"Commander, are you certain you wish to issue such an order?"
The Tau fleet loomed tens of millions of kilometers away from Dukel's frigate—a negligible distance in the vastness of space combat, where engagements could be decided in an instant.
As the Tau weapon systems locked onto the Imperial frigate, an adjutant turned to Commander Shadowsun, seeking confirmation.
"Yes." Shadowsun's gaze remained fixed on the star map, her voice unwavering.
In the visions granted to her, she had foreseen a terrible fate for the Tau Empire—the destruction of her people at the hands of the Second Primarch of the Imperium.
The dark allies who had revealed this truth to her had only one request: lure the Primarch to the designated coordinates.
Now, fortune had provided an even greater opportunity. The one fated to destroy the Tau had left the Imperium's legions and stood before her, vulnerable, aboard a lone frigate.
Shadowsun had two choices.
One: Obey her shadowed benefactors and lead the Primarch into the trap.
Two: Seize the opportunity to eliminate the future annihilator of her race here and now.
She hesitated only briefly before making her decision.
No species would allow the harbinger of their extinction to walk freely.
"Only by eliminating the Second Primarch of the Imperium can I safeguard the Tau Empire and my kin."
"We will emerge victorious," she declared to the uneasy Fire Caste officers beside her.
On the bridge of the Sword-class frigate, Dukel remained unaware of the Tau's movements.
Having plundered a vast trove of artifacts, the Primarch was engrossed in testing a newfound power.
Crimson flames ignited across his form.
Dukel's expression betrayed a flicker of disbelief. Unlike the empyrean-born fire of psykers, these flames required no communion with the Warp. They obeyed no psychic force, nor did they stem from subspace sorcery.
This fire was real. It conformed to the immutable laws of the material universe.
It was the power of a C'tan Shard—the Burner. As his lifeforce neared 250,000, his hunger for the fragments of the Star Gods had become almost instinctual.
If he sought to break free of the physical universe's constraints, he would need the power of the C'tan.
But before he could further test his newfound abilities, his senses flared.
Tens of millions of pinpricks of light bloomed in the void, converging upon his frigate.
His expression turned cold.
An ambush?
Void shields surged to full power, but the relentless Tau bombardment threatened to collapse them. Then, a radiant green glow infused the shield arrays, stabilizing them against the onslaught.
Dukel turned in surprise to Aisha, the goddess of the Aeldari's Life aspect. She had intervened without hesitation, her power effortlessly reinforcing the ship's defenses.
"Your Highness, the augurs detect a large Tau fleet," a voice crackled over the vox.
"Preliminary estimates suggest over four thousand enemy vessels."
A heavy silence fell over the bridge.
"Your Highness, shall we initiate a tactical withdrawal?" Gris, the senior Tech-Priest, suggested cautiously.
The Tau vastly outnumbered them. A single Sword-class frigate stood little chance against such a force.
Gris harbored no particular respect for the upstart Tau Empire. Had circumstances been different, he might have entertained the thought of battle. But this frigate carried priceless relics, salvaged from the ruins of the Endless Museum. He feared not death—but the potential loss of those artifacts was unacceptable.
"Retreat is unnecessary," Dukel countered, his eyes alight with confidence. "I already have a perfect battle plan."
Gris's augmetic eye twitched at those words. From past experience, such statements from the Primarch rarely led to conventional outcomes.
"And what, Your Highness, is this plan?"
"Simple. You will remain here to protect the frigate," Dukel said. "I, along with my Doom Slayers, shall board the alien vessel and eliminate the threat directly."
Silence.
Gris waited for elaboration. None came.
"And then?" he pressed.
Dukel gave him a quizzical look. "And then? Once I'm aboard, what can they possibly do?"
The Primarch's battle cry rang out across the frigate, igniting the hearts of his warriors. "My sons, to battle! We shall descend upon the enemy as gods and teach these upstart aliens a lesson they will never forget!"
Heavy footfalls echoed through the ship's corridors.
Dukel led twenty-two Doom Slayers, their ceramite-clad forms marching toward the landing bay. In their power armor, each warrior stood over three meters tall. The once-spacious corridors felt cramped, forcing them into single file.
At the vanguard, Dukel's five-meter frame all but filled the passageway, forcing crew members to press themselves against bulkheads in reverence as he passed.
A demigod walked among them, and none doubted his inevitable victory.
Before the landing craft's hatch, Dukel grimaced. "The Mechanicus really didn't consider my comfort when designing these things."
