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Secession
Allow a single rebel world go unpunished and countless more will rise up, all clamoring for those religious and economic freedoms better known to loyal citizens of the Imperium as heresy and ingratitude.
On the world of Feronis Pima, the seeds of rebellion were planted in the hard frozen mud that had ravaged the planet for over twelve hundred years. It began when volcanic eruptions on the northern continent, near the pole and spewed poisonous mud and ash all over the planet. The sudden climatic change wiped out over half of the eighty million human populations and reduced planetary productivity to almost nothing. On countless occasions in the years that followed, one loyalist governor after another begged the Administratum for aid. Eventually, the Administratum approved the deferment of Imperial tributes, but more direct aid in the form of food, medicine, and technologies was repeatedly denied. Imperial coffers, the Feronins were told, were being drained by anti-xenos campaigns throughout the segmentum.
When the remaining Feronin scientists finally announced the beginning of a return to warmer temperatures, the population had dropped to a two-thirds loss of it pre-catastrophic figures. But there was another force present on Feronis Pima's World, for which none of the generals and their Imperial Guardsmen was unprepared – a force that would claim all too many of which ever faction tried to take it.
For centuries, the insufferable Tau had been expanding their Empire into the Fourth and Fifth sept, after they're crushing victory over the Ultramarines on Macragge. The traitor, Colonel Kain Russell Osman, and his brood of xenos scum and heretics alike had been taking more and more worlds after Macragge fell. Circe, Tarentus, Quintarn, Masail and countless others fell to Tau forces under Osman's command in seventy-two hours. More secure locations, like Talasa Prime and Konor, fell within two weeks. Even planets, like Espandor and Calth, had fallen under Tau control. With those planets gone, the Tau have complete control of their recourse, territories and technology that dates back to the Dark Age of Technology. Because of this, the Tau Empire had received a booster shot, if such, in furthering their technological advances.
The Valhallan Twelfth and Vostroyan eighty-fifth had been sent to originally crush the Feronin rebels, restore order, secure any artifacts, secure the artifact and return to the Fourth Black Crusade on Cadia. But with the arrival of Kain and his damn caste, the simple conflict had turned into a fell out war.
The old foe, for you see, wants everything but values nothing.
Extract: Hammer and Bolter: Collected Essay from the Fourth and Fifth Sphere Expanse, eds. Commissar. Jillian von Kisser.
Morning at the Eastern Front began, as it most often did, with the dark sky shifting from midnight blue to slate-grey. Down on the ground, everything was turning brilliant white. Only regular clearance work prevented the heavy snow from filling the Tau trenches. Out here, eight kilometers east of the proper towns, or any proper settlements that the Earth Caste had cut into the frozen earth. If Kain lived through this campaign – and odds of that were unsure at that – he was sure he'd remember it, not for the fury of the incorrigible Vostroyans or bull-headed Valhallans, but for the relentless assault of the planet's deep winter.
Icy winds gusted down the firing trench, catching the snow as it fell, and hurling it against his army with a fury that was almost a living force. Heavy fur scarves and cloaks became coated on their windward side. But the warriors under his command had weathered worse in their time. It would take more than the Feronis Pima ice-age to shake their morale to the fight.
Kain moved up to the firing step, raised his unprotected head over the lip of the trench and peered out between coils of rusting razorwire and sandbags that were frozen harder than rocks. The deep winter had pulled powdery blankets over yesterday's dead, and there was little evidence of violence that had shaken the planet. Only irregular mounds of snow on the otherwise level battlefield hinted at the multitude of dead Imperials that lay beneath.
Given the holy white that lay before him, it was hard to believe a battle had fought here at all: no scorched ground, no smoking craters. Yet, barely twenty hours ago, Kain had led his platoon of Tau Fire Warriors, Humans, Kroots, and Vespids in a bloody offense to these very trenches.
Here he was again, called back from the warmth of his bunk after XV25 stealth teams had alerted the regiment to a massing of enemy forces beyond the tree line to the east. Tired as they were, those off-duty had quickly reassembled to face the inevitable attack.
The Imperium, damn them all, seemed impervious to the deep winter. The Vostroyans and Valhallans were used to fighting in these conditions. Unfortunately, so were Kain's forces.
On either side of Kain, the trenches snaked north and south into the snow veiled distance, filled with men, women and aliens in greatcoats and armor of his Forty-Third Regiment's Seventh Company. The stamped their feet on the frozen planking of the trenched floor, and rubbed armored glove hands over their weapons to brush away the snow and ice. Their pockets were bulging with power-packs for their Pulse Rifles waiting to be loading at the last minute so that the cold would not make the barrel brittle and breakable.
There were four hundred and fifty-six Taus, Humans, Kroots and Vespids at the last count, spread across five platoons. He started off with five hundred. Forty-four had been lost trying to take the trench systems away from the Valhallans. At certain points along the lines were mixed teams of heavy bolter teams, lascannon crews, and drone sentry turret armed with burst cannons and missile pods.
Kain pulled his scarf down for a moment, so he could scratch his face where the stumbles of coarse hair on his face. The bitter air nipped at his exposed skin. Every face around him was covered against the cold, some had scarves and greatcoats and gloves over their armor, others with rebreather masks that offered better protection against the elements, but reduced peripheral vision. Kain had always allowed his soldiers a certain amount of freedom in the way they configured their gear. Each soldier knew themselves best, after all. Even so, he'd have welcomed the chance to read their expressions as they readied themselves for the inevitable Imperium assault.
"Stand strong," he thought. "You're tired, cold and hungry, I know, but after this battle, we've got some rest and relaxation. Hold fast until then."
He knew there would be mistakes brought on by exhaustion, and decided to order extra checks on cold climate discipline. He was originally from Valhalla, so he knew what threats to look out for. Pneumonia and frostbite were constant threats on worlds like this. The deep winter stalked every man and woman here, whether human or xenos, waiting for a simple mistake, for a chance to claim the lives of the careless.
Early in the conflict, the youngest and greenest Tau and Kroots under his command had suffered in depressingly high numbers. Frostbite: for some it was lips or what they had for a nose, for others it was fingers or toes. Thankfully the Earth Caste was able to make some upgrades to the armor that kept the remaining warriors alive, but one fracture in the suits would cause instant freezing under a minute.
The humans, on the other hand, he did not really worry about. They were mixed veterans from worlds like this. There were from Valhallans, Firstborns, even Stormtroopers from Cadia. Many were veterans who, like Kain, had opted to serve beyond their ten years of compulsory service. Such men and women would have sensed the coming storm of battle just as he had.
Three Vespid flyers flew in, landing in front of him. Each one carried a neutron blaster and a few EMP grenades. He sent them ahead to set up melta bombs to double as mines, and demolition charges to cause the Imperium advance trouble.
"How does it look?" Kain asked.
"The gue'las are sending their remaining regiment here," one Vespid said, speaking in a tone of gothic that was most made out of insect-like clicks.
"I see," Kain said with a yawn. "Go back to the GeoFront. Tell the Earth caste that we need those Broadsides. Those Imperial bastards are going to come at us with everything they got, and we need all the help we can get."
"Yes, Gue'vesa'O Osman." The Vespids turned to his comrades, said something to them in its native tongue, and flew back to the GeoFronts.
Kain tried to gauge the mood of the soldiers around him. Despite their being covered head to toe against the razor wind, it wasn't all that hard to sense their agitation. Their bodies were in continuous motion, keeping their joints loose and their blood pumping in readiness for combat. It kept them warm, which was good for the Tau. They hated the cold. Many were veterans who, like Kain, had opted to serve beyond their ten years of compulsory service before joining the Empire. Such soldiers could sense the coming storm of battle as he had.
He raised his magnoculars and squinted into the lense, picking up the tree line just over five kilometers east of their position. Small tremors and the thick plums of black smoke coming from the Mortan forest told him that the Imperial advance was becoming more heated and desperate. As he adjusted the magnification, bringing the wall of blue pine into sharp focus, a Chimera limped out. It was on fire and completely out of control. Half the hull was melted away, the other half was melting, and when it fell into a small embankment the transport exploded in a beautiful display of instant death to anything around it. A few of his soldiers moved as hot shrapnel rained on them.
"Hold your positions," Kain reminded them, keeping the soldiers within the trenches to avoid going for trophies.
After watching for another minute with no further sign of movement, Kain returned his magnoculars to the case on his belt and decided to get suited up.
After the conquest of Macragge, the Tau's military gear had received a type of booster shot as earth caste engineers dismantled Ultramarine war gear, power weapons, vehicles and relics and applied them to the Greater Good. As a type reward from the Etheral caste, Kain was allowed to build his own battlesuit, using the designs he picked up.
Kain's suit was quickly becoming the normal for human battlesuits. It had the build of an X89 Crisis suit, so it outfitted with heavier armor for enhanced protection, but had a very human feel to it. On one arm was a burst cannon that had the words "RAVEN HUNTER" painted along the barrel; his way of paying homage to the Second War for Nimbosa. While on the other was fitted with a power fist that had four retractable lightning claws that he personally pulled off a dead Raven Guard.
