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Chapter 4

  Shas’kor awoke from his slumber and got up from his seat with a headache to find that they had entered realspace again. He took a glance at the command panel, just as the ship’s computer had said when it all started, today they would have to refuel.

  The holographic map indicated that the voidstation was just a few hours from here, Shas’kor hoped it would all go smoothly.

  He hoped especially that it would be empty, he knew that the Bentu’sin would ask many questions at his sight, a T’au fire caste operating one of their vessels, going to who knows where, a strange sight indeed in the endless void.

  Shas’kor felt the need of moving, he was after all, a fire warrior, the movements of a hunter were in his blood. But as of now, he was stuck in this enclosed space for another eleven days still, so he had to improvise.

  He started by warming up a bit, his shoulder joints cracking after hours of inertia. Shas’kor and Ma’eth were asleep during their short stays in the warp, it was an unhealthy amount of sleep for his species, but Shas’kor found it better than staring at the maddening energies outside with only his thoughts as companions.

  In the meanwhile, Ma’eth got up from the couch and on his hooves, he ran towards Shas’kor and stood to his right.

  The renegade stared at the kid with a neutral look on his face, his little face looked full of energy and ready to start another day of… being stuck in a metal coffin in the black void of space.

  To keep sane they used what little they brought with them, Ma’eth had two game consoles and some games, one was a small dual screen console with its controls on the bottom screen, the other was a weird model where the two sides could be detached and act as controllers. Both were very old models, which made Shas’kor wonder initially why a child wanted to play with such old relics, but then the realization hit him.

  These consoles were Vra’elo’s once, he remembers them from their time as cadets, both had spent quite an amount of time playing with the second one actually, having two controllers was useful after all.

  His friend had always been more caring for his personal effects, Shas’kor regretted not having done the same now.

  Compared to the young lad Shas’kor had only brought with him some books that would take some time to read.

  The first one he had brought was “Coal Team”, a book about the wild antics of a small squad of three pathfinders (a young Shas’la, a fourth generation Gue’vesa with a kleptomaniac problem, and a Shas’ui who definitely does not get paid enough) and their non combatant retinue (a Fio’la combat engineer with a joke always ready, a crass Fio’vre tech savant that spends half the book berating primitive Gue’la tech and lastly a water caste liaison whose name; Ny’moa, or ‘Silktoucher’ in the Gue’la tongue, should tell all there is to know about the quality of his character) while in a primitive planet of The Imperium, trying to sabotage enemy operations in the most hilarious ways possible.

  The second one he had brought with him was a much heavier read, “Testimony” it was called, well writ and bound in rough crimson thread, the firsthand testimony of some Shas’la (who is a Shas’ui by the end of the book), stationed on some backwater hive city.

  The book deals a lot with how the inhabitants of the gue’la empire live and the horrors associated with them, it has been criticized in the past for its crudeness in dealing with such themes and for how it depicts The Imperium as a monster that cannot be reasoned with. Many have also complained about the work’s bleak cynicism, in complete opposition to the typical T’au mindset.

  Despite this, it is also widely considered a classic of modern t’au literature and is well liked by the Gue’vesa minority for “showing the truth”.

  Shas’kor shook his head for a moment, then he spoke, his voice calm.

  “Do you remember what I taught you yesterday?”

  Ma’eth nodded, the two had started doing a bit of exercise to remain healthy, as healthy you can be in a small spaceship anyway, the renegade would not be sure about time anymore if it weren’t for the ship’s computer keeping the time.

  In front of them, Ro-nni, the drone, was holographically showing a diagram of the exercise they were going to do, mostly stretching really, but better than nothing.

  They began with neck exercises, to slowly get on the shoulder ones, the chest ones, torso, abs, hamstrings and so on.

  Shas’kor was fluid in his movements, these were things that he knew since he barely walked, in his life he had done these same exercises so many times that it would be impossible to recount.

  Ma’eth struggled instead, his body proportions were those of a child after all, his build particular too out of his hybrid nature, not quite as strong as that of his peers of fire, not quite soft as his peers of water.

