"A human, when deprived of their social environments, will invariably begin to exhibit similar deteriorations that one might expect from one of us. The fact so many do exist in an atomized, individualized state without going completely mad is a testament to the overall mental fortitude of the species - a fortitude that will serve the Empire well as they are brought into the fold of the Greater Good. Now, we shall begin to discuss the various social structures that exist across the super-state that claims the majority of humanity and how they interrelate and self support one another despite lacking the guidance of-
You were started from the holorecording by an alert on your console. Your thumb tapped pause and you sat up ever so slightly. A twinge in your lower back made you hiss through your teeth. The muscle and joint pain was incidental to the effects of your Graduation - you only had a few more months of patches, six more months of pills, and then your hormonal mixture would be fully complete and you'd be an official member of the
Por.
You rubbed the small of your back, tried to make yourself look relatively presentable, checked your features in your own holopickup, frowned, and then tabbed to voice only, selecting the option from the hazy array of glyphs. The voice that came through was your teacher, Por'La T'au M'sena, sounding as warm and comforting as he had for your entire last three-year in the academy.
"Por'Saal T'au S'wei! I hope that I did not catch you at an inopportune moment. Is your Graduation going well?"
"Quite well, Professor," you said, smiling wryly. "I've noticed a distinct change in my scent."
"Remarkable, most only notice a change in the scent of others," M'sena said, his dry wit striking you unexpectedly. You put your hand over your mouth to keep in a most un-Por giggle.
"You know what I mean, Professor," you said. "I've also found a strange change in my appetites. I've stopped enjoying spicy food as much."
"I've heard of similar things - my Graduation didn't impact my tastebuds as much. But I did find I stopped enjoying action holos," he said. "I think I might have begun to spin out potential narratives involving the villains - why they made the choices they made, how they ended up in the positions that would lead them to being blasted apart by whatever Shas'o hero was taking center stage." He chuckled. "My coworkers said I stopped being any fun at all."
"I think you're fun, Professor," you said, brightly.
Wait, did that sound too fawning? Uh. Before you could apologize, M'sena continued.
"I am glad to hear I have entertained you. I hope I have also educated you - for I happen to be bringing you some good news."
Your entire body buzzed like a tuning fork.
"You have gotten a plumb assignment," M'sena said.
You felt yourself lurch between excitement and dizzying, almost vomit inducing terror. Your mind whirled. Where would you be put? Into some important administrative position? A diplomatic attache? You had hopes. You had dreams. But the Eternals and the Council knew what was best - they were older and they were wiser and knew better than you did what you'd do well at. But still. You leaned forward towards the voc-pickup.
"The Academy Council has been most taken with your paper, in fact," M'sena said. Your excitement hitched. "I've had several Councilors actually talk to me about it in person.
The Immortal Emperor: Human Psychology and Religious Institutions. Catchy title. And impressive coursework. They want you at Attruso."
Your stomach dropped out from under you.
"A…Attruso?" You asked.
That was a human name.
That was a
human name for a
human world.
"I believe they're considering renaming it," M'sena said.
"W-What am I going to do there?"
"I'm sending the file so you can begin to study up."
The holo display blinked and your original view switched to some declassified documents. You leaned forward even more and started to skim the text playing across the screen, and looking at the photographs. Incredibly weary, but happy, human faces with their odd protruding noses, standing before heavy fortifications, pocked with craters and shell holes. A line of people marching with their hands behind their heads, looking grim as snowflakes dropped from a flint gray sky. Fields of factories that had been bombed into rubble - the toxic pollutants that the human's unthinkably wasteful industrial ecologies outputted by the ton intermixing carelessly with soil and groundwater.
"Cadians," you whispered, quietly.
"Quite a few of them. They do seem to get around, despite the unfortunate events that befell their homeworld." M'sena said. "Now, I will leave you to your studying. There will be a fuller briefing on your transport to the planetary body in question - your shuttle leaves at 0930 from the Ke'lah Spaceport."
"R-Right. Thank you, Professor."
"I have utter faith in you, my favorite pupil.
Aur'ocy shath'r'i tskan sha Tau'va."
"
Sha Tau'va." You responded, and the line clicked off.
