was almost choked.
‘Anyone else on this council?’ asked Aun’La. ‘Makendra Vella, you are here to provide insights that we t’au might otherwise miss. How best to contain and eradicate this sleep-borne plague?’
‘At this point, there are certain extreme measures that the Imperium would consider.’ The blindfolded woman was careful as a finger gingerly probing a rotten tooth.
‘I know that of what you speak,’ said Aun’La. ‘The Arkanusha Purge. The measure they call Exterminatus.’
‘Indeed. Combined with a comprehensive shipping annulment and comms blackout, that would stop the word from spreading. But given that it is the spectre of just such excessive, inhuman measures that led me to my faith in the sacred T’au’va, I would not recommend their use.’
‘Anything else come to mind?’ asked Horizonchild. ‘Perhaps something that would not rip the heart out of the entire Nem’yar Atoll?’
Makendra Vella inclined her head, just a fraction. ‘They say to tackle the disease rather than the symptom, do they not? Tackle it at its source?’
‘Rustic wisdom,’ said Aun’La. ‘But perhaps, in this case, relevant.’
A great tension welled up inside Shadowsun. Then, like a river held back too long by a cracking dam, it spilled forth.
‘I believe the source of this contagion to be allies of the gue’ron’sha that hail from another dimension,’ said Shadowsun. ‘A breed that appear to not only linger in a stage of advanced disease, but to also be formed from it. They are largely immune to physical law. Our weapons proved useless against them more than once, despite their having no armour, protective equipment, or defensive tech of any kind upon them.’
Utter silence.
‘As such, the contagions they carry may be similarly unusual, and likely impervious to our scientists’ efforts. I encountered several of them upon Pekun.’
‘This would be after your illicit meeting with the kroot prisoner of war, Opikh Tak,’ said Aun’La, ‘formerly of this council and now disgraced to the point of permanent imprisonment.’
Shadowsun felt a cold knife of fear in her heart.
‘You know of that, then,’ she said before she could stop herself.
‘I have reviewed the footage of it. Footage from your own command drone, in fact.’
Shadowsun looked sidelong at Oe-ken-yon. His colourful lights were gone; in fact, he looked completely inert.
‘Furthermore, I believe it was your decision to interrogate Tak without permission that has led us to this point. A point where not only the Nem’yar Atoll is in critical danger, but perhaps even the home worlds in core sept space.’
‘No,’ said Shadowsun. ‘We still have time.’
‘If your expedition was intended as some manner of avant-garde Kauyon, it has proven extremely ill-judged.’
‘It lent me insights that may prove vital.’ She paused for a moment, as much to get her breath back as to make her point. ‘Not only in the cauterisation of this infection we now face, but perhaps even in our understanding of the cosmos beyond our own frame of reference.’
Aun’La’s eyes became sad, as if she had made up his mind for him.
‘That knowledge is the province of the ethereal caste, high commander. Out of respect for Master Puretide you have been given more leeway than any other of your rank, but such matters you do not define. Nor will you.’
‘Of course,’ said Shadowsun, averting her eyes. ‘I offer contrition, noble one, but I must finish what I started.’
Aun’La looked at her for a long moment.
‘I am afraid to say your unfortunate exposure to the Pekun contagion means you must concentrate on recovery, high commander. From this point on, Commander Surestrike will take over your role in coordinating the defence of the Nem’yar Atoll.’
‘As you wish,’ said Shadowsun. Her chest felt as if something pulled at it, deep inside. Whether it was the device attached to her fighting the plague festering within her, or the pain of her swift demotion, she could not tell.
Either way, without the air caste to close the trap in time, her system-wide Kauyon had failed.
‘You absolutely must remain under the treatment of the earth caste until your full recovery, O’Shaserra,’ said Aun’La. ‘Your survival is vital to the propagation of the Greater Good.’
Commander Surestrike made the diamond sign of wisdom made manifest. ‘I concur with the most gracious ethereal.’ Shadowsun swore she could see satisfaction in his eyes as he continued. ‘Too many chances have already been wasted as a result of your decision to enact your favoured metastrategy of the Patient Hunter, O’Shaserra. As acting high commander, I prohibit you from expending another t’au life in this war effort.’
‘You cannot impose that restriction,’ she said. ‘I do not answer to you.’
