Fire Warrior

“Who are you?” he said, testing his abilities to articulate the gue’las’ crude language. A second rush of astonished pheromones greeted his senses.

“You speak Imperial?” the black-cowl hissed, cable-strewn fingers clenching in surprise.

Ko’vash ignored the question, irritated by the gue’la tendency to state the obvious, and repeated: “Who are you, human?”

The face beneath the cowl leered. “You’re very well spoken — for an abomination. I respect that.”

Ko’vash merely stared, absorbing every shred of sensory information around him. The gue’la bowed with a sarcastic flourish, the bristling components of his face twitching excitedly.

“I am Turial Farrachus,” he said, “Genetor primus of the Magos Biologis and Adept of the Officio Xenobiologica. I’m what you might call an... enthusiast of all things ‘tau’.”

Ko’vash nodded, mentally storing the name. As much as his helplessness galled him, his first instinct was to gather information. Conversation seemed the most probable source of answers. He dipped his head respectfully, deciding politeness would be his best tool, and declared: “I am Aun’el T’au Ko’vash.”

“Ah, yes,” Farrachus purred, voice thick with insincere gravity. “Let me see now... That would make you an Aun of the rank ‘el’, correct? The... third highest, I think?”

“Fourth,” Ko’vash interceded, interested in the gue’la’s knowledge despite himself. Such basic factors of tau life were hardly secrets; surely these frail creatures didn’t bring him here for this?

“I stand corrected.” Farrachus gri

“T’au.”

“That’s it... And the last section is the ‘given’ name, if memory serves. ‘Ko-vaj’, was it?”

“Ko’vash...”

The magos bowed flamboyantly again. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“What is this place, Adept Farrachus?”

“That’s irrelevant,” the man smiled, turning away to continue his inspection of a blinking datascreen. “Consider yourself a guest of His Most Sacred Majesty, the Emperor of Mankind. I suggest you enjoy his hospitality while it lasts.”

He selected a polished scalpel from a tray at his side and examined it pointedly. There was something almost amphibious to his features; the wide mouth and metal-infested skin spread in an ugly smile that derived, Ko’vash could clearly see, from his perceived seniority to those around him.

The ethereal refused to be cowed in the same way, staring disdainfully at the brandished scalpel. In truth, the didactic memories divulged little material regarding this “Officio Xenobiologica”, but the overtones were clear. Without a trace of arrogance Ko’vash was fully aware of his importance to the tau: to have fallen into the hands of beings as fiercely expansionist as the gue’la was nothing short of disastrous. He had no doubt that, at the first possible juncture, he would be tortured for whatever tactical knowledge he possessed. The shortsightedness of the gue’la was appalling.

Whispering a calming litany, he reminded himself that even the gue’la, in time, would come to embrace the tau’va. All things would, eventually.

“How did I come to be here?” he purred, examining his memories for clues.

He’d been visiting the colony world Yu’kanesh when it happened; a riot of gunfire and madness that left his retinue pulverised and him gagging for air. He remembered the gas they’d used, curling through his mind and dampening every sensation. He remembered shouts and screams, then vast shapes in the fog hulking implacably forwards, then nothing.

“My employer organised some... mutual friends to fetch you.” The human chuckled, not looking round. “He’s most anxious to meet you.”

“Your ‘employer’?”

“That’s right. Well... Our ‘host’, at any rate. Ultimately I serve a far greater cause, as do all of the Emperor’s flock.”

“We’re not so dissimilar, then,” Ko’vash trilled, testing him.

“You’re quite wrong,” Farrachus growled, smug features twisting with anger. He fiddled with the knife impatiently, testing its weight. “We’re worlds apart, you and I.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Ko’vash waved an elegant hand dismissively, gratified at the ease with which these inefficient creatures could be goaded. “Tell me... What is your Emperor?”

Farrachus’s eyes flashed angrily. “How dare you speak his name? I’ll not tolerate xenos sullying his purity.”

Ko’vash tilted his head, undeterred by the insult. “Nonetheless — the question stands. What is he?”

“He is the purity of mankind. Our light and our guide. I wouldn’t expect an abomination to understand!”

“Would you say, then, that he represents the whole of your race?”

“Of course! We live and die to serve him!”

“And in so doing, you serve all gue’la?”

The adept’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Where are you going with this, alien?”

Ko’vash allowed a serene smile to play across his lips. “The ‘greater power’ that I serve,” he said, “teaches us that in service to our race, we contribute to the Greater Good... Are your Emperor and my tau’va truly so different?”

“That’s enough,” the man growled, all vestiges of humour discarded.

“You called yourself an enthusiast of the tau,” Ko’vash persisted, “so you must know of the tau’va... You must know we seek to unite all things for their mutual benefit, not to destroy them? We are no threat to you, unless provoked.”

“You will be quiet!” the human barked, brandishing the scalpel.

“We are no threat to you, and yet you hold me against my will. You must see the illogic of it.”

Farrachus’s advance halted, and his mouth curled with cruel humour once more. “I told you why you are here,” he hissed. “My master was anxious to speak with you. You have so much to discuss together.”

“Whoever he is, he can’t imagine that I’ll tell him anything important.”

“Forgive my scepticism, alien. I’ve heard those words said before.”

“I’ll die before I betray the tau’va.”

“You would do well to forget whatever xeno gibberish you believe.” Farrachus growled. “It won’t help you any longer. And if you think I’ll let you die before you’ve... co-operated, you’re quite, quite mistaken.”

He chuckled, turning back to the instrument panels, sweaty fingers caressing the knife’s hilt.

The wait on the drop deck was significantly shorter.

The deployment doors melted open to reveal a smoke-blotted patch of dust and mud below. The first few warriors, crouched in readiness, shuffled agitatedly, knuckles tightening on rifles.

Early morning gloom raced by beneath, the first tentative splashes of light from the rising sun streaking the smoke and sand. Dolumar IV was a bleak world even when seen from above, and Kais glared morosely at the rocky wastes as they drew inexorably closer.

An altimeter chimed. The droplight turned green and the fire warriors in front of him began to tumble out into the haze.

Kais’s leg muscles bunched, smoke and dust churning past them into the drop deck. He took a breath, swallowed hard, and jumped.

Lieutenant Alik Kevla waved forwards the ragged remnants of his squad and advanced towards the next blind corner of the trench system. More of the alien vessels were bleeding out of the skies with every moment, filling the air with the awful shriek of their engines. Mind still burning with fury at the lucky airstrike that had wiped out half of his squad scant minutes before, he cursed every inhuman abomination that ever dared draw breath within the Emperor’s divine realms and gripped his lasgun to his chest.

They’d come from nowhere, unprovoked and una

“Landing craft,” he snarled, peering cautiously around a corner at the pair of bulbous shuttles hovering nearby. They tilted downwards shallowly, as if sniffing at the dust, great plumes of haze lifting around their engines. Kevla turned to his squad with a growl. “Not one of them lives that walks on the Emperor’s soil. You understand? Not one!”