Chapter 91:

hapter 91: Fears serve as the curtains to different secrets.




The Empire of Ten Million Suns is both our people's home and a geographical area in the Great Wheel.

The Empire has borders, a local climate as much as that applies to galactic stretches of space, and over the course of millions of years it has been made perfectly comfortable to Eldar life at every single point it can be made comfortable at.

The worlds we inhabit mostly have the same day-night cycle, the temperatures to the worlds that care for them are at the edges of what we find comfortable or challenging without immediately dying in. Even the most dangerous worlds in the Empire, places that others would call Death Worlds are made so in ways we find survivable or enjoyable and the vast, vast majority of non-eldar life in the Empire are things we find pleasant or useful in some way to us.

The few that aren't so are the single most tenacious and obscenely adaptive life forms in the galaxy, and are creatures of such adaptability and skill that if transplanted in any other environment would quickly dominate it in generations due to the sheer level of skill and adaptability living near eldar when they don't want you to be there requires.

That being said and despite our people's attempts at making our Empire the ideal place to live in for any Eldar, many choose to leave it and pursue their own interests and it is not only the Exodites or Craftworlders. Independent Princedoms, fleets, clans, republics and more founded by Eldar that for one reason or another have found the Empire to not be ideal for them dot the Great Wheel in their hundreds of thousands.

The current generation of Craftworlders left the Empire recently according to their estimation, some left it before things seemed to slowly crumble around them, some did so without even noticing as the souls of fallen craftworlds rebuild their homes to try their lifestyle again and others are still building them for the first time as they try to emulate what they see as an interesting lifestyle as the Empire of Ten Million Suns slowly crumbles and some have truly been gone since the first trade princes left the empire decrying it as indolent, but even they are not the oldest cultures outside of the Empire.

That 'honor' is reserved to the Haven Spire Citadels, the oldest of which have even had Gods dance in their halls.

Haven Spires are the closest thing our people still have to the 'prefabs' of other species. They are Ancient Listening and Merchant posts left around the Galaxy for military fleets to use as geographical landmarks and for merchants as logistics hubs and the one I am in? This creature is among the oldest of them and on the tip of my tongue the scent of Divinity and Royalty still lingers.

The Distant Maiden of Opportunity was once graced with the presence of Royalty who once danced and sang with Divinity and Heroes, and even now, more than six million years since echoes of it can still be felt by those specially attuned to such things. Unfortunately, I am not here to find out more about that event so many years ago even if it would have been grand no doubt and something that those that have seen it would have never forgot assuming they survived it.

I am here for a much simpler reason, information gathering.

"Here holy one, this bar is where Camaus Silverblade usually rests in outside his shifts." My guide said as he pointed towards the bar in question.

He was an older looking eldar man with dark hair and blue eyes and the strangest thing an eldar could have on its skin, wrinkles, and now served as my guide on this space station.

'The Hawkish Maiden' was one bar among many with little to tell it apart from the others, but it appears to be where a local information broker of good repute frequents.

"Is there any reason this Camaus Siverblade should have a clue as to the information I seek Rinceor Geallai? The others didn't or were dead when we got to them." I asked.

Rinceor Geallai was the latest of the band of misfits my Younger Sister keeps gathering in her service for after I am gone and in the last three years the number has reached twenty-eight. The old man has been traveling through the Tunnels of the Webway for five thousand years now and has joined my sister's crew because we promised him a bed only to himself and that he won't have to worry for food while serving us.

The food synthesizers continue to pay dividends far beyond what I expected as knowledge of how to make anything like them is almost unheard of outside of the Empire or even on its periphery.

I am incredibly proud of my sister's work with them and how she turned strangers into somewhat useful individuals and how easy a time she has turning the Webway Wanderers into a cohesive group and I am glad to see her advance like this in her duties. Now if only I had such ease in my own.

"He is known among the Wanderers as a respectable and somewhat dangerous man that charges little for his services and while his information lacks depth compared to others, he charges little for them and is willing to send you to others that are more capable of providing specific information. He himself might not have the information but he is trained, a part of the local princes Guardian forces and unlikely to be assassinated, and if he has been killed in the current troubles then surely he would have left behind clues and witnesses we can use or even a vengeful prince that can help us in our search." The old man said.

