Chapter 7

"A whole new galaxy; with 'friendly' aliens, a minuscule humanity, laughably primitive technology and commonplace powers different from anything we've ever seen before?

By the Trickster, this is going to be fun."

-From the journal of Asurranel Wilsa, Harlequin Player.

"I'll bet you fifty yeis that Irlisae winds up in bed with an alien within twelve hours of us reaching a populated world."

"Do I look like an idiot to you? We both know that's a losing bet."

-Illas and Lenris Trition, Eldar Rangers.

Terminus Systems, Onboard the Will of Khaine.

"Close the Portal!" Reyalla cried as Exarch Lorad tumbled through the white disk, primitive weapon fire chasing him. Instantly, the Seers of her council ceased feeding the gate, and it snapped out of existence milliseconds before the nuclear blast went off.

Reyalla sighed quietly in relief. That was very close, she thought as she approached the Solitaire, who was still carrying the now-unconscious human woman. The dire avengers followed close behind her, cautious even of this crippled, seemingly helpless woman.

The Solitaire adjusted his grip on the human both to cradle her easier and grant the Farseer access to her head. Reyalla winced at the sight of the woman's ruined eye, but nevertheless placed her hand upon her temple and, using the woman as a focal point, reached out to the strings of fate.

Let us see why you are so important…

The world flashed white, and then she saw somewhere else.

At first it was darkness, and then a beam of light illuminated her surroundings shining on a human woman.

Williams…a voice whispered.

Yes, this was the woman they had rescued, but she looked quite different here, her face crisscrossed with scars and her expression hardened. She wore a suit of black and green combat armor, and her ruined eye ruined eye was covered by a patch of fabric.

The light grew, and Reyalla saw that the woman, Williams, was flanked by nine other beings. Some were human, more were aliens, and all were indistinct in their features but obviously holding themselves as soldiers. Each one held a weapon in their hands, two were wreathed in a strange blue aura, and another glowing with the familiar power of a psyker.

This group stood before a rising, colossal form with two glowing red eyes. In the distance screams and howls could be heard, and Reyalla saw indistinct, bulbous forms loping and running towards the group, a wave of glowing blue eyes and red muzzle flashes.

Williams let out wordless shout and the group began to advance towards the horde, weapons barking death and psychic fires mixing with the strange blue powers to obliterate the swarm of dark creatures.

And then, behind the small group that was carving through the swarm, another large form rose up to contest the red eyed monster, this time a distinctly human shape with glowing green eyes and a shining gold Aquila behind him.

Reyalla severed her link and opened her eyes, the images seared in her mind. This vision was not nearly as clear as the ones shown to her by Isha, but she had an idea as to what it meant her to do.

"My lady, this is what you needed us for? To rescue some mon-keigh?!"

Reyalla turned her head slowly to see an incredulous look on the face of Seer Triella, the newest member of her council, and skewered the woman with her coldest glare. The seer froze, realizing how drastically she had overstepped her bounds.

Reryalla ignored the mortified eldar and focused back on the human woman, who was still bleeding heavily from her ruined eye socket and slightly from her severed arm. She reached into her pouch and pulled out a rune. She grasped the bone in her hand and channeled her power, letting the energy be filtered through the rune of healing to emit a restorative aura, enough to staunch the bleeding, but no more.

"Solitaire, would you be please take the human to the hangar and have a shuttle prepared? I have a meeting I need to arrange."

The Harlequin nodded affirmative, then turned and swiftly made his way from the room.

Reyalla turned her gaze back to Seer Triella, who was still frozen in place by the shock at her outburst.

"Triella, in the future, it would be wise to think before blatantly and rudely questioning the judgment of your superiors. I trust it will not happen again?" Reyalla said, her voice cold.

"Yes, my lady, of course." She bowed her head, and Reyalla sniffed, placated for now. She nodded farewell to Elsen, which he returned, before turning on her heel and striding from the room, waving for the aspect warriors to follow her.

Quickly the group reached one of the ship's central lifts, getting aboard and heading down towards the hangar bay. Leaning against the back wall of the lift, she closed her eyes and launched into the warp, searching for the annoyingly familiar signature of the Inquisitor who had been drawn here with her.

"Sire, what do you expect to learn from these xenos and the heretic? They are petty sellswords, I doubt they have any real intelligence to provide." Apothecary Theoverus contemptuously said as the two men escorted their prisoners back to the thunderhawk.

Marthas glanced at the marine with annoyance, once again lamenting the loss of Brother Ulysses, the squad's original Apothecary, and lightly cursing the Watchmaster who had recommended Theoverus as his replacement. "It is not wise to underestimate any unknown, Operative. Far to many of my colleagues have died from that mistake: I do not plan to join their number." He said, his tone even.

Whatever Theo said in response was lost on him as Marthas felt a prodding at his mental defenses. He stopped, focusing his attention on the first real evidence of a presence within this calm warp. However, as he examined the prods, he noticed that there was something of a pattern to them, and as well the signature was strangely familiar.

Marthas, for the second time today, lowered his defenses enough to make contact with the prodding entity, and to his surprise found the (relatively) familiar thoughts of Farseer Reyalla. Before he could question why the eldar was contacting him in such a way, she thought/spoke, saying, Inquisitor, we need to meet in person. There are events that have transpired which involve you and your people, and Isha willing we shall not be here for much longer. I am bringing a ship to your...prize. Meet me at the other airlock. A pause. And bring a healer, if you have one.

