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Getting Warhammered - [ 204 ]
🕑 Added 2025-03-29 17:00:08 +0000 UTCAuthor's Note: Repeating the announcement from the previous chapter, I will be taking a break next week to recharge, so I will be skipping posting next Wednesday and Saturday, with hopefully Wednesday after that, April 9th, being the next time I post here.
*****
Aun’Saal paused mid-sentence as a young Air Caste girl stumbled into the room, exertion and near panic written across her flushed features.
“Great Aun, there is an urgent message waiting for you,” she said, then wheezed and gasped, trying to remember how to breathe. “Courier ship … waiting- confidential.”
“Take a moment to breathe, child,” Aun’Saal said calmly, holding up a hand to stop the Captain he had been conversing with or any of the guards from doing something as useless as to reprimand the girl for her lack of decorum. “Whatever it is, it can wait another minute. If it was a military emergency, it would have been addressed to the Captain, and the alarms would be blaring. Yes, just like that, deep breaths. Now, child, tell me what is this about?”
“Sorry,” the girl squeaked, but she complied with the orders and took a few deep breaths. She then straightened, squaring her shoulders and saluted. “An express courier ship just caught up with us, carrying a confidential message addressed to the nearest Aun it could reach. It’s highly confidential, and I’ve been told to make you aware of it at the earliest convenience.”
“My apologies, good Captain,” Aun’Saal nodded towards the captain, who was looking judgementally down at the poor cadet who had been inadvertently made into a runner. “I’m afraid I’ll have to see what this is about.”
Just to be sure, he glanced down at his bracelet, finding it still. With a flick, he activated it, then deactivated it with another. It was working, but it hadn’t alerted him, which lent credence to his earlier belief that while urgent, the message was no emergency. He could have put it aside for later to continue his excruciatingly tedious conversation with the good Captain, but alas, when an opportunity to be done with it presented itself, he was not going to spurn it.
“Cadet, with me,” Aun’Saal said as he turned to leave, gesturing for the girl to follow without looking. She squeaked, then jumped to obey, eager to escape the heavy weight of her Captain’s attention. She deserved that much for helping him escape the man’s tiring presence.
The man was extraordinarily good at his job, he wouldn’t be the Captain of an Ethereal’s flagship if he wasn’t, but he was also a shameless ass-kisser and one who was not satisfied with just that. His talents also failed to transfer over to small talk, which made his attempts at gaining Aun’Saal’s favour … tiring.
“What’s the message carrier?” Aun’Saal asked idly as he walked, halting at an intersection. The left led towards his quarters while the right would lead him towards the docking bay.
“Physical carrier for maximum security,” the Cadet said, sounding ashamed for forgetting that part. “The courier himself should be awaiting your arrival before your personal quarters. I’ve been told he shall depart at once after he hands over the message.”
Physical carriers were only used for the most important messages, outdated and cumbersome as those data storage devices were. Their only use was in that their lack of any connection to other devices made the threat of cyber attacks a non-issue.
The ship’s onboard AI was quite advanced, so it could handle most intrusions, but there was some information that even a nearly negligible risk couldn’t be taken.
Quickening his steps would have been revealing the sudden onset of nervousness he felt at the realisation, so he held himself back. There were few things of that importance that didn’t involve the ship’s immediate well-being, and none of them were good.
Perhaps the humans launched a new crusade in the sector they called the Damocles Gulf on the other end of the Empire. No. There would be no reason to send a message about that to him.
He was an Aun of the Velk’Han Sept, the Sept which was practically a self-sufficient province barely attached to the Empire at large. They were radicals who broke the greater battle doctrine of the Empire and struck out at a weakened foe in the Jericho Sector even though the rest of the Empire was stalling their expansion, being in the transition period between Spheres of Expansion.
No, the Core would not send them a call for aid unless something horrible happened. In addition, if a message came from the Empire’s direction, from the Core, then it would have reached the sept world of Tsula’Malor first, not him, since he was going towards the planet but from the opposite direction.
No. It could have only come from the front.
“Stay outside and let no one in,” Aun’Saal ordered as he reached the gates to his quarters, finding a severe-looking Tau standing before it. The man bowed and held out a diminutive little chip housed in a crystalline box. “Cadet, you will escort the courier to his ship once we are done here.”
