//------------------------------// // Chapter Three // Story: Compliance // by Mal Masque //------------------------------// Chapter Three “We’ll be arriving in Celestia City in just a few minutes!” Amber said, poking her head out from the cockpit. “We just need to navigate through the debris of the Martian atmosphere. There is,” She glanced back into the cockpit and the window. “whew, a LOT of space garbage here. Sit tight and we’ll be back on the ground soon!” She ducked back into the cockpit, leaving the room filled with dignitaries and Merodi guards to their prior silence. There had been little conversation between anyone since they made landfall at the Tau Embassy and retrieved Windmind. The tension had made the atmosphere barely breathable as everyone sat in awkward silence. While Windmind herself had been kind, cordial, and overall relaxed company, every time she made some movement, gesture, or so much as said a word, Yamira and Devon both appeared to restrain themselves from doing something so brazenly rash. It had even reached a point where Devon requested he change seats to the other side of the transport, so he didn’t have to be in the immediate proximity of the female Xenos diplomat, all because she simply smiled at him. With the news of arrival, the tension eased a bit, but Yamira still refused to take her eyes off the Tau woman. “About time,” Cage said, dusting off a layer of ash that had accumulated on his clothing onto the floor, joining a mess of cigarette butts that Yamira had lost count of after thirty. “If I sat here any longer, my legs would go stiff from rigor mortis.” “I am most excited to see this City of Celestia myself,” Windmind said. “Aun’va have spoken such wondrous things about it, the integration of such technological wonderments, and the blending of many cultures and peoples.” She let off a breathy sigh and clasped her hands together. “It is such an honor amongst my caste to represent our Empire in such a way.” Though Yamira’s experiences with the Tau were few (much of her service spent facing against Tyranids, heretics, the occasional Ork Warband, and those of the Aeldari here and there), she knew enough to familiarize herself with the loathsome race. The diamond-shaped symbol on her chest denoted her to be of the Water Caste, the diplomats and ambassadors of their race. Yamira had heard stories of human planets visited by these silver-tongued Xenos, beguiling them into joining their budding empire with promises of unison and equality for all. She even heard of fellow Guardsmen falling for propaganda and abandoning their oaths to the God-Emperor to serve the Tau as a slave would serve a planetary governor. And now one was in her presence, freely speaking like it had the right to. “What are you most excited for, gue’la of the Imperium?” Yamira blinked back to reality, she hadn’t even realized her focus was lost until the Xenos spoke. She narrowed her gaze and adjusted her hat. “A moment to remove myself from the presence of Xenos and heretics,” she growled. Windmind pursed her lips together briefly, then gave a slight nod, her large bowl-shaped hat bobbing a bit atop her head. “Yes, a time to rest would be beneficial to us all,” Windmind said. “Perhaps there will be some form of housing provided to all of us?” “Oh yeah, I think the Overheads got something in mind for you guys,” Cage said. He flicked a cigarette butt off his lap and scratched his head. “Probably that huge residential complex for all the other diplomats and ambassadors, or something. Labor’s been working hard as hell to get it made.” He stretched a bit and folded his arms behind his head. “I’m just looking forward to getting back to my place and taking the longest nap I can before they haul my ass off to another thing.” Yamira reclined in her seat, idly running her fingers over the cover of her book as she tuned out the blathering of Cage and the Tau diplomat. Her mind wandered to other things. Of the litanies she read, of the orders she received, even of the hum of machinery and the chugging noises Bell made off in its corner. None of them soothed her agitated nerves. She rolled her head to the side and spotted Devon, idly sitting in his chair and tapping his metallic foot on the floor in rhythm with a light hum he had going. He’d always had that false leg, long before even meeting the Armageddon Guardsman, but he was never very consistent with how he got it. First it was from an Ork landmine left behind from the Third War of Armageddon, then it was a collapsing Space Hulk falling onto him whilst escaping