  The boy’s movements were a bit clumsy, his little arms not nearly extending and allowing the movements to the extent that those exercises required, but as the child was starting now, that was to be expected.

  Seeing him struggle on some exercises made Shas’kor chuckle a bit, the kid shot him a glare that made him stop, but he still laughed inside. He helped him on some, but the abilities and skills must be acquired with time, and the kid had started just yesterday.

  After the matutine workout, they had breakfast, the usual since they had started their journey.

  A can of starfruit juice and some dry biscuits, Shas’kor did not enjoy the texture of the biscuits, they felt like eating sand to him but Ma’eth seemed to love them for some reason that the renegade fire warrior failed to see. He was certainly not going to judge, when he was the only one of his La’rua that actively ate Gue’la food.

  From the cockpit one could see the orbital station, it was a small platform in the void, black metal and red neon accents upon its materials, the colours of the Bentu’sin.

  Shas’kor felt a tinge of worry, there it was, their first stop in the journey, in all its utilitarian glory, sticking out of the void like a Gue’vesa in a Tarellian commemorative event.

  “Mom told me once that the Bentu’sin built stations all over our void as an agreement for them to join us.”

  Ma’eth had spoken without thinking, his dark eyes looked distant, but Shas’kor would have described them as sad. He may not be able to scent his pheromones, but he did not need to.

  They remained quiet as the ship slowly drifted towards the platform, a slow movement that made every single moment weigh like eons.

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  The ship’s low rumbling and the drone’s hovering were the only sound as the renegade fire warrior and the hybrid boy calmly sipped from their cans of starfruit juice.

  Shas’kor was mentally preparing himself for all outcomes, his pulse pistol was holstered at his right hip, he truly hoped not to have to use it.

  The kid seemed to have understood his worry as he patted Shas’kor’s back with his small hand, his face was unreadable as his little voice spoke.

  “Do you worry that they will tell the Aun if they see us?”

  Shas’kor nodded, he found himself quite amazed by Ma’eth’s understanding, but again, this boy was half water caste, nothing too weird for their kin of water.

  The Bentu’sin joined The Commonwealth long ago, not out of any ideological closeness, but for the resources.

  In T’au space are found many asteroid belts, profitable and easy business, and most importantly safeguarded by the professional armies and fleets of the T’au. They had been granted the right to mine if they joined them, and the honor of supplying the resources to the T’au worlds, to contribute beyond their regular capacity to The Greater Good.

  Shas’kor always wondered who the real benefactor in that deal was, but again, he cannot judge the actions of the water caste just as much as they cannot complain how he shoots a pulse rifle.

  It was still a great victory to get the ancient wise folk of the void to call you a friend after all, especially in this galaxy forsaken by whatever created it.

  The ship rumbled suddenly, indicating they were entering the station’s artificial atmosphere and gravitational field. The renegade fire warrior exhaled through his nasal slit, here they were, their first stop.

  He got up from the couch and walked towards the ship’s entrance, trembling inside as he opened the hatch. The renegade got down from the ship, his hooves clanking on the black metal floor, a heavy silence following every step.

  The station was a sphere made in two sections, the fuel tanks were held below the surface he was walking on, the distributors sprung up from the platform like columns, just over them was the second half of the sphere, a roof.

  Shas’kor walked towards the distributors, a holographic interface sprouted towards him, its glyphs unreadable to him, but it was on a language menu. One of them was T’au noh por as it held a Commonwealth flag icon, he clicked it, or at least hovered his finger towards it.

  The interface closed itself for a moment to reopen in perfectly readable language, or at least the capital dialect, every sept held its own after all.

  Sai’ran’s was known for being extremely simple for Gue’la to learn, as it did not even require a vocal cord restructuring, but it also made great use of body gestures and facial expressions in a way that has often been stereotyped as dancing or “theatrics” by outsiders.

  Seriously none can state the annoyance he feels when some humorless comedian from Au'taal or T'olku starts dancing on stage to “Speak to his buddies from Sai’ran”, how is that supposed to be funny?

  But when someone from his home calls the people from Au'taal perverts or tells the ones from T'olku that they got a stick up their ass they get offended, go figure.