"Father," one of the Slayers responded, "The Inner Fire carries ten dropships built specifically for you. You've never used them. In previous battles, you've either crashed ships into enemy vessels or, on one occasion, rode a macro-cannon shell."
Dukel scowled. "Shut up."
The warriors secured themselves in their seats. The landing bay's metal doors yawned open, and the craft launched into the void.
Through the reinforced viewport, the endless majesty of the cosmos stretched before them—meteorite belts drifting like rivers, starlight shimmering across the void's infinite expanse.
Dukel ignored the breathtaking spectacle. His gaze locked onto his target: a Tau cruiser, ten kilometers in length, its sleek hull adorned with heavy weaponry.
One of the fleet's primary battleships.
He marked the coordinates and issued the order to attack.
The landing craft accelerated, its inbuilt teleportation array activating in an instant. A shimmering tear in reality formed, and the drop vessel reappeared mere kilometers from the cruiser.
Tau defense drones swarmed to intercept, unleashing a storm of fire. Automated shielding units deflected the barrage, while countermeasure drones sacrificed themselves to clear a path.
A gap formed in the enemy void shields.
Melta charges detonated, carving an entry point into the ship's hull.
The landing craft slammed through the molten breach, embedding itself deep within the cruiser's interior.
Smoke billowed through the corridors.
The Tau's alarm klaxons blared.
"Intruders detected! Security response teams, deploy immediately!"
Dukel and his Slayers unshackled themselves from their restraints.
Weapons primed.
The hunt began.
The first to detect the invasion were the Tau's AI-controlled defense drones, their sensors alerting them to the presence of unregistered landing craft. Within moments, the whirring of servos and the synchronized footsteps of advancing Fire Warriors signaled the arrival of the nearby garrison—hundreds strong.
They swiftly established a formidable defensive line alongside the automated gun platforms. The instant the dust-choked air betrayed movement, the Fire Warriors opened fire without hesitation.
The battlefield erupted in a maelstrom of destruction. Plasma bolts shrieked through the air, the searing discharges of pulse rifles mingling with the thudding detonations of photon grenades. The drones' burst cannons spewed a relentless hail of projectiles, forming a lethal web of fire designed to annihilate anything caught within it.
Yet, amidst this overwhelming barrage, the unmistakable sound of heavy, deliberate footfalls continued, unfazed by the withering fire.
Through their visor displays, the Tau warriors saw monstrous figures emerging from the storm of dust and debris—towering humanoid behemoths, striding forward with terrifying purpose. Their advanced optics registered what their eyes would soon confirm: giants clad in baroque power armor, their forms wreathed in the aftershocks of battle.
And leading them was a figure even greater.
When the silhouette finally coalesced into full view, a crimson cloak billowing behind him like a tide of blood, terror took root in the hearts of the Tau soldiers. They beheld a warrior beyond mortal reckoning—one whose grim visage was carved from the very essence of war itself.
Dukel.
The Primarch's expression twisted into something resembling amusement, though there was no mirth in his voice when he spoke.
"The Tau, the youngest children of the stars—so eager, so naive, so utterly misguided."
With a sudden, unnatural burst of speed, Dukel lunged. A Fire Warrior barely had time to register the movement before an immense gauntlet clamped around his helmet. With the slightest flex of the Primarch's fingers, bone, cartilage, and ceramite shattered in unison. A grotesque burst of crimson painted the air as the corpse was hurled forward with brutal force.
The lifeless body struck the defensive line like a meteor, sending Fire Warriors tumbling to the ground.
"Consider this a lesson," Dukel declared, his voice like a pronouncement of doom. "Should you survive, you will have learned well."
With an effortless motion, he brought up his weapon—a double-barreled relic of devastation, nearly two meters in length. In the confined corridor, he did not even need to aim.
With a twist of the barrel, the mental relay linking his armor to the weapon flared to life. The ancient mechanisms whirred as the power source activated.
A tone chimed directly in his mind.
Ready.
Dukel pulled the trigger.
A deafening thunderclap shook the corridor as the weapon discharged. The recoil alone sent tremors through the war-god's frame, though he stood unshaken. What followed was not a mere shotgun blast—it was annihilation incarnate. A sphere of superheated energy roared outward, expanding into a wall of flame that surged through the passage.
The Fire Warriors had no time to react.
The inferno swept over them like the wrath of a vengeful god. The air itself became an extension of the weapon's fury, reducing armor and flesh alike to blackened husks. When the firestorm subsided, only a smoldering ruin remained. The passage ahead had been transformed into a nightmarish vision of charred metal and fused bone. The very deck plates beneath Dukel's feet glowed red-hot from the residual heat.