genestealers, one time was apparently some daft story of being lost on a sand-covered Death World and having to eat his own foot to stay alive. She stopped asking around the same time she received her own war wounds. The Skiff groaned as it rolled to the side, disrupting everything within. Buster and Gab collided with one another and fell onto the floor, Cage dropped all seven of his cigarettes, Windmind squeaked as she tried to keep that hat of hers atop her head, and Bell had fallen right onto its back, screaming in binary from the sudden lack of stability. Devon covered his ears from the techno-babble screaming from the servitor’s vox, while Yamira clung tightly to her seat as she felt her stomach churn with the twists of the ship. “Bell, engage mag-locks!” Yamira ordered. Bell immediately ceased its digitized screaming with a series of beeps. A low hum came from the base of the machine as it slowly began to pull itself upright with its spider-like legs, digging themselves into the panelling to support its heavy body. Once it was upright, a dull blue light shone underneath, and with a dull thunk, Bell had affixed itself in place with a magnetic pull. By then, the Skiff had balanced itself out, though everyone was still naturally shaken. Amber opened the cockpit door, her mane an absolute mess and eyes wide as saucers. “Everyone okay?” she asked. “So sorry about that, there was a big metal thing flying past us and we had to swerve to avoid it, then there were these towers in the way and we had to go around that, I ended up hitting my head on the side of the controls…” She rubbed the side of her head with a hoof for further emphasis. “But we should be in the clear for now!” “Great…” Devon muttered, massaging his temples. “Does that we mean we land soon? Saint’s ashes, I thought this would’ve been smoother than Warp travel with the gellar fields on high….” “Oh, about two minutes, actually!” Amber said. “So please sit tight, we’ll be landing shortly.” The cockpit door closed again, and the cabin was left in relative silence once more. While Bell disengaged its mag-locks and the others picked themselves up from the crash, Yamira simply sat in her seat and patiently waited for the most uncomfortable journey of her life (thus far) to end. Thankfully, the wait did not last long, as the familiar sound of the Skiff touching down on solid ground. Amber exited the cockpit again, smiling gleefully. “We have arrived!” Yamira couldn’t unfasten herself from her seat fast enough, already back on her feet and making her way towards the gangplank. She briefly halted in her steps to order Bell to follow. The servitor beeped and skittered across the floor behind its master, with Devon, still massaging away at his temples, following suit. When the door of the Skiff opened, Yamira had stayed herself when she saw into the pride of Merodi Universalis’ capital city. First she noticed was the taste of the air itself. Worlds within the Imperium always had this taste in the air, a coppery taste laced with ash from the industry of war, often heaviest in Forgeworlds and Hiveworlds, even the glorious Paradise Worlds and the Throneworld itself were not spared of this taste. But this? The air had a taste of freshness to the air that made Yamira’s tongue tingle, a purity to it not found even on most Agriworlds or unsettled territories. Once the taste had passed, she saw the sprawling city before her. Great glimmering towers of sleek and elegant design, sprawling as far as they eye could see. The metropolis lacked the intimidating overview of the Hive-Cities or the Fortresses of Imperium might, but it was an incredible sight to behold. It even held a beauty even as the skull-faced foundries of Mars loomed overhead in the sky above. She didn’t even realize she was holding her breath until Devon tapped her on the shoulder, rousing her from a daydream. “Lady Commissar,” he said. “Amber Dust procured us a transport. C’mon, let’s get going.” Yamira nodded and followed the Captain into a moderately sized wheelless transport vehicle, roughly bigger than a Hellhound Tank, where Amber, Windmind and Cage were already waiting, with Cage at the wheel. Yamira and Devon took their own seats in the back of the transport, while Bell stood upright and mag-locked itself in the most vacant seating spot it could find. “Tau lady, Bacon-bits, Captain Devon,” Cage said, resting his hands on the wheel. “Welcome to Celestia City, the big shiny heart of Merodi Universalis. Next stop, the Office of Relations.” Cage plucked two of his three cigarettes out of his