I nodded at that and followed him inside the establishment.

So, a well connected man that can provide general information and is connected and well-liked enough to introduce you to others for an affordable price.

I haven't even met the man and yet he stinks of being someone's tool, and considering that he is in service of the local Station-Prince then it might mean he is his tool and if so he is either protected or cared for enough to not be assassinated without thought or a proper plan.

"Do you see him?" I asked.

The establishment was mostly empty, as it filled to one tenth compared to what it could hold comfortably.

"No, but that means little. The man is a guardian and they change schedules and don't like telling outsiders where others of their occupation are. Let's go to one of the tables, surely the staff knows if he's still here or not."

I remained silent and joined him at one of the tables close to the entrance.

The bar was entirely unremarkable, just one more bar with little to set it aside from all the others in a Heaven's Spire. Pretty lights, tasteful if rather barren décor and a somber song. Even the chairs felt exactly like the same chairs I've stood on in other space stations which was quite disturbing to Eldar sensibilities.

You don't get this similarity except through industrial processes meant for maximum industrial efficiency, but we have not bothered with such for longer than the language we're using has been spoken.

"What can you tell me of this station?" I asked.

We came here part due to my instincts guiding me here and him saying that this is the only station in the area with a somewhat known information broker to help us in my mission. The local ship-eldar clans know that I am here and looking for them thanks to whatever seers of equivalent they have, even if they can't see that I mean them well and so they hide.

All of my searches were met with a lack of clues and dead information brokers or missing ones in a string of incidents that beggared belief with how unlikely they were.

At first my Younger Sister and Navigator thought I was imagining things and that we were simply in the wrong area, and then it continued. An area of one thousand light years does not suddenly become empty of information brokers and has its information brokerage system destabilized to such an extent just before I reach it. One or two cases could be explained as coincidence.

One hundred and thirty four can't.

"Not much to talk about to be honest, the only notable thing about this station as far as the Wanderers are concerned is its money system and the man we wish to meet and of the two the man is the more interesting of the two, at least to you."

I felt that he did not feel the same and so I did the only thing such a statement demands.

"I wouldn't mind hearing more of the former if you wouldn't mind." I asked softly much to his surprise.

He then proceeded to explain to me the financial system on this station and all of its nonsense.

They use a type of special crystal with the interesting property that it only allows red light at a very specific frequency to pass through it as money with its value being determined by its size and the smaller they are the more valuable because if you cut bigger crystals in smaller pieces they lose their properties and bigger ones are easier and faster to make.

Apparently the system was here for as long as the station has been around and the local forge the only one that knows the exact recipe to get the shape and exact size to get the needed effect.

He got really excited talking about it, which made me smile. Our people getting excited by specific topics is how knowledge grows and while I care little for the intricate trade network these little crystals created around the station and how its tendrils spread in the surrounding settlements, I could feel that this mattered a lot to my guide.

"You are quite interested in how currency works friend, no don't be ashamed of it, I find it quite endearing to see our people so animated on a given topic. My sister Laciena also has a great interest in finance, albeit hers is centered more around keeping such systems stable as opposed to how the currency works."

The old man blushed brightly at that and I could feel his embarrassment.

"You don't see it as strange? I was mocked many times by other imperials for my strange focus on money."

I laughed at that.

"No, albeit I could see how others would be dismissive of it and I personally don't care much about it, but I do like seeing our people animated about knowledge and eager to share it. Besides, your knowledge on this topic is useful to us here so to mock it would be quite foolish."

It was true, I never cared much for physical showcases of wealth, as I never used them in the Empire and I could just make or acquire that which others would need to use such for. For me wealth is knowledge and what you can do with it, not some pretty gems and abstract concepts such as paper holding some sort of inherent value because you made the right scribbles or put the right stamps on it.

But if our people wish to bother with it, who am I to tell them otherwise?

My guide has the necessary crystals to pay for our beverages and to ask some questions of this part-time information broker and that's quite frankly all I need. I might try my hand and my mind at finance in this life too or the next one if I'll have the time, but for now I just don't have the time or interest in doing so.

The song shifted, it seems that the bartender noticed us and is now heading towards us.

The woman was pretty to my eyes, just like most other Eldar women. She had blue eyes, red hair and little defining physical features except her shortness as she stood at one meter and a half tall, which for Eldar was extremely short.