  Still, the language on screen was understandable, if not for a few weird word choices.

  Shas’kor read through the various options of fuel, most of their names rang no bells to him, though he was certain they might have to an Earth caste engineer. To a Fio’la this place would be like a candy shop for a child, the technological advancement of the Bentu’sin renders them wise mentors to the scientists of his people.

  He scrolled down the holographic screen, finding at the end what he was just looking for; chaì’Yu, also called diesel.

  As the renegade hovered his left hand on the holographic screen, a red neon light lit up in one of the pumps, pointing on what he was searching.

  He reached for the dispenser, a tube of some metallic alloy, dark as the rest of the station. His grip on the thing was not quite comfortable, it was clearly not made for four-fingered hands.

  Shas’kor reached the ship, then, before he could even try to find where he was supposed to put the distributor the thing sprung up to life on its own.

  Like the robotic arm of an electronics factory, it moved directly and alone to the fuel port and attached itself there.

  Shas’kor had flinched when it happened, he had not expected some fuel pump distributor to act this way, but it made quite some sense that like the ship this station also had some sort of supercomputer running the thing.

  Ma'eth was looking at him from the cockpit, holding the Drone in his hands and petting its metallic top. The renegade exhaled while staring at the robotic distributor work, quietly filling the ship’s fuel tank.

  This was going perfectly, no one was here other than himself, the kid, and their ship. None of all the scenarios he was preparing for were going to happen.

  He stared at his pulse pistol, thankful that it would remain in its place, nothing would happen today, just another day of travel.

  Then Shas’kor heard a rumbling noise, he turned himself around, and cursed himself for thinking that anything could be fine for once.

  Another vessel had just appeared and docked, a freighter by its look. It was modular, being clearly divided in a ‘cabin’ section, the actual ship, and a cargo hold, Shas’kor thought it looked like a land truck.

  It likely was transporting harvested material from the asteroid mines to the great void Citadels of the Bentu’sin, where they would be smelted, refined and lastly, if in excess, sold to some water caste corporate sucker of some Metallurgic company for a hefty price. Or perhaps it was carrying some other hidden thing, he himself did not have ordinary “Cargo”, thus he had become more open to the idea of others not being who they appeared on the surface.

  Obviously this had to happen when his thoughts turned away from worry, he mused, it's as if the universe read the renegade's thoughts and decided it would be fun to do this.

  If there are gods like the auxiliaries claim, they must find him especially amusing.

  The Freighter vessel’s hatch opened and a squat figure exited from it, a Hernkyn.

  The figure was not wearing their typical Void-suites but still wore a uniform with the symbols and colors of the Demiurg. The man had pale skin, he held a brown “mutton chops” beard, as the Gue’la would have called it, though Shas’kor had no idea what mutton chops even were.

  The Hernkyn's eyes were of a weird color, they were of a pink-reddish hue, not too dissimilar to Sai’ran’s pink sept markings.

  The renegade's thoughts wandered for a moment, for the Bentu’sin's facial structure was not too different from those of the Gue’la. He absently wondered if they were somewhat related. The squat looked at Shas’kor for a moment, then at the renegade's ship and at Shas’kor again. His expression looked awkward.

  He spoke with a deep voice that felt as if it was coming out of a black hole in that moment.

  “ Forst?r Du meg? ”

  Immediately another voice boomed up his hearing link, it was Ma'eth; he was using the drone as a communication device. The how of it was unknown to Shas’kor, little son of a ui't.

  “ He's asking if you understand him, tell him you don't, repeat this after me: nei, jeg snakker ikke spr?ket ditt."

  Shas'kor did as asked, stuttering and butchering the pronunciation of all of those words.

  His interlocutor sighed for a moment, he muttered something that Shas’kor did not catch in his ancient tongue and spoke in T'au noh por with an accent that was not too strong but still felt.

  “Y'arr far from home, T'au, travelling?”

  Shas’kor nodded silently, his gaze turned on his ship for a moment, another wonder of their technology.

  “A good choice, they are made to last.” The Hernkyn said, gazing at Shas’kor's vessel, the renegade felt dying inside at that moment.