You turned the next holo and felt like you'd been punched in the stomach. The Terran in the holo was wearing the blue bandana around her standard issue flak helmet to indicate she was a auxiliary. She was sitting next to a burned out tank and looked more exhausted than any creature you'd ever seen in your life - her eyes empty holes boring into yours across space and time. A long, primitive looking las-weapon was propped up next to her, covered with purity seals, cloth wrapping and other accoutrement that completely mystified yourself. She had her arms drawn around her shins.
Her name glowed in text and a quick dossier flowed next to her - and you realized this human was the crux of your assignment.
"
Darya Nevic," you whispered, tasting the exotic name on your tongue.
You sat up and nodded.
"Don't you worry," you said, confidently. "I'm coming to help!"
***
The shuttleport was bustling with people of every caste - Fire Warriors in their dress khaki, chatting and laughing as they bounced against one another until some hardened NCO bellowed at them, hard working
Fio caste hurrying hither and thon on any number of tasks, most of them in the bright orange and yellow of ground crew, a few spindly tall
Kor caste pilots in gravharnesses, heading to their ships, and buzzing among them all were helpful Kor'vesa, buzzing about in their many, many forms. You had one yourself, a childhood friend named Lem'ra, who was carrying half your luggage. You knew she could have carried it all, but…well, you didn't want to burden her rather old grav-engine, not when you were perfectly capable of toting half your baggage.
Even if your…back was killing you by now.
You came to the front of the line and a smiling
Fio caste maybe ten years past their graduation took your ticket voucher. He checked it, then whistled. "Military escort!" he said, cheerfully. "You're heading outbound?"
"To the rimward front, I think," you said, nodding cheerfully. "I'm going to do some diplomatic outreach with the humans."
His face went from cheerful to closed off. "Ah."
"...t-they're just as loyal members of the Empire once they're fully acclimated," you said, hurriedly, as the ticket was registered in the computer. Lem'ra buzzed next to you, detecting the agitation in your voice, even if she didn't quite understand it.
The shuttleport official remained closed off, his voice having all the sounds of locking doors and slamming force screens. "Quite, honorable Por'Saal. Have a safe flight."
You had not realized how…intense the disapproval would hit. You had been disapproved of before - memories of parents, teachers, and the like…and…they had all hit hard enough. But ever since you had become taking the hormones that would change you from a casteless to a
Por, your brain had altered subtly. Your eyes had changed, even. Your scent receptors picked up new flavors on the air. And…you had not realized how profoundly it would feel, the
disapproval painted clearly across this man's face, slamming into your chest with a crushing finality. You actually felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes. Forced them down. You inclined your head, turned, and hurried off as Lem'ra buzzed beside you, nervously.
"It's okay, Lem'ra,' you whispered, petting the drone's head. To distract yourself, you nattered away. "D-Did you know humans have drones too? T-They even see drones as friends and family as well, they venerate them as spirits and ancestors, as some of our people do. Did you know that?"
Lem'ra let out a little whirring chirrup.
"It's true!" You sniffed and nodded. "Why, they will even build drones into the skulls of their most honored ancestors."
Lem'ra's bloop was decidedly alarmed.
"Y-Yes, it's…a little morbid, but, it's actually a part of a long human tradition that they call…" You breathed in, then pronounced the words with great care."
Memento Mori. It means to remember you too will die. Humans are incredibly aware of their mortality. It's one of the things that makes them so grounded in the here and now, and so brave, and so admirable, in many ways. I think a lot of us T'au take it the wrong way. That's…" you realized you had reached the boarding area and several people were looking at you curiously. You trailed off and Lem'ra chirruped happily. Your cheeks darkened.
Children carried on conversations with Kor'vesa. And you weren't a child. Not anymore.
Boarding came a half hour later and when a chime rang out in the waiting area. The doors opened and shortly, you were in your seat next to an old and rather fat Fio caste, who started to snore almost immediately. The shuttle's engines whirred and you jounced in your seat as the entire vehicle lifted up on a plume of glowing flames - heading towards the spaceport in orbit.
Towards your destiny.
***
The
Var'Eldi, a Kir'shasvre class frigate, was a lot more cramped than you expected. When you mentioned that to the crewmember who escorted you to your closet-sized cabin, they had chuckled and explained: "The majority of the ship is machinery, armory, void shield emitters, weaponry, automation systems. We only live in about ten percent of it."
