Editing The Tales of the Emperasque: Part Twelve (section)

==9-088-001-M42==
Shas’O Fap paced the control deck of the surface-to-space rail cannon angrily. The Imperial ship would be entering their orbit in under ten minutes, and the Earth Caste repair team had only just finished the weapon’s upgrade. The Imperials would be short for the world if the cannon managed a shot at their reactor or bridge, but a ship that size was never easy to hit with an unguided projectile.<br>
The pacing wasn’t helping Fire Warrior crews manning the weapon, several of whom had cast disapproving glances back at their commander when his head was turned, or when he disappeared on one of his frequent ‘bathroom’ breaks. The moon’s population was small enough that it did not warrant an Ethereal’s presence, but a Shas’O was, theoretically, ranked high enough to open fire on an Imperial vessel in their absence. If, indeed, it merited such an attack.<br>
“Shas’O, the Imperial ship is now close enough to hail. Shall we attempt to do so?” one of the Fire Warriors asked. The lopsided veteran shrugged distractedly.<br>
“Go ahead, Shas’Vre, but you’ll get nothing from them but vitriol and rhetoric,” he said, “followed by orbital lasers. They’ll give us a reason to slaughter them, you just watch. These Imperials aren’t interested in the Greater Good.”

“Aye.” The Fire Warrior turned to the comm board on his console and activated it. “Attention, Imperial Destroyer. You are approaching Sen’Trek, a world of the Tau Septs. Identify yourself and power down your weapons at once, or be fired upon.”<br>
After a few tense seconds, the comm board crackled to life. “Se’Trek, this is the Imperial Navy Destroyer Swift. We have no hostile intent towards you. We have been deposited in the system by a Warp Stream.”<br>
The comm officer jerked around in surprise and stared at the Shas’O. Fap stared at the sensor readout of the ship as it slid ever-closer to orbit. “The Stream is completely unnavigable,” the comms officer said suspiciously.<br>
“Yes it is. We rode it blind after we collided with something,” the human’s voice came back, resonant and guarded. The ship was indeed powering down the targeting computers for its torpedo weapons, though it was leaving the energy weapons hot and ready. The tiny number of Tau ships in orbit were closing into a loose sphere around the ship, ready to act in case they did something stupid.

Vulkan stood behind Wilcox, projected what he hoped to be an aura of stability and not just intimidation. Wilcox was trying to get the Tau to listen to their plight while Ir’Shal carefully probed the surrounding ships with the Swift’s sensors. The object trailing them had resolved into a small drone vessel, bristling with sensors and shields, but no guns or Warp drive. The other ships ranged from light freighters to a smattering of void platforms, and most worryingly, a heavy frigate. The surface was sparsely populated, by the look of it, with tiny glacial caps and a wide, equatorial ocean. The continents were focused near the poles, and connected by a wide landbridge near the largest city.
The comm signal was coming from a small collection of buildings outside the city, presumably a military base. Vulkan was staring at the city, trying to figure out where the vault of the Unbound Flame was from his vantage.<br>
“Your ship is in violation of Tau space. What is your purpose here?” the harsh, oddly accented voice asked. Wilcox looked to Vulkan. The enormous, onyx-skinned man closed his eyes for a moment and sighed faintly.<br>
“Tell the truth. We were going home,” Vulkan said. “Dishonesty gains us nothing here.”<br>
Wilcox nodded solemnly. “We were returning to our home system when the vessel collided with something in the Warp,” Wilcox said honestly. “We lost control and entered the Stream.”<br>
“Then you should not be alive,” the voice on the other side started to say. Suddenly, the voice was cut off with a faint scuffling sound. Wilcox glanced up at Vulkan, whose eyes narrowed.<br>
A new voice picked up where the other left off. “Imperials, this is Shas’O Kes’Y Fap’Tau,” a new, deeper voice put in, “commander of the garrison here. Your vessel, regardless of its origin, is in violation of our space. Withdraw at once.”

