Herald of the Stars - A Warhammer 40k, Rogue Trader Fanfiction

“Are you listening, Aruna?”

Aruna appears on the desk, though only I can see it. The machine-spirit has a simulated ork pinned beneath its paw.

Aileen and Thorfinn follow my gaze, then look back at me, their expressions studiously blank.

“Aruna is ever present, Magos. Do not waste its cycles with inane questions,” Aruna dismantles the ork one digit at a time, faint screams echo behind its next words, “Aruna can strike the orks, but cannot guarantee to hit anything important. Many shots and much maintenance would be required afterwards. Proceed?”

I cross my arms and rest my hand on my chin, “Kinetic strikes wouldn’t be much good then. Lances will be dispersed somewhat and, without proper auspex, the resources expended to hit that chance for critical strike might end up more than mobilising the infantry. It might still be worth it though.

“Our current macro shells are not rated for bombardment through an atmosphere, though we could build enough bombardment shells for one volley in the next forty-eight hours. Melta rounds would be appropriate for such thick armour. It will neutralise spores and not spread them about too much either. Again, this would be a significant expenditure of resources.”

Thorfinn stares at me, “Has the machine-spirit offered its wisdom?”

“Ah, excuse me. Yes, it has. Your idea is viable, Aileen. I was thinking it through out loud.”

Aileen nods and sips from his glass.

“I think that, no matter what, we should deploy,” says Thorfinn. “The reasoning behind your initial outline hasn’t changed just because we can bombard sooner. Additionally, trying to save resources now might bite us later and put us on the hook for more than if we’d spent them up front. You own the planet, effectively, and clearing up after the orks for centuries instead of weeks is a terrible idea.”

“I agree,” I say, “Though no matter what we do, I doubt we’ll get them all.”

“Feral orks will make a good challenge for future psy-errants, once we rebuild the order. I won’t let it die just like this.”

“That’s a remarkable attitude, Aileen.” I say. “I will ensure you get the support you require.”

“Thank you, Aldrich. I admit it is more a necessity than a ‘can do attitude’, psykers are always a constant threat, even one as disciplined as I. So long as necessity gets me through these harrowing days, it will suffice.”

I pat Aileen on the shoulder, then turn to Thorfinn, “I’ll send the orders down to fortress commander Dougal MacCrane. He and his contemporaries can organise our planetside forces and coordinate with the PDF. Commander Maeve Muire will continue to focus on our orbital conflict around the shipyard. Thorfinn, you will ensure the internal security of our void ships and the discipline of the crew.

“Additionally, I will call on our head chaplain, Owen Broin, to monitor morale and shepherd the grief of our personnel. He has dedicated himself to self-improvement since I explained his job requirements and has become as proficient in his field as a tech-adept would. If people start acting out, send them to him first, Thorfinn, rather than dress them down. If it’s too late, one of Owen’s deacons will have to visit them in the brig if they’ve done anything particularly egregious.”

“Are you sure such a soft hand is wise, Aldrich?” says Thorfinn.

I shake my head, “That isn’t what I intend. Fuck ups should be dealt with per usual. I am, however, asking you and the other officers to ensure our personnel get the help and support they need. I know you do this normally, but I want you to make counselling sessions obligatory for anyone who acts out during the next six months, rather than just taking them aside for a chat, or pushing their work mates to invite them out for an evening on the promenade.

“That includes both of you, too. When you find yourself struggling, ask for help. I may be the boss, but for personal matters, you are both my friends and my peers. If you need to contact me at any time, do so. I rarely sleep.

“What I don't want to see is either of you bottling it up, and start making mistakes. The consequences are too great and there is no one to properly replace you. For example, accidentally shouting at an undeserving junior officer, which goads them into foolhardy or bitter actions. In space, that always leads to death. You’ve both been at the top, and working for me, long enough to know that. This is a reminder. Not a criticism. You haven’t let me down before.”

“Alright, Aldrich,” says Thorfinnn. “You’ve made your point.” He leans back and stares at the ceiling, then back at me. “Hearing that annoys me. No one likes to be told how to do their job when they’ve already been doing it for years, especially when everything is going to shit through no fault of their own. However, I may not want to admit it but I probably do need the reminder. It is hard to remember everything when my mind is full of grief. I will have your words spread among the officers.”

“Thank you, Thorfinn. Now, on to the other reason I came here for. I want to know what you found out about those birds that forced this mess upon us.”

Throfinn shrugs, “They’re the same birds we’ve always had on Marwolv. We couldn’t find anything that we didn't already know.”

“Start with that then. An ex-sky captain like yourself must have a key point or two on them.”

“Well, they’re big birds, with a four metre wingspan that always hunt in flocks. A single leader, usually the biggest, always strikes first, which makes it pretty easy to tell when they’re about to strike.

“Watch them long enough and you’ll notice they signal to each other with specific claw and wing motions or certain cries. They are cunning and cautious, preferring to target small groups and can recognise when you point weapons at them.

“They’re incredibly beautiful birds with deep blue feathers and twin red crests along their eyes and neck. Their feathers are sharp and they can lacerate an unarmoured human badly enough that they’ll swiftly bleed to death, just by beating them with their wings. They can even hit an armoured soldier hard enough on a dive to pulp them on impact.”

The more Thorfinn speaks, the greater my frown gets.

“What concerns you, Aldrich?” says Aileen.

