The grass tickled Imisha's toes as she wiggled them playfully. Her loose hair was splayed across the mountain side, all but the long elaborate twin braid that marked her as an occupied woman in traditional exodite culture. The gas giant the maiden world orbited shone down on her naked body, the sweat of the night's activities slowly lifting into the cool air. She yawned like a cat and stretched in all directions, letting the ground scrub and massage her back like a giant brusch.
Imisha turned on her side and looked at her beloved exodite chieftain. He layed on his back beside her, his eyes closed and breathing steady. Outwards Davar gave the impression of a stoic man of few words. In private he still choose his words carefully, it was one of the things Imisha liked about the man. But what she loved was that inside him was always a fury just barely contained. From battlefury to lovemaking his soul was like volcano. Peaceful on the outside but raging hot inside