Before he could respond, she broke contact and retreated. Marthas, mildly confused, returned to focus on the real world to see everyone, including the mercenaries, staring at him. He shook his head to clear the residual effects of the sudden touching of minds before he began barking orders.

"Sergeant, take the rest of the squad and bring the prisoners back to the ship. Apothecary, Tellara, Varsius, you come with me. The Farseer wishes to have a 'discussion', and so we will be meeting her at the other airlock." And with that he turned and began walking away, not giving anyone time to do anything but comply, as he heard one pair of heavy footsteps and two near silent pairs begin to follow him while the rest of the group continued on towards the gunship.

They reached the airlock on the other side of the Blue Suns ship with ample time to spare, and were waiting for a good ten minutes before they heard the telltale clunk of a ship attaching itself.

The door slid open and Marthas heard a slight groan of protest from the metal of Theo's boltgun as the marine reflexively tightened his grip on the weapon at the sight of one of the Imperium's oldest foes.

The Farseer was still garbed for war in her rune armor and carried her singing spear like a staff as she led the small procession onto the ship. Alongside her were two dire avengers and trailing was a striking scorpion, likely an exarch based on the two-handed biting blade he carried at rest on his shoulder.

Marthas could feel the curiosity of the Keletii siblings at seeing members of the other half of their species up close without having to fight for their lives. Reyalla ran her eyes over the group, then focused back on the Inquisitor.

"So, these are the half-breeds that you picked up. I must say, Inquisitor, I'm rather surprised they survived this long. I figured one of your colleagues would have tried to execute them for being 'impure', and then you for harboring them."

Well, that's certainly a very eldar way to start a conversation, but alright. Marthas thought as the twins flinched slightly at the words of the psyker.

"A few tried. Then the rest learned better. However, I doubt you came here to discuss my recruiting decisions; so, what do you want, Eldar?" Mathas said, his expression neutral.

The corner of Reyalla's mouth twitched ever so minutely, then she spoke again. "My purpose here is twofold. Firstly, I've come to inform you of a...situation that has been made aware to me." She paused, took a breath, and said; "We are no longer in the Imperium, the forty-first millennium, or even our own galaxy. The warp rift transported us all to another reality."

"Treacherous xenos filth! You speak nothing but lies!" Theo snarled his bolter raising ever so slightly, an action mirrored by the dire avengers. "Inquisitor, let me slay this filth so we may be free from her manipulations!"

However, Marthas (to the surprise the Imperials), smirked at the Farseer's words, and chuckled at their surprise to his reaction. "Thank you for confirming my suspicions, Farseer. That shaved off roughly a half hour of mind reading from my schedule and probably saved a xeno from losing their mind."

Reyalla's face showed surprise for a moment, before it settled again. "You already knew?" It was not a question.

"I strongly suspected, between the state of the warp, the lack of the Astronomican and the memories I took from two xenos on these ships, I had a very good idea that we were at the least transported back in time. You just confirmed it."

The farseer nodded. "And you know about this reality's humanity?" She asked.

"We have one in our possession already."
"Well, now you have two. Solitaire!" Reyalla called back towards her ship, and the unmistakable form of a Harlequin walked out, carrying an unconscious human female. She wore white armor with pink accents, which Marthas could see was covered in dried blood from a head wound and a severed arm.

"Theo." Marthas said, and the Apothecary moved quickly, mag-locking his bolter to his back and taking the woman from the Harlequin. He laid her quite gently on the floor of the corridor and scanned her with a wrist-mounted auspex for a few moments before speaking.

"Inquisitor, she is severely injured and has lost roughly 28% of her blood. We need to get her back to the Blade immediately if she is to be saved."

Marthas nodded back the way they came. "Go then. I'll be along shortly. Varsius, Tellara, you go as well." He saw them hesitate, both unwilling to leave him alone with potential foes and also brimming with questions both for him and for the Eldar. "I will explain latter. Go!" The twins shared a glance, then moved to follow Theoverus, who was already stomping back down the hallway with the woman in his arms.

Marthas stood alone before the eldar group, and his hand unconsciously slipped to the pommel of his sword.

However, the Farseer seemed to understand his desires, and with a quick command in Eldarin the rest of her companions retreated to the ship, though the dire avengers went grudgingly.

The two leaders of their respective peoples stood alone then. Marthas was the first to speak.

"Do you plan to tell me why you had that woman?"

Reyalla shifted slightly, the eldar equivalent of a shrug, and said "She is important to future events, and was connected to you. I took the necessary steps."

Marthas nodded. "And I assume that, with Slaanesh's non-existence in this reality, you plan to take your people and vanish into unknown space to rebuild? Increase population and the size of your fleet before revealing yourself to this 'Citadel Council' that apparently runs the galaxy?" His voice was laced with contempt for this naive organisation.

This invoked an eyebrow rise from Reyalla. "An accurate guess. And you reached that conclusion...how?"

Marthas shrugged. "It is what I would have done."

"And so, you know my plan, Inquisitor. But what is yours? What will you do, in a place with no Imperium, with a humanity that is at peace with its alien neighbours? How will the warriors of the Mankind survive without a conflict?"