Ten percent of four kilometers should have been more space, or so you thought, but…well, once you had gotten your bags set down and set Lem'ra down on your bed and caressed her curved, battered frame so she stopped buzzing worriedly at you, you had headed to the conference room you were called too.
There were three T'au there: One Shas'ui, and two Por'ui, all male, all watching you intently. The shorter and older of the Por stood and offered his hand to you with a warm smile. "This is the human gesture, yes?" he asked, as you took his hand with a beaming smile.
"Yes, you got it exactly, Por'ui!" you said, excitedly. "Though, did you know that not all humans shake hands? There are many gestures that they use to, ah…greet…one another." You tamped down on your excitement as the Por'ui shook your hand and released it.
"Told you she was perfect," the other Por'ui said to the Shas'ui, who nodded.
"I am Jaos," he said, with typical blunt Fire Caste manners. "Military intelligence. This is a joint caste operation. You've read the dossier?"
"On
Sergeant Darya Nevic?" You asked, slipping into Common Terran with ease as you took the offered seat - after everyone else had sat down, of course. "Yes, I have. It was a remarkable dossier."
"Quite," Shas'ui Jaos said. "She's quite a propaganda coup for the Empire and for our pacification efforts on the planet and auxiliary orbital fronts. However, she is exhibiting…" he paused.
"Psychological trouble," the Por'ui who had shaken your hand said.
"What kind?" you asked.
"We aren't sure," Shas'ui Jaos said. "Her recruiter, the Honourable Mui'el, did not survive the war, and they did not leave us much to go on. That is why we want you. Your study of the humans eclipses all but the best xenoanthropologists working in the Leading Front - and those individuals are extremely busy dealing with the current
Gue'ron'sha negotiations."
"Ahhhh, the
Adeptus Astartes," you said, brightly. "Were any active in this front? The dossiers were mostly focused on the baseline humans activities."
"No, fortunately," Jaos said, his voice wry. "Based on what you read, what do you think of the Cadian?"
"Well, firstly, that's not actually her ethnic group," you said, cheerfully. "She's from an
agri-world. That is a human term for one of their monoeconomies - specifically, agriculture in this case. She was transplanted into this Cadian regiment during prior service against the religious schismatics that the Imperium seems hell bent on genociding out of existence.."
"
Chaos," Jaos said, using a Common Terran word - impressive! You had known quite a few
Por cast who hadn't known it. "I've…
met them before. I think schismatic is a bit underselling it."
"Well, we can't trust their propaganda, obviously," you said, trying to not sound like you were primly correcting an older, higher ranked member of another caste, even if he was being quite silly. "A-Anyway, it seems that she attained a high amount of regard from the Imperial civilian demographics and military leadership for her actions…but…as she was the only survivor of her mission, I believe she suffers from a condition similar to one a T'au might if they survived while their friends did not. Survivor's guilt. But worst? Humans have an incredibly strong in-group, out-group bias. The fact she was
not Cadian and yet well respected by the civilian branches of the human government might have led to…considerable interpersonal friction."
"Like, say, a resentful sept member imagining he's being passed over for promotion because he belongs out of the sept of his coworker?" the quiet Por'ui said. You nodded.
"Precisely! But due to their unregulated endocrine systems and casteless society, there would be no social redressement of these issues. It'd fester, like…a poorly treated wound."
Jaos winced at that. "Well put, Por'saal," he said, and you felt two meters tall.
"We want you to be her attache," the quiet Por'ui said, quietly. "Find out why she's so psychologically troubled and fix it. We're going to begin using her for propaganda, and we want to ensure that she can stand up to the pressures. We're all parts of the Greater Good - it is no good if a part breaks before its time. This is no mere puff assignment, though. If she is successfully utilized in this case, then it will reduce the time it takes for the humans on not just this world by several others to be integrated into the Empire. The sooner they are a part of us, the sooner they can unlearn their backwards religious dogma and their hateful bigotries, the sooner the galaxy can begin to heal from this war and the Empire can move forward."
You frowned. "Respectfully, their religion is not backwards. They say it is a ten thousand year old tradition - it exceeds the Greater Good in duration and diversity. It may not be as
designed as our beliefs, but it has strengths to have survived so long. I will find harmony between her faith and ours."
You blushed. Had you said that too forcefully? You fidgeted a bit in your seat - but then the more talkative of the two Por'ui laughed.
