Getting Warhammered [WH 40k Fanfic]

*** A few hours ago, upon the surface of Ravacene ***

“They are panicking, desperate,” Shaper Khorek Gota hissed under his breath, watching the distant Gue’la battlements from his perch up a high branch some two hundred metres away. “Like cornered beasts.”

Khorek was the Shaper of the Bloodhawk kindred, one of the most populous and powerful kindred upon the world of Ravacene. He fulfilled the task of what humans would call the chief and spiritual leader of his kindred. He was the one who guided them upon their paths of evolution and who had within his mind all the dos and don’ts of Shaping. He shaped the young kroot within his kindred in body, mind and spirit alike, as was his duty.  In all his time leading the Bloodhawk kindred, no more than a handful of Kroot ever reached an evolutionary dead-end.

That achievement, and the strength of his kindred, was what elevated him above the other Shapers of lesser kindred and brought him one of the seven seats on the Shaper Council of Ravacene. 

One of the seven whose collective wisdom and choices guided the rest of the Kroot, and the Shapers of the other kindred upon the world. Sadly, oftentimes, especially lately, he’d found his voice to be overshadowed and deafened under the collective voices of four other Council Shapers. The voice of reason he tried to embody as an advocate of stoicism and the way of the patient hunter had gone unheeded. 

Perhaps it was his fault for not being more proactive in seeking an understanding with his fellow councillors. Perhaps he should have made alliances with them. Shaper Gorak certainly seemed reluctant, and Khorek was sure he could have talked some sense into the Shaper of the Venom Fang kindred, too, if he had a few hours alone with the kroot.

Alas, now every kindred on the planet was to throw themselves upon the walls of the humans and penetrate them or die trying. 

This was not the way of a smart hunter. No. This was a disaster waiting to happen. A disaster, Shaper Khorek had no power to stop, not anymore. The time for words was over, the Council had made its decision, and the minuscule number of their Tau allies on the planet offered no resistance either.

“All this foolishness to satisfy a single Kroot’s thirst for vengeance,” Khorek hissed, cursing the man who he knew was to blame for all the dead kroot he would have to bury tonight. The man who lost a child to one of the human General’s ingenious traps. “Shameful.”

And now, because that man just so happened to be the most influential Shaper on the Council, thousands of Kroot will die a wasteful death. 

He wasn’t sure what happened exactly, but he’d heard from the Tau just an hour ago that the Imperial ships had left the planet, leaving only a token force behind. Nothing more.

It was either a human trap in the making, or the humans were retreating from an incoming foe more powerful than themselves. In both instances, attacking was the wrong decision. 

How a man so shortsighted and easily gripped by vengeance became a Shaper was a mystery in and of itself. The man shamed the role by his mere existence and thoughtlessness. A shaper had to treat each kroot in their kindred as their own flesh and blood. Care for them, but always look out for the good of the whole above that of the few.

Khorek huffed, reluctant in his heart as he descended from his perch. He moved without a sound, leaving not a single leaf ruffled in his wake. His kindred had been on the path of silent death for long before he became its Shaper. All the beasts, great and small, who skulked, hid and stalked in these verdant jungles now strengthened his body with their flesh.

He inherited their languid movements, their natural camouflage, their perfect muscle control. His kindred was one their Tau allies had classified as a ‘Stalker Kindred’, even if that by itself was such a reductive classification. They were so much more. Just merely devouring the flesh of some stealthy predator was not nearly enough for one to become the silent death. 

Colours and patterns rippled on his skin as he began to move, melding with his surroundings as he made his way down to the ground, landing without a sound with bent knees. He snuck back towards the burrows, where his kindred’s advance party now waited, slipping under a large fern that hid the entrance. 

“It is as we thought,” Khorek said, speaking in a calm whisper that might as well have been the whine of the wind above to human ears. “Something frightened the humans. They are like cornered beasts, ready to bite and scratch at anything even mildly threatening. We must prepare for them to use extreme measures. Our primary goal must be to reach the generators that power their energy shields. We should aim to bypass their main forces and shut down the generators, lest the humans prime them to explode out of spite when they know the end is near.”

“So the Council hasn’t reconsidered?” The eldest of them, a hunter by the name Verak, asked.

“My fellows in the Shaper Council felt the time for words was over, and so they are letting their actions speak for themselves as we speak,” Khorek said, carefully masking the disdain in his voice. It wouldn’t do for the younger ones to be exposed to his failings, which was something his inability to feel respect for a certain fellow Shaper counted as in his books. “The attack commences, and we are lagging behind the other kindred across Ravacene, who are no doubt fighting already.”

More like throwing themselves at fortified walls and energy shields like a horde of brainless chaff. 

“Which is why we must not waste any more time,” Khorek continued, tapping the butt of his hunting rifle on the ground. “Send word for the other hunting parties to gather. I will head the frontal attack. Vorak, you will choose five hunters and take them to shut down the generators. The faster you accomplish the task, the less needless blood will be spilt.”