Marthas thought for a moment, then simply replied "I do not know, to be honest. But, as we are both aware, Farseer, peace is very fleeting, and the only true constant in the universe is War. I'm sure I'll find us something to do." She cocked her head, regarding him. Then she nodded slightly, satisfied with his answer, then turned to go.

He had to ask.

"What happened to Dan-Varr?"

Reyalla stopped, then spoke without turning. "Illmureead" She said. He knew that word.

Tyranids. Damn.

"For what it is worth...I'm sorry." He said haltingly, the words feeling both wrong and right to speak aloud.

The eldar chuckled. "Coming from any human but you, Inquisitor, I would have taken that as a grave insult and slew you where you stood." She glanced over her shoulder. "But...thank you. Good luck, Marthas Devinir."
"Good luck, Farseer Reyalla." He said in return, as the door slid shut.

Marthas took a deep breath, then slowly let it out.

So, a whole new reality. With new rules, new aliens, new threats...and me, the old man without a plan.

The Inquisitor sighed, feeling every one of his two and a half centuries as he began to walk back to the thunderhawk.

Damn, I need a drink.

SSV Normandy, on-route to the Citadel.

"Shepard, excellent job on Virmire. Had you not destroyed that compound, we could have had another Krogan Rebellion on our hands." Councillor Sparatus said, slightly begrudgingly.

"Yes, and the Union would like to thank you for getting the STG team out more or less intact." Said Councillor Valern, nodding to the human spectre.

Jane's expression was flat and emotionless as she stood before the holographic representation of the ⅔'s of the council. She nodded in response to their thanks. "I was just doing my job, councillors. I just wish I could have gotten everyone out."

"Ah, yes, your report said that Chief...Williams was left behind?" Valern said, glancing at something off screen. "We will ensure her sacrifice is honored once we finish the issue with Saren; you have my word commander." the salarian said, though Sparatus shot him an annoyed glance before speaking again.

"Commander, come back to the citadel immediately. We will be wanting to hear your account of the events on the planet personally, and I am sure Tevos will appreciate a debriefing, considering she missed your report."

Shepard's interest was piqued at the mention of the elephant in the room: that being the fact that the asari councillor was not present for this report. "Why is Councillor Tevos not here?"

The two exchanged a look before Valern spoke. "Councillor Tevos had an...episode earlier today. She was passing in and out of consciousness and crying out about voices in her head and a scream. Obviously, it would not do to have the people see her in such a state, so she is currently resting in a private room at Huerta Memorial Hospital."

Jane's eyes widened. Voices and screams…she thought, remembering her random faint earlier, and the scream that had preceded it. A coincidence, or…

"In any case Commander, we have business to attend to. We shall see you soon for a full debrief." Sparatus said abruptly, and his hologram cut off. Valern, however, remained connected, and Jane looked at him curiously. "Is there something else, councillor?"

"Yes, commander. I just wanted to thank you privately for getting commander Kirrahe out safely; his death would have been a great loss both to the STG and the salarian people." The salarian said.

"I was not aware you knew Kirrahe, Councillor."

Valern smiled slightly. "I should; he is by brother after all. So again, thank you for keeping him alive. The galaxy would be a lesser place without him. Goodbye, Commander." And with that, Valern severed the connection.

Shepard stood in that spot for a moment, considering the information she had just been given, and trying to find some behavior or trait that seemed similar between the two aliens. Eventually she gave up and walked from the meeting room and into the CIC.

The command center of the Normandy looked unchanged from when she had left a few hours ago, but it felt like something had shifted among the crew as they moved at their stations and discussed quietly.

The difference, of course, being that they had suffered their first loss since Jenkins back at Eden Prime; and what's more, the loss had been from the Ground Team, who had waded through several hellscapes worth of missions with little more than a few scrapes and gunshot wounds. There had been an illusion of invulnerability surrounding Shepard and those who fought with her.

An illusion which had recently been shattered by nuclear fire.

Shepard sighed and leaned against the wall beside the door she had just exited, letting her eyes close for a moment as her thoughts wandered. She emerged from her musings as she heard footsteps approaching, and turned her head as Liara walked out the doors from the ramp to deck 2. They both smiled slightly at the sight of the other, but it was still tinged with sadness of recent events.

"So, how was the council today?" Liara asked, stopping to lean on the wall beside Jane.

"Better than usual, but down one asari." She said. Liara gave her a curious look, and Jane elaborated. "Apparently, Tevos had an 'episode' and was passing in and out of consciousness, shouting about voices in her head and a scream. So, they sent her to the hospital." Jane paused as a suspicion clicked into place, like pieces of a puzzle.

"Liara, you never said, did I say anything after I passed out before we started the attack on the facility?"

Liara's eyebrows-well, where eyebrows would be on a human-scrunched up as she thought on the question, shaking her head slightly as she replied, "I don't think so Jane. Why?"

"Because, well…" Shepard faltered for a moment, the thought of lying flickering across her mind for fear of sounding crazy, but if this was more than just a strange coincidence than she wanted to figure it out. "Before I passed out, after I saw that vision, I heard a scream; It was...just an noise of rage. Rage and loss. And it wasn't like the ones in the Prothean visions; it didn't seem to be connected to the image I saw. I don't know, I just thought…" Shepard trailed off, not sure where she was going with her train of thought.