He turned and muttered a curse against the Imperial dogs. His regimental tech-priest, enginseer Mehmed, was deeper in the complex of trenches, cleaning out the small piles of ash that collected under the joints. His actions, and robotized grumbling, showed a mild frustration.
Some two thousand years after the massive volcanic eruption in the far north had kick-started Feronis Prime's ice age, tiny particles of volcanic debris in high atmosphere always seemed to rain down and collect on anything and everything.
"Colonel," said Mehmed as he closed the power fist arm up. "your suit had collected more than a year of ash in vital areas. Thank the Emperor that it had not killed you."
"Maybe it's my dumb luck that's saving me." Kain said as he shed his great coat. "Why don't you let the drones take care of that? That is what I assigned them for."
"They are far too naïve, sir." Mehmet said. "They have the Machine Spirit, but not the mind. They're plasma cutters could fuse volcanic glass to metal and cause the whole system to explode."
"Sometimes I feel guilty for making deal with bots that makes your life one-hundred percent easier."
Mehmet gave off a sarcastic, mechanical chuckle. "Just do me a favor, and don't die out there. It'll be a shame to see such a beautiful machine to die out there, and I don't want to end up on a firing squad."
Kain was about to answer when the vox-bead in his ear crackled. It was Lieutenant Dales, commander of ninth platoon. "Dales to company leader. Movement amongst the trees. Lots of movements!"
Kain climbed inside his battlesuit, positioning himself into the padding that conformed to his body. The suit's servos came to life with a quiet rumble, quickly fading to near silence. A low whine came from behind him, complex machinery sliding on well-oiled rails into position. He winced, preparing himself. He hated this part!
A special liquid, clear as water and as thick as syrup, started to enter the suit. There was no point in holding his breath; because once his lungs were filled he could breathe normally. But he usually had the human instinct to do it, which made his fingers and toes curl.
Now he was the machine. He flexed a limb experimentally, enjoying the sensation of reasserted control as the drowning nausea faded. His arm – his real one – remained positioned by his side, nestled snugly in its padded bindings. Instead, sensed rather than seen, a heavy power fist, completer with Raven lightning claws, flex from the massive shoulder of the suit.
He moved the muscles of his neck, mentally commanding his skull to rotate and allow him the opportunity to look around. His vertebrae remained straight and immobile but the optics cluster perched atop the suit oscillated and flexed – a replacement cranium just as responsive to his neural commands as the real thing. Flicking through spectral filters was a simple as blinking.
He examined his surroundings. The bunker hold was a cavern of pale, cold concrete that looked like it needed major repairs before another artillery strike took it down. Four other suits, X8 Crisis Battlesuits, hulked near him. Earth caste drones and Enginseers equipped missile pods and plasma canons to their arms. One suit raised its right limb, heavy flamer fuel lines automatically slackening to compensate for the movement, and ignited its pilot light with a quiet hiss. Another was equipped with a pair of battledrones, held aloft on thrumming anti-grav fields, diagnostically manipulating the heavy weapons slung to their bellies, checking targeting facilities and functionality.
"Interface successful," Mehmet grunted, instinctually looking at all of Kain's, and his staff's, vital signs on a tablet.
"Status checks," he commanded to his staff.
"Ready." Said Shas'la Chou.
"Ready." Said Shas'ui Ju.
"Ready." Said Shas'ui Kais.
Kain keyed the company command channel on his suit's vox, cleared his throat and said, "Colonel Osman to all platoon leaders. I want all squads on full alert. Wake up, ladies and gentlemen. Expect a charge from the tree line any minute. We really pissed them off."
Kain's officers broke through the static with brief confirmations.
Moving through the tight tunnels became harder due to Kain's enhanced size, but he maneuvered himself to the front line with ease.
He flexed his fingers. That feeling had descended on him again, the tightness in his muscles, in his gut, as if he needed to piss. He knew it was partly the cold trying to keep in, but it was more than just that.
Adrenaline slowly increased. He always felt it before a battle. Another tide of pointless violence was building, and about to spill over on them, eroding the relative silence of the deep winter. The feeling was so strong that he felt a shock of doubt run through his mind.
How many will I lose this time? Twenty? Thirty? All of them. By Terra and the Greater Good, let it be less or none at all.
If he worked smart, and if the Emperor was truly with him, maybe he could keep the numbers down.
He keyed his vox to company's open channel and addressed his troops. "Ready yourselves, xenos and heretics. Check your kit. Follow your platoon leaders."
Up and down the line, he could sense his soldiers preparing themselves, switching mental gears at the sound of his voice. There was more than enough time for him to whisper a small prayer to the Emperor. "Emperor, bestow on me Your righteous fury and Your furious strength. Let me become the storm that blasts the enemy from Your sight."
"That'll have to do," thought Kain. "I've never been much of a spiritual man, Emperor forgive me."
Shas'ui T'au Kai spoke from behind him. "Gue'vesa'O, Second and Eighth Companies are reporting movement all along the lines. Looks like a big one."
As if on cue, an all too familiar sound erupted from the distant trees: the rage-filled battle cry that the Imperial Guard gives off right before a suicide charge. If the sub-zero temperatures of the frozen Feronis Prima days weren't bad enough, a roar from men with guns to their heads would do it. More human roaring sounded on the air, racing over the right white drifts to the ears of the anxious front line, signaling for the battle to start.
"Get over to the southern line, Kais. Keep me up on the status of the Second and Eighth. We don't want any surprises."
"Understood, Gue'vesa'O," replied Kais. His suit's jetpacks flared bright blue, and the snow and ice and rock melted around him as he took off.
"Ju, head up to the northern line and support the ninth through fifteenth."
"Yes, gue'vesa'O."
"Chou, you're with me. Let's send these zealots into the graves they been so happily digging for themselves!" Kain switch to the company's channel. "Ready yourselves, heretics and xenos."
Railguns and carbine charge packs were drawn from pockets all along the trench, and clicked into place under long, polished barrels.
"Maintain fire discipline. Power setting at maximum. Choose your targets. I want redundancy minimized. Remember, all of you, that temperature, visibility and the nature of our opponent have reduced lethal approximately in half – for them. We are a part of the Tau Empire. We can hit a fly half a continent away, so I expect seeing plenty of death lines between here and the forest."
In scholas and academies across the Imperium, officers and commissars were taught how to tap that faith. There were entire study programs dedicated to battlefield oration, but that didn't help Kain, because his was field commission. Everything he knew about leadership had been learnt the hard way, through blood, sweat, tears and switching sides on battlefields from Cadia to the Eastern fringe.
As is summoned by the thought, they showed themselves now, bellowing their challenge as they broke cover. They crashed from between the trees, a thunderous tide of indoctrinated cannon fodder, led by fanatical commissars and cheered on by insane priests, kicked up great sprays of snow as they raced over no-man's land towards the Tau lines.
"Mark your targets," ordered Kain. "First volley on my order. Not one shot till we see their breath misting in the air. Allow them to extend themselves. Heavy gunners and sentry drones on dense knots only, please. And whoever takes out their commissars or priests will receive a two week furlough!"
Normally Kain would clutch a pendant that lay beneath his clothes. It wasn't anything holy, but it was given to by someone who he deeply cared about. It was replicate of a kroot fang, made from polished onyx, and hung from a worn leather strap around his neck. A pretty common souvenir within the Empire, but it served as a sort of good luck charm.
He mumbled a quick prayer for the one who gave him the necklace and armed his weapons. "Let's break their backs!"
Kain felt his adrenaline surge as he watched the enemy speed towards them, signaling his suit's and body's readiness for the fight. The cold lost some of its bite. His fatigue faded and all his long years of front-line training and experience rose to the fore.
Along the trench in directions, men, women, both Tau and human alike, made ready to fire at the tide of charging humans. He raised his power-fist arm high above his head. Out on the snowfields, the human stampede swept closer.
Kain fired several burst shots at the charging horde, thinning out the line and voxed the words his fire warriors were waiting for. "Open fire!"
A searing volley of bright blue plasma bolts blazed from the trenches, each shot slicing through the air with a distinctive hiss-crack. Scores of charging Imperials howled in agony and fell clutching their blown off body parts. Las-guns and grenade luanchers were flung aside as bodies tumbled to lifeless heap. But for all those that fell, there were hundred more that took their place. Their flak armour did very little to protect them from the Fire warriors' accuracy.
The heavy bolters, lascannons, and sentry turrets opened fire, filling any warrior's ears with deep machine chatter. Down the line he saw a large explosion of fire scorch across the snowfield, melting the ice, rock and flesh.
"Kais, tell second through eighth to fire at will," voxed Kain. "They do not get to the trenches. Do you hear? Fire at will!"
