Speculum Enigmate Chapter 7
The interdimensional passages of the Webway shone brilliantly before him, swelling and shrinking organically as they flew along. The arcane psychic construct could be perilous to the unwary but it remained beautiful, an eternal reminder of the glory that the Eldar race had once possessed and then lost. Most passageways were barely large enough to walk down but others could fit entire Starships within and it was down one of these the Eagle Bomber flew.
Manaar worked the controls with steady diligence, his former Path as a pilot giving him the skills to control the elegant craft. He and Koshano had requisitioned the bomber for their journey and none dare gainsay a Farseer when he asked for something. Manaar hadn't been looking forward to a long journey in such a confined space as the cockpit but thankfully his companion had been silent. They had flown through the trackless maze of the Webway, seeing no other living thing for which he was glad. Strange dimensional twists had there been aplenty, mysterious branches blocked by potent runes forbidding entry and once they had even flown over the shattered ruins of a city. Manaar had no time to stop and investigate, for their target was near. A Psychic impulse through the control interface told him his father wanted them to head down a tiny offshoot from the main branch and Manaar twisted the Eagle over to dive into the cramped tunnel, so tight the bomber barely fit into the width of it. The glowing walls flashed by and Manaar focused his mind, making sure they didn't crash into the side of the tunnel and end their journey in ignominy.
The end of their trip came suddenly and without warning. One instant they were flying through the webway, the next a brilliant flash of light announced they had flown through a portal into realspace and the glowing light became the black of space. Manaar eased off the controls as he saw they had appeared over a desolate moon, a barren and airless rock of no import. It sat against the stars in almost perfect darkness, the local sun so far away it was merely a brighter star. Manaar knew they must be on the edge of the stellar system of Pascum, where none would see them. He checked they were safe behind the Eagle's shimmering Holofield and said aloud, "Where is your contact?"
Koshano replied serenely, "Awaiting my signal."
Manaar sensed the communication array sending out a message on the crude electromagnetic wavelengths Mon-Keigh used and to his surprise a message came back an instant later. It was nothing but a code of beeps and dashes, which Koshano responded to with another series of beeps. Manaar brushed the craft's sensors with his mind and sensed an object coming over the terminus of the moon, a huge slab of metal and thrusting plasma. A typically brutal Mon-Keigh ship, moving to intercept them. A mental impulse steered the Eagle towards the ship and Manaar's lip curled in revulsion as the vessel came into visual range. It was typical of human craftsmanship with vast slabs of ugly armour and exposed pipes, looking barely any different from Ork construction to his eye. The rear third was nothing but huge reactors and burning plasma torches, thrusting through space where the Eldar sailed with grace and dignity. The hull bore snarling gargoyles and painted Aquilas, feeble attempts to ward off Daemons during Warp transit. Even by human standards it was astonishingly ugly and ramshackle, lacking significant weapons or defences. It was no warship but a tramp scow, a bulk hauler with no pride or great lineage.
Manaar hissed, "How do such primitives think to claim the stars? That hulk looks like it couldn't survive a single Warp jump."
"You won't have to travel the warp in that," Koshano assured him, "Land in the waiting bay and conceal your contempt, do not let the Mon-Keigh know how much you loathe them."
"That will be a challenge," Manaar muttered as he manipulated the controls.
In a few minutes they entered a looming door in the side of the tramp, passing through an atmospheric shell to be grabbed by the internal gravity field. Manaar's hands danced across the controls as he compensated for the sudden shift and brought them in for a gentle landing on the bare metal deck. Air froze on their void chilled hull and the bomber settled down with a quiet whisper entirely unlike the roaring engines of Mon-Keigh shuttles. He had not been on a Mon-Keigh ship before but he had expected a gaggle of workers to tend to his craft, but there was no one to greet them, the bay was empty. Koshano briskly raised the canopy and jumped out and Manaar was a second behind. His boots hit the unyielding metal, so different to comforting Wraithbone and he shivered at the raw indifference of the substance.
Manaar breathed in air stinking of oil, metal and human body odour as he asked, "This contact, exactly what is your relationship?"