Liara wasn't phased by her rambling though, and smiled gently before taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. "Jane, it's alright. Whatever happened, we can figure it out. But it has been a long day, and I think we could all use a rest before we get back to the citadel. We'll come back to this after we've both had a chance to gather our thoughts."

Shepard nodded. Then pushed herself off the wall. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea Liara. I think I'll do that; but first I should probably check on Kaiden, do you know where he is?"
"Yes, I think he's down by the sleeper pods." Liara said as she watched the human go, staying in her position on the wall.

"Alright, I'll see you latter Liara." Jane said, turning to go.

Liara nodded and smiled, and then the door slid shut behind her Shepard and she walked down the stairs to the lower deck.

Jane walked through the door at the bottom of the stairs and past the lift into the mess area. Garrus and Tali were sitting beside each other at the table, her hand in his claw, talking quietly as Jane walked by. They looked over as she passed, Garrus nodding and Tali giving a small wave. She smiled back but did not stop, and the two went back to their discussion.

Jane walked into the corridor lined with the sleeping pods shared by most members of the crew. Kaiden was sitting at the end, between the last pod on the left and the end of the hall, with his back against the wall and his cheeks still damp from tears. His eyes were closed, his head resting on the wall, and he didn't react to her approach; so Jane sat down on the other side of the hall, content to let him speak in his own time.

They sat like that for a few minutes, the silence drawing on, until eventually Kaiden opened his eyes and looked at Jane. He let out a shaking breath, and said in a hoarse whisper, "I just can't believe she's gone."

"I know Kaiden. I miss her too. We'll all miss her." Jane said sadly.

Kaiden shook his head, gazing at the floor. "I just...it doesn't feel right." He muttered, more to himself than to her, and Shepard's expression morphed into one of confusion. He saw, and tried to explain.

"It's just...when my dad died, I was out on a training mission near Arcturus. And during the middle of the exercise, I just felt my stomach drop and I got all cold. I new something had happened, and then I got called out and told the news. I felt it when he died, Shepard. But now, with Ashley...I don't. I know it's crazy, but can't help but feel like she's still out there."

Shepard couldn't help but feel pity for her friend, lost as he was in his grief and denial.

"Kaiden," She said softly, "She's gone. There is no way that she could have survived the blast; you can't keep tormenting yourself with this. Grieve as long as you have to, but you need to accept that Ash is gone. And you and I both know that she'd kick you for hiding away like this."

That drew a chuckle from the man, and he again took a deep breath. "I know, Commander. I just...need some time. But you're right, Ashley wouldn't want me to sit around here moping for her. She'd want me to go and put a bullet in Saren's head." He looked at her again, and smiled slightly. "I think I'll stay here a little longer if it's all the same to you, though. I'm not quite ready to deal with the others yet."

"Of course, Kaiden, do what you have to. And if you need to talk, I'm always available." Shepard said, standing.

Kaiden nodded, and she turned to leave.

"Command-Jane...thanks." He called after her.

Jane just smiled back, then continued on to her quarters.

Today had been hell, and she really needed to sleep.

Somewhere in the Terminus systems, in the medical bay of His Silent Blade.

"What is your diagnosis, Sister?"

The sister hospitaller, a woman named Sabe Helone, pulled down her blood-flecked mask as she turned to face the Inquisitor, her apron splattered with blood.

She pulled off her gloves and tossed them into a chute that led straight to the Incinerators five decks below, before turning to a sink and beginning to wash her hands before she finally spoke.

"Brother Theoverus did an admirable job with his field treatment. There wasn't much I needed to do besides remove a few slugs and put a cleaner seal on the injuries, as well as the obvious transfusion to bring her blood levels back up." She said, nodding at the black-haired woman that the Apothecary and Inquisitor Marthas had rushed into her surgery after returning from the xenos vessels. "She is lucky that the Apothecary was there. I doubt she would have survived the flight back had he not given her initial treatment, especially with that severed arm." The sororita paused, then spoke again more hesitantly, "If I may ask, how did you come across her? Were the aliens keeping her prisoner aboard that ship, torturing her?"

The man in the black coat glanced at Sabe. "That is not of importance at the moment. What is the status of the Navigator, and my Apprentice?"

Sister Sabe walked from the surgery as a pair of orderlies, Initiates of the Order of the Peaceful Heart moved to relocate the unconscious woman to another room to begin her recovery. The inquisitor followed her, and she led him to a pair of rooms a short distance from her surgery, where the two Stormtroopers from the bridge continued to stand guard. Sabe punched in a code on one of the doors and it slid open, revealing the sleeping form of the Navigator. Marisa's face was peaceful, and her chest rose and fell steadily.

"Her vital signs were fluctuating for about a half hour, but they stabilized. She seemed to have gone through a very severe shock." Sabe said.

You have no idea, my dear Marthas thought. "And Bethany?" He asked.

Sabe moved to the other side of the hall and opened the door there, revealing an identical room where Bethany was sleeping, much like the navigator. Her face relaxed a great deal in sleep, and she lost the world-weary expression that always faintly adorned her features, regardless of her expression.

"She suffered an overload of energy from the warp when we transferred. She'll recover, but the Interogator will be out of commission for at least a day, if not longer." Sabe said.

Marthas nodded his satisfaction. "Good work, Sister. What of the other crewmembers injured in the event?"