Without hesitation, Aun’Saal placed his palm atop the crystalline box, causing it to shine and draw an outline of his palm atop its surface. It took mere seconds for it to confirm his identity, match his biometric data to its parameters before it blinked green and the top of it dissipated into dust.
“Thank you for your service,” Aun’Saal said, nodding at the severe Tau who nodded, then stepped back once the Ethereal held the box firmly in his hands. “You may leave and go on with your duties.”
Bowing, the man glanced at the Cadet who then dutifully led him away.
“I repeat,” Aun’Saal said. “Let no one disturb me.”
“Understood!” His guards said in unison, and with a satisfied nod, Aun’Saal disappeared into his quarters, sliding doors shutting behind him.
He flicked his wrist, then with a mental command to his neural chip, ordered his quarters to separate from the local network and for all surveillance to go offline after a final, thorough check for intruders or bugs.
A disruption field wouldn’t be out of order. He mused, detaching his bracelet then setting it down on his table. It flashed yellow and buzzed, letting him know it was scrambling all known means of communications going in or out of his room. Now, let’s see what new problem I’ll have to fix.
Tapping the small chip inside, a diminutive piece of archaic technology that many would say belonged in museums, Aun’Saal leaned back as the holographic projection came to life.
The report was short and concise, and yet it had repercussions that would send the whole Sept into a spiral of chaos. His fingers unconsciously curled tightly around the armrests of his chair as he stared, wide-eyed, at the report.
‘The First Fleet of the Human Achilus Crusade has been mobilised and is on its way towards the Greyhell Front under the personal command of Lord Militant Solomon Tetrarchus.’
Attached were the estimated details of said fleet. Ships, commanders, weaponry, and most importantly, speed.
Speed. Those blasted Warp-Drives that have been making a mockery of the best Earth Caste scientists and their efforts to reverse engineer them. Those Warp-Drives that made the fastest Tau ships seem like crawling slugs in comparison.
They will reach the Front before me. Aun’Saal realised, and for the first time, cursed the existence of the Black Reef. The gravitational storm stretched far as it curled around the majority of the Tau-controlled worlds in the sector. At its very tip were the handful of systems that made up the Greyhell front where the Humans and the Tau had been warring for the better part of three centuries.
The problem was that the world of Vallia that he had just been visiting lay outside the Black Reef, and the shortest route back to Tusla’Malor was thus going through the Front.
Vallia was, when it came down to just distance, surprisingly close to the Sept world in reality, but the Black Reef stretched between the two, making a direct passage between them impossible. Or rather, the risks of it making it something of an absolute last resort.
Expeditions skirted the edges, delving into floating chunks of ancient worlds to uncover the ruins of bygone civilisations, but the deeper one went, the higher the risk of the Reef never letting them leave. Crossing it entirely never happened before in recorded history.
What could have made that paranoid old Lord Militant act after all this time? Aun’Saal mused to himself, an unnatural calm settling around him as he realised he could no more change the rotation of a star than avoid getting entangled in the mess that was to come.
Solomon Tetrarchus was a known quality; he was the supreme commander of the Achelius Crusade, which was founded to oppose Tau expansion into the Jericho Reach, the very same expansion that was the primary goal of the Velk’Han Sept Aun’Saal was one of the Ethereal leaders of. Knowing their enemies was only prudent. All their simulations and assessments of the man’s personality showed he was terrified of betrayal, too paranoid to even give command to his most competent generals whom he instead kept close to him on his Fortress World.
It was the agreed-upon assumption that Tetrarchus would spend the rest of his life locked up in his fortress, fearing betrayal and being paralysed by paranoia. His incompetence and personality had been one of the primary reasons as for why the Velk’Han sect could contest the entire Crusade just by itself and without support from the Empire at large. Though lately, the Tyranid and other violent alien races of the sector had risen up, contesting the Imperium of Man on many fronts, keeping their attention divided.
Why would he risk leaving his precious Warp-Gate largely undefended? Aun’Saal mused. The First Fleet, along with the second and the third, was responsible for guarding that strange artifact. Did he finally go mad? Did the even more deluded Lord Commander of the Greyhell Front convince him somehow?