"I told you. She's perfect."
You inclined your head, to hide your blush.
***
After what felt like an eternity trapped in a closet, reading dossiers and files and looking at
Darya's face in the holo again and again and again, caressing the curve of her cheek and thinking to yourself endless, unanswerable questions…
How can a woman look so tired?
What has she seen?
How can I help her?
What can I do for her?
Am I good enough?
Is anyone good enough?
…you finally arrived in orbit around the human
Forge World. The shuttle that takes you down from the frigate feels, paradoxically, like you've moved into a much bigger ship. It jounces through the upper atmosphere, and through the window, you can see kilometers upon kilometers of crushed landscape, massive areas of the cities bombed flat by a combination of orbital strikes and the enormous parks of human artillery.
The buildings that survive, though, are…awe inspiring. Kilometers of hardened rockcrete, flying buttresses large enough to fit an entire hab block between, macrostatues that seem almost geological in shape and function. The surviving iconography of their minority religion, the
Adeptus Mechanicus, dominated everywhere- which only made sense, the
Forge Worlds were their holy sites, places where the persistent minority was allowed to practice openly and without restriction or pogrom.
Though…actually, there were interesting debates on that subject. Did the
Mechanicus actually serve as a subordinate religion and face crackdown, as many splinter faiths did, or, were they a co-equal religion that was given honor and respect? There was also a third theory, which you thought was absurd, which was that both the
Mechanicus and the
Imperial Creed were both the same religion, only presenting different faces of the same god. Which was…insane, from an anthropological perspective.
Then the shuttle got close enough to see the refugee camps.
Your jaw dropped.
There were so many tents. So many winding lines leading towards brightly painted refectory buildings. So many people. So,
so many people. Your mind threw up the population figures of the Imperium and…it remained almost impossible to imagine. But it was one thing to write out the number of ten to the ten to the ten and so on and so forth until you hit the probable number of humans in the galaxy…and it was another to fly over the refugee camps. And over. And over. And over. Then the mass grave - you had read it was mostly done by the humans, who had needed to toss the bodies in when their own government had bombed them, but it still spoke to the deprivation of the camp.
And through it all, spring had come. Tiny shoots of green spackled the open field. Then…
More tents.
More tents.
More lines.
Then, finally, the whirring of the areobreak and the hissing of engines and the shuttle rumbled. The ground was getting closer now - and then the walls of the shuttleport. The wheels hit the ground and you rocked forward. You grunted as the straps bit into your shoulders, then slapped back against the wall, eyes half closed.
"Hoof…" you whispered.
WHen you got off the shuttle, the thing that hit you first was the smell. Even over the exhaust fumes and the clean plasma fires of the engine, you could smell the stink of bodies and decay. You looked around yourself as your hooves clicked against the hard rockcrete ground and you hurried to the luggage chute, where Lem'ra detached and hovered beside you with a worried chirrup. You looked around yourself and realized…this was a human shuttleport because it was built to the scale of their ambition and their reach.
They held the galaxy in their palm.
They built like it.
The shuttleport was
huge, with space enough for hundreds of vehicles to land and lift off at any time - and it looked painfully empty, and painfully battered. Even orbital weapons could only dent these walls, but they had done their damndest: Chunks were bitten out of every part of the northing wall like some giant beast had bit down and chewed. You were still watching them when a cheerful voice said.
"Pretty nasty, huh?"
You spun and gaped.
The human who stood before you
towered. He was…he was so tall. And so…pink! Your eyes widened as you looked up at him and Lem'ra let out a nervous chittering sound, hovering behind you. He was dressed in a homespun tunic, with some tattered jacket around his shoulders, a blue bandana around his brows, and a T'au pulse carbine slung over his shoulder. He'd attached some kind of…stabbing device to the front with grayish adhesive wrapping, which contrasted fiercely with the dull orange-brown of the pulse gun. He was showing his teeth. That meant he was pleased to see you!
(You needed to remember that; it wasn't a threatening gesture for humans.)
His gums were…puffy.
"
Ma'am?" he asked, in Common Terran. Then, nervously, he tried his best in a proper language. "Uh…greetings…Shas'sa-'
"
O-Oh, no, no,".you said in Common Terran - and you saw him look shocked, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. "
I'm not Fire Caste. I am Por. Water Caste. We are diplomats and administrators." You smiled at him, showing teeth as he did. "
And you may call me S'wei. Are you, uh, here to escort me?"