Enemy las-fire, hot enough to scorch through any human body, bit great chunks of frozen dirt from the sandbags on the trench lip. They were sending in kasrkin trooper now. They were the elite troopers of the Imperial Guard, and came with the best weapons, armour, and training; not to mention their moral was unwavering.
"Take those bastards down, Fire Warriors. Don't repeat what happened on Carthage!"
All of his veteran warriors would understand that. Carthage was the bloodiest campaign to date for the Empire. All in city, close combat fighting with no support from their Kroot of Vespid allies, so learning how to perform, and excel at hand-to-hand combat quickly became a life or death difference. During that time, Kain highly supported looting dead kasrkins, stealing any power weapons they had. Afterwards, his superiors tried to find ways in incorporating melee fighting into standard Tau military tactics.
But this was not Carthage, too clean and cold for Carthage, and hopefully being with human comrades were more than enough training for what might happen. Hopefully, that might never happen.
High velocity laser beams repelled off his shields, causing them to flare and dance with the most brilliant and deadly colors. Kain just had to think of leaping, and he was already in the air. His burst cannon was already firing before he hit the ground, but the problem was that the super-charged bolts of plasma made no man's land softer than he would've liked it. If there wasn't a layer of bodies under him, he surely would've been trapped in the quick freezing mud.
Kain swung his over-sized fist into a knot of kasrkins, making their lifeless bodies high into the air. Another squad tried to flank him from the side, but they soon experienced Tau legendary accuracy. His actions lead a form of inspiration in his warriors, and their solid firing discipline and Fire Warrior accuracy were taking their tolls on the humans. Out in no man's land, the first charge broke. Stragglers turned and sped back towards the trees to join up the second wave.
The heavy rattling and booming from the heavy weapons ceased.
Kain keyed up his vox again. "Good work, Fire Warriors, but this is no time for back-slaps and souvenir hunting. Give me casualty report."
"Ju reporting in. Ninth through thirteenth suffered minium injuries, no casualties."
"Kais reporting. Second through eighth suffered five casualties. They tried a suicide bombing with a Chimera."
Terrific. They switched to blowing themselves up.
Before he got his own casualty report, another wave of Imperial Guardsmen had already broken from the trees; this time with Leman Russ battle tanks.
"Second wave," he called. "Ammo counters and charge packs, all of you! Lascannons, concentrate all fire on those tanks!"
Emperor above, prayed Kain, give us strength.
Bright streams of white light scorched from the trench and made contact with the tank's side, buying Kain enough time to claw his way out of the frozen earth, and make it back to the trenches. A salvo of Smart Missiles screamed across no-man land, smashed into the hull of the closest tanks, causing them to blow up instantly. The remaining flew over the dead and caused only minor damage to the second wave.
One of the damned Imperium's tanks managed to smash through the flaming wreckage of the first wave, sustaining minor damage and breaking through with its heavy bolter blazing. Its Battle Cannon fired, blinded by the smoke and fire, causing a small tremor and an unmanned pillbox exploded into a hail of heated rocks.
Putting most of his power into the legs, Kain fired himself from the trenches and smashed into the tank's heavy hull. Both his suit and the tank began to push against each other, neither one giving an inch of ground, and his shields were being whittled away buy the heavy bolter fire. The liquids inside his suit began to heat and boil to unbearable levels. Now he was missing the bone-biting cold outside. Switching all auxiliary power to his power gauntlet, he struck into the hull causing it to heavily dent and probably killing the gunner and injuring the driver. Giving a quick prayer of forgiveness to the Emperor, the long claws shot into the tank and the beast died then and there.
Kain gave a small sigh of relief. His warriors were safe for now. But the chill of battle quickly took him over. There were still more tanks, and his suit was completely drained of power. He struggled to move, but nothing was working. Everything was either drained of dangerously overheated, and knowing what the Imperial Guard did to humans, especially former officers, who deserted and switched side he almost prayed for death then being at the mercy of the damn Inquisition.
The frozen earth beneath him began to tremor once more, and Kain braced for the worst. One moment dragged by, then another, and then another. No damage was happening to his suit; in fact the Imperial tanks were in a full retreat and his own fire warriors had gone over the trench line and began to hunt down the remaining infinity.
Thank the Throne, he relaxed a bit in his suit. The tremors he was feeling were rail-blasts coming from unexpected, not waited for, and unanticipated Broadsuit support coming from Shas'El Kauyon'Do – better known as Commander Silenthunter. Seemed a bit ironic to have a name like that, considering he is the head of the mobile artillery on Feronis Prima.
There was a slight tapping on the hull of his suit. Not from lasgun fire, but from a certain techpriest.
"Commander," his voice was muffled by the suit. "are you all right in there?"
"Yeah," he answered, thank the emperor. The heavy doors opened and blistering white steam poured out, melting both ice and metal. Kain's skin was shining red, his own sweat turning to steam in the cold air, and most of his facial hair was gone. "Mehmet, patch me onto the Imperium's vox."
Mehmet called up the vox officer, a young kid named Alex, who managed to successfully patch him through to the Imperium's vox. Meaning he the second part of his plan worked, now he had to do his part.
"Attention all remaining Imperial forces – this is Commander Kain Russell Osman. Your own commanders and commissars are dead, and there is no fleet coming to re-enforce you. If you throw down your arms, you will not be persecuted or taken prisoner. Our water caste healers will look after your injured, and we will arrange transport back to Sigmentum Command. Any who wish to join us is free to do so, and any who wish to violently resist us will eradicate. The choice is, and always will be, yours."
At the same time of the drawn out battle, at the Imperium's main base, located in the old ruins of the capital city of Bryiron. They had sent out ninety-percent of their forces in a last ditch effort to push the Tau back, leaving just a handful of personal, even a smaller amount of veterans, to guard their base. This meant there were plenty gaps in their defenses for a single infiltrator to sneak in a cause some major damage.
General Vincent Coles, head of the Valhallan Twelth, known as the Iron Bears, sat in the ruins of what had been the Militant Governer's manor. He watched a small procession of Chimeras and Leman Russ Tanks move out to the front. Sentinels and his remaining men stood at direct attention, saluting off the remaining heavy firepower, and any who didn't quickly found themselves in front of a firing squad.
Colonel Zavid Hales, head of the Vostroyan eighty-fifth, entered the room, saluted and then stood at the ready. Vincent only gave a shrill nod and talked with a voice sharper than ice, "How are the men?"
"Tolerable, sir."
"Morale?"
"Good at central, but poor in the front."
"Causualties?"
"The same, maybe worse, sir."
"Firing squads?"
"Twenty today. Twelve for cowardice in the line of duty, and six for abandoning their posts, sir."
"Baneblades?"
"No word on when the fleets are going to bring them in, sir."
"I see," he gave a harsh grumble. "Look at this place. Once this was a fine city. A gleaming example of the Emperor's light – a center of industry, progess, and life. Now look at it. Hales, I will like to see this city built up again. I would like to see towers and spire of gleaming white. I would like to see our men on parade routes, not tour of duty. I would like to see every city on this planet, every colony in this blasted, besotted, miserable system turned to the service and industry of the imperium. And most importantly, I do not want to see all of that under the hands of the damned Xenos, in the Emperor's name!"
"In the Emperor's name, sir." Hales responded.
"But to see these dreams fulfilled, we must purge this planet clean of the Xenos and heretics and monsters which plague it." He continued. "And to do that, this base, our current center of command, must operate free of danger or harassment. Our remaining troops are ready. Our tanks, our Sentinels, our artillery, and Emperor will it; we will not need Baneblade support. So I will ask you again, Colonel – are we prepared? Or are we playing in the palms of the Xeno's hand?"
"We do what we can - and pray for victory." Said Hales, speaking more like a commissar then an officer. "Our enhanced Basilisk cannons have been prepared by our Techpriest Enginseers, has it not? They can be fired at will. If the heretic decides to march his army here, we will blow him and his lot straight to hell."
To a shadow, that was more than enough to end this base. The information had been tapped, the artifacts secure, and the vox systems hacked into. Their commissars and field officers were all dead, now all remained was their obnoxious artillery, annoying commanding officers, and eye sore of cannons.
Vincent saw something out of the corner of his eyes. The scarred gothic patterns that remained on the wall shifted imperfectly against the molten metal and blown out marble of the palace, this meant something was in the room with them and heard everything. In Vincent's mind, whether Imperial or Xenos, it heard too much and had to be eliminated. He slowly shifted his hand down to his artisan bolt pistol, while Colonel Hales clutched the hilt of his power sword. It hissed to life as he pulled it out, a hazy blue field of energy wrapped itself around the blade.
They both moved slowly through the empty room, pointing their weapons at anything that moved and only staying an arm length apart from each other. Vincent's cybernetic eye had had both heat and night vision, while Hales had minor psyker abilities, allowing them both to transverse through the darkness with relative ease. But, as if the Emperor himself commanded it, the room lit up in an explosion of plasma bursts.