mouth and snuffed them out in an ashtray. “Buckle up, because like hell am I going to get caught in the midday rush.” “Cage, no.” Amber cautiously said, already buckled in. “Cage, yes.” Cage replied, grinning ear to ear. The transport hummed to life as Cage turned on the ignition on. For some reason, Yamira felt her stomach prepare to lurch, and she never even considered motion sickness. “Smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em.” Windmind barely had a moment to ask ‘got what’, before they had gone from zero to eighty miles per hour, taking off into the wild expanse of the shining city of the Merodi. Yamira hated going fast. She hated having to hold onto her hat, she hated the sting of air in her eyes, she hated feeling the wind rip through the shreds of burned flesh in her cheeks, but the one thing she hated most was insane drivers who relished going fast. This was happening all at once. Zooming through the Merodi airways like a round from a misfired sniper, the hovering transport vehicle flew past other transports and ships with reckless abandon, everything was a blur of colors all around, and it was nauseating. Yamira had dug her fingers in as hard as she could into the upholstered armrests, feeling the sheer turbulence peel away what little skin she had left on her face, staring dead ahead as the smoking madman drove them through Merodi airspace. She moved what little she could to see how her fellow passengers were doing on this madcap ride. Devon clung just as tightly as she did, but the lucky sod had managed to get his hazard mask on to keep himself safe from the torrent of wind. Amber looked positively terrified, blown back into her seat with her eyes forced wide open by the sheer g-force. Even Windmind looked completely startled, using her bowl-hat to shield herself while her silken robes billowed about wildly like a blanket in front of a cooling fan at maximum speed. And Cage, mad smoking Cage, was just grinning ear to ear, his cigarette smoke trailing out of his lips as he simply embraced the speed. “Woah, red light.” The transport came to an abrupt stop before a hanging display of three lanterns, one of which, of course, glowing bright red. The whiplash was instantaneous, Yamira and the others immediately buckling forward in their restraints, although a wet and squishy pop didn’t sound all too appropriate for a midday drive. Yamira felt extremely lightheaded, rubbing her undamaged half looking around woozily. “Um… Lady Commissar?” Devon said, tapping Yamira’s shoulder. She turned her head towards the Captain, feeling something wet smack against her cheek. Devon pointed to his right eye, a gesture which Yamira mirrored and… “... Saints preserve me,” Yamira muttered. “It happened again.” Amber turned around in her seat. “What happened agai- OH MY GOODNESS!” The pony went from yellow to green quickly, pressing a hoof to her mouth to keep the bile down. Yamira sighed and rolled her head back, clutching her own greying eyeball, dangling haphazardly off her scorched cheek by useless nerves and sinews. “Captain, watch to make sure nothing is awry.” she instructed, carefully raising her eyeball up. Devon just nodded and watched Yamira carefully insert her eye back into its socket. It was a gross process, one that required a lot of precision and care, lest she end up with one more missing piece of her body and a demand by the Astra Militarum that she get proper bionics. If she wanted to consign herself to augmetics and constantly maintaining herself like a war machine, she may as well don red robes and join the Machine Cult. With a wet squelch, Yamira set her eye back in place. It rolled a bit in the socket, trying to situate itself properly in Yamira’s half-fried skull. “You can stop emptying your stomach over the side of the vehicle now.” Amber groaned and sat back in her seat, still a bit green with a line of drool running from the corner of her lips. “Sorry again…” Amber said. “I, uh…” She swallowed and rubbed her head. “I don’t handle blood well. Haven’t been able to since I was a filly, when I saw a carriage, ulp, run over a poor squirrel.” “I didn’t ask for your life story, Xenos.” Yamira curtly said. “I simply got tired of hearing you painting the side of this vehicle green.” “Doesn’t matter, this thing’s a rental.” Cage added, flicking his spent cigarette into the expanse below. Amber sighed again and leaned on the arm of her seat, while Yamira looked on the opposite side. She immediately wished she hadn’t when she saw what was hovering beside them. A jet, black as midnight, with