"Mainly minor injuries, maybe a dozen major lacerations and broken bones, and a handful of deaths from electrical explosions and falling debris. When the Captain gets the Blade back up and running, her crew will be little worse than before we hit that damnable rift." She shuddered at the memory of the instant she thought of that wall of pure warp energy, making the sign of the Aquila.

Marthas nodded again. "Very well Sabe, I shall leave you to your work." He said simply, then turned and quickly made his way from the sickbay, heading for the interrogation rooms; which were disturbingly close together, in fact.

Marthas was lost in a strange place, bereft of any knowledge of it's dangers, and without a purpose for his warships and soldiers.

And he had four...guests to help him remedy these problems.

Craftmoon Isha's Dream, one hour later.

Reyalla swallowed nervously, her eyes locked on the small white button with so much power. She stood on a podium in the small council chamber which had been a meeting place for the farseers charged with overseeing the craftmoon.

At least, before they fell to the Devourer.

Now they were privy to her alone, the last surviving farseer of craftworld Dan-Varr, leading the 1.5 million surviving eldar of her homeland, lost in time and space.

And now, it was time to explain to all of them what had happened, and what they would do now.

Isha, let them understand. She prayed silently, And Master, help me to guide our people to a better future.

She took a deep breath, and hit the button.

Across the massive vessel, small lights beside ceiling and wall mounted speakers blinked on, and Reyalla's image appeared on thousands of screens as the people of the craftmoon waited with baited breath for their leader, their savior, to tell them what had happened.

"Brothers, sisters, today is a day of change. Whether this change will be for better or for worse, I know not, for the strings of fate are ever changing, and none can be sure what is to come." Reyalla paused, then continued. "As some number of you likely already know, if those of you watching and listening were to remove your soulstones, you would find the pull of she-who-thirsts is gone."

Reyalla smiled, a small, honest curving of her lips as she waited a moment for thousands of her kin to frantically remove the gems they wore to see if she spoke true. "Yes, it is true. By the grace and planning of Lady Isha and Lord Cegorach, we have been thrust beyond the grip of our most ancient enemy, thrown from the grim darkness of the far future into a distant past. But not the one we knew." She stopped again, feeling the confusion of the people at her words. "For our Gods did not just send us through time, but beyond our reality, and into another; a place where the warp is free of daemons, where the Mon'keigh do not squabble endlessly in pointless conflict, but instead band together in a modicum of civilization, spouting words of peace and cooperation." She couldn't help but let a little scorn show at the naivety of these younger races.

"We are in a gentler land, one where our people can find a hidden place among the stars; to grow, rebuild, and eventually reveal ourselves to these young races when we have once again grown strong." Her face turned grim. "But, we cannot idle in this. For despite the naive dreams of this 'council', a great threat looms on the horizon. A tide of machines, like the bastard spawn of necron and tyranid, waiting beyond the boundaries of the galaxy to sweep through and wipe out all intelligent life, as they have done every fifty thousand cycles for a billion years." She paused.

"As they did to our cousins of this reality."

And then Reyalla called upon the true power of the chamber, and channeled her power to show the residents of the craftmoon her memory of the long-dead captain's final moments, on their screens and in their minds. They saw the devastation, the slaughter these reapers had sown, and they saw how their distant relatives fought even to the last moment, denying the monsters their victory by destroying themselves.

"But they were children compared to us; and even then, they cut great swaths from the fleets of their foe." Reyalla appeared again, a determined look on her face. "We are a people hardened by horrors the beings of this reality could never comprehend. What are these...squids before the might of the Eldarin?"

"So, we shall fade from the galaxy at large; we will grow, we will build, and when the monsters crawl from the darkness to reap their tally, we will emerge, like saviors from heaven to slice through their flanks and smash the destroyers into ash and scrap. And when we are through, and the galaxy is safe," the farseer grinned, confidence oozing from her image, "Their Council will throw themselves at our feet and sing our praises for millennia to come."

She straightened, and held open her arms. "Rejoice, my friends. For the eldar have come again. And this time, nothing shall stop our rise!"

And across the massive ship, tens of thousands of musical voices raised in cheer, to celebrate the start of a new chapter in the history of the Eldar people, and indeed, the galaxy.

"So, Inquisitor, what exactly happened when we went through that rift?"

Marthas glanced at the holographic rendition of Rolbert Turin; the grizzled old Captain of the Watchful Gaze was,as always, eager to get down to business.

Marthas sat at the head of a long table in the Blade's war-room. He had gathered his commanders and captains together to discuss their situation, after spending an hour questioning the mercenaries they had taken captive on the blue suns ship.

Now, he felt confident he could explain the situation to his subordinates. And, more importantly, he had a plan.

He gazed around the table, again taking a count of the gathered men and woman. Flanking him were Sergeants Osiris and Drak Lothbrok, the hulking Space Wolf dressed in black robes, the Lamenter still in his power armor. farther back, in the shadows, Librarian Persax watched, absorbing information as always.

Seated to his left around the large ovular holotable was Captain Dracov, who waited quietly for his commander to begin: excluding an aura of patience that set an example for some of the younger people at the table.

To his right was Navigator Marisa, who had recovered enough to attend this meeting. Her skin was still a little more pink than usual, but her sharp glare prevented much staring.

