Disclaimer: I own neither Warhammer 40.000 or Star Wars. Rather Obviously.
The Craftworld harmonically coasted through space on its sails, the immense bulk of the vessel shining brightly against the darkness of the void.
A continent of gleaming spires and great domes, bridges and docks and Webway gates. Sails stretching for thousands of kilometers. Fleets of wraithships, from destroyers and frigates to battleships circled the Craftworld, as trade ships and civilian vessels sped through the void of space.
Laeran looked outside the viewport, his niece, Elamae at his side. His sister's child, Laeran had raised her after her death and the departure of the child's father, as if the child was his own. He'd only hoped he had done that well enough. His niece was an intelligent and talented, if serious child.
Not for long, however. Laeran mused. In a few passes' time, she would be an adult, and choose her first Path. In fact, it would be a good question to ask her. Elamae seemed to be occupied observing the passing ships.
"Elamae" he spoke calmly. His niece turned around. "You will not be a child forever. There will come a time for you to choose a Path; hopefully the first of many. Out of all the Paths of our people, which one would you choose to follow?"
Elamae sat in contemplation, stroking her chin with her hand. "I do not know yet. Mother was a Seer, but I don't know if I want to follow in her footsteps."
"Your mother was a Mariner before she was a Seer, and an Artist before that.
His niece looked at him inquisitively. "I know that already uncle, what are you trying to tell me?"
Laeran sighed. "What I am trying to tell you is that the Paths we choose to walk in life are a necessity, but they are not the entirety of our being. We learn from our experiences there, and move on."
"Perhaps you are right, uncle." He noticed the uncertainty in Elamae's voice, but decided not to press the issue further.
"Now, Elamae, I think the traders may have brought some things that would interest you. I don't suppose my exalted and most wise niece would mind examining their wares?"
His niece's smile was enough answer for him.
...
"Now we take our seats as equals, members of the Seer Council." Eldrad Ulthran declared, as he did at the beginning of every gathering of the Seer Council. Even at his venerable age, he still actively took part in the leadership of the Craftworld, both at home and on campaigns.
Eltherion observed the other Farseers – his brethren, strange as the thought might have seemed not so long ago.
The Staff of Ulthamar at his side, and wearing his rune armour, Eldrad himself was seated at the head of the table, a seat reserved for the most senior Farseer. A legend in his own lifetime, and Ulthwe's greatest Seer, most of the members of the Seer Council attending had been influenced by his teachings, directly or indirectly.
At Eldrad's right, dressed in black, white and gold was a woman with silver hair tied in a topknot, and the sigil of Ulthwe tattooed on her face. Farseer Caerys, one of Eldrad's disciples. Eltherion did not know her personally, though he had heard of her involvement in several campaigns against the forces of Chaos.
Next to her was Calendril, the scarred, hairless Seer with his Gyrinx familiar. He preferred white or grey clothing, decorated with black runes. One of the older members of the Council, and an experienced commander who had accompanied Ulthwe's fleet against an Ork Waagh attacking an Exodite world.
Seated next to Eltherion, and dressed in Ulthwe's traditional heraldry was another Farseer he was more familiar with. Taldeer the Dreamer, another experienced member of the Council, and entrusted with the location of several Tomb Worlds of the Necrontyr. Eltherion however knew her as one of those who had helped him during his training as a Seer. They still maintained a friendly relationship due to that.
There were of course other members of the Council who were not attending in person. Like Orokin, or Irrilim, Idranel and others.
And of there were those who had passed on, their seats now held by others. Many had joined their brethren in the Dome of Crystal Seers. Others had fallen in battle, their spirit stones now part of the Infinity Circuit.
The council went into a meditative stance. Eltherion let his body free, as he observed the universe through his mind's eye. When he had first done so, at the time he walked the first steps of his path it had been an experience equally terrifying and awe-inspiring. Now it was like breathing, hearing or smelling. Eltherion guided his spirit through the Craftworld, as he could see and feel the echo the thoughts and emotions of the Eldar within left in the Warp.
He recalled the answers of the runes as he cast them, his own inquiries and search, the results of his meditations. Eltherion shared them all with the Council, as they did. At the same time he imparted his visions, he would see theirs play out in front of his eyes.
Some strands ran differently, but all had the same conclusion. A storm approaching the Craftworld, and then nothing. The visions all ended in the same way. And so, Eltherion waited in silence.
They sit in silence as well. They do not know. And neither do I.
This perhaps terrified him most of all. When a Seer, even a Farseer saw an unclear vision or fate, other Seers would be there to give advice, or share their own visions.