“Understood, Shaper,” the veteran said, nodding gruffly. Khorek hoped Vorak would survive this assault, for if he didn’t, the Shaper had no other candidate nearly half as deserving to be his successor on hand. “We will strike them from behind once the task is done.”

“Be careful,” Shaper Khorek said. “The cornered beast is the most dangerous, and that moment where they feel their energy field lose power and see us press in on them from front and back will make them feel like such beasts the most. But you know the spite of a dying human, so I will not waste any more of my breath on warnings. Go.”

***

The human physique was no match for the body of a kroot. That much was a fact, a very painful fact to those humans who lay about Shaper Khorek in dying heaps. 

His hunting spear flowed around him in savage swipes and lunges as he himself flowed in its wake like the wind amidst the trees of a forest. Only, the trees were the humans and each swipe of his spear reaped a life from one. 

In close quarters combat like this, his favoured hunting rifle was of little use. Even his spear was almost cumbersome, and he debated switching over to his ivory short swords. 

Colours and patterns rippled across his skin as he fought, dragging the gaze of the less experienced guardsmen, distracting them in crucial moments. Their aim was flawed and most often wouldn’t have hit him even if he had been standing still. But he was not, and he also had a handful of them clustered around him at all times, so they’d never have a clean shot at him.

His warriors fought by his side, hopefully emboldened by their Shaper leading the charge and showcasing his experience. As much as it irritated him to fight such a protracted battle. 

In his eyes, letting the prey feel fear was a failing of the hunter. It meant he had failed to deliver death unnoticed. Usually, it meant he failed in some way.

But now it meant that he strolled right up to his foe in clear view. It was shameful and aggravating that he’d been pushed to do such a thing.

He caught a chitter on the wind, hidden amidst the din of the battle and the defiant warcries of the humans. Khorek almost sighed, but that would have been too revealing. Instead, he continued as if he’d heard nothing, and if he just so happened to herd the humans he was fighting closer to the entrance of their burrows, it was merely a coincidence.

A few seconds later, the energy field above faded from view, and just as the humans started to panic, Vorak’s hunters surged forth from the buildings they’d been protecting. Pincered like that, stuck between a rock and a hard place, they fell quickly. The fortification was then scoured for survivors, and Khorek stared up at the sky.

This was the third such fortification to fall to his kindred. He couldn’t help but wonder how the others were doing. His kindred had accomplished their goals, conquering two of the fortifications the Tau thought might hold some greater importance to the humans, and a third that had the misfortune of being nearby. 

It was a success, but it didn’t feel like one. He’d lost more kroot on this day than he had over the last five months of war combined. It was not worth it. 

The kroot were a warlike people, that was true, but that was to feed their Shaping and better themselves, hone their bodies and minds. Senseless bloodshed that produced only dead kroot was not their way. 

“The Tau have sent a message, Shaper,” a young hunter said, stopping at a respectful distance. “They have a reinforcement fleet 30 minutes away from orbit. They will be sending reinforcements for the ground assault and orbital bombardment onto any particularly stubborn human bases.”

As expected. Shaper Khorek hummed, then clicked his tongue. “‘They be sending reinforcements for the ground assault’? The T’au?”

“Yes, Shaper.” The man had the look of one searching his memories, trying to dig up any fragment of additional detail. “They have … an ally, apparently, who will lead the ground assault.”

“An ally,” Shaper Khorek hummed, then shook his head. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a worthless gesture then. The Tau were of little use in combat on worlds such as Ravacene outside of their information gathering capabilities and contacts up in the sky. Perhaps this ‘ally’ of theirs — and since when did the Tau have allies instead of vassals anyway? — would be able to lessen the horrid losses of his people. “We will be spending the next hour scouting then. Wait for these reinforcements to arrive and take their measure, decide how to proceed after. Send for hunter Vorak.”

Thirty minutes later, the Shaper and his ten best hunters watched their next target from afar. This base was one that had come under assault from the Green Serpents kindred, and fended it off, killing their Shaper and sending them into a retreat little over an hour ago. 

Khorek waited, eyes narrowed as he observed the humans he could see. They were moving about in haste, and the ones that weren’t were peering out at the treeling with suspicious glares, rifles pointed vaguely outward. They couldn’t help but fidget, too stressed to stay in place and be still.

A part of Khorek was starting to regret that he’d been one of those on the Council who voted against a more generous use of orbital bombardment in breaking the humans’ strongholds. He had been of the mind that victory wouldn’t be worth it if Ravacene became an inhospitable wasteland as a result of their hasty methods. Now, he felt victory wouldn’t be worth it with so few Kroot left to enjoy it.

If the Tau took control of the planet they’d bled and died for, what then? The Kroot of Ravacene might not have the same political weight after today that they did just a few days ago.