Aun’Saal rubbed his chin thoughtfully, wondering just what this would mean for them. Could they hold out? They had stalled the Imperium’s advance at the mouth of the Black Reef for centuries and had been undermining the Lord Commander’s control of the worlds under his command diligently, sparking rebellion after rebellion until the man’s paranoia and hatred for all things Tau eclipsed even the Lord Militant’s already prodigious level of paranoia.
Could we somehow make them fight each other? He mused thoughtfully. Lord Commander Sebasticor Ebongrave and Lord Militant Solomon Tetrarchis were both fearful of betrayal, terrified of spies and ‘xeno’ sympathisers among their general staff. Perhaps it could be done … perhaps … but to do so, many deeply buried assets would have to be activated and spent. Centuries of work might just end up wasted, or perhaps it might just be what saves us all, what finally tips the scales in our favour.
They didn’t have to beat back the Fleets by themselves. Oh no, they only had to survive and keep the Sept standing until the many enemies of the Imperium in the sector pounced. A whole third of the forces defending the single most important resource of the Crusade would be gone. If some alien force managed to besiege the Warp Gate and cut off the Greyhell front’s supply line … yes, that would be a boon indeed.
All worlds in the Canis Salient, the sub-sector under the command of Lord Commander Ebongrave that had any capability for growing crops, had long been sabotaged and made nearly uninhabitable. If the Warp-Gate fell under threat, the humans would starve and would be forced to scurry away to re-establish their supply lines.
We can’t spare any of our resources just sitting around, this isn't the time for caution. Aun’Saal thought, his gaze hardening as he thought about the latest asset he had been working on, a bit of a wild-card that might just tip the scales in their favour. It seems I’m going back to Vallia already. Let’s see just how much use we can get out of this strange human and her pet Orcs.
*****
“So?” I asked idly, gazing at the gathered Orks before me without a single expression on my face, though I did feel some amusement as some of the slower ones attempted to struggle against the tendrils wrapped around their ankles.
“Boss,” Throgg started, his voice strong and defiant. “I zogged it, Boss… messed up da job ya gave me.”
“Why?” I asked, finding my prior annoyance gone at his admission.
“I weren’t strong enough ta keep da Horde togetha… not without a big enough enemy ta point ‘em at an’ shout ‘WAAAGH!’” He said, grimacing. “An’ da new gitz—da ones wot never met ya—dey didn’t wanna follow some’un wot bent da knee ta a runt-sized humie. I bashed a few into line, sure… but dere’s only one o’ me, an’ thousands o’ dem.”
“You have a whole bunch of Orks still following you,” I mused aloud, my gaze spanning around and lingering on each of the other greenskins. Some I knew I’d never met and looked back at me defiantly, measuring and even sent judgemental stares at Throgg’s back. I could hear the thoughts running through their empty skulls clearly enough. They were wondering whether they’d been wrong to think Throgg a strong Boss if he acted so subservient towards a tiny human girly like me. “Don’t have to do all the bashing yourself.”
“Ain’t no respect in ‘avin’ uvvers do da bashin’ fer me. Da new gitz were already iffy ‘bout followin’ me—same as dis lot ‘ere.” He gestured at the few I’d noticed were eying both Throgg and me, measuring, trying to decide whether to try their luck. Without question, Throgg’s ‘clan’ was still by far the largest on the planet, and if they could kill both him and me, it would be theirs. “I can do all da bashin’ I want, but dere ain’t no zoggin’ sense ta bash into their thick skulls!”
“And why, pray tell, did you forget to tell me about these … complications of yours?” I asked the big question, humming menacingly. All the Orks froze stiff, something primal in the backs of their brains telling them to stop moving or they would die. One got angry instead, furious at his instincts telling him to fear me.
Roaring, he tried to pounce on me, his legs tearing their way out of the entangling tendrils around them and he lept at me. His fist cocked back for a titanic punch as he came at me, half a ton of thick muscle converted in ruddy green skin.
I flicked my wrist with a huff, a telekinetic force slamming him to the side and making him crash through the glass windows. His roar of pain and terror mixed with the sound of shattering glass, then faded as he fell, disappearing beneath the roaring winds that ruled the atmosphere this high up. The glass mended itself in a few seconds, cutting off all the noise once again and leaving us in serene silence.