But the greatest of us have gathered here, and we all know nothing.
Caerys was the first to speak up. "Isha's tears.."
Eltherion broke his meditation, and returned to his body. He heard Calendril's raspy voice. "That vision..A storm, then nothingness. If the Craftworld were to be destroyed, we would see it. Ulthwe in flames, our people dead, the vision would reveal it."
"But this is stranger." Taldeer said. Eltherion could see the tension in the chamber; even Eldrad stood in silence.
"Perhaps this does not mean destruction, as we might be led to think." she continued.
"Are you willing to gamble the lives of everyone living in Ulthwe on that chance?" Calendril retorted.
Eltherion tried to end any chance at an argument before it would begin. "No. I am certain that Farseer Taldeer does not want to risk our lives on unclear portents." he said before Taldeer could respond to Calendril. "But we have to make our choices. Doom is approaching, and fate unravels." he said. "It is our choices that will decide this, we need to act, not argue!"
Taldeer nodded in approval. Calendril seemed to agree as well. "Very well, Eltherion. What do you propose that we do, then?" Caerys said.
Eltherion thought. Thinking of potential solutions, but finding that he had no good advice to offer. The other members of the Seer Council seemed to wait for an answer, except Eldrad, who still had not stirred.
Has he even broken his meditation? Perhaps he is searching for an answer?
Eltherion hoped it was the latter.
"We should summon the Exarchs and Autarchs." proposed Calendril. "If our divinations cannot help us, then advice from others might." It wasn't an idea without merit.
"Perhaps organizing an evacuation might be in order. If this storm strike us, we must save all the lives we can." said Taldeer. Another good idea, thought Eltherion, though he was not sure where to flee to. However, he felt a thrumming at the back of his head, as if a noise repeated over and over, preventing him from concentrating.
Caerys seemed to agree with both proposals. "The other Craftworlds may be willing to help if we contact them. Or the Exodite worlds."
Eltherion could feel the thrumming noise get stronger, more intense. Were the others feeling it?
Suddenly, he heard Eldrad Ulthran's voice. He only said two words. "No time."
Then he started feeling the Craftworld itself rock. He stood up from his seat, and looked outside at the viewports of the Spire of Seers. A rift in the materium, opened next to the Craftworld itself. The Seer Council was stunned.
The storm was pulling the Craftworld and all the surrounding ships inside. The chamber rocked as they drew ever closer to the Eye of the Storm.
Eltherion closed his eyes as he saw the storm slowly engulf the Craftworld, as he and the other Farseers pronounced the only prayer they had left.
Shea nudh Asuryanish ereintha Asuryanat
...
Darkness was all that Elamae could see. The Craftworld swayed and rocked as warning alarms blared. Her uncle tried to shield herbefore she lost sight of him, but she knew what was happening. Her home would be destroyed, and she would die. She was terrified.
Was that how mother felt before she died? Elamae wondered. She still remembered, hearing the news. Her mother died fighting.
She was brave. I must be brave too.
She bit her lip, to stop her shivering. If she were to die, she'd face doom with dignity. That is what she had been told.
However, she was still alive, and so were the others beside her, their presence could be felt and heard. Soon, light was restored. Everyone was still there.
Silence.
They were still alive. Whatever happened, they had survived. "Elamae." she heard her uncle's voice. She swept up to him and embraced him tightly, tears in her eyes.
"We're alive. Don't worry, we're alive." Laeran whispered.
...
Captain Mon Halan of the Republic cruiser Defiant felt exhausted. The Defiant, along with a group of the few other warships that had made it through Taris were limping back towards the more secure sectors of Republic space.
Admiral Veltraa had been killed over Taris, leaving the Mon Calamari officer to lead what remained of his battlegroup to retreat. Ten Hammerheads, four of them too beat up to put up a fight, about twenty damaged Forays, several squadrons of fighters and a motley collection of civilian ships that the Mandos hadn't blown out of the sky.
So much for holding the line. Halan thought. They had to rethink the situation. The Mandos won't be intimidated into submission by posturing lines of ships. The bastards broke through the Navy battlegroups near Taris like they were nothing.
He heard the clanking of boots behind him. "Sir." he saw his second-in-command, Lieutenant Kaalnar Shinn, salute him. "Permission to speak, Captain?" the human from Corulag said.
"Granted, Lieutenant. Unless you intend to urge me to return to Taris and lead us to the Mandalorian guns, of course."