Koshano explained, "We have a mutually beneficial arrangement, I provide glimpses of the future and she moves among the Mon-Keigh, where I cannot go. Together we eliminate nascent threats to both our races."
"You aid Mon-Keigh with our races' gifts of prophecy," Manaar sneered contemptuously.
"That's what I want her to believe," Koshano replied with a cold smile.
"You and your games of fate," Manaar muttered sullenly, "Everything and everyone is merely another piece to be pushed around."
Koshano didn't reply but stood patiently waiting for events to unfold. With nothing else to do Manaar moved to the bomb bay and opened it, pulling out a large chest floating on an anti-grav field. It contained his armour and weapons, safe behind psychic locks he was confident no Mon-Keigh could break. The Farseer had cautioned him against wearing his Aspect armour openly but affirmed he would need it before the mission was over. When asked how Manaar would know when to open it the Farseer had stated he would know when the time was right.
Manaar stiffened as he sensed something approaching. He was no seer but like all his race he was innately psychic and his rudimentary senses were reeling. A wave of coldness was leaching into the bay, stifling his awareness and closing off his mind to the glory of the universe. He glanced at his father and saw the cold prickle on his forehead, signalling that the Farseer felt it too, probably more acutely than Manaar did. He remembered his father's warnings of Abomination and understood what that had meant, this cold void was an absence of life, it was the essence of Empty.
A doorway slid up in the far wall and four humans emerged, striding over to them with a confident stride. In the lead was a short female with black hair and rounded features, her eyes were narrow and her build athletic, by human standards. He bore an exotic alien pistol on her hip and her body was covered by a tight bodyglove. It would have been most appealing on another Eldar but on her apish human body it repulsed him. Yet his eyes were drawn to the silver 'I' symbol hanging around her neck, the mark of the Inquisition, an organisation Manaar knew to be wary of. At her side was a burly male with many scars. He wore a carapace breastplate and fitted armour over his legs but his head and arms were bare, revealing tattoos of the human Imperial Guard. His face was stubbled and stocky and he had a red bandanna tied around his forehead. He carried a bulky laser rifle which was attached to his back by a power cable and he appeared to be chewing something, his grizzled jaw working up and down ceaselessly. On the other side was a figure in a red robe, whose face was hidden in shadow but a metal tendril poking over his shoulder proclaimed he was of the ridiculous machine worshipping cult. Yet it was the last one who made Manaar's skin crawl, a woman in a corset-like silver breastplate, with a half-mask over her lower face shaped like a portcullis. She was bald and had an animal's fur draped over one shoulder while her back carried a great broadsword. She radiated nothingness, a Null aura that enveloped the whole area and Manaar instinctively knew this one had no soul: an Abomination indeed.
The party stopped before them and the Inquisitor declared in the human's coarse tongue, "Welcome aboard the Pilgrim's Passage. Koshano, you're late."
Koshano nodded fractionally in a manner a Mon-Keigh would take for begrudging respect, but would be an insult to one who truly grasped the subtleties of the Eldar, as he said in kind, "Inquisitor Vevara, a pleasure as always."
This Vevara bristled as she spat, "Don't mince words, I am not accustomed to being summoned."
Koshano replied smoothly, "So rude, have I not steered you well in the past? You would never have found that Lycramole infestation without my guidance. Your celebrated Exterminatus of the entire Spydarian race owed no small part to my warnings of their growing threat and lest we forget, I told you where your hated rival Inquisitor Zerban could be found."
Vevara sniffed, "True, your advice has been useful. But don't pretend you helped out of the kindness of your heart. Those individuals threatened your race as much as mine. You wanted them eliminated… at no cost to the Eldar."
Koshano smiled mockingly but the humans didn't notice his disdain as he said, "Such a threat looms again, the world of Pascum will soon be lost to your Imperium, unless you act."
Vevara's eyes narrowed as she said, "So your message proclaimed, yet this time you brought a friend. Odd, you usually travel alone."
Koshano waved to Manaar and said, "This is my agent Manaar, he will accompany you to the planet."