“We can not do that,” Wilcox said carefully. “The ship’s engines are damaged. We can’t enter the Warp at the moment.”<br>
“Then fix your ship and get out,” the new alien voice growled. “Imperial warmongers are not welcome here.”<br>
“We’re not here to pick a fight,” Wilcox pressed as Vulkan’s shoulders tightened. The last thing they needed was a space battle when they were already damaged. “We would not be here if we had a choice. If the engines can be repaired, we’ll be on our way.”<br>
“And if they can’t?” The alien left the question hanging in the air.<br>
Wilcox looked at Vulkan again, nervous as hell. “Then we will signal for help, and a ship will come with the parts we need,” the officer said.
“And bring more Imperial ships to my system? I think not,” the alien said, clearly done debating the subject. “If your ship is not gone within four days, local time, I will destroy it.”<br>
“Unacceptable. I will not allow the crew and passengers of my ship to be held hostage against non-functioning engines,” Wilcox said angrily, then paled when he realized his mistake.<br>
“ ‘Passengers?’ “ the alien asked, his voice deepening. “What passengers might these be?”<br>
“The people I’m ferrying home,” Wilcox said, trying not to wither under Vulkan’s suddenly terrifying gaze.

“Right,” the alien said, completely unconvinced. “I’ll determine your purpose here, Imperial. By force or not.” The channel went dead.
Vulkan closed his eyes and let out a strained breath. “Wilcox…”<br>
“I apologize, my Lord Vulkan,” the Naval officer said morosely. He sank to one knee before the looming Terminator armor Vulkan wore, head hung low. “I overstepped my bounds.”<br>
“They would have found out eventually,” Vulkan rumbled, staring at the holomap in concentration. He’Stan opened a channel directly to Vulkan’s helmet.<br>
“Any idea where the crypt is, brother?”<br>
“Yes,” Vulkan said slowly. “It’s on the outskirts of a city on the river that bisects that landbridge. Getting to it will be a bastard.”<br>
“We have a few Guard shuttles aboard,” He’Stan pointed out. “We could drop down to the crypt, enter it, remove the Flame, and be gone before the xenos know what’s going on.”<br>
“Gone? As in returned? To our ship with no Warp drive?” Vulkan asked drily. “No, brother He’Stan. We must fix the ship’s engines before we go anywhere.”<br>

“They want to LAND?” Fap said in bewilderment, running his hands under the faucet.<br>
“Aye, sir, their shuttle is requesting permission to land on the moon,” the Fire Warrior at his side said. “They want to show us something.”
“Show us what?” Fap demanded.<br>
“A tomb. They claim that they can show us a tomb here on the moon where an ancient alien race interred something. They want our assurance that they can leave once they have opened it.”<br>
“Hah! Their strident opposition to the Greater Good has never been louder, and they expect us to simply negotiate with them over some grave site?” Fap laughed, toweling off.<br>
“Apparently. They say their ship is damaged but reparable,” the Warrior said.<br>
“I was there for that, thanks,” Fap growled. “These Imperials are clearly lying about something. Whether it’s the Stream or their purpose here, I can’t tell.”<br>
“Sir?” the Warrior asked.<br>
“Why would they know of a tomb on the moon if they came here randomly?” Fap asked, rolling his eyes. “They’re deceiving us, or trying. If their shuttle undocks from the destroyer, vaporize it.”

“Tell me you can fix it,” Vulkan said, staring at the tangled mess of wires emanating from the damaged engine access panel.<br>
“I can fix it,” Ir’Shal said confidently. “Three days tops. Two if the machine spirits are willing.”<br>
“Then the alien’s threat will be a hollow one,” Wilcox said with relief. He had been near to tears with shame over his failure to conceal the Salamanders’ presence on his ship, but Vulkan had pointed out that their priorities had changed to the point that he would have had to have spoken out in person anyway: they needed to reach the vault below.<br>
“He’Stan, my Brother, can you help me with this?” Ir’Shal asked, placing both hands and his mechadendrite below the panel he was fussing with. He’Stan walked over and the two of them heaved the panel back into place. Vulkan caught Wilcox’s eye and gestured to the door.<br>
“Acting-Captain, may I speak with you for a moment?”<br>
“Of course, my Lord,” the shorter man said, following Vulkan out of the engine room. When the two were alone, Vulkan rounded on him.
“Captain, have the Tau yielded to our request?” Vulkan asked. Wilcox was still technically a Lieutenant Commander, but as the highest ranking non-Astartes on board, he would no doubt be promoted to fill his predecessor’s rank if he survived.<br>
“No, my Lord, but their vessels are not attempting to board or destroy us, so I have to assume they’re at least considering it,” Wilcox replied nervously.<br>
“Let me know if they come to a conclusion,” Vulkan said, the germ of a plan taking root in his head. “These Tau are pseudoegalitarian. They won’t be able to resist a healthy donation.”