Nexus nearspace
The sudden, desperate pull of space yanked Shadowsun through the hull breach like the hand of an invisible god. Tak and Ven Tah Regah were tumbling after her, a hundred gue’ron’sha in their wake. Already millions of flying maggot-things had been sucked out amidst a cascade of flesh-coloured slurry, the strength of their malice nothing next to the endless might of space. Every living thing, everything not welded or bolted to the deck, was wrenched into the dark, cold nothingness of the void to spin end over end into oblivion.
The vastness of the gue’ron’sha flagship spun before her to grow smaller, and smaller again. Flailing, desperate humans and gue’ron’sha formed a scattering of movement, a slick of living flotsam spilling from the side of a wounded galleon.
Tumbling head over heels, Shadowsun fought the urge to let her disorientation turn to panic. She triggered an urgent distress signal on the air caste’s priority frequency, then course-corrected with her suit’s jets until she had some kind of equilibrium. Though her XV22 was not void-capable in the manner of a Coldstar, it was still a paradise in comparison to the awful, chilling cold that the unprotected would have to endure; already they would be freezing to death. Hopefully, the vile life forms still on the bridge would be dying along with them, killed by the endless cold they had held at bay for so long.
She called up the vital signs of her allies and drew a net across the spill of bodies pouring out of the flagship to find any possible matches. Many of the corpses-to-be were silhouetted by the light of the Startide Nexus, themselves rendered insects by the shimmering maw of the wormhole beyond. The only way out of this sept-forsaken wilderness to the sanity beyond.
That, or death.
Glancing back at the ship itself, she saw the bodies had ceased to spill out of the wounded flagship’s bridge. Something huge and black had sealed the hole she had cut, keeping the ship’s gue’ron’sha masters from an untimely death.
Pain shot through her torso, and her heart felt as if it were crumbling to clay at the sight. On the flagship went, making its way towards the wormhole at much the same speed it had kept since its translation in-system.
It had all been for nothing.
The stars beyond winked and shimmered, eternity itself calling to her soul, asking her to keep perspective. What was one ship, in the greater scheme of things, or even one empire, let alone a single t’au’s grief? The sprawl of the galaxy was so impossibly vast, it was all irrelevant.
The fire inside her flickered and failed.
What did it matter, in the end? What was the point? Most of this cursed galaxy belonged to the crude humans. Those who ruled through cruelty, not enlightenment. They had already won. Would it really be so bad if she just spun out of control and let the void carry her away to a slow death? Why not accept it, and sink into the inky abyss forever?
As she let the darkness take her, she heard laughter in the depths of the void.
Her distribution suite chimed, a note of hope in a universe of nothingness. It had detected a non-human vital sign. Opening one eye, Shadowsun made out the gangling anatomy of Opikh Tak, sitting cross-legged like a guru atop Oe-hei’s broad disc, his claws clutching the rim and his gun tucked under the fold of his waist like a balancing pole.
She saw another figure, then, spinning in the opposite direction – the giant, ursine form of Ven Tah Regah, turning gently end over end as she floated away from the vastness of the Imperial flagship.
Unmoving.
She forced herself to focus upon the nicassar, muscle memory kicking in as she put just enough thrust in to course-correct her tumbling flight through the void. Activating her rearmost sensors, she picked up on Oe-hei: with the drone’s jets flaring, he and Opikh Tak were adjusting their course as well.
The nicassar grew large on her screen. Shadowsun reached out and gently grabbed Ven Tah Regah’s ankle, pulling her in close until she could clamp an arm around her waist. Under the dense fur, the creature was surprisingly slight. Yet to Shadowsun’s instruments, she was as cold as a corpse.
Oe-hei caught them up before they had drifted too much further into the void. She felt a slight electric crackle on the back of her arms as the guardian drone’s field enfolded her, then heard a ringing triple-tap of Opikh Tak’s knuckles on her battlesuit, loud and sure enough to let her know the kroot was alive and well. The drone’s shield was thin, yet robust, and still had enough captured air from the bridge to suffice.
For a time, at least.
‘High commander,’ transmitted Oe-hei as she mag-locked her suit to his rim and swivelled so Ven Tah Regah was within the spherical force field. ‘I harnessed enough of the ship’s atmosphere for Kindred Soul Tak to survive for a time, but I doubt he will last longer than point three decs.’
She smiled, then, despite herself. It felt like the break of a new dawn.
‘My suit has supplies enough to last for fifty times that length if needed,’ said Shadowsun, ‘and I can vent enough of it to adjust the levels in your sphere as necessary.’
‘Excellent,’ replied the drone. ‘Your friend here, however, appears to be without a pulse. Is there much point in keeping the nicassar within my field?’
‘My scan is incomplete,’ transmitted Shadowsun, playing her suit’s bio-register across Ven Tah Regah with more focus this time. ‘It takes time to register with non-t’au. She might yet be alive.’
Oe-hei said nothing, his silence somehow more damning than a contradiction.
‘We must warn the sept worlds the gue’ron’sha are coming despite our efforts,’ said Shadowsun as she ran the scan again. The nicassar’s anatomy was strange, and she was no earth caste medic. ‘Oe-hei, you at least will make it back, of that I am sure. Listen well.’
‘Of course.’
‘Firstly, tell the earth caste to make use of the charpactin wherever there is an outbreak of the nightmare plague. Their brainwave alterations can heal was well as captivate. If our allies have any reservations, tell them to do it in the name of Great T’au’va. Use that exact phrasing.’
‘It is done. Sample compile framed and sent on tight beam.’
‘My thanks, little one. Most efficient.’
‘Well, I am an advanced guardian drone.’ Oe-hei dipped his rim happily. Opikh Tak’s eyes widened in alarm at the sudden motion.
‘Secondly, I formally authorise the sending of a communion drone through the wormhole. It is to deliver as much intel on the threat as possible to the sept worlds. They must be ready.’
Shadowsun stopped. Finally, there was a blip on her vital-sign register over the scan-hex showing her nicassar friend. The spiking line of a heartbeat flashed, deep and slow.
‘She’s alive, I think,’ said Shadowsun. ‘Alive, but with very slow vital signs.’ She felt her world brightening just enough that she found it in herself to turn towards Tak and Oe-hei, reaching out to pull them close so they hung on to one another as they drifted on through the darkness. ‘She’s entered into a hibernatory state, I believe, as a response to the ship’s voiding.’
‘A profound relief,’ said Oe-hei. ‘With such a low metabolic rate, she’s going to use a far lesser fraction of our air.’
‘I can do something similar,’ said Tak, subvocalising via his audio bead. ‘My kindred learned the lessons of the burrow-fish. We can last through the worst of winters in such a manner. It is something, at least.’
‘It might buy us a few more decs,’ said Oe-hei.
‘Then rest as well as you can,’ said Shadowsun. The pain in her foot was gradually building as her suit’s analgesics wore off, her chest was burning, and her heart felt like it would burst if she moved so much as a muscle. ‘I shall do the same, and with the grace of the T’au’va upon us, we will be saved.’
She closed her eyes, and let her ravaged consciousness fall into deep sleep.