Halan looked at the human blush at the reminder of his foolish suggestion to fight to the death. Too much pride and patriotism, not enough brains.
"No, sir. But we will be exiting hyperspace soon enough. Will we retreat to the nearest safe planet? Or will we try to contact the Republic?"
Mon Halan sat in thought. "First, we take account of our losses, and assess the situation. Then, we try to contact the Republic, let them know that we have survived. After that, we will await further orders."
"Yes, sir." the lieutenant saluted again and left. Halan turned to the helmsmen.
"When will we be exiting hyperspace?" he requested firmly,
"Two minutes, Captain."
Good. Hopefully the Mandalorians were not pursuing. If they were, he hoped that they didn't send significant forces.
"One minute."
Halan waited, counting the seconds as he looked out of the bridge's viewport.
"We are exiting hyperspace now, Captain."
The ship decelerated to real-space, as did the rest of the flotilla at varying speeds. Mon Halan heard the panicked voices of the helmsmen.
"Captain, our sensors are picking up several large objects!"
Mandos? Now? By the stars, we aren't ready for this!
He felt his body stiffen up, as if standing at attention. "Mandos?" the captain felt the need to ask for clarification before ordering them to ready their weapons.
"Negative, sir. But they seem to be starships. Not ours, either."
This was officially Republic space, though this part was uninhabited. What could they be, Mon wondered.
"Close in. Get them on screen." he ordered. The bridge crew followed his orders. The holoscreen was turned on. It showed several objects, ranging from the size of fighters, to several kilometers long. And the largest..
"By the Force." several crewmen exclaimed. The largest object was the size of a continent, or a small moon.
How could anything so big possibly be constructed?
The smaller starships seemed to form up, as if to defend the larger ship. And they all looked so strange, unlike any ships Mon Halan had seen before. Sleek, with no hard angles. Wings, possibly sails of many shapes and sizes, and the majority of them were coloured black and white.
Solar sails were used frequently, though they were a feature of starship design often considered antiquated these days. But these did not seem to match with any known design, like the ships they were attached to.
Lieutenant Shinn was next to him, looking equally astounded. "Orders, Captain?" he asked expectantly.
Captain Halan took a deep breath. "Try to communicate with them. If they seem to be preparing to fire at us, then we retreat ASAP. Understood, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, Captain!"
Here's hoping we get out of this alive.
...
The Warp was..strange, strange than the Farseer had ever felt it. It seemed calm, calmer than he had ever felt it before, even when he meditated at the deepest reaches of the Craftworld, undisturbed by any others, or when walking in the verdant Maiden Worlds of his ancient kin.
Even there, the turbulence of the Warp could be felt. And along with it, the eye of She-who-Thirsts. In his home of Ulthwé, orbiting the warpstorm that the humans called the Eye of Terror, where the material and spiritual realms spilled into each other, the Warp was in a state of constant turmoil.
Focus, Eltherion. There will be time for contemplation later.
It had not been long since the storm that engulfed the Craftworld had led them to this place. Even now, reports were flooding in. No one had been harmed, fortunately enough. But there was something more important. The Webway gates were not functional, and all attempts by the Wayseers to repair them had ended in failure. According to them, it was as if the Webway was no longer there.
And now, the appearance of starships had been reported as well. They emerged suddenly, and they were few in number. This riddle seems to be getting more complicated as time goes on. The Farseer thought.
The Seer Council had already been gathered when they appeared. Now, the new issue was what to do with them.
"They do not resemble the primitive vessels of the mon-keigh, or those of them that are corrupted by the Ruinous Powers. Neither are they the crude ships of the barbaric Orks, or any other race's that I have encountered." said Calendril.
Caerys was quick to argue. "Destroy them. They must not learn of our presence here in our weakened state."
"In normal circumstances, I would concur." Calendril answered. "But my experience tells me that we must first try to establish contact, then make our decision. They seem damaged, and they are few in number. If they decide to attack, or we make the choice to eradicate them, the odds are in our favour."
"I agree with Farseer Calendril." Eltherion declared. "They may carry information that is useful to us." he did not voice his concern with the idea of immediate aggression against the 'lesser species' however.
Eldrad Ulthran raised his voice. "They try to communicate with us at this very moment. Their message has not reached us yet, but their intents are not hostile." he said. "As the most senior member of this Council, I would recommend that we answer back." Eldrad continued with a hint of a smile crossing his features.
True enough, the psychically-based communication systems returned a transmission. First recited in an unknown language, different from the Low Gothic commonly used by humans, then translated to the language of the Eldar.