curves and points all ending in fine sharp blades, only slightly eclipsing their own transport thricefold. The sleek, edged exterior looked ready and able to lop any an unsuspecting head clean off from a mere drive-by, the silver, sinister weapons no doubt primed and ready to tear a hole in the fabric of reality of whatever target it may meet. It hovered silently midair, an ominous, nightmarish thing that could sooner be classified as a weapon more than a ship. Yamira stared at the jet agape, her lips going dry and sweat forming across her brow as she slapped her hand on the arm of her chair, trying desperately to reach for a weapon. “Everything alright, gue’la?” Windmind asked. She hadn’t even noticed the Tau was staring at her. “Razorwing.” Yamira quickly said, still slapping her seat. “A what?” Windmind tilted her head. “Razorwing!” Yamira shouted. Devon practically sprang to his feet, only constrained by his seatbelt. “A what?!” Devon exclaimed. “THERE’S A DRUKHARI RAZORWING HERE!” Yamira screamed, finally tearing free her sword from its sheath and wildly swinging it over the edge of the transport. The gap between Yamira, her sword, and the Razorwing was a good few feet, so the Lady Commissar merely sliced at the air. “DRIVE ME CLOSER, I WANT TO HIT THEM WITH MY SWORD!” Yamira unbuckled herself and stood up, still swinging haphazardly, while the transport itself started to rock. “Hey, hey, hey, are your brains fried too?” Cage said, clasping tightly onto the wheel. “We’re hundreds of miles in the air and I don’t think any of you guys can fly!” Yamira just kept screaming and trying to cut the black metal jet to ribbons from fifteen feet away. “Alright, can someone sit her ass down? The light’s about to turn.” Devon unbuckled himself and wrapped his arms around the Lady Commissar’s abdomen, just as she was about to plant a boot on the door of the transport. She fought and screaming bloody murder, still resisting being pulled back down onto her seat. She wanted the ship destroyed, she wanted to tear open its cockpit, she wanted to plunge her sword into the heart of its pilot again and again and again until she painted the whole damn thing with its disgusting alien innards. “THAT’S IT!” shouted Amber, jumping from her seat and slamming both of her hooves onto Yamira’s shoulder. The Earth Pony’s surprising display of strength caused Yamira to buckle from the blow, dropping her sword onto the floor of the transport and losing her focus. Yamira quickly found herself both free of Devon’s grasp and sitting down back in her seat, staring face to face with a very angry pony. “I tried to be as nice as I could be, I know how crazy sensitive and violent the Imperium gets, I got enough of it back home, but good gosh and golly, my patience has worn thin quick! You’re in Merodi territory as a dignitary representing your entire empire, so sit down, shut up, and behave!” Yamira had no words. This meek little Xenos, which was practically quivering at her boots when they first met, had the gall to yell at her. More than that, it struck her down with those flimsy nubby hooves of hers. Yamira was too shocked to even say anything, just remaining sat in her seat. Amber snorted and sat back in her chair. “Cage, let’s go. And don’t go so fast, this isn’t a street race.” “Uh… yeah.” Cage said. Seems he was equally as dumbfounded, not even lighting the cigarette hanging limply in his mouth. The light changed from red to green, and the drive continued, while the Razorwing sped off ahead. The rest of the drive was in silence, even more pregnant of a quiet than the flight aboard the shuttle to Celestia City. Yamira felt her mind stuck in a feedback loop, trying to process what had just happened. First a Drukhari ship, here, so close to the Throneworld itself, just slightly out of arm's reach; and now the meek, miniature horse Xenos had suddenly grown a pair, as someone so crass would put it. The galaxy had gone mad, and Yamira couldn’t tell whether she was a byproduct, or only now aware of it. She hadn’t even realized the ride had ended and the others were offloading onto the ground until, once again, roused from her daydreaming by her second. “Let’s go, Lady Commissar.” Devon said. Yamira nodded and unbuckled herself from the transport’s seat, exiting as everyone else made their way to the towering spire of the Relations Office. Though Yamira still felt at a state of unease, as she saw a sharp black shape entering into one of the entrances high above. Yet still, she moved on. The apparent leader of the Merodi Universalis awaited.