His captains were still onboard their ships, and so appeared by hologram: Captain Rolbert, with his large bushy mustache, appeared beside his partner and student, Felicia Viron, who's short blond hair was worn in a ponytail, showing her young but attractive face.

Across from the pair were the Partia sisters, both dressed in meticulous dress uniforms; Isabella's accented by white, Victoria's by black. They looked remarkably similar, with thin necks, high cheekbones, and long silvery hair worn loose to flow down their backs. The most noticeable difference was their eyes; Isabella had two greyish-blue irises, while Victoria had only one accompanied by a red lens.

Captain Yerral of the Guardian was the odd man out, sitting across from an empty seat. That didn't seem to bother the former hiver, his homely, rather plain features set in a look of concentration as he muddled over what was so important as to warrant such a meeting as this.

Next to Yerral was Colonel Barria Terix, commander of the platoon of stormtroopers that were onboard the Blade. He was dressed in his usual deep green carapace armor, with a white beret on his balding head. Though the man seemed to be compensating for the lack of scalp hair with his large brown mutton chops.

Across from the Colonel was Sister Superior Sabe of the Order of the Peaceful Heart, who handled the majority of the medical personnel onboard. Her red hair was now loose and hung at shoulder length, her hazel eyes scanning between the faces at the table.

Lastly, at the far side of the table, were the members of the mechanicus who accompanied the Inquisitor: Magos Rik Zerrus, and techpriests Mav Paulus and Cerci Hasta.

The martians were all shrouded in the red robes of their order, with little more than their faces uncovered.

Zerrus didn't have much of a face to speak of anymore, the area overrun with wires and tubes that flowed from where his mouth had once been, and his eyes glowed red from the depths of his hood. Those nearest him could hear the quiet scrap of metal on metal as the senior priest shifted, hinting at changes hidden beneath the biologist's robes.

Cerci's hood was lowered, and she was by far the most human-looking of the three (which was mildly surprising, considering her expertise in bionics). Chin-length black hair framed a round, almost impish face. Her olive skin was unmarked and her eyes were a pale, but not unnatural green color. However, if one looked closely they would see lines of code streaming across her corneas.

Mav was a mix of tech and organic, with a third of his face, including his right eye replaced with a red-lensed targeting array. What was left of his organic form was a hard, almost brutish countenance one would expect to see on an underhive enforcer, not a member of the Martian Brotherhood. He was a large man, his natural size combined with his combat-centered augmetics putting him only slightly below a space marine in terms of size.

"Yes, Inquisitor, where have we arrived among the stars to warrant such a meeting as this?" Rasped Zerrus, his mess of tubing vibrating as a flat, synthetic voice emerged from the depths of his robes. "And what could be so important as to cause you to bring not one, but three new species of xeno onboard? And without even a single specimen for me, I must add."

Again, Marthas ran his eyes around the room as a few of his commanders, notably Rolbert and Terrix started somewhat at this revelation, shooting the inquisitor questioning looks.

Best to get this over with quickly. The Inquisitor thought, standing slowly from his chair, feeling every one of his many years as he met the gaze of his officers, and now some of a very limited pool of people he could count on.

"To be extremely blunt, ladies and gentlemen, we are no longer in the Imperium of Man, nor the 41st millennium, nor even our home galaxy. Through some twist of fate or trick of the warp, that rift sent us over thirty-seven thousand years into the past, and indeed, into another reality altogether." He took a deep breath, then continued. "Here, there is no Chaos, no Imperium, and, as far as I can tell, no Emperor."

There was a pregnant pause, and then most of the people at the table began shouting in the general direction of the inquisitor, in disbelief, in confusion, or even in anger.

Marthas indulged them their noise for a few moments, before his eyes flashed with psychic power and he muttered with a warp-enhanced voice. "Enough."

Instantly the room fell silent. Everyone here new better than to interrupt the inquisitor when he spoke such. They had all seen what happened to both heretics and other imperials who did so in the past.

Marthas looked each of the people in the room in the eyes, then spoke again. "This is the truth of our situation, my friends. Whether we like it or not, it is what has happened. The evidence, from the disappearance of the Astronomican to the presence of four xeno species never before catalogued on two ships in the same system, and the memories of some of said xenos point to no other conclusion. We are in another reality, one free of the horrors of chaos, unconquered by the might of Mankind, and bereft through one reason or another of the Emperor's light."

"Then what are we to do, Inquisitor? If this is true, what purpose have we?" Asked Colonel Barrian, the old soldier reeking of doubt and fear over this new unknown, one so far beyond what the simple man could have ever imagined, even after joining the Inquisition.

Marthas looked thoughtful, then looked at the marine at his side. "Sergeant Lothbrook, what is our duty, as soldiers of the Imperium and agents of the Inquisition?"

"To defend mankind from the threats from within, from without, and from beyond." The fenrisian growled immediately.

"Sergeant Osiris, does this duty end if there is no Imperium?" Marthas asked, turning to the Lamenter.

"No, my lord. As long as there is a humanity to fight for, we must fight." He said.