Those kinds of rounds only came from Tau Burst Cannons. The damn Xenos' had sent in their stealth teams to finish them off instead of attacking them head on, the cowards! Vincent, who had experience fighting the Tau, leapt out of the way and managed to find cover amongst the rubble of a fallen statue, but Hales, who had no experience against the Eastern foes, had none and was encased in a cocoon of white heated energy. It happened so fast, Hales barely had time to scream a prayer to the Emperor as his skin burnt away and bones were reduced to ash. In the end, only his sword remained, and by the Throne, Vincent was not going down the same way.
He loaded his bolt-pistol with armor-piercing rounds and grabbed a concussion grenade grenade from his belt. Knowing Tau Infiltration teams, they always loved to over-use a strategy, thinking that their enemies would be too traumatized or enraged at seeing a comrade die like that. This made the Tau cocky, gullible and easy targets.
He pulled the pin and through the grenade over the rubble. When it exploded, Vincent rolled from cover and fixed his sights on the explosion. The grenade was made for disorientating and subduing tragets, and optics inside a battlesuit just amplified it, so it would be like shooting fish in a barrel in Vincent's mind. But there were no fish to shoot though, because there was no target.
Clearly the grenade had failed and he had blown his own cover. He could feel slight pressure from a gun barrel on his back, and he knew he was done for.
"Surrender now, human," The assailant said in an overly mechanical voice. "Your Emperor left you here to die alone on a frozen planet. Unlike him, we will show mercy. Join the Greater Good, and become one of us!"
"You keep your Greater Good!" Vincent said. "Our faith is in the Emperor, you will all die for heresy!"
Before the Stealth Hunter could activate its Burst Cannon, Vincent had decided to rob the alien of true victory. He said the final prayer, and fired a bolt straight through his temple. It was a shame on his part, because the display of the Imperial base exploding in a fire ball was completely breath taking.
The planet Feronis Prime, within the Eastern edge of the Ultramar, a planet under attack by an human extremist group known as the Imperium of Man. Standing against the Imperium are a group of aliens and humans known as Osman's Cadre, under the command of Gue'vesa'O Kain Osman. A former Colonel from the Imperium of Man, he and the majority of his regiment committed the ultimate sin of deserting the army to join the Tau's Greater Good.
Under Osman's command, the Tau Empire has started their Fourth and Fifth Sphere expansions, nearly tripling in size and power, and acquiring artifacts that had benefitted their society; case and point, the Tau GeoFronts. They were made by the engineers of the Earth Caste to help transform planets that were deemed uninhabitable and turn them into lush and fertile homes once more.
Their last engagement against the Imperium in the system was a victory, but at a cost. Kain had lost twelve good warriors in the fight today, making the entire casualty roster up to fifty. Fifty casualties did not sound like a lot to most. In fact, given the ferocity of the fighting he had seen, it sounded incredibly low. Back when he was a field officer in the Imperial Guard he had seen and been in conflicts where the daily tolls ran into the thousands and by the ends would hit the high millions. But it was clear from his body language and tone that he was genuinely saddened by the campaign's losses.
"Sir? Are you all right?" A human Earth Caste engineer assisted him his battlesuit.
"I'm alive, and I still have most of my hair." He ran a hand across his face. Where there was once coarse stubbles was now smooth skin. Fortunately they were in the GeoFront, so it would not turn to frost bite in mere seconds. "I suppose that's enough for now."
He took a breath, taking in the warm, humid air. It felt good. It meant he and the remaining of his warriors were alive. The engineer handed him a canteen, and he gracious took a huge gulp from it…. Only to spit it back out.
"What the hell is this stuff?!" He coughed, giving the canteen back.
"We call it Caste Juice, sir. It's a nice blend of the residue from the burst cannon's cool tanks, with Kroot ale, and a few secret ingredients."
"By the Emperor—This stuff will rot your inners." Kain kept coughing up the sharp tasting drink.
"Maybe so, but it's a good pick me up when you need one."
Kain looked past the engineer and saw someone he did not want to deal with right now; Commander Silenthunter.
"Ah hell and damnation," he spoke in a language native to his home world.
Kauyon'Do was a product of his breed. He was from Sa'cre, one of many Tau military centers that produce a very high proportion of exceptionally-disciplined and honorable Fire Warriors, and he acts the way he was taught. Problem is that he has a sense of the dramatics, usually unleashing the full might of his broadsides at the last possible moment. Kain never studied artillery strategies, Tau or other kind, but something in his marrow told him that was something not taught on Sa'cre.
The problem was not Kauyan'Do, it was who was following him; Aun'Saal Ya'ri. A young ethereal who seemed to be of a scholar who would rather be locked up in a study somewhere reading scrolls from the beginning of time rather than one of Farsight's students. He definitely looked the part of an ethereal – the ruling class of Tau – with bright white, red, and gold robes. His staff of office, a delicately ornamented honour blade set upon a tall cane of fio'tak seemed to mimic his emotions. He took small steps as he talked, turning from squad to squad who addressed him, showing as much consideration to the warriors who were defending him.
"Damn Farsight, did you run out of good Ethereals on T'au? Or do you just like screwing with me?"
"Gue'vesa'O Osman," Ya'ri spoke in T'au, but was gracious enough to do the human custom of shaking hands. "You're reputation excels you. From what I hear, you single handily turned the tide on the Eastern Front, now the gue'las are in full retreat out of the sector."
"I just lead support sir," Kain responded in T'au, shaking the ethereal's hand. The you aun'saal had no real grip in his hand, in fact all his strength was being used to keep himself from shaking. "my warriors won the day, and Kauyon'Do here saved my life. Without him, you would be talking to a hollow, more hole ridden corpse."
Ya'ri laughed at his comment. Not a full-hearty laugh, but one that showed he got the joke. "You must tell me about your time on the front lines. What was it like fighting your own kind?"
"As great as the boot in your face if you keep this up!" Kain never liked young ethereals, they were either too scarred or too boastful for his liking. But Farsight would never let him live it down if he struck one, so he came up a lie. "My ajadet AIs will fill you in, and Kauyon'Do certainly has more interesting stories than I do, but the battle has made me tired and uninteresting. Maybe another time."
Later, in his own quarters, Kain activated a small wooden shrine dedicated to the God Emperor. The tiny statue was carved out of dazzling white holy marble, and his armor and throne were made from pure silver. The box itself was no cheap piece of oak, but hand crafted from Cadia redwood. It cost him half a year of officer pay, but it was worth it.
"Dearest God Emperor," he began to pray. "In your name I fought against my enemies and by your will I and most of my warriors are alive. I also seek forgiveness; for though I fight in your name, I must kill others who do the same. All mighty God-Emperor, please, forgive this humble servant, but I believe I am doing the right thing. Please, grant me a sign so I know you also agree."
The door to his quarters opened, and Kain reflexively pulled out his plasma-pistol from its holster, but lowered it when he saw who it was.
"Whoa! That's a little too kinky even for me," The female Tau said, her hands up in surrender as the business end of the pistol pointed straight at her. "Jhi'kaara reporting for duty, Gue'vesa'O,"
She was red-eyed, pale blue-grey skin, and unpretentiously pretty – for a Tau – with glossy jet-black hair that was held up with two golden pins. There was a Railgun slung across one shoulder, two bonding knives in an X of a sheath worked into her tight-fitting stealth-suit, and on each shapely hip was a EMP pistol. Her bare arms were spiraled with tattoos of T'au, and on her face was a long, jagged scar on her upper jaw on the left side and running down her cheek. That was a an accident caused by a chainsword , and how she got her name Jhi'kaara; the Broken Mirror.
"Guess I lost the match," Kain said as he put his pistol back into the holster. "Then again, you're cheating. A bit much on the hardware, don't you think?"
"A Pathfinder team said that an Imperial ko'miz'sar was executing soldiers and civilians who deserted or sought Tau help. So I was ordered to take him out."
More along the lines of she heard that there was a commissar, and decided to hunt him down before the pathfinders could get back to base. No one in the Tau Empire ever liked commissars, but Jhi'kaara had a personal vendetta against them and the scar to prove it.
"So how did your original mission go?" Kain asked, already knowing the answer. He went to his small bar and pulled out some ale from his home world.
"Simple, easy and efficient," she said as she pulled the pins out of her hair, allowing it to fall freely down her back. "With their commanders dead, artillery destroyed, command center on fire, and your proposition, their chain fell. Most turned tail and ran; others decided to get some payback."
"And you didn't stay and help?" he asked as he poured her a glass.
"Not my job." She stripped herself of her equipment, and left them on the floor. She then sprawled out on Kain's bed.
"Fair enough," He handed her the small glass. "Skoal!"
They clanged glasses and drained their glasses. The potency and intoxicating nature of the drink made them both fuzzy by the third drink, and by the time they finish the bottle they could barely see straight. When Kain finally came out of his drunken coma, he found himself in his bed, completely naked with Jhi'kaara curled up next to him equally naked. He held the small alien closure to him, enjoying how soft her body felt against his, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Description

Secession
Allow a single rebel world go unpunished and countless more will rise up, all clamoring for those religious and economic freedoms better known to loyal citizens of the Imperium as heresy and ingratitude.