He nodded. "
Yes, Ma'am. Er, uh, S'wei
. I'm Shedim Lan, Corporal, Kintar Auxiliaries." He gestured to an impossibly primitive looking skimmer. You were no tech-head like some of your siblings, but you'd heard enough nattering from your cousin, U'les, who had gone straight into Air Caste. You saw no sign of the engines that would let it get more than a few inches off the ground. And what were those absurd round emitters? Why did they have those big rubber edges, and why did they touch the ground? "
This is a Tauros command car, I'll be driving you in it. Please, take this seat."
You nodded, then walked to the seat, climbing with some difficulty through the web of steel that made up the rollbar. The sheer thickness metal shocked you, even on such a light vehicle; there were several inches of steel on the
sides. You found some buckles and strapped yourself in, having to pull the buckles quite a ways to tighten it. Of course, it was designed for human soldiers in bulky armour.
Shedim got into the driver's seat with an ease that made you forcibly aware of the fact he descended from arboreals. He didn't buckle himself in, but instead just twisted a kind of starter crank and whispered quietly.
"
Oh Machine Spirit, blessed be your combustion." He touched the hood. "
Blessed be the burning of your oils. Blessed be the holy promethium which drives you. To you, we give thanks, to you our praise. May the Emp, uh, may the Greater Good…" He touched several buttons - flicking each one reverently. One activated what seemed to be a rear view vid pickup. "
...protect and guide this vehicle. Amen."
You gaped at him. "Oh! Oh!" you exclaimed, then switched back to Common Terran. "
That was a Rite of Activation, was it?"
Shedim blushed. The sight of it was shocking, despite you having read so many textbooks about human biology.
"
Yes, ma'am," he said, then smiled, shyly. "
I know we're not supposed to. It's just how I was raised!"
"
Oh, no, no, the T'au Empire believes and practices in total religious freedom," you said, proudly. "
Please, continue to practice your rituals."
"
What do you mean, religious freedom mean?" he asked, his brow furrowing as he pushed down on a peddle…and to your shock, the skimmer did not lift even one inch. Instead, the side protrusions
spun and the entire vehicle lurched forward like a racing cart-beast. Your heart tried to crawl out of your throat as it hammered in your chest and you grabbed onto your straps as, behind you, Lem'ra hurriedly flew down to touch the back seat, squealing in alarm as she was bounced around.
"
It's not a skimmer!?" you exclaimed.
Shedim looked at you - taking his eyes
off the road, when he could slam into anything at any time because he was
on the ground - and laughed. "
Uh, no, ma'am. Skimmers are for nobility and such, they didn't leave much for us by the time we joined up."
Shedim continued to talk as you drove out of the shuttleport and through the refugee camp. And what he said…horrified you. "
By the Emperor. Uh, and the Greater Good, too, I mean. But just…this is such an improvement. Everyone has enough to eat. Maybe as much as we'd like, but we have enough. And the new purifiers can handle the Spatka River, so folks can drink enough. And we haven't been digging up near so many unexploded munitions in the camps themselves - only three people have died last week, that's incredible. And the hospital tents are beginning to empty out as folks get better, and those they can't are on to meet He Who Lives on Terra. It's really incredible what you've done!"
And as he spoke, you watched the tents. The dirty, filthy children. The shellshocked women and men, sitting on old crates and ammo boxes. The people dully eating
ration cartons. Rations cartons! The kind that you fed to an army on the march because they couldn't get anything better. You saw men walking with crutches, their legs blown away and nothing to replace them. You saw a woman with her face covered in papery
gauze rather than showing whatever was left of her face. She walked, blindly, with her hand being held by another woman who was likewise missing an arm.
This was incredible?
This…
This was a travesty!
You shook your head. "
I…I'm going to write to the Council about these conditions," you said.
"
Do tell them how well it's going," Shedim said, nodding cheerfully.
You drove out of the refugee camp and past a forest of cannon barrels, sticking out of wrecked chassis that the humans called
Chimeras. These were their mobile artillery platforms - but you didn't know the name. They had been pushed together into a junkyard, and even as you watched more of them were being towed in by a mix of tracked Imperial vehicles and Earth Caste movers. Endless barrels. Endless treads. Endless different kinds of damage. They blurred together as you watched and drove and Shedim continued talking.