“Didn’t fancy gettin’ meself killed fer muckin’ up da job… not just yet,” Throgg said into the silence that followed, shrugging his massive shoulders nonchalantly as he ignored the staring and surprise of the idiots behind him. “Figured I’d get in a few more scraps before ya smash me skull fer messin’ up—might as well bash in as many o’ dem traitorous gitz as I could before you bash mine. Looks like I just ran outta time, don’t it...”
“Perhaps,” I said idly, squinting at the big, dumb fungus. “I would be less displeased if you bothered to tell me of your failure sooner. I underestimated just how little your kind respect spoken word. Now, I won’t kill you, you are too smart for that, and it would be too much trouble to find a reasonably good replacement for you, but I can’t have you neglect reporting setbacks to me as soon as they happen, so there has to be some punishment in order.”
What punishment, though? I thought, unable to come up with a proper one on the spot. Regular punishments, of course, don’t work on Orks. The only way to truly make them regret something was either through denying them the ability to fight or by humiliating them.
Take away their favourite weapons, paint some demeaning war paint onto their skin, take their loot, and give them a humiliating beatdown. All that could work. Alas, humiliation would make the respect the other Orks had for Throgg sink even deeper, so it was out. If I kept him from fighting, he’d be seen as a weak coward, even more so than he already was.
Tax. I decided, a grin stretching on my lips. I’m gonna tax his green ass so hard he won’t even think about being this dumb again.
“I am taking away all of your loot, leaving only what you need to fight and taking whatever you get your hands on in the next month,” I said, watching his eyes widen in shock. In some ways, that was almost worse than death for Orks. Not to the level where keeping them from fighting was, since that was distinctly worse than the most humiliating death imaginable, but it was close. “Now, I want you to tell me what you think will be needed to get the rest of your unruly kin into line. I can’t have them throwing rockets at my guests, it’s extremely embarrassing.”
“Can’t see no uvver way ‘cept givin’ ‘em a proppa enemy ta scrap wiv—gatherin’ ‘em up fer a big WAAAGH!” Throgg said, sounding disgruntled but nonetheless relieved. Other Orks might have talked back, pushing back against the punishment, but he knew he got off lightly. He could still fight, and he would have his loot-rights back after the month was over. Throgg was smart enough to accept it. “Or maybe if you went ‘round bashin’ sense into all dem tribal boss gitz, one by one yerself.”
“Hmmmm, so an exhausting amount of beatings or a war,” I said, tapping my chin idly, then sighed tiredly. “Well, I can promise you that there will be a good bit of fighting to have in the future. It will be a good while into the future. We could maybe go on a mini crusade, but-”
I froze, feeling something deep and powerful resonate within the Warp beneath me. Even through the Shadow, through the deep darkness of the empyrean, the waters of the Immaterium were stirring.
It was greater than even Kairos, greater than even Ka’Bandha. The two were nothing but ants compared to the primal force of nature I was feeling. It was distant, impossibly distant and yet its power reached me all the same.
My mind buzzed, and it took me a moment to focus on it, so terrified I was from the sheer scale of power I felt. Even my soul, bright and powerful as it was, would have been little more than a snack to this great being.
‘Gravitational anomaly detected two parsecs away from the local stellar body.’
‘Anomaly identified as a clustered Warp-Jump, number of Warp-flares estimated to be around twenty.’
“Oh,” I muttered, my gaze turning to the Orks as the reverberations of the Warp intensified until I could … hear it. It was laughter, two deep, powerful voices laughing.
“If ya don’t bring da boyz into a WAAAGH… we’ll bring da WAAAGH to you!”
I shuddered at the sheer power of those words as they somehow made their way into my skull, echoing inside and leaving behind their bone-shaking laughter. It stayed with me, echoing inside my very mind even as the Warp calmed and their power faded into the deep, dark depths of the Immaterium once more.
The Orks before me seemed to stand straighter, their muscles bulging as their eyes shone with bloodlust and glee, their very beings swelling with power, becoming somehow more as the ephemeral power of the WAAAAGH settled around them, linking them all and making them more than the sum of its parts.
Well. Shit. What the fuck.
Comments
Gabriel Melnik
I think Echidna will have to default into a 4 meter form if she wants to keep the runts from zoggin off
Benedick Avery
I take it back, no breaks 😆
Freddyz02
Well she wanted a way to control them, Mork and Gork just gave her a way. Guess she's getting recognized by dah BOYZ!