On the world of Feronis Pima, the seeds of rebellion were planted in the hard frozen mud that had ravaged the planet for over twelve hundred years. It began when volcanic eruptions on the northern continent, near the pole and spewed poisonous mud and ash all over the planet. The sudden climatic change wiped out over half of the eighty million human populations and reduced planetary productivity to almost nothing. On countless occasions in the years that followed, one loyalist governor after another begged the Administratum for aid. Eventually, the Administratum approved the deferment of Imperial tributes, but more direct aid in the form of food, medicine, and technologies was repeatedly denied. Imperial coffers, the Feronins were told, were being drained by anti-xenos campaigns throughout the segmentum.
When the remaining Feronin scientists finally announced the beginning of a return to warmer temperatures, the population had dropped to a two-thirds loss of it pre-catastrophic figures. But there was another force present on Feronis Pima's World, for which none of the generals and their Imperial Guardsmen was unprepared – a force that would claim all too many of which ever faction tried to take it.
For centuries, the insufferable Tau had been expanding their Empire into the Fourth and Fifth sept, after they're crushing victory over the Ultramarines on Macragge. The traitor, Colonel Kain Russell Osman, and his brood of xenos scum and heretics alike had been taking more and more worlds after Macragge fell. Circe, Tarentus, Quintarn, Masail and countless others fell to Tau forces under Osman's command in seventy-two hours. More secure locations, like Talasa Prime and Konor, fell within two weeks. Even planets, like Espandor and Calth, had fallen under Tau control. With those planets gone, the Tau have complete control of their recourse, territories and technology that dates back to the Dark Age of Technology. Because of this, the Tau Empire had received a booster shot, if such, in furthering their technological advances.
The Valhallan Twelfth and Vostroyan eighty-fifth had been sent to originally crush the Feronin rebels, restore order, secure any artifacts, secure the artifact and return to the Fourth Black Crusade on Cadia. But with the arrival of Kain and his damn caste, the simple conflict had turned into a fell out war.
The old foe, for you see, wants everything but values nothing.
Extract: Hammer and Bolter: Collected Essay from the Fourth and Fifth Sphere Expanse, eds. Commissar. Jillian von Kisser.
Morning at the Eastern Front began, as it most often did, with the dark sky shifting from midnight blue to slate-grey. Down on the ground, everything was turning brilliant white. Only regular clearance work prevented the heavy snow from filling the Tau trenches. Out here, eight kilometers east of the proper towns, or any proper settlements that the Earth Caste had cut into the frozen earth. If Kain lived through this campaign – and odds of that were unsure at that – he was sure he'd remember it, not for the fury of the incorrigible Vostroyans or bull-headed Valhallans, but for the relentless assault of the planet's deep winter.
Icy winds gusted down the firing trench, catching the snow as it fell, and hurling it against his army with a fury that was almost a living force. Heavy fur scarves and cloaks became coated on their windward side. But the warriors under his command had weathered worse in their time. It would take more than the Feronis Pima ice-age to shake their morale to the fight.
Kain moved up to the firing step, raised his unprotected head over the lip of the trench and peered out between coils of rusting razorwire and sandbags that were frozen harder than rocks. The deep winter had pulled powdery blankets over yesterday's dead, and there was little evidence of violence that had shaken the planet. Only irregular mounds of snow on the otherwise level battlefield hinted at the multitude of dead Imperials that lay beneath.
Given the holy white that lay before him, it was hard to believe a battle had fought here at all: no scorched ground, no smoking craters. Yet, barely twenty hours ago, Kain had led his platoon of Tau Fire Warriors, Humans, Kroots, and Vespids in a bloody offense to these very trenches.
Here he was again, called back from the warmth of his bunk after XV25 stealth teams had alerted the regiment to a massing of enemy forces beyond the tree line to the east. Tired as they were, those off-duty had quickly reassembled to face the inevitable attack.
The Imperium, damn them all, seemed impervious to the deep winter. The Vostroyans and Valhallans were used to fighting in these conditions. Unfortunately, so were Kain's forces.
On either side of Kain, the trenches snaked north and south into the snow veiled distance, filled with men, women and aliens in greatcoats and armor of his Forty-Third Regiment's Seventh Company. The stamped their feet on the frozen planking of the trenched floor, and rubbed armored glove hands over their weapons to brush away the snow and ice. Their pockets were bulging with power-packs for their Pulse Rifles waiting to be loading at the last minute so that the cold would not make the barrel brittle and breakable.
There were four hundred and fifty-six Taus, Humans, Kroots and Vespids at the last count, spread across five platoons. He started off with five hundred. Forty-four had been lost trying to take the trench systems away from the Valhallans. At certain points along the lines were mixed teams of heavy bolter teams, lascannon crews, and drone sentry turret armed with burst cannons and missile pods.
Kain pulled his scarf down for a moment, so he could scratch his face where the stumbles of coarse hair on his face. The bitter air nipped at his exposed skin. Every face around him was covered against the cold, some had scarves and greatcoats and gloves over their armor, others with rebreather masks that offered better protection against the elements, but reduced peripheral vision. Kain had always allowed his soldiers a certain amount of freedom in the way they configured their gear. Each soldier knew themselves best, after all. Even so, he'd have welcomed the chance to read their expressions as they readied themselves for the inevitable Imperium assault.
"Stand strong," he thought. "You're tired, cold and hungry, I know, but after this battle, we've got some rest and relaxation. Hold fast until then."
He knew there would be mistakes brought on by exhaustion, and decided to order extra checks on cold climate discipline. He was originally from Valhalla, so he knew what threats to look out for. Pneumonia and frostbite were constant threats on worlds like this. The deep winter stalked every man and woman here, whether human or xenos, waiting for a simple mistake, for a chance to claim the lives of the careless.
Early in the conflict, the youngest and greenest Tau and Kroots under his command had suffered in depressingly high numbers. Frostbite: for some it was lips or what they had for a nose, for others it was fingers or toes. Thankfully the Earth Caste was able to make some upgrades to the armor that kept the remaining warriors alive, but one fracture in the suits would cause instant freezing under a minute.
The humans, on the other hand, he did not really worry about. They were mixed veterans from worlds like this. There were from Valhallans, Firstborns, even Stormtroopers from Cadia. Many were veterans who, like Kain, had opted to serve beyond their ten years of compulsory service. Such men and women would have sensed the coming storm of battle just as he had.
Three Vespid flyers flew in, landing in front of him. Each one carried a neutron blaster and a few EMP grenades. He sent them ahead to set up melta bombs to double as mines, and demolition charges to cause the Imperium advance trouble.
"How does it look?" Kain asked.
"The gue'las are sending their remaining regiment here," one Vespid said, speaking in a tone of gothic that was most made out of insect-like clicks.
"I see," Kain said with a yawn. "Go back to the GeoFront. Tell the Earth caste that we need those Broadsides. Those Imperial bastards are going to come at us with everything they got, and we need all the help we can get."
"Yes, Gue'vesa'O Osman." The Vespids turned to his comrades, said something to them in its native tongue, and flew back to the GeoFronts.
Kain tried to gauge the mood of the soldiers around him. Despite their being covered head to toe against the razor wind, it wasn't all that hard to sense their agitation. Their bodies were in continuous motion, keeping their joints loose and their blood pumping in readiness for combat. It kept them warm, which was good for the Tau. They hated the cold. Many were veterans who, like Kain, had opted to serve beyond their ten years of compulsory service before joining the Empire. Such soldiers could sense the coming storm of battle as he had.
He raised his magnoculars and squinted into the lense, picking up the tree line just over five kilometers east of their position. Small tremors and the thick plums of black smoke coming from the Mortan forest told him that the Imperial advance was becoming more heated and desperate. As he adjusted the magnification, bringing the wall of blue pine into sharp focus, a Chimera limped out. It was on fire and completely out of control. Half the hull was melted away, the other half was melting, and when it fell into a small embankment the transport exploded in a beautiful display of instant death to anything around it. A few of his soldiers moved as hot shrapnel rained on them.
"Hold your positions," Kain reminded them, keeping the soldiers within the trenches to avoid going for trophies.
After watching for another minute with no further sign of movement, Kain returned his magnoculars to the case on his belt and decided to get suited up.
After the conquest of Macragge, the Tau's military gear had received a type of booster shot as earth caste engineers dismantled Ultramarine war gear, power weapons, vehicles and relics and applied them to the Greater Good. As a type reward from the Etheral caste, Kain was allowed to build his own battlesuit, using the designs he picked up.
Kain's suit was quickly becoming the normal for human battlesuits. It had the build of an X89 Crisis suit, so it outfitted with heavier armor for enhanced protection, but had a very human feel to it. On one arm was a burst cannon that had the words "RAVEN HUNTER" painted along the barrel; his way of paying homage to the Second War for Nimbosa. While on the other was fitted with a power fist that had four retractable lightning claws that he personally pulled off a dead Raven Guard.