‘For the moment, that is true,’ he replied. ‘Though I have the highest authority save that of the ethereal caste in matters of the Fourth Sphere’s dispersal. The plague of Pekun is becoming widespread due to your laxity, and a split authority will only slow us further. You are welcome to summon your own troops from the theatres in which they are engaged, of course.’
‘You know as well as I they will not reach us in time to defend the Nexus!’
‘I cannot speak for them,’ said Surestrike. ‘Nor for our gifted pilots.’
‘The reinforcements have been delayed! You know this!’
‘That is a matter for the air caste alone. Be glad it is not the Malk’la you face this day.’
‘So you sideline me,’ she said. ‘Just as the moment is darkest.’
Horizonchild spoke, and Kejata over him. Surestrike raised his voice to continue. Suddenly, everyone was talking at once.
‘Be silent,’ said Aun’La.
The delegates stopped speaking instantly.
‘I care not who orchestrates the victory,’ said the ethereal, sighing heavily. ‘Only that we are victorious. Surestrike, you will have your chance at high command. You are to coordinate with the air caste, engaging the foe at range as soon as our naval reinforcements arrive. Only by minimising the danger these plagues pose to us can we hope to keep what we have established here.’
‘Of course,’ said Commander Surestrike, his smile set just so.
‘O’Shaserra, you are to commit yourself to a full recovery. You are no use to us on the threshold of a self-inflicted death. Please return to health as swiftly as you can, and leave the warzone once more in Commander Surestrike’s hands.’
She forced a smile, then, though in her soul she was falling fast.
Aun’La stared at her hard, then Surestrike.
‘Do you comprehend the gravity of these strictures, commanders, and the fact you will be subject to Malk’la should you transgress against them?’
‘I do,’ said Shadowsun.
Surestrike made the gesture of complete understanding, staring at her as if she were a hated foe. ‘As do I.’
‘Good.’
Part of Shadowsun’s world toppled away as the ethereal put his palms together in a gesture of conclusion.
She felt something, then, under the wrenching, sickly pain in her chest. It was a deep and galling feeling she had only ever experienced long ago, during her first mistakes on Mount Kan’ji, but never in public, and never to this extent.
Disgrace.
Perhaps fifteen microdecs had passed since the council had disbanded. Still Shadowsun felt like the acid of her multiple stomachs was about to erupt and overflow into her mouth. She sought old routines to help her assimilate the information, trying to fight her panic down. Recall, assess, view from multiple standpoints. Yet even these, even attaining that old familiar territory of emotional detachment, could not overcome the gnawing feeling that was eating away at her.
‘You should not blame yourself,’ said Calmstone from the bed next to her. ‘You acted in accordance with Master Puretide’s teachings.’
‘Who else to blame, then?’ said Shadowsun. ‘In the end, even his insight was not enough to help me.’
‘A rushed conclusion can do more harm than failing to act at all.’
‘These invaders go as they please, Calmstone. That should not be… That cannot be allowed. We must disrupt them somehow, before they pierce the Nem’yar Atoll and bring these horrific plagues to the core septs.’
‘To trust in the other castes would hardly be misplaced,’ said Calmstone. ‘Especially given the spaceborne nature of the threat. The kor can take care of their fleet, and the fio will stymie the spread of these diseases.’
‘They would have done so, by now, if they were capable of it. Their efforts are bent towards quarantine and reduction of impact alone. We know this better than most.’
‘There may be some truth in that,’ said Calmstone. ‘Yet I feel sure they will unlock the relevant sequence soon enough. They intimated as such.’
‘They give us hope purely to engender a psychosomatic response,’ sighed Shadowsun, ‘thereby helping our bodies fight these infections. Geniuses the earth caste may be, but they make for exceptionally poor liars. We have a few rotaa left at best.’
Calmstone folded her hands across her chest, but did not reply.
‘High commander,’ said Oe-ken-yon, nudging forward, ‘I wish to offer the deepest contrition concerning the events that led to this ruling.’
‘Be silent, drone,’ said Shadowsun. ‘If you remember how. You have disclosed quite enough already.’