"
And here's the bridge," he said, and you blinked. If he hadn't said so, you wouldn't have been able to tell - it was so vast, so broad. Each column looked like a skyscraper all to themselves, but the massive craters dug into the sides showed it was
solid, all the way through. There were signs of recent repair - but less than you'd have expected. You didn't know much about military tactics, but…bridges would be targets, right?
Well, if the T'au had tried to take this bridge, they obviously hadn't hit it very hard. Either that or…
Or it's a very well made bridge! You thought.
Then you came to a set of tents. A flag flapped over it with crude blue attachments. It was a green and white flag, with black lettering on it spelling out
217th. The Cadian regiment, with their auxiliary status marked crudely, but clearly. Shedim parked, then frowned. His voice was quiet. "
I know you're, uh, an Administratum…so, you may not know, but…" He paused. "
Some of these Rubbleheads don't really like that they surrendered."
"
Rubbleheads?" You asked.
"
You know, Cadians," he said, frowning as he looked past you at several of the Cadians in question. They were sitting around a barrel that had been turned into a makeshift table, playing one of the many charming human games of chance; they were unshaven, hollow-cheeked, their eyes sunken into dark sockets. You noticed how often they coughed.
You frowned. "
Is that an ethnic slur?" you asked, severely. "
...referring to their destroyed homeworld of all things!?"
"W-Well, uh…no! I…" Shedim blushed, again. Harder this time. "
Maybe."
You unbuckled yourself. "
The T'au Empire is not a place for that kind of thing," you said. "
We're all together in the Greater Good."
He nodded, then made a sign of the aquila as two Cadian men walked over, hurriedly, with a Fire Warrior walking with them. The Cadian men came to attention as your hooves hit the ground and you almost fell over yourself, still half-tangled in the safety belts. You nodded to the two men. "
Greetings," you said. "
I am Por'Saal T'au S'wei."
"
Ma'am," the older of the two Cadian men said. "
I am Captain Kohl. This is Lieutenant Munroe."
The other Cadian nodded. "
Ma'am."
"
This is our liaison to the T'au forces," Captain Kohl said. "
Shas'Saal Va'an."
"Honorable Por'Saal," the young Fire Warrior said, inclining his head. You weren't sure if the two Cadians knew how young their liaison was. How low ranked. You hoped not - but you were getting a mite annoyed at that for them.
"
The first thing we need to get squared away is some basic administrative details, then you can be taken to Sergeant Nevic," Captain Kohl said, gesturing you forward. "
Uh, are you aware of the…role she played in our… standing down?"
You nodded.
She…
—
First vote! In the actual novel, hereafter known as the IMPERIAL PROPAGANDA DRECK, poor Darya was forced by the evil author into switching back to the imperial side in complete defiance of her entire character arc and motivations, becoming a hollow paper cutout whose interiority is crushed in favour of ten pages of stupid action and a Commissar actually saying the fucking line "The tau do not have a monopoly on the Greater Good". LIKE?!?!?
But in this, what actually happened,
she…
[ ] She snuck into the camp using her skills as an infiltrator, confronting a suicidal Captain Kohl who was preparing a final charge into the guns to avoid starvation. She told him of the conditions of refugees on the other side of the river, lying about the resources the T'au had available to convince the half-starved man to surrender the regiment. She was too late to stop it entirely; the first wave, led by Commissar Tsutso, had already gone out with bayonets fixed, and none came back.
[ ] Shot Commissar Tsutso with a sniper rifle, leading to a popular uprising that Captain Kohl joined in the heat of the moment; the Cadians were starving as they were cut off from supply due to the defection of the Kintar Rifles. The regiment erupted into a minor civil war, and the victors fought off a group of Imperial Knights attempting to punish their desertion. When it was over, she approached them with an offer, and they stepped aside for T'au forces.
[ ] The Cadians were encircled and they T'au started starving them out. Sergeant Nevic agreed to appear in a propaganda piece for the T'au that was broadcast to the Cadians, describing her good treatment at their hands, the medical treatments available, and the promise of food, begging them to lay down their arms. The video not only got them to surrender, it was rebroadcast all over the theater and caused panic, desertion, and defection en masse; she is the face of the Tau Empire now for humans on the planet