He turned and muttered a curse against the Imperial dogs. His regimental tech-priest, enginseer Mehmed, was deeper in the complex of trenches, cleaning out the small piles of ash that collected under the joints. His actions, and robotized grumbling, showed a mild frustration.
Some two thousand years after the massive volcanic eruption in the far north had kick-started Feronis Prime's ice age, tiny particles of volcanic debris in high atmosphere always seemed to rain down and collect on anything and everything.
"Colonel," said Mehmed as he closed the power fist arm up. "your suit had collected more than a year of ash in vital areas. Thank the Emperor that it had not killed you."
"Maybe it's my dumb luck that's saving me." Kain said as he shed his great coat. "Why don't you let the drones take care of that? That is what I assigned them for."
"They are far too naïve, sir." Mehmet said. "They have the Machine Spirit, but not the mind. They're plasma cutters could fuse volcanic glass to metal and cause the whole system to explode."
"Sometimes I feel guilty for making deal with bots that makes your life one-hundred percent easier."
Mehmet gave off a sarcastic, mechanical chuckle. "Just do me a favor, and don't die out there. It'll be a shame to see such a beautiful machine to die out there, and I don't want to end up on a firing squad."
Kain was about to answer when the vox-bead in his ear crackled. It was Lieutenant Dales, commander of ninth platoon. "Dales to company leader. Movement amongst the trees. Lots of movements!"
Kain climbed inside his battlesuit, positioning himself into the padding that conformed to his body. The suit's servos came to life with a quiet rumble, quickly fading to near silence. A low whine came from behind him, complex machinery sliding on well-oiled rails into position. He winced, preparing himself. He hated this part!
A special liquid, clear as water and as thick as syrup, started to enter the suit. There was no point in holding his breath; because once his lungs were filled he could breathe normally. But he usually had the human instinct to do it, which made his fingers and toes curl.
Now he was the machine. He flexed a limb experimentally, enjoying the sensation of reasserted control as the drowning nausea faded. His arm – his real one – remained positioned by his side, nestled snugly in its padded bindings. Instead, sensed rather than seen, a heavy power fist, completer with Raven lightning claws, flex from the massive shoulder of the suit.
He moved the muscles of his neck, mentally commanding his skull to rotate and allow him the opportunity to look around. His vertebrae remained straight and immobile but the optics cluster perched atop the suit oscillated and flexed – a replacement cranium just as responsive to his neural commands as the real thing. Flicking through spectral filters was a simple as blinking.
He examined his surroundings. The bunker hold was a cavern of pale, cold concrete that looked like it needed major repairs before another artillery strike took it down. Four other suits, X8 Crisis Battlesuits, hulked near him. Earth caste drones and Enginseers equipped missile pods and plasma canons to their arms. One suit raised its right limb, heavy flamer fuel lines automatically slackening to compensate for the movement, and ignited its pilot light with a quiet hiss. Another was equipped with a pair of battledrones, held aloft on thrumming anti-grav fields, diagnostically manipulating the heavy weapons slung to their bellies, checking targeting facilities and functionality.
"Interface successful," Mehmet grunted, instinctually looking at all of Kain's, and his staff's, vital signs on a tablet.
"Status checks," he commanded to his staff.
"Ready." Said Shas'la Chou.
"Ready." Said Shas'ui Ju.
"Ready." Said Shas'ui Kais.
Kain keyed the company command channel on his suit's vox, cleared his throat and said, "Colonel Osman to all platoon leaders. I want all squads on full alert. Wake up, ladies and gentlemen. Expect a charge from the tree line any minute. We really pissed them off."
Kain's officers broke through the static with brief confirmations.
Moving through the tight tunnels became harder due to Kain's enhanced size, but he maneuvered himself to the front line with ease.
He flexed his fingers. That feeling had descended on him again, the tightness in his muscles, in his gut, as if he needed to piss. He knew it was partly the cold trying to keep in, but it was more than just that.
Adrenaline slowly increased. He always felt it before a battle. Another tide of pointless violence was building, and about to spill over on them, eroding the relative silence of the deep winter. The feeling was so strong that he felt a shock of doubt run through his mind.
How many will I lose this time? Twenty? Thirty? All of them. By Terra and the Greater Good, let it be less or none at all.
If he worked smart, and if the Emperor was truly with him, maybe he could keep the numbers down.
He keyed his vox to company's open channel and addressed his troops. "Ready yourselves, xenos and heretics. Check your kit. Follow your platoon leaders."
Up and down the line, he could sense his soldiers preparing themselves, switching mental gears at the sound of his voice. There was more than enough time for him to whisper a small prayer to the Emperor. "Emperor, bestow on me Your righteous fury and Your furious strength. Let me become the storm that blasts the enemy from Your sight."
"That'll have to do," thought Kain. "I've never been much of a spiritual man, Emperor forgive me."
Shas'ui T'au Kai spoke from behind him. "Gue'vesa'O, Second and Eighth Companies are reporting movement all along the lines. Looks like a big one."
As if on cue, an all too familiar sound erupted from the distant trees: the rage-filled battle cry that the Imperial Guard gives off right before a suicide charge. If the sub-zero temperatures of the frozen Feronis Prima days weren't bad enough, a roar from men with guns to their heads would do it. More human roaring sounded on the air, racing over the right white drifts to the ears of the anxious front line, signaling for the battle to start.
"Get over to the southern line, Kais. Keep me up on the status of the Second and Eighth. We don't want any surprises."
"Understood, Gue'vesa'O," replied Kais. His suit's jetpacks flared bright blue, and the snow and ice and rock melted around him as he took off.
"Ju, head up to the northern line and support the ninth through fifteenth."
"Yes, gue'vesa'O."
"Chou, you're with me. Let's send these zealots into the graves they been so happily digging for themselves!" Kain switch to the company's channel. "Ready yourselves, heretics and xenos."
Railguns and carbine charge packs were drawn from pockets all along the trench, and clicked into place under long, polished barrels.
"Maintain fire discipline. Power setting at maximum. Choose your targets. I want redundancy minimized. Remember, all of you, that temperature, visibility and the nature of our opponent have reduced lethal approximately in half – for them. We are a part of the Tau Empire. We can hit a fly half a continent away, so I expect seeing plenty of death lines between here and the forest."
In scholas and academies across the Imperium, officers and commissars were taught how to tap that faith. There were entire study programs dedicated to battlefield oration, but that didn't help Kain, because his was field commission. Everything he knew about leadership had been learnt the hard way, through blood, sweat, tears and switching sides on battlefields from Cadia to the Eastern fringe.
As is summoned by the thought, they showed themselves now, bellowing their challenge as they broke cover. They crashed from between the trees, a thunderous tide of indoctrinated cannon fodder, led by fanatical commissars and cheered on by insane priests, kicked up great sprays of snow as they raced over no-man's land towards the Tau lines.
"Mark your targets," ordered Kain. "First volley on my order. Not one shot till we see their breath misting in the air. Allow them to extend themselves. Heavy gunners and sentry drones on dense knots only, please. And whoever takes out their commissars or priests will receive a two week furlough!"
Normally Kain would clutch a pendant that lay beneath his clothes. It wasn't anything holy, but it was given to by someone who he deeply cared about. It was replicate of a kroot fang, made from polished onyx, and hung from a worn leather strap around his neck. A pretty common souvenir within the Empire, but it served as a sort of good luck charm.
He mumbled a quick prayer for the one who gave him the necklace and armed his weapons. "Let's break their backs!"
Kain felt his adrenaline surge as he watched the enemy speed towards them, signaling his suit's and body's readiness for the fight. The cold lost some of its bite. His fatigue faded and all his long years of front-line training and experience rose to the fore.
Along the trench in directions, men, women, both Tau and human alike, made ready to fire at the tide of charging humans. He raised his power-fist arm high above his head. Out on the snowfields, the human stampede swept closer.
Kain fired several burst shots at the charging horde, thinning out the line and voxed the words his fire warriors were waiting for. "Open fire!"
A searing volley of bright blue plasma bolts blazed from the trenches, each shot slicing through the air with a distinctive hiss-crack. Scores of charging Imperials howled in agony and fell clutching their blown off body parts. Las-guns and grenade luanchers were flung aside as bodies tumbled to lifeless heap. But for all those that fell, there were hundred more that took their place. Their flak armour did very little to protect them from the Fire warriors' accuracy.
The heavy bolters, lascannons, and sentry turrets opened fire, filling any warrior's ears with deep machine chatter. Down the line he saw a large explosion of fire scorch across the snowfield, melting the ice, rock and flesh.
"Kais, tell second through eighth to fire at will," voxed Kain. "They do not get to the trenches. Do you hear? Fire at will!"