"Unidentified vessels, this is Captain Mon Halan of the Galactic Republic Navy." It then seemed to pause for a moment. "We come peacefully. We do not have hostile intentions towards your race."
...
Mon Halan had never felt so anxious, even in battle. Battle at the very least was something he was trained for, but he was no diplomat. He didn't know how to conduct a first contact situation with unknown species. And of course, he neglected to mention that this area of space technically belonged to the Republic. Some stakes over territory that did not even register as 'minor' were best left temporarily forgotten if one were to find a fleet of massive, unknown starships in that area of space.
He stood on the bridge, waiting after the transmission was sent. Perhaps this species' technology was not compatible with that most of the galaxy used, as unlikely as that was. Then, he turned around, only to see a group of humanoid creatures. He could see that the rest of the bridge crew turned around as well, some pressing their hands close to their sidearms.
A group of at least fifteen aliens was standing on his bridge, having seemingly appeared out of nowhere. They bore a resemblance to humans, though their features were sharper, and their builds thinner and taller in comparison. And they had somehow appeared right behind him.
One of them spoke. "We would advise you not to raise your weapons."
Halan tried to speak, but the Lieutenant cut him off before he could. "What - who are you?"
Another of the group spoke this time. "We are the Seer Council. We represent Craftworld Ulthwé of the Eldar.
"Why do you intrude on our affairs, Captain?" another one questioned more aggressively.
"This area of the galaxy is officially Republic space. But we retreated here after we..lost a battle. We do not intend on remaining here long, however if you wish, the Republic will send dignitaries and ambassadors at the nearest opportunity." He thought of lying, telling that they were a routine patrol. Perhaps a display of strength would dissuade them from any hostile actions.
But the damage on his ships was obvious, and who knew how these 'Eldar' would take being lied to?
"No. You will not send any dignitaries for now. But we have a demand. You will enter the Craftworld, captain, and address us in person. Your fleet will not be fired upon during that time."
They wanted him to meet them in person? Why? They had just refused his offer of sending Republic ambassadors.
"I have civilian vessels under my protection, along with the warships. Will you guarantee their safety?"
Another of the Seers, a female if he were to guess replied. "You are not in a bargaining position, captain. However, we guaranteed that the ships in your group will remain unharmed, and we will keep our word. Hopefully, we will reach a more conclusive arrangement after our talks are over."
Halan thought about what they offered him. Their refusal of actual diplomats was still suspicious, but their offer of an actual meeting seemed sound, if curious, though there was the danger that they wanted hostages.
But if they do want hostages, they could disable our ships, and capture us.
However, he saw no better option.
"I accept." Mon Halan said.
The Seer at the center of the group nodded. "Good. We will send a ship to bring you to the Craftworld."
Then, they disappeared as suddenly as they appeared.
Teleportation? Most scientists seemed to consider the idea infeasible. But perhaps they were wrong. However, he'd heard stories from those who had served in the Sith War, and in the Krath conflicts before that. They said the Force users they faced could do many things, like turning the weapons of their enemies against them, or conjure hostile beasts. Halan had not studied the Jedi or the Force as others did, but he knew not to underestimate them. Perhaps these 'Eldar' were adept in the Force?
Mon turned to his second-in-command. "What do you think of this, Lieutenant?"
"I'm not sure what to make of it, sir. But I think that their hostility or lack thereof will be decided when you meet them." the human replied.
He isn't off the mark, the Captain thought. "And what led you to this premise?" he asked, more out of curiousity than anything.
"They certainly do not seem friendly, sir. In fact, I'd say they are as uncertain here as we are. The way their ships encircled us – they seemed ready to blast us at any moment. But now they want to talk. However, they also refused your offer. Maybe they do not want their presence here to be known?"
Mon thought on the answer. It was a good explanation, and one he hadn't expected from the typically brash lieutenant. "Good thinking. You should use your head more often, Lieutenant. You may even find it useful."
"In any case," the Captain continued. "Prepare a shuttle. I suspect our ride will arrive soon enough."
...
As they were approaching the Craftworld, Mon Halan could not help but admire the massive construction. The architecture was beautiful, the graceful spires shining and domes of the massive construct . As they closed in, they could even glimpse trees and parks, plazas and houses as their shuttle flew by. This was not any ship, but a city! If it was mobile, he could certainly understand why they had not encountered them before.
He'd left the lieutenant on the Defiant, only taking a squad of troopers, along with a medic. They wouldn't help much, but it felt safer than going alone. He looked over to them, and saw that they were just as astounded as he was, chattering to each other about what they were seeing.