Without hesitation, the Doom Slayers moved forward. There was no need for orders; they understood his will instinctively. Each warrior advanced into the ship's depths, splitting into smaller units, bringing war to every corner of the cruiser.
For any lesser force, dispersing amidst enemy territory would be suicidal.
But against the Tau?
The screams and brief, desperate bursts of gunfire echoing through the corridors told the inevitable tale of slaughter.
Dukel crushed the shattered remains of a combat drone beneath his boot, his stance brimming with unrelenting purpose. His eyes burned with the fire of battle.
"Come forth! Let us see if you are worthy of death at my hands!"
Meanwhile, aboard the Tau flagship, Commander Shadowsun stared in shock at the unfolding chaos displayed in her tactical projections. The vast Imperial war machine was infamous, but even she had not expected this level of audacity.
It defied reason.
Her fleet—over four thousand ships strong—had encircled a single Imperial frigate. By all logic, this should have been an easy kill. Yet the Primarch had not only refused to flee but had taken the fight directly to them, boarding one of their own warships.
This makes no sense...
Shadowsun narrowed her eyes, her mind racing through the possibilities. She had fought the Imperium before, had studied its ruthless efficiency and staggering brutality. She knew the legends of the Primarchs—demigods of war, peerless strategists, warriors of unfathomable power.
She also knew that they did not act without purpose.
Why take such a risk? she asked herself. Why engage in a direct assault against overwhelming numbers? Unless...
Realization struck her like a cold blade to the spine.
"He's stalling us."
The words left her lips before she could stop them. The room fell silent as her officers processed the implication.
"The Imperium considers us a threat," she murmured, her mind piecing together the Primarch's plan. "If he can hold us here long enough, their reinforcements will arrive. The fleet is likely already en route. If we remain here, we will be the ones surrounded."
The thought sent a shiver down her spine.
She had been so focused on the prize—so eager to slay one of the Imperium's fabled sons—that she had nearly walked her fleet into a trap of her own making.
No, not "nearly."
He planned for this.
Her fingers clenched into fists. Shadowsun was not easily shaken, but the realization of how close she had come to disaster sent a wave of cold fury through her.
"Cunning human," she muttered. "You almost had us."
She turned sharply to her bridge officers.
"Prepare for withdrawal. This engagement is over."
Though her pride burned at the thought of retreat, her duty to the Greater Good demanded rationality. She would not allow her fleet to become another tally mark in the Imperium's long history of conquests.
For now, they would retreat.
But the war was far from over.
At the same time,
Dukel stormed into the main control room, an unstoppable force of destruction. The metal floor was slick with the blood of fallen Tau warriors, their shattered bodies strewn about in silent testament to the Empire's dominance. The cruiser was no longer theirs—it belonged to the Imperium now.
The Doom Slayers advanced swiftly to the control panel. With their enhanced cognition and combat prowess, commandeering the vessel was a trivial task. But before they could proceed, a flickering light caught their attention.
The Tau control console had activated.
A holographic projection materialized before the Primarch.
"Master of the Imperial Legion, your strategy has been exposed." Shadowsun's voice carried a calm confidence as she met Dukel's gaze without hesitation. "I appear before you to tell you this: The warriors of the Tau Empire are unlike any enemy you have faced before. We are wise, disciplined, and will not fall prey to the crude traps that have ensnared your past foes."
Dukel blinked.
A moment of silence passed.
"Who... are you?"
Shadowsun's expression faltered ever so slightly as Dukel's confusion broke through her carefully crafted speech.
Strategic intention? What strategic intention?
His force was an archaeological escort. They hadn't even brought a Librarian along, let alone devised some grand scheme.
Was my strategy... just to charge in and kill xenos?
But before he could voice his thoughts, the holographic projection flickered and cut out. Shadowsun had disconnected the communication.
Elsewhere, the Tau commander turned sharply to her lieutenant of the Fire Caste. "Deploy a contingent of auxiliary forces to delay the Primarch. We're pulling back."
Her golden eyes were cold, calculating.
If the Imperial forces were indeed closing in, engaging Dukel directly would be a waste of precious time. The best course of action was to sacrifice some forces to disrupt whatever plan the Imperium had and ensure a safe retreat.
And what better pawns to use than the alien auxiliaries?
The so-called "Tau Alliance Army"—mockingly dubbed by the Imperium—was nothing more than a collection of subjugated alien auxiliaries. Their purpose was clear: to serve, to die, and to buy time for the Greater Good.
Without hesitation, Shadowsun gave the order.
The xenos auxiliaries would hold the line.
The Tau fleet would escape.