Marthas looked back at his commanders. "Notice, lords and ladies, that I did not say that mankind does not exist in this reality. They do, just not as the Imperium." The expressions of the people at the table grew more hopeful at this, and Marthas continued. "They are known as the System's Alliance, and incredibly, our people have only been exploring the void of space for fifty years at this point." There were some scoffs at this, but he continued. "What is more, far from battling the xeno species it encountered, mankind has forged a place in a galactic civilization of species known a the 'citadel council.'" He could not hide some disgust at speaking this, and several people at the table actively recoiled at such an idea.

"However, this is not to say mankind is at peace. The System's alliance has been engaged in a 'cold war' with a species of treacherous slavers known as batarians whose territory borders their own." He his a few commands on the table and an image of one of the slain blue suns appeared above the table. "These aliens have been raiding and enslaving humans, and indeed all of the xenos of the galaxy, for over a hundred years, alongside roughly fifty percent of their own population for who cares how much longer." He sneered. "And as you all know, I despise slavers."

He paused, adopting a thoughtful stance. "So, allow me to gather my thoughts. We are sworn, as soldiers of the imperium, to defend mankind against the threat without-xenos, the threat within-heretics, and the threat beyond-chaos," Marthas said, raising a finger for each foe he named. A few of the men and women around the table began to see where the Inquisitor was going with this, and grins began to spread across their faces. "However, chaos as we know it does not exist in this reality," He dropped one finger, "Heresy cannot exist due to the lack of the emperor's existence in this reality," another finger down, "So that leaves us with the enemy without, the alien." He gestured at the picture over the table. "And I believe that the Batarian Hegemony is the perfect target for us to execute our sacred duty upon."

Murmurs of agreement began to circulate the table, but then Captain Yerral voiced the question that Marthas had been hoping for.

"With all due respect, Inquisitor, we are but six ships; and you wish us to take on an entire empire? That is not the kind of plan we have come to know you for; that is suicidal madness."

The other in the room froze, but Marthas just laughed. "Did I fail to mention that, compared to us, the races of the galaxy are throwing rocks at each other and armoring their ships in paper and dreams? The largest combat vessel in the known galaxy is barely a kilometer and a half long, and their FTL technology is four times slower than our own."

Yerral seemed somewhat placated, but still pushed. "Enough stones can fell even the mightiest of warriors, my lord. And I imagine that a species so violent as these batarians seem to be would have quite a few stones at their disposal."

Marthas nodded. "True enough captain. But they need a target for those stones if they are to be of any use."

This statement drew confusion, so Marthas spoke further. "I do not plan for us to destroy the batarians with brute force. Their society already teeters at the brink of self-destruction, and the other races of this galaxy will offer no help if the enslaved masses rise up against their superiors. The whole species is a powder keg; all that's needed is to light a match."

Understanding spread among the imperials. "You mean to set the species at war with themselves. Like you did with the Teraxi." Mav said, his voice thick and deep.

Marthas grinned. "Exactly. But to do that, we need information. Information that we cannot get from my captives. So, some...bargaining will be in order." Marthas gestured at the room, and all stood. "Captains, I want your ships combat-ready as soon as possible. Colonel, get your men ready for a boarding action. Sergeants, the same for your squads. Everyone else, standard procedure." He began to leave the room, but turned as the door slid open. "We are in a new galaxy, my friend. With new threats, new goals, and most importantly, new rules. Be aware, we'll likely end up breaking many of the old ones before all is said and done."

And with that, he left the room with a flourish of his coat.

Priora was very, very confused as to what was happening, and where in the Goddess' name she was.

All she knew for sure was that this whole situation was about as fucked as anything she had ever gotten into in the past. And given her past, that was saying something.

She and the others had been escorted back to the airlock the strange humans had come from, finding out that there were in fact not four, but seven of the black-armored giants among this group. Which lowered their chance of escape from nearly impossible to don't even try. Then the giant in the white helmet had come back to the ship carrying a seriously injured human woman none of them had ever seen before. Shortly after the old man had come back, a troubled look on his face, and they left the ships behind. They reached what had to be the stranger's ship, and landed in a hangar that had to be a part of a dreadnought, based on the size.

Oh, lovely, they have a dreadnought. Why wouldn't the guys with the giants and teleporting people have a dreadnought. She'd thought.

Moments after they landed, the group had been separated at gunpoint. Or, cannon-point, considering the size of the giant's guns. She had been taken to a small, bare cell without even a bed and shoved inside. She tried to use her biotics to force open the door, as she heard the giant walk away, but no matter how much she wailed on the door, it would not budge.

So she sat, and waited, and over an hour later, two men in bulky green combat armor and strange, boxy rifles had entered the room and roughly dragged her through the halls to this new room, which based on appearance and the table surrounded by chairs, was a questioning room.

She had been in the room for about five minutes when the door opened again, and Petrov was tossed inside by more of those soldiers, falling to the floor as they closed and locked the door.

"Shit, Nik! Are you alright?" Priora yelped, rushing to the side of her teammate as he slowly pushed himself off the floor. She winced as she saw the man's bloodied and bruised face, reaching down to help him up. "Damn, what happened?"

The human spat out a glob of blood and saliva into the corner as he stood with the asari's help. "A word of warning; don't try and punch the old man in the coat. The soldiers don't like it when you do that." He said, his swollen tongue slurring his speech somewhat.

Priora shook her head. "Damn it Nikolas, what made you think that was a good idea?"

He glared at her. "The bastard fuckin melded with me. What was I supposed to do, just accept that? And what the fuck is he, how can a human even do that?"