"I'll never get used to the clothes." My guide murmured.

I don't see what's wrong myself, she has a conservative dress that covers her knees, wears slippers and her upper body is only covered by two skeletal hands of Eldar origin that held her very large breasts in position signaling that she is married and her husband will turn your skeleton into clothing if you dare touch what's his just like he did to those whose hands I'm looking at.

It's perfectly normal clothing on the periphery and my concubines would be wearing something similar when relaxing on their home world.

"I would be making my concubines something similar if fools got too handsy where I can see them." I admitted without shame.

The man, like most of those born outside of the Empire shuddered and while I could understand why it still felt sad to see it. Women do something similar among themselves too, but unlike men they don't demand us wear a physical reminder of the deed.

Most Eldar men and women like to mingle in more ways than one and are quite bold, especially as it takes a lot more than a single night of passion to get properly pregnant, even assuming fertilization is achieved.

In the Song Worlds this created a rather playful culture where it is actively encouraged to keep you spouse extremely satisfied lest they find that satisfaction somewhere else and you find your children having multiple fathers while they too fathered multiple children. Some worlds even make a contest or several out of it.

In the periphery however, the men settled on just killing those going after their wives and turning them into clothing for their spouses much to their amusement and the women decided to just enslave the harlots hunting for their husbands and making sure they learn to serve them first and then their husbands, assuming they survive the acquisition process and the breaking in that is.

Most don't, but that only excites them to try harder the next time and in my opinion the periphery got it right on this. On most other things they're just crazy but on this one? I can understand why they're doing it and will do the same if pressed.

"What can I get you honored customer and Rinceor Geallai?" The red-headed woman asked.

"Silla Wine for both of us, also could you tell us when Camaus Silverblade will be off his shift? My new employer's brother, Bessar Agail, wishes to ask him some questions." My guide answered.

I could feel her song of mischief turn into a song of bitter mourning before her face did, it seems that this man was dead too.

"He… died… it was just confirmed a few hours ago as the Guardians broke through the blocks to his door and after they disabled his home defenses. Lasbolt to the face and he did not even have the time to be surprised by it."

I sighed at this.

"Same as the others." I muttered.

The woman looked surprised at this.

"Others?"

"Yes I am here in search of what you could say are distant family and in my search I keep finding dead information brokers and the like and it has been happening with such a frequency that this is the one hundred and thirty fifth such case in two years. It's not normal and so I am also trying to find out what is going on there as well, partially in worry for my distant kin and partially to find out who is killing so many of our people." I revealed.

It was true in a sense, I am a part-time ship after all and when I am a ship I can call myself kin to them and if my search and the deaths weren't connected I'll eat my sails.

"There's a few individuals willing to know more, would you be willing to combine your efforts on this case? The prince is unwilling to bother if rumors are to be believed."

That surprised me, a prince not investigating one of his hired blades' death? This meant only two things, either the man had angered him greatly before his death or… the prince knew he was still alive and merely left his service.

"If you would be so kind to introduce us to these individuals I would be most eager to share notes, especially if you could also tell me how to get an audience with the prince. Even if he does not wish to involve himself in such, I would still like to talk to him" I replied genially.

Finally, a proper lead to the ship-eldar clans.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I remember.

I remember Lileath, so many years and lives ago I cannot recall the location or even my own name back then, but I remember our sister. I remember her dances of whimsy, I remember how she danced among us, how everything used to be easy to make sense of.

I remember a world of nothing but dance and whimsy, I remember what it was like to never know strife, to never know fear or need and I wish to forget the torturous emotions such a life now evokes in me. I do not miss that life, despite what my descendants may think, I do not miss the songs, the vibrancy and everything that we could be and are being at my fingertips, for it was an empty life.

I remember how it felt to be nothing but fulfilled and I despise it, for it had grown stale. I grew bored of it and thus abandoned it trying to find something else worth doing.

Strife, death, loss, fear, despair are bitter pills that can bring down even the most stalwart warriors and yet when drowned among all of them each success shines brighter. I have felt more joy at one of my children becoming an adult after five failures than I can remember feeling in multiple past lives combined.