Enemy las-fire, hot enough to scorch through any human body, bit great chunks of frozen dirt from the sandbags on the trench lip. They were sending in kasrkin trooper now. They were the elite troopers of the Imperial Guard, and came with the best weapons, armour, and training; not to mention their moral was unwavering.
"Take those bastards down, Fire Warriors. Don't repeat what happened on Carthage!"
All of his veteran warriors would understand that. Carthage was the bloodiest campaign to date for the Empire. All in city, close combat fighting with no support from their Kroot of Vespid allies, so learning how to perform, and excel at hand-to-hand combat quickly became a life or death difference. During that time, Kain highly supported looting dead kasrkins, stealing any power weapons they had. Afterwards, his superiors tried to find ways in incorporating melee fighting into standard Tau military tactics.
But this was not Carthage, too clean and cold for Carthage, and hopefully being with human comrades were more than enough training for what might happen. Hopefully, that might never happen.
High velocity laser beams repelled off his shields, causing them to flare and dance with the most brilliant and deadly colors. Kain just had to think of leaping, and he was already in the air. His burst cannon was already firing before he hit the ground, but the problem was that the super-charged bolts of plasma made no man's land softer than he would've liked it. If there wasn't a layer of bodies under him, he surely would've been trapped in the quick freezing mud.
Kain swung his over-sized fist into a knot of kasrkins, making their lifeless bodies high into the air. Another squad tried to flank him from the side, but they soon experienced Tau legendary accuracy. His actions lead a form of inspiration in his warriors, and their solid firing discipline and Fire Warrior accuracy were taking their tolls on the humans. Out in no man's land, the first charge broke. Stragglers turned and sped back towards the trees to join up the second wave.
The heavy rattling and booming from the heavy weapons ceased.
Kain keyed up his vox again. "Good work, Fire Warriors, but this is no time for back-slaps and souvenir hunting. Give me casualty report."
"Ju reporting in. Ninth through thirteenth suffered minium injuries, no casualties."
"Kais reporting. Second through eighth suffered five casualties. They tried a suicide bombing with a Chimera."
Terrific. They switched to blowing themselves up.
Before he got his own casualty report, another wave of Imperial Guardsmen had already broken from the trees; this time with Leman Russ battle tanks.
"Second wave," he called. "Ammo counters and charge packs, all of you! Lascannons, concentrate all fire on those tanks!"
Emperor above, prayed Kain, give us strength.
Bright streams of white light scorched from the trench and made contact with the tank's side, buying Kain enough time to claw his way out of the frozen earth, and make it back to the trenches. A salvo of Smart Missiles screamed across no-man land, smashed into the hull of the closest tanks, causing them to blow up instantly. The remaining flew over the dead and caused only minor damage to the second wave.
One of the damned Imperium's tanks managed to smash through the flaming wreckage of the first wave, sustaining minor damage and breaking through with its heavy bolter blazing. Its Battle Cannon fired, blinded by the smoke and fire, causing a small tremor and an unmanned pillbox exploded into a hail of heated rocks.
Putting most of his power into the legs, Kain fired himself from the trenches and smashed into the tank's heavy hull. Both his suit and the tank began to push against each other, neither one giving an inch of ground, and his shields were being whittled away buy the heavy bolter fire. The liquids inside his suit began to heat and boil to unbearable levels. Now he was missing the bone-biting cold outside. Switching all auxiliary power to his power gauntlet, he struck into the hull causing it to heavily dent and probably killing the gunner and injuring the driver. Giving a quick prayer of forgiveness to the Emperor, the long claws shot into the tank and the beast died then and there.
Kain gave a small sigh of relief. His warriors were safe for now. But the chill of battle quickly took him over. There were still more tanks, and his suit was completely drained of power. He struggled to move, but nothing was working. Everything was either drained of dangerously overheated, and knowing what the Imperial Guard did to humans, especially former officers, who deserted and switched side he almost prayed for death then being at the mercy of the damn Inquisition.
The frozen earth beneath him began to tremor once more, and Kain braced for the worst. One moment dragged by, then another, and then another. No damage was happening to his suit; in fact the Imperial tanks were in a full retreat and his own fire warriors had gone over the trench line and began to hunt down the remaining infinity.
Thank the Throne, he relaxed a bit in his suit. The tremors he was feeling were rail-blasts coming from unexpected, not waited for, and unanticipated Broadsuit support coming from Shas'El Kauyon'Do – better known as Commander Silenthunter. Seemed a bit ironic to have a name like that, considering he is the head of the mobile artillery on Feronis Prima.
There was a slight tapping on the hull of his suit. Not from lasgun fire, but from a certain techpriest.
"Commander," his voice was muffled by the suit. "are you all right in there?"
"Yeah," he answered, thank the emperor. The heavy doors opened and blistering white steam poured out, melting both ice and metal. Kain's skin was shining red, his own sweat turning to steam in the cold air, and most of his facial hair was gone. "Mehmet, patch me onto the Imperium's vox."
Mehmet called up the vox officer, a young kid named Alex, who managed to successfully patch him through to the Imperium's vox. Meaning he the second part of his plan worked, now he had to do his part.
"Attention all remaining Imperial forces – this is Commander Kain Russell Osman. Your own commanders and commissars are dead, and there is no fleet coming to re-enforce you. If you throw down your arms, you will not be persecuted or taken prisoner. Our water caste healers will look after your injured, and we will arrange transport back to Sigmentum Command. Any who wish to join us is free to do so, and any who wish to violently resist us will eradicate. The choice is, and always will be, yours."
At the same time of the drawn out battle, at the Imperium's main base, located in the old ruins of the capital city of Bryiron. They had sent out ninety-percent of their forces in a last ditch effort to push the Tau back, leaving just a handful of personal, even a smaller amount of veterans, to guard their base. This meant there were plenty gaps in their defenses for a single infiltrator to sneak in a cause some major damage.
General Vincent Coles, head of the Valhallan Twelth, known as the Iron Bears, sat in the ruins of what had been the Militant Governer's manor. He watched a small procession of Chimeras and Leman Russ Tanks move out to the front. Sentinels and his remaining men stood at direct attention, saluting off the remaining heavy firepower, and any who didn't quickly found themselves in front of a firing squad.
Colonel Zavid Hales, head of the Vostroyan eighty-fifth, entered the room, saluted and then stood at the ready. Vincent only gave a shrill nod and talked with a voice sharper than ice, "How are the men?"
"Tolerable, sir."
"Morale?"
"Good at central, but poor in the front."
"Causualties?"
"The same, maybe worse, sir."
"Firing squads?"
"Twenty today. Twelve for cowardice in the line of duty, and six for abandoning their posts, sir."
"Baneblades?"
"No word on when the fleets are going to bring them in, sir."
"I see," he gave a harsh grumble. "Look at this place. Once this was a fine city. A gleaming example of the Emperor's light – a center of industry, progess, and life. Now look at it. Hales, I will like to see this city built up again. I would like to see towers and spire of gleaming white. I would like to see our men on parade routes, not tour of duty. I would like to see every city on this planet, every colony in this blasted, besotted, miserable system turned to the service and industry of the imperium. And most importantly, I do not want to see all of that under the hands of the damned Xenos, in the Emperor's name!"
"In the Emperor's name, sir." Hales responded.
"But to see these dreams fulfilled, we must purge this planet clean of the Xenos and heretics and monsters which plague it." He continued. "And to do that, this base, our current center of command, must operate free of danger or harassment. Our remaining troops are ready. Our tanks, our Sentinels, our artillery, and Emperor will it; we will not need Baneblade support. So I will ask you again, Colonel – are we prepared? Or are we playing in the palms of the Xeno's hand?"
"We do what we can - and pray for victory." Said Hales, speaking more like a commissar then an officer. "Our enhanced Basilisk cannons have been prepared by our Techpriest Enginseers, has it not? They can be fired at will. If the heretic decides to march his army here, we will blow him and his lot straight to hell."
To a shadow, that was more than enough to end this base. The information had been tapped, the artifacts secure, and the vox systems hacked into. Their commissars and field officers were all dead, now all remained was their obnoxious artillery, annoying commanding officers, and eye sore of cannons.
Vincent saw something out of the corner of his eyes. The scarred gothic patterns that remained on the wall shifted imperfectly against the molten metal and blown out marble of the palace, this meant something was in the room with them and heard everything. In Vincent's mind, whether Imperial or Xenos, it heard too much and had to be eliminated. He slowly shifted his hand down to his artisan bolt pistol, while Colonel Hales clutched the hilt of his power sword. It hissed to life as he pulled it out, a hazy blue field of energy wrapped itself around the blade.
They both moved slowly through the empty room, pointing their weapons at anything that moved and only staying an arm length apart from each other. Vincent's cybernetic eye had had both heat and night vision, while Hales had minor psyker abilities, allowing them both to transverse through the darkness with relative ease. But, as if the Emperor himself commanded it, the room lit up in an explosion of plasma bursts.
