Editing Spared (section)

==Original story (Writedude)==

Dreadnought Cassius stared around the battlefield in dismay.

The gallant crusade of the Black Templars had failed miserably. They had decided to unleash their holy wrath upon the heathen Tau, who had dared to infringe upon their worlds in the name of their godless religion, but they had underestimated the technosorcery of the xenos. Cassius had seen old friends and new recruits alike cut down by unerring plasma fire at the same rate that the Marines had sent the blue-skinned aliens to hell with pure bolter and flame. Now, it seemed, only Cassius was left, his left leg servo damaged by a lucky shot from a Tau scout's heavy weapon and leaving him limping, his blessed armor scarred in dozens of places.

His corpse eyes peered from the viewing slit at the battlefield. The ground had been churned by tank track and gunfire, leaving slippery mud in place of the green fields the Tau had dared desecrate. Bodies of both gallant Templar and filthy xenos carpeted the ground in grotesque attitudes of death, and vehicles of both kinds lay sad and crumpled, dotting the battlefield with columns of smoke and fire. Cassius limped by a Rhino, pierced by a foul railgun, and he averted his eyes from the mess of gore that was rotting in a streak from the exit hole of the projectile.

He was proud, though. Despite the loss of so many of his brethren (which would be avenged in time), the Tau had been driven back to crawl for forgiveness at their master’s feet.  They had accomplished that much – this world would never be theirs. And as long as Cassius lived – 

A noise made him turn.

A foe! A foe stilled lived, here on this sacred ground of the Templars! It was one of their dreadnoughts, its lithe limbs broken and crippled as he was, pulling its foul form across the field. Its weapons were broken and useless, and Cassius felt some satisfaction at recognizing some of the scorch marks that adorned the shell. The head was gone, revealing its mechanical nature in a fray of broken wires. Perhaps the xenos inside saw another way, through cameras or other technoheresy. Cassius approached the prey, confident of his success.

In truth, though, he was fearful. Never in his long life, incarcerated in the blessed, cold shell that kept him alive, had he fought such an opponent such as this. Their soldiers were weak, true, but their heavier weapons reminded Cassius of the Eldar and their cursed weapons in power. The xenos had even gone so far as to ally with other, filthier aliens, bird-like beasts with primitive weaponry. Meat shields. There had been insects as well, threatening to tear Cassius open until he doused them with blessed promethium. Truly, the Tau were formidable, but not strong enough to defeat the guardians of man.

He was standing over the battlesuit now. It had stopped, lying on its back in a parody of death. Cassius wondered if the alien inside could see him. Curiosity unbecoming of a Marine gripped him – he had to know what was inside. Perhaps there was an alien half-dead and being kept alive in there, like he was. Maybe it was just technosorcery and heretical workings inside. Whatever it was, he had to know. He felt like a techpriest, plunging into bizarre secrets of machines. He clamped an arm around the protruding front of the suit, and with his strength, pulled the armor way in a shriek of metal.

There was an alien inside! Cassius discarded the shorn part of armor and inspected. The alien inside was a typical, foul specimen of their race, a female (Cassius gawped at this foul practice), screaming a protest, an oath, perhaps, in their alien language. She had wounds – blue blood stained her flimsy cloth clothing and the inside of the suit in equal measure. Red hair, he noticed, pulled in their distinctive braid. The suit was nothing special – not like how he worked at all. There appeared to be no controls, then the Dreadnought realized, with a lurch of horror, that there appeared to be a plug of some kind on the back of her neck. Neural plugs were the practice of the Adeptus Mechanicus! This foul race parodied humanity in every way! Cassius raised his huge arm to crush the shrieking worm to paste.

And could not.

He had killed hundreds in his lifetime. He had broken foul Orks into pieces, burned Chaos worshippers with cleansing flame, gunned down foul Eldar witches. In death, he had smashed a Wraithlord into shivers, feeling the scream of the soul-being’s death in his head. He had single-handedly saved a whole village from no less than three Lictors during a Tyranid incursion, forever winning the respect of the people. He had killed hundreds of this xeno whore's comrades not so long ago, without hesitation and remorse.