"This place is massive!" Mon overheard one of the troops say.
"It's like a city with thrusters. How can it even move?"
If only there was an actual diplomat, he mused. Halan had received some basic diplomatic training, like all Republic Navy officers, but it wouldn't be enough to make first contact with an unknown species.
The shuttle approached a large spire, which the Republic captain estimated to be about five kilometers tall, and resembled some sort of docking tower. He could see walkways, and the beings waiting there, looking diminutive compared to their surroundings. Below the tower were what Halan guessed were the docks themselves. There were several quays and hangars, along with several docked vessels of various shapes and sizes. The ship approached, and docked to one of the bays.
Mon Halan felt the ship slow down and then stop altogether. Standing up, he turned to his retinue. They stood at attention, as the shuttle's ramp lowered. The captain straightened his uniform, and took a deep breath. Time for the plunge, I suppose.
...
Eltherion made his way to the familiar sight of Ulthwé's docks. This particular one was a civilian dock, not too dissimilar to the one where he departed the Craftworld from all those centuries ago, when he started his wanderings.
The Farseer could still remember them all. His old companions, a group of outcasts from all corners of the galaxy. Caerdrad, the cheerful ranger from Biel-tan, Esarsys the steersman from Alaitoc, Osinys the grim Exodite...And then there were his fellow Eldar of Ulthwé, who like him had departed for various reasons. Of all of them, Eltherion was the only one to return home.
Some had died, others were lost, and some still walked the galaxy, last he heard. Though he doubted he would ever see them again, even before Ulthwé was found in this strange predicament, now made more complicated by this 'Galactic Republic'.
Yet another state claiming rulership of the galaxy. Either very naive, like the Tau Empire in the galactic east, or – Eltherion dismissed the possibility, writing it off as absurd. But is it?
Doubt gnawed at him. The larger part of the galaxy was mapped, and while there may be locations left uncharted, why would they find humans in such places? The stars here were strange, in the little time they had to observe them. In any case, the truth of the matter would have to wait, the vessel carrying the captain was approaching.
Eltherion had chosen to greet the officer himself, as the rest of the Council deliberated. He had more experience with other sentients, gained in his travels. Better me than someone who would rather see them eradicated.
Of course, it was lucky that this fleet encountered Ulthwé, and in such a strangely vulnerable position. And even then, letting them live thus far was a close matter. Now the lives of these sentients depended on the words of their captain. For their sake, I hope he can speak well.
Said captain was arriving just now, the Farseer watched the shuttle close in, gracefully swooping down like a bird, sails folding as the nimble starship locked onto the dock. A ramp extended from the craft, and out came a group of ten. Their bearing was military, not unlike that of the human Imperium's personnel and they bore weapons. Their uniforms were certainly not designed for intense combat, though some were wearing flak jackets and helmets.
At their head was an alien, a goggly-eyed being with gills that bore some resemblance to a fish. A species unknown to the Farseer, and he wasn't the only one. In his retinue, there were several more aliens, including a purple-skinned one with long head-tails, which judging by the appearance was probably a female, a red-skinned one with long horns and the strangest of the group; a green, bipedal insectoid.
Among them of course, were humans. Humans, those Eltherion knew well enough. Pawns, enemies, allies of opportunity, humanity had played all of those parts to the Eldar at one point or another.
A rather unusual menagerie. He had never seen such a large group of separate species working with one another before.
Eltherion approached the captain, extending his hand as a gesture of trust. "Welcome to Craftworld Ulthwé, captain. We have been expecting you."
The captain shook his hand. Though he could not guess at the alien's expression, he could sense an amount of relief. "I am Farseer Eltherion, a member of the Seer Council. You would be Captain Halan, correct?" the Farseer continued.
The alien nodded. "Yes." he replied. "I recognize you, Farseer. You were aboard my ship."
Eltherion suppressed a smile. He was never there, not truly. Not that the captain needed to know that for now. "You must leave your weapons at the ship. They will not be needed here."
Halan motioned to his group to drop their weapons. He himself unholstered a pistol, and handed it to one of the others.
"Thank you for your cooperation. A transport is waiting nearby." Eltherion said. "I hope we will be able to reach an agreement."
So, this is the first chapter done. If you like it, or really just have some input to provide, drop a review. I appreciate the feedback, and I'm always looking for advice to improve. Though as a warning, this story will not be following certain bits of the Star Wars EU, mostly related to certain MMOs or their tie-in novels.