"He will not!" Vevara barked testily, "The Ordo Xenos has a wide latitude but to ponce around with an alien will raise questions among my compatriots in the Inquisition. Questions I don't want to answer."
Koshano replied frankly, "Without his presence you will fail, this I have foreseen."
Vevara's lip curled as she hissed, "Damnation, very well if there is no other way I'll put up with it. Who are you and what can you do?"
Manaar bowed as best he could stomach before a Mon-keigh and said, "I am Manaar and I can fly and fight better than anyone you can imagine."
Vevara sniffed, "A warrior, I suppose you may have some uses and an Inquisitorial rosette can smooth over any bother. I am Inquisitor Vevara of the Ordo Xenos and if you play me false I will shoot you without hesitation. Now let me introduce you to the rest."
She waved to the burly warrior and said, "This is Eirk Junat, you can call him Eirk."
The warrior hacked up a gob of black weed and spat on the ground as he said, "Never fought with a Xenos before but you can count on me in a firefight. Unless you try to trick us, then I'll gut you."
"Greetings," Manaar replied neutrally, eyeing the filthy wad of chewed weed on the deck.
Next Vevara waved to the red-robed being and said, "This is Adept Lunix, he's our resident door opener and Cogitator-breaker."
Lunix spoke in a mechanical voice, "He is clean isn't he? This vessel is filthy enough already with human diseases without adding alien microbiology to the mix."
Manaar was faintly insulted as he replied, "I am far cleaner than any of you."
"Good," Lunix stated, "The sheer number of germs I have catalogued on this scow is staggering. How the crew live like this is beyond me. I look forward to learning of your technology, but the Omnissiah warns against trusting aliens, if you stray outside assigned protocols I will have to terminate you."
"At this rate everyone will have to draw lots for the honour," Manaar muttered.
Finally Vevara waved to the Abomination as said, "This is Witchseeker Mortula. Formerly of the Sisters of Silence."
"Hello," Mortula said from behind her half-mask.
Despite the fact that she made his skin crawl Manaar frowned as he queried, "Sister of Silence?"
Mortula replied, "Formerly, it turns out the order wasn't too fond of someone who can't keep their mouth shut."
"Introductions are over," Vevara stated, "We'll show you to a bunk shortly, but first I need information. What exactly are you supposed to do when we get there?"
"Fight and kill," Koshano declared as he held out a small data-crystal, "This is compatible with your technology, within you will find the first step upon the road that will lead you to your quarry."
Vevara snatched the crystal up as she muttered, "You don't always have to be so cryptic, you could just tell me who to shoot."
Koshano replied, "To see the journey and to walk it are two different things."
"Bloody Eldar," Verara muttered none too quietly, "Expecting a straight answer out of you is like expecting an Ork not to fight."
Koshano bowed mockingly as he said, "This concludes our business, I will return to these coordinates when the mission is done."
Vevara replied briskly, "As you wish, go hide and sip Tanna in a safe corner while I do all the dirty work, as usual."
Koshano declared, "Mock me if you will but the fate of a human world rests upon this endeavour. Fail and your precious Imperium will suffer."
Koshano turned to Manaar and declared, "I wish you fair fortunes and good hunting."
Manaar saw his fingers twitching in a manner that communicated a reminder that the Aspect Warrior must seek out his target and eliminate it, no matter the cost. Understanding that the humans were expendable Manaar replied coolly, "I shall see you when this is done."
With that Koshano turned and swept back to the Eagle bomber, jumping into the cockpit with a graceful bound. Everybody stood back as it took off and rotated, then flew serenely away, barely disturbing the air currents in the bay as it did so. Manaar stared longingly after it, wishing he was on board but then the meaty hand of Eirk slapped him on the back as the human declared, "Come on then, its a week to Pascum's orbit from the outer reaches. Better get you to a bunk and unpack your things."
Manaar gritted his teeth as he suppressed the instinctive urge to slice the offending hand off its arm and turned to follow his new companions out of the bay. Already he was displeased by this turn of events and he knew this adventure would not be sung of in the epic myth-cycles of Furta-Rith. As far as he was concerned the sooner this was over the better, then he could forget it ever happened.