  Tau'va preserve him, he was truly hoping that his interlocutor did not see the cockpit and Ma’eth, in that moment. He would have been praying to some god if he were he not a Godless T'au.

  The Bentu’sin stared back at Shas’kor, the renegade felt his magenta eyes piercing his soul, he had an unreadable expression. Shas’kor’s sweat felt cold upon his skin, as the kin spoke again, he was feeling his knees trembling, dread was eating away at his insides with every moment that passed.

  Were this man to reveal him to the authorities… No! all will be fine, all will be fine, he repeated this sentence to himself like one of those sutras old T’au would repeat from time to time.

  “Not a pilot are ye? Nah, y’arr one of the fighters, varied lot ye T’au.”

  Shas’kor stared for a moment at his pulse pistol, should he pull it out? Threaten the Bentu’sin? Kill him?

  No, Ma’eth was watching from the cockpit, he must think his next actions carefully, for right now he was in the middle of a Kroot hunter’s trap, a wrong move and everything blows up right in his face.

  “Listen, I know what y’arr thinking n? , but I reassure ye, there’s no need to take that bloody gun out. I know a novice smuggler when I see one. I don’t wanna meet yer pulse fire and as ye should know , my folk’s known for holdin’ grudges ”

  Shas’kor did not know what a novice was, but it hit him now that the Bentu’sin was likely just as scared if not more, or perhaps The Kin was confident of his own safety. He chose to go with the former line of thought.

  The Kin muttered something in his ancient tongue, pondering on how to continue, in that moment Ma’eth chimed up through the earlink, his little voice felt trembling too.

  “Shas’kor? h-he’s not going to t-tell anyone, right?”

  The renegade would have wanted to reassure him, but he truly could not, for he could not even reassure himself of it and then out of nowhere, he heard a hiss coming from his vessel. The kid had just opened the hatch.

  Ma’eth ran towards them, putting himself between the Hernkyn and The Renegade, holding his arms out as if to protect Shas’kor. The Bentu’sin raised one bushy eyebrow at this scene, he clearly did not expect any of this to happen.

  The kid was staring right into the Hernkyn’s magenta eyes with his own pitch black ones, making a sign of reverence with his hands, then spoke with all the grace of his peers of water.

  “Honoured one of the wise and gifted folk.” His voice was calm, confident even, the steel of determination just under it. “Your kin are known for much, you state your piece both with fire-laden grudges and in flowing words.” He looked back at the renegade before continuing, his face was unreadable, Shas’kor figured the kid was feeling nine things at once.

  “Compassion is not one of your qualities, but I must plead you, tell no one of this, no harm we have done to you nor anything would be gained by telling the Aun, let us go, I beg you.” The words nearly became a jumbled mess by the end, as the kid lost whatever courage had compelled him to do this.

  Hernkyn was staring at them with those pinky eyes, his expression was deep and thoughtful. Then, from nowhere, he started laughing, a deep laugh that felt coming from the man’s soul, Ma’eth and Shas’kor stared in awe.

  “Bwahahaha! Aye lad, ye can go.” A deep grin was in his face as he continued, that Ma’eth had replicated perfectly.

  “This void is miserable already, ya seem fine and I hav’ no intention of adding my shite onto it.” Shas’kor’s face now too replicated the smile of the Hernkyn.

  “Ye hav’ got my ord , I swear on the ancestors that my folk revere, I wont tell no one of what I have seen, or Im not called Einar the Silent.”

  The Bentu’sin backed away from them with a big smile as he got to the distributors. In the meanwhile, Shas’kor noticed that their dispenser had finished, so he closed the tank and was adjusting itself back to its place. Truly it was a marvel of technology.

  As the two T’au made to depart back on their vessel, the Hernkyn opened his mouth one last time in his tongue.

  “ gode reiser og lykke til, t’au! dere to kommer til ? trenge det!”

  Before entering and closing the hatch, Shas’kor asked what did the kin say, Ma’eth only smiled, waved back and said; “Good travels and good luck to you as well!”

  The renegade pondered on those words, “good luck”, Tau’va knows how much they all needed it…

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