“Thorfinn’s description reminds me of a bird favoured by dark eldar beastmasters and common to death worlds across the koronus expanse and calixis sector. Were these birds in Distant Sun’s database when you put them through their tests?

“Let me check.” Thorfinn glances at his cogitator screen and reads through the information.

“Yes, it has them listed as an unknown species of razorwing.”

With a single word, all the pieces of the puzzle click together in my head. I clench my fists and hit them together. A loud bang reverberates around the small room.

“Dammit! I really should have looked into this sooner.”

“I take it they’re not just birds then,” says Thorfinn.

“No, they’re not. Razorwing is a term given to a type of carnivorous bird known for the characteristics and behaviours Thorfin described. The dark eldar, a faction of the aeldari, train them to hunt humans and xenos for fun.

“I am going to speculate on what I think has and is happening.

“The razor wings were originally purchased from the aeldari before their empire collapsed, and split into the eldar and dark eldar, as part of the menagerie of challenging creatures to hunt on Marwolv.

“The eldar strike team assaulted the mechanicus conclave, likely due to some farseer prophecy that implied an avatar of the gods was to be summoned on Marwolv. I suspect they ‘saw’ someone messing with portals and thought, ‘let’s kill them before they summon something by accident,’ not realising that the uncertain nature of prophecy meant that the portals happened because they attacked and had nothing to do with the avatar being summoned, just looked like a probable cause.

“The dark eldar likely followed the eldar to take advantage of whatever mess they knew their cousins would inevitably cause. There, these opportunistic pirates and slavers would have found an untouched and ill defended world. A further investigation would have revealed a gene-modded population of great beauty, uniformity, robustness, and mild temperament. All traits required for the best of slaves.

“They would also have found the high percentage of psykers, the one trade good that is banned from Commorragh, their city in the webway; a city where, allegedly, anything can be bought and sold at. The webway is how the eldar and dark eldar travel between systems and is accessed by physical gates hidden on planets or out in the void.

“These dark eldar slavers would have asked themselves, how can we weed psykers from the population so that raids can be conducted freely?”

Aileen sits up and inhales sharply, “Incite someone to summon something big and trigger a great enough backlash to wipe out all the psykers, then grab everything they can before the world is overrun with demons. Guaranteeing the final sacrifice with trained razor wings would let them interfere with minimal risk to themselves.”

I nod, “Only the biggest bird of them all had its many eyes on the system and, if not for the orks messing everything up on behalf of, I suspect, Bad Penny, who is salty about me destroying a portion of its essence.

“When the avatar turned up, the dark eldar realised they were about to try and raid a planet that was minutes from being dragged into the warp. This would have encouraged a sudden change in plans. I don’t know if this is true, as our only evidence is a group of razor wings acting strangely, behaviour that could also have been triggered by the chaos avatar from within the warp.”

“Your reasoning aside,” says Thorfinn, “you are stating that there is a race of manipulative slavers, fond of striking vulnerable planets and taking advantage of other conflicts, who have access to Marwolv, and we should be on high alert for them, even as we struggle to keep the orks in check.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it. They usually use anti-grav technology like the tau, but they are much better at stealth, so I do not know if our sensors will pick the dark eldar up.”

“Then we need to consolidate our population centres as well,” says Thorfinn. “The global fallout is going to wreck all our crops anyway so there is no need to station people everywhere.”

I sip my amasec, “I would have preferred to evacuate the whole continent then sterilise it with life-eater virus bombs, but I don’t have the STC for them.”

“That sounds horrifying,” says Aileen, “and rather pointless. The orks already spread their spores when they struck at the other two fortresses soon after impact.”

“It’s better than having to use an atmospheric igniter like a cyclonic torpedo, or bombard the planet to ash. It’s not really worth re-terraforming a planet after that.”

“Well, we’ll just have to hope it doesn’t get that out of hand,” says Aileen.

“So long as we keep orbital superiority it should be OK.”

“Another factor to add to the plan,” says Thorfinn. “Let me confirm I understand what you want from me, Aldrich, with a few alterations of my own. Drumbledrone is to immediately send out reconnaissance forces while they muster. Mustered forces are required to depart within twenty-four hours and surround the orks within forty-eight hours and dig in.

“Assuming Distant Sun can finish its current tasks, Distant Sun will bombard the crashed rok in forty-eight hours, using Marwolv’s grav sensor net and whatever targeting we can manage from groundside. This assumes our IFF signals can get through and we won’t hit our own troops.

“Once orbital bombardment is over, we will move in on the ork position, and destroy them. The majority of forces will retreat and the Distant Sun will glass the area to sterilise it as best we can.

“During this operation, the other two fortresses, Dimpsy and Anglewitch will mobilise and forcefully deport all civilians into major cities and fortify against possible dark eldar raiding parties, remnant tau, and ork warbands. After civilians have been secured, patrols will be dispatched to recover resources. However, priority remains on reinforcing Drumbledrone if and when required.

“All groundside industrial capacity will be reconfigured to assemble soylent viridans facilities, additional sensors, wargear, and munitions, with an emphasis on food production.

“Our primary objective is to maintain orbital superiority, no matter what. Our secondary goals are to eliminate the orks, and find the webway gate and destroy it.”

“That’s it Thorfinn.” I stand and place my hands on his desk, “It’s time to roll the dice.”