Priora took a step back. "Wait, he did that to you to?"

Their conversation was interrupted as the door opened again and Oceno stumbled into the room at the shove of a soldier. The batarian medic turned to snarl at the man, but the door was slammed in her face. She turned back to her friends, and all four eyes widened at the sight of Nik's face.

"God damn it, you insulted someone, didn't you?" She said with exasperation, moving to take a look at the human.

"I didn't...Well, yes. But that wasn't what set them off. Hell, I don't even know if those assholes understood a word I was saying. This," he gestured to his face, "happened when I took a swing at the guy from the ship after he...melded with me." He shuddered at the thought, and Oceno took a step back in surprise.

"That happened to you to? I half thought I had gone crazy…" She said.

"It happened to me to, back on the Deal. That was what he did when he grabbed my head." Priora said. "But...I don't think it was a meld. It didn't...feel right."

The door opened again, and this time the group was more or less ready when Verris limped in, the guards giving him a lighter push than the others. He looked at the three of them, then back at the door, and said. "This is a rather interesting development, don't you think?"

The others rolled their eyes at this, even as Oceno went to look at the marksman's wounds. "How can you find this 'interesting', Verris. We've been taken captive by some strange faction who none of us have ever seen or heard of before. Who know what they plan to do to us?" she said.

"Well, I have a theory…" Began the Salarian.

"Of course you have a чертов theory." Muttered Nikolas as he sat in on of the room's chairs.

"Nik." Priora said, and the russian quieted. "What have you got, Verris? Can't be any worse than what we've come up with."

"Well, I assume that old man came and 'melded' with each of you?"

"Yes, but I don't think it's melding the way asari do it." Priora said, leaning against the wall.

"I agree, it wasn't like any of the time's I've melded with asari before." Verris said offhandedly, not noticing the strange looks he friends gave him. "But, while he was in your minds, did you notice any patterns in the stuff he was looking at?"

"Yeah…" Oceno said after a moment. "He was looking at a lot of general information about the galaxy. Politics, technology, the different races...just, normal stuff that anyone should know."

"Exactly!" The salarian said. "I think…"

Whatever Verris would have said fell silent as the door opened again, this time admitting the man who had begun this discussion.

The old man in the coat walked into the room and regarded the four of them with a slight sneer before gesturing to the chairs at the room's table. They exchanged a glance, unsure whether they should comply, and he sighed in exasperation and pulled back his heavy coat, revealing a holstered pistol and giving a silent threat.

The four reluctantly sat down and the man took up his place on the other side of the table. The two groups regarded each other for a few moments, and just as Priora decided to demand an explanation to why they were here, the man spoke, this time in English.

"The salarian was not to far off in his guess. I was looking for information on this galaxy; we haven't had much...experience with it yet. As to why," He glanced at Ocena, who closed her mouth as his gaze shifted to her, "that will remain my business for the foreseeable future. Now, as to why I have gathered you here and not simply executed you once I got what I needed."

Not giving the four the chance to absorb the fact that he had been ready to execute them, Marthas continued. "Me and my men have found ourselves without a cause at this point in time, but thanks to your memories, I believe I have found a solution to this problem; as well as a way for the four of you to make yourselves useful to me. Which," He said, his voice taking on a menacing tone, "is something you should want. I have not time for useless things. Especially xenos."

His tone changed again, back to the general conversational tone he had first used. "Now, a question. What do you all think of the Hegemony?"

Ocena's expression darkened at the man's words, and Petrov spat out another bloody globule of saliva. Verris sniffed with distaste. "A destructive, backward regime that should have been dismantled years ago," he said

"Dismantled? No, it needs to be obliterated, ground into dust, it's very memory spat upon and held up as an example of how not to run an interstellar government." Ocena snarled.

"It's because of those ублюдки I'm not happily married on Mindoir right now. As far as I'm concerned, those bastards can burn in the deepest pits of hell for all eternity." Nikolas said, his voice carrying a quiet rage.

The man was smirking as he looked at Priora, and she again felt a chill run down her spine. "The Hegemony has caused little but pain to the rest of the galaxy since it first emerged. I won't shed any tears is and when it finally curls up and dies." She said, her voice hard.

"Excellent." The man said, leaning back in his chair. "In that case, I should probably introduce myself." He stood, and bowed with a flourish of his arm. "Lord Inquisitor Marthas Devinir, Executioner of the Batarian Hegemony." He straightened again, and grinned darkly at their confused faces. He looked only at Priora, though, and his next words sent another chill down her spine.

"Now, Miss. T'loak, I need your assistance in arranging a meeting with your mother. There are several things I'll need to begin the destruction of a galactic power, and I think that the Queen of Omega should be able to help me get them."

Russian Glossary:

чертов-fucking

мать лохи-mother fuckers

A/N

And so begins the next story arc for our out-of-place travelers. The Eldar are to vanish from the galactic stage (for the time being), and the Imperials have a target. What could possibly go wrong!

I'd like to thank fellow FF.N user Doomeater for proof-reading this chapter for me, and of course all of you for coming back to read this strange thing that I've been putting on the internet. I'm glad so many of you seem to like it.

That concludes things for now, so as always, Review, Follow&Fave if you're new, and as always,

Imperator senatus et populi Romani Dinosaurs!