“Drop pods incoming,” Vorak signed, claws tapping his wrist. Khorek glanced up at the sky, squinting. He saw nothing. Gasps from his fellow hunters drew his attention back to the ground, and only his old age and experience stopped him from embarrassing himself by gasping himself.

Out in the open, in the scorched field around the human base, stood a … being, a creature. It had the regular bipedal proportions that Tau, humans and kroot all had, but that’s where the similarities ended. It looked almost insectoid, reminding Khorek of the Vespids at first with its marble-white carapace armour. Then it moved.

The creature flowed over the ground, the feline grace of an apex predator guiding its movements as it charged forward. It was almost too fast for his eyes, its speed blurring its form. 

A single warrior. Charging a fortified base that had fended off an entire kroot kindred, even if a small one. This had to be the ‘ally’ the Tau sent to aid them … but why was it charging in alone? It would die without achieving anything; even the greatest warriors could be felled by sheer numbers and an unadvantageous position.

The creature passed through the energy field like it had never been there, then it … an explosion rocked the base, dust flying up in a cloud as chunks of rockcrete rained down from above. 

Did that thing just run through a rockcrete wall?

As the dust cleared, the answer revealed itself to be yes, and as the sounds from within reached Khorek, he realised he may have underestimated the creature. Because the humans were letting out screams of such terror and desperation, mixed with a scant few defiant shouts, that he almost felt bad for them.

“That’s our reinforcement,” Khorek said, grabbing his long-spear. “Let’s not leave all the hunting to them. We go to their aid.”

And so they did, rushing at the base, slipping through the energy shield and crawling up the walls or slipping through the gaping hole the creature left in its wake. Then they were inside, falling on top of the distracted humans who were singularly focused on killing the monster in their midst. 

It wasn’t working. The creature’s carapace was barely showing any wear, a scorchmark here, a slight indent there, but nothing more. Khorek watched it move, watched it swing its alabaster blade around. No wasted movement, no superfluous flourishes, and yet, it looked like the creature was dancing. 

The humans were helpless, unable to track the being, shooting at blurry afterimages and screaming in confused terror as the being took life after life with the ease of a farmhand harvesting wheat.

Las-bolts were shrugged off, grenades were too slow to explode to hit it, chainswords were parried or ignored based on the swing. The concentrated plasma-beam of a ‘melta’ struck the creature in the shoulder, tearing the arm out of its socket and leaving behind a scorched stump. 

Khorek himself leapt over the humans, his spear lashing out to take the life of the human wielding the weapon, but by the time it struck true, the creature had its remaining hand plunged through the human’s chest. 

His help was unneeded, and by the looks of it, unappreciated. Perhaps, even unnoticed. It seemed as if the kroot didn’t even exist to the creature.

His slight irritation at that faded, his eyes blinking in befuddlement. The creature had both its arms again, and its dented, scorched carapace was pristine once more. 

How? He thought, but shook it off, slipping back into the flow of the battle. He would have ample time to think later, now it was time for action.

***

How a few hours could change everything. Even as experienced in most aspects of life as Shaper Khorek was, he still felt the switch had been jarring. He had been at war all his life. He was part of the second generation of kroot born and raised in the jungles of Ravacene, and has been overseeing the third generation for decades now. Centuries his people have spent at war, fighting the Imperium of Man, and now, it was over.

And the world had been handed over to the creatu- woman who had put an end to the war single-handedly. The woman whose very presence had sent the Imperial fleet running like a pack of spineless mutts. The woman whose permission he had to somehow get if his people wanted to remain in the jungles of Ravacene. 

Him. Because he was, by some twist of fate, the last living member of the Shaper Council. The other kindred had suffered grievous losses, some more than others, but even that left his own Bloodhawk kindred as the most numerous on the planet. Within hours of the war’s end, Shaper after Shaper visited him and asked for their diminished kindred to be merged into his own. Some were eager to leave, happy to leave Ravacene behind and get to the next war, but those who wanted a place to settle down? A place to operate out of? Those stayed. 

And they named him Master Shaper, the sole voice of authority within the now ascendant Bloodhawk kindred. The sole leader of all kroot who wished to stay on Ravacene. 

“Lady Echidna will see you now,” the young human informed him, smiling genially as she gestured for him to head inside.

Khorek watched the closed door. It was suspiciously bland, looking exactly the same as a hundred other doors he’d passed on his way here, traversing the colossal spaceship. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and raised his hand to knock, only for the door to swing open by itself before him.

He blinked, suppressed another sigh, then stepped through. How hard could it be to convince a woman so powerful that an entire Tau Sept had to treat her as an equal to let his kindred stay within her newly conquered domain? What bargains would need to be struck? What would he have to give up? Or would he even leave the room alive?

There is only one way to find out, I suppose.