Those kinds of rounds only came from Tau Burst Cannons. The damn Xenos' had sent in their stealth teams to finish them off instead of attacking them head on, the cowards! Vincent, who had experience fighting the Tau, leapt out of the way and managed to find cover amongst the rubble of a fallen statue, but Hales, who had no experience against the Eastern foes, had none and was encased in a cocoon of white heated energy. It happened so fast, Hales barely had time to scream a prayer to the Emperor as his skin burnt away and bones were reduced to ash. In the end, only his sword remained, and by the Throne, Vincent was not going down the same way.
He loaded his bolt-pistol with armor-piercing rounds and grabbed a concussion grenade grenade from his belt. Knowing Tau Infiltration teams, they always loved to over-use a strategy, thinking that their enemies would be too traumatized or enraged at seeing a comrade die like that. This made the Tau cocky, gullible and easy targets.
He pulled the pin and through the grenade over the rubble. When it exploded, Vincent rolled from cover and fixed his sights on the explosion. The grenade was made for disorientating and subduing tragets, and optics inside a battlesuit just amplified it, so it would be like shooting fish in a barrel in Vincent's mind. But there were no fish to shoot though, because there was no target.
Clearly the grenade had failed and he had blown his own cover. He could feel slight pressure from a gun barrel on his back, and he knew he was done for.
"Surrender now, human," The assailant said in an overly mechanical voice. "Your Emperor left you here to die alone on a frozen planet. Unlike him, we will show mercy. Join the Greater Good, and become one of us!"
"You keep your Greater Good!" Vincent said. "Our faith is in the Emperor, you will all die for heresy!"
Before the Stealth Hunter could activate its Burst Cannon, Vincent had decided to rob the alien of true victory. He said the final prayer, and fired a bolt straight through his temple. It was a shame on his part, because the display of the Imperial base exploding in a fire ball was completely breath taking.
The planet Feronis Prime, within the Eastern edge of the Ultramar, a planet under attack by an human extremist group known as the Imperium of Man. Standing against the Imperium are a group of aliens and humans known as Osman's Cadre, under the command of Gue'vesa'O Kain Osman. A former Colonel from the Imperium of Man, he and the majority of his regiment committed the ultimate sin of deserting the army to join the Tau's Greater Good.
Under Osman's command, the Tau Empire has started their Fourth and Fifth Sphere expansions, nearly tripling in size and power, and acquiring artifacts that had benefitted their society; case and point, the Tau GeoFronts. They were made by the engineers of the Earth Caste to help transform planets that were deemed uninhabitable and turn them into lush and fertile homes once more.
Their last engagement against the Imperium in the system was a victory, but at a cost. Kain had lost twelve good warriors in the fight today, making the entire casualty roster up to fifty. Fifty casualties did not sound like a lot to most. In fact, given the ferocity of the fighting he had seen, it sounded incredibly low. Back when he was a field officer in the Imperial Guard he had seen and been in conflicts where the daily tolls ran into the thousands and by the ends would hit the high millions. But it was clear from his body language and tone that he was genuinely saddened by the campaign's losses.
"Sir? Are you all right?" A human Earth Caste engineer assisted him his battlesuit.
"I'm alive, and I still have most of my hair." He ran a hand across his face. Where there was once coarse stubbles was now smooth skin. Fortunately they were in the GeoFront, so it would not turn to frost bite in mere seconds. "I suppose that's enough for now."
He took a breath, taking in the warm, humid air. It felt good. It meant he and the remaining of his warriors were alive. The engineer handed him a canteen, and he gracious took a huge gulp from it…. Only to spit it back out.
"What the hell is this stuff?!" He coughed, giving the canteen back.
"We call it Caste Juice, sir. It's a nice blend of the residue from the burst cannon's cool tanks, with Kroot ale, and a few secret ingredients."
"By the Emperor—This stuff will rot your inners." Kain kept coughing up the sharp tasting drink.
"Maybe so, but it's a good pick me up when you need one."
Kain looked past the engineer and saw someone he did not want to deal with right now; Commander Silenthunter.
"Ah hell and damnation," he spoke in a language native to his home world.
Kauyon'Do was a product of his breed. He was from Sa'cre, one of many Tau military centers that produce a very high proportion of exceptionally-disciplined and honorable Fire Warriors, and he acts the way he was taught. Problem is that he has a sense of the dramatics, usually unleashing the full might of his broadsides at the last possible moment. Kain never studied artillery strategies, Tau or other kind, but something in his marrow told him that was something not taught on Sa'cre.
The problem was not Kauyan'Do, it was who was following him; Aun'Saal Ya'ri. A young ethereal who seemed to be of a scholar who would rather be locked up in a study somewhere reading scrolls from the beginning of time rather than one of Farsight's students. He definitely looked the part of an ethereal – the ruling class of Tau – with bright white, red, and gold robes. His staff of office, a delicately ornamented honour blade set upon a tall cane of fio'tak seemed to mimic his emotions. He took small steps as he talked, turning from squad to squad who addressed him, showing as much consideration to the warriors who were defending him.
"Damn Farsight, did you run out of good Ethereals on T'au? Or do you just like screwing with me?"
"Gue'vesa'O Osman," Ya'ri spoke in T'au, but was gracious enough to do the human custom of shaking hands. "You're reputation excels you. From what I hear, you single handily turned the tide on the Eastern Front, now the gue'las are in full retreat out of the sector."
"I just lead support sir," Kain responded in T'au, shaking the ethereal's hand. The you aun'saal had no real grip in his hand, in fact all his strength was being used to keep himself from shaking. "my warriors won the day, and Kauyon'Do here saved my life. Without him, you would be talking to a hollow, more hole ridden corpse."
Ya'ri laughed at his comment. Not a full-hearty laugh, but one that showed he got the joke. "You must tell me about your time on the front lines. What was it like fighting your own kind?"
"As great as the boot in your face if you keep this up!" Kain never liked young ethereals, they were either too scarred or too boastful for his liking. But Farsight would never let him live it down if he struck one, so he came up a lie. "My ajadet AIs will fill you in, and Kauyon'Do certainly has more interesting stories than I do, but the battle has made me tired and uninteresting. Maybe another time."
Later, in his own quarters, Kain activated a small wooden shrine dedicated to the God Emperor. The tiny statue was carved out of dazzling white holy marble, and his armor and throne were made from pure silver. The box itself was no cheap piece of oak, but hand crafted from Cadia redwood. It cost him half a year of officer pay, but it was worth it.
"Dearest God Emperor," he began to pray. "In your name I fought against my enemies and by your will I and most of my warriors are alive. I also seek forgiveness; for though I fight in your name, I must kill others who do the same. All mighty God-Emperor, please, forgive this humble servant, but I believe I am doing the right thing. Please, grant me a sign so I know you also agree."
The door to his quarters opened, and Kain reflexively pulled out his plasma-pistol from its holster, but lowered it when he saw who it was.
"Whoa! That's a little too kinky even for me," The female Tau said, her hands up in surrender as the business end of the pistol pointed straight at her. "Jhi'kaara reporting for duty, Gue'vesa'O,"
She was red-eyed, pale blue-grey skin, and unpretentiously pretty – for a Tau – with glossy jet-black hair that was held up with two golden pins. There was a Railgun slung across one shoulder, two bonding knives in an X of a sheath worked into her tight-fitting stealth-suit, and on each shapely hip was a EMP pistol. Her bare arms were spiraled with tattoos of T'au, and on her face was a long, jagged scar on her upper jaw on the left side and running down her cheek. That was a an accident caused by a chainsword , and how she got her name Jhi'kaara; the Broken Mirror.
"Guess I lost the match," Kain said as he put his pistol back into the holster. "Then again, you're cheating. A bit much on the hardware, don't you think?"
"A Pathfinder team said that an Imperial ko'miz'sar was executing soldiers and civilians who deserted or sought Tau help. So I was ordered to take him out."
More along the lines of she heard that there was a commissar, and decided to hunt him down before the pathfinders could get back to base. No one in the Tau Empire ever liked commissars, but Jhi'kaara had a personal vendetta against them and the scar to prove it.
"So how did your original mission go?" Kain asked, already knowing the answer. He went to his small bar and pulled out some ale from his home world.
"Simple, easy and efficient," she said as she pulled the pins out of her hair, allowing it to fall freely down her back. "With their commanders dead, artillery destroyed, command center on fire, and your proposition, their chain fell. Most turned tail and ran; others decided to get some payback."
"And you didn't stay and help?" he asked as he poured her a glass.
"Not my job." She stripped herself of her equipment, and left them on the floor. She then sprawled out on Kain's bed.
"Fair enough," He handed her the small glass. "Skoal!"
They clanged glasses and drained their glasses. The potency and intoxicating nature of the drink made them both fuzzy by the third drink, and by the time they finish the bottle they could barely see straight. When Kain finally came out of his drunken coma, he found himself in his bed, completely naked with Jhi'kaara curled up next to him equally naked. He held the small alien closure to him, enjoying how soft her body felt against his, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.