And yet he could not kill this one.

He lowered his arm. The Tau’s face was streaked with tears, and she muttered some prayer to... Who did she pray to? The Tau had no gods! Did she pray to her masters, who sat in comfort behind the lines and ordered devotion and death in equal measure? Cassius, ignoring a rude comparison to the brave forces of the Imperial Guard, stared at the slender, oh-so-fragile form of the alien, the form he had been told to hate and fear. He tried to bring up an old reserve of hatred for everything that bit at the heels of the Imperium. He wanted to kill the wretched xenos. He did.

Didn’t he?

A change of tactics was needed. Yes. He would pretend to walk away, let the alien think she was spared, and when she was escaping, turn and fry her with cleansing Promethieum. Yes, that was what he would do. A sound plan that would bring a sacrifice for the Emperor, a burning corpse to commemorate his glory.

Cassius abruptly turned and limped away from the fallen suit. His ears listened for her scrabble of retreat as he stopped some distance away, the prefect range to bathe her in fire and glorious heat. He waited. His patience was rewarded as the sound of hooves on metal reached him. The pilot was pulling herself out. Quick, turn and burn her for the Emperor and for vengeance for your fallen brothers!
He whipped around on his torso servo, bringing his arms to bear.

The Tau woman flinched. She had moved towards him, not away! Did she intend to fight somehow? She had no weapons on her person. She was leaning over, clutching her side in pain as she walked towards him. This was the most foolhardy charge – nay, limp – Cassius had ever seen! He stared as she came closer. 15 feet. 10. 5. His training screamed to kill, to crush the foul alien underneath the boot of the Emperor! Kill the foul xenos, it hollered! Do what is right. She was close enough to touch him now! Quick, do so-

The Tau female hugged him, wrapping her arms around the coffin that was set in the armor. Cassius’s real body, under the armor, flinched as she pressed herself to his shell. She desecrated his form, the sacred coffin of Cassius, who was the Black Knight of Lypmhos V, the Slayer of Many! How dare she?! HOW DARE SHE?! KILL HER!! NOW!!

He did not.

Her eyes sought his. They met, her startling blues and his cold, fading brown ones through the viewing slit. She whispered something, a thanks perhaps. The warm whisper of her breath passed through the slit, giving his brow a warm tickle. It was the first warmth he had felt since he had been in the coffin, one that was not from fire or techpriest instrument. Then she slipped away, turning and limping away from him, towards some unknown horizon, back to her camp, maybe. The hulk of Cassius remained still as she left.

Part of the Dreadnought felt shock, horror. He had committed some sort of heresy, he was sure. He would need to atone somehow. His mind cast for ways in which to redeem himself. He would have to shut himself off in a hundred year slumber, perhaps, never awakening unless the situation was truly dire, or until the foul taint of xenos had decayed from his body. Yes, that was it. He would sleep, until he was fit to walk in the light of the stars again and work for the great God Emperor on his throne.

And yet, as he settled down to his self-inflicted punishment right where he stood, his form crouching and becoming still, his last thought was of the Tau girl he has spared. Her eyes, her hair, her wounds, the thank you, the warmth of her breath.

And the thought, that someday, he may be repaid for his act of kindness.

'''++Hydnos Crusade++12 years later++'''

As the temporary coalition of the Black Templar Hydnos Crusade and the Tau 245th Expeditionary force converged on the Tyranid Hive, Dreadnought Cassius was startled in his advance through the jungle by a Ravener. The chittering, snake-like thing closed on him, promising death with each spastic flick of its claws, and then shrieked as sudden gouts of flame bathed it in light, cooking the animal and shrivelling its flesh.

Cassius turned, and saw a battlesuit, standing tall, a mark of a Shas’vre on its armor, its comrades crouched and watching him carefully.
The leader approached, slowly, and hugged the dreadnought with its mechanical arms. A familiar phrase floated from speakers on the suit, a phrase he had heard ten years ago.

Cassius smiled.

He had been repaid.