‘I must protest. I had no option! As with all true citizens of the T’au’va I am first and foremost loyal to the ethereal caste, and as a command-pattern drone it is my solemn duty to–’
‘Enough,’ said Shadowsun. A vast and deathly weariness was rising up within her to smother her soul. ‘Leave us, Oe-ken-yon, and do not return.’
The drone reeled, rim up in disbelief. ‘High commander?’
‘I shall commandeer a standard communion link drone in your stead. A basic model should prove sufficient for the purposes of my resignation, and will no doubt be in just as much of a hurry to disclose my every activity to the ethereal caste.’
‘As… as you wish.’ Rim dipped in subservience, his disc-like form slowly drifted down until it was almost touching the floor. ‘Is there any last task I can do for you before I leave your service? Perhaps fetch an earth caste attendant with a soporific, that you might sleep a little?’
‘No. Just leave.’
Oe-ken-yon turned on his axis, gliding slowly towards the door and opening it with a flicker of light on the sensor. Shadowsun heard a cessation of his burring anti-gravity motors for a moment as he paused on the threshold, but she did not look around. Then the door hissed shut once more, and he was gone.
A long spate of quiet stretched past before Shadowsun spoke again.
‘I have it.’
‘You do?’ Calmstone looked over from her hover-bed, an expression of deep suspicion on her face.
‘I am not to endanger any other t’au lives,’ said Shadowsun. ‘That I heard loud and clear. But there was no prohibition against endangering my own.’
‘O’Shaserra… this is not like you. You sound like him.’
‘I’ve seen the breakdowns of the counter-attack at Arthas Moloch. Farsight did not sit idly, nursing his wounds when his warriors died on his behalf.’
‘Shas,’ said Calmstone uneasily. ‘Commander Farsight got all three of his ethereal advisors killed.’
‘Aun’La will never be in the line of fire, that much we have ensured already. And whilst we’re on the subject, the traitor O’Shovah also mounted a one-man attack on a gue’ron’sha capital ship and not only survived but crippled it in the process.’
‘You are in no fit state to attempt anything of the sort.’
‘I would need help, that is for certain. But the path least trodden is sometimes the right one to follow. I have the hunt’s end in mind.’
‘You are forbidden from seeking it, are you not?’
‘Did Aun’La forbid me from making use of our various allies? Did Commander Surestrike? Did he even consider it, in his outright prejudice against them? No. Perhaps, as one of the Fourth Sphere, he considers them unworthy of mention.’
‘From your salvesuit’s link to the med-slab,’ said Calmstone, ‘I can see your health status is still in copper, verging on tin. Any stress or wound could see you slide rapidly into gunmetal, even charcoal. Even leaving this hexpod you risk a rapid decline. You cannot serve the Greater Good with a useless death.’
‘I will have the finest of shields at my side,’ she continued. ‘After all, our faithful drones are not t’au. With a remote requisition, I could assemble a highly effective team.’
‘And how would you embark on this highly dubious endeavour, with none other than Aun’La himself in forbiddance?’
‘I would be forced to ask for help from a confidante,’ she said. ‘One who is known for her level head and grasp of what is right for the T’au’va.’
‘I cannot believe I am hearing this.’
‘Calmstone. Please! I implore you. I must go through with this!’
‘We both have some manner of alien plague! How can you possibly think this is the right time to stake your command, your entire life, on a fool’s errand?’
‘There is no sense in attempting to dissuade me. The matter is already in progress. I have requested audiences with the necessary personnel whilst I still have the practising rank of commander.’
‘I see.’
‘All that remains is for you to have some manner of seizure at the far end of the corridor.’
‘What? I am not doing that. You cannot ask that of me.’
‘The earth caste will not suspect duplicity. With my signs stable, they will attend you alone. Even when my absence is discovered it will take some time for them to untangle the fu’llasso of authorisations, exceptions and counter-informationals I intend to leave them.’
Calmstone closed her eyes and sighed, long and loud. It caught in her lungs, and turned into a hacking cough. Shadowsun thought she could see blood on her companion’s lips.
‘Please,’ said Shadowsun, quietly this time. ‘We don’t have much time left. Let me serve the Greater Good as I was born to do.’
Another moment passed, stretching out long, a glimpse of hope attenuating to almost nothing.
Then Calmstone stood unsteadily, took a deep breath, and padded softly towards the iris door.