Bliss is not Joy, this I have learned after too many lives, for bliss is a state of being, while Joy is an achievement and if nothing else will remain of me in this life then I wish for this lesson to be etched into the soul of all of my descendants.

"We must find a purpose, something greater than our shells and our lives." I repeated again as I did at every single clan gathering.

I could feel my descendants nod as we dreamed as one. There were some new faces, future husbands and wives, assets deemed more useful to exfiltrate from their assignments than cut off for good and two new shining lights that weren't there before that could only be newborn children whose minds were Awakened.

All of them appeared as eldar with soft features and white hair here, the only significant difference being in their sizes and facial features and gender.

Some nodded as if they could understand my words, some only out of politeness and others because their heads were empty and they could do nothing else when they heard me speak.

"Yes clan-mother." The 'elders' sang as one.

As always I found the entire thing amusing, because to call elders people that have lived for less than one hundred thousand years would feel strange for those who have lived in the Song Worlds.

In the periphery and the wider galaxy, 6000 years was considered old and 10.000 Ancient and yet I have met individuals who had fought in this life in the War in Heaven, the first one that is. Age is a funny concept when you are immortal and depending on what type of immortality you've chosen it becomes even more so.

"A pity none of you can understand what my words mean yet." I sighed in faux-frustration.

My descendants are fools the lot of them, every single one of them are my lovable fools and they are mine to look after. The little shits even dared to laugh at my comment which had become routine.

Around me thousands of lights gathered in our common dream, some were of similar size to me, others if they were to stand near me would barely reach my knees and the most of them, the children and outsiders invited into the clan were but sprites not even the size of my fingers and all of them were just as foolish regardless of their size.

The dream changed from the empty dark void into something else with a flex of my will. We were not looking at a blank void anymore but at the Void in all its visual glory and darkness and endless lights whose beauty has brought too many species to tears of joy and despair. We were not here to look upon that beauty now, for we could do it awake, we were looking at the only memory one of our own has of the ship of the creature that has been looking for us.

The ship of Bessar Agail the 'Sharp and Valorous' named after himself.

It wasn't an ugly hull by any means but it did not feel like most Eldar ships I have seen in this life, albeit it did remind me of the Murderships of Khaine somewhat. Eldar ships on the periphery and outside of the empire are lithe things built for Alpha strikes and swift passes and occasionally long range duels and skirmishes but this creature was none of that.

It wasn't long and spindly but wide, so wide that it could hold the prow or spinal weapons of other ships as broadsides, and had more of them even. It had exactly eight pulsar cannons, four on each side, where most ships its size would have two of them in total at most.

It's armament was obvious to all that could see it and except the obscene numbers of them, pulsars and torpedoes were normal here, what wasn't normal was its spinal cannon.

"Do we know what the spinal weapon is?" My oldest living son, Great Leaper asked.

He was our most experienced warrior and the one most obsessed with finding the weaknesses of this ship and taking its strength for ourselves.

Its strange ability to come out of the Webway at will was something worrying yes, but it only made it's great mobility even greater and could be worked around if our attempts at divining the future proved to be correct. It's pulsars were mighty, but ultimately a known variable and its torpedoes something we've learned to handle and are in limited supply.

The only things we had issues with were the shields which required ten of ours to continuously fire on before they broke and its spinal cannon which I have dreamed it being able to kill me in one shot one too many times to look down on, despite it using some form of physical projectile.

"Yes, shurikens." One of my daughters daughter, Fiochar, said.

She was the one that managed to get close to the creature and actually talked to one of its subordinates, his sister and owner of the ship if our data gathering was accurate.

"How?" I asked sternly and quelled the doubts of all those gathered.

The girl was far too reckless and getting her through a circuitous route back to the clan to make sure she wasn't followed was a pain, but she, like every single one of us, was dedicated to the family and she took a lot of risks to get this information back to us.

Too many risks in my opinion but it seems to have paid off if she is correct.

Shurikens are an infantry weapon, something that can fire fast yes, but the projectiles are too small to harm us normally and the things hitting us are not that large that a shuriken becomes an actual viable threat.

The young child came in front of us and was followed by her future husband who was not willing to let her leave his sight alone.

'How cute.' was what many thought upon seeing that.

"Speed, each Shuriken leaves its barrel at close to light-speed, each of them hitting at the strength of a Shadow Lance, but it doesn't hit just once, but thousands of times at once as each projectile is timed to hit the same general area of a ship at the same time." She explained.

She showed us the calculations involved in this as the exact figure of how hard they hit was all the information she managed to get before we pulled her out of the port by force for her recklessness.

Thousand of shots that can each hit at the same time, this combined with their known speed extrapolated from our future sight told me a single thing. We can't replicate it, not yet at the very least. We are familiar with magnetically or gravitationally accelerated objects, some have even experimented with combining the technologies with torpedo tubes to increase their speed and range even further, but using the technology for physical objects never came up for a simple reason.

It's not worth it.

To accelerate objects to hit with a useful amount of power you need a lot of power and a lot of space to store the ammo. You can get a similar effect with energy weapons for less energy and less space occupied but it seems that Bessar Agail proved us wrong.

The math did check out at the very least and it explained the four sails the Sharp and Valorous had. Based on our calculations the energy output of three sails is needed to fire this... Heavy Shuriken Cannon once and unless the man has managed to develop some sort of special material for its barrel then it would also explain the slow rate of fire.

The weapon needs to repair itself after each firing sequence which tells us that they have a very skilled bonesinger to repair such a delicate and powerful weapon so fast.

"Is he like us?" Great Leaper asked much to the confusion of everyone else gathered.

"He was seen walking in various ports and Bessar Agail's name is an obvious match to the ship itself. I doubt there are two individuals with the same name prowling the stars at the same time and with the same goal." I countered.

"A false body, similar to the vat-copies but using some form of unknown technology to get around the normal limitations of using such."

"Are you implying we have been running scared from a madman that wishes to join the clan?" One of my nieces, Silent Blade asked outraged.

"No, only that the nature of the thing hunting us may not be as obvious as we first assumed and it would explain the strange mix of weapons and unseen before ship configuration. All of us have experimented with such before deciding to keep the standard hull configuration to better camouflage among other eldar." Great Leaper answered calmly.

"The configuration is not unseen my son, it is a mix of two well established design philosophies." I remarked.

"What design philosophies Matriarch?" My most martially inclined son asked.

"Standard Craftworlder designs and Khaine Murderships." I said.

I didn't need to show them Craftworlder designs, all of them knew them well, instead it was time for my clan to learn of the Murderships of Khaine.

The dream changed and the Sharp and Valorous disappeared and was replaced with the only memory I held of the Murderships of Khaine from all of my lives. It was a small ship all things considered, for it was slightly smaller than most newly ascended adults of my clan and the ship itself had only one unassuming quality, it's size.

The memory was of one of my past lives on a small colony attacked by a small Mon'keigh patrol.

There were five frigate ships destroying the young colony and delighting in its torment until a single Murdership of Khaine came.

The only familiar part of the design were the two sails that looked more like the guard of a very sharp red and black blade.

My descendants saw what I saw then, and they saw the sharp angles of a small ship which bore no weapons on it, for the ship itself was a weapon and it crackled with red lightning as it dove into each enemy ship without restrain or fear and smashed and cut them down as it ignored all of their psychic abilities, weapon's fire and even shields as it plowed through them all with savage delight and murderous bellows that drove us to a Murderous Frenzy as we turned from fearful civilians into berserkers and we charged the falling ships in search of survivors to Murder.

It's screams of Murder echoed through my soul and drove me to madness and murder.

I remember my screams as I died to their strange Impalers and could feel my very Soul drain and I remember how the ship smashed into the world with the fury of Khaine to destroy the Blasphemous Murderous Technology and save my soul from Nothingness.

I remember it, my life, my anger, my charge and my death as well as the screams of the Murderships and that of the Mon'keigh and now my descendants will remember it too, for they see the same sharp lines on this ship as on the Sharp and Valorous and those are only held by the Murderships of Khaine.

There is a reason I am running, why the moment I saw my own death at the hand of the strange ship I decided I would rather flee. I do not care for or fear my death, I have lived and will live again, but those ships… they scare me. And now they scare my clan too.

If there were any that still doubted my decision to run then they no longer doubt it now, because that ship was but a small frigate and the Sharp and Valorous is a Dragonship and it is far better armed.

AN:

Rinceor Geallai→ Rinceoir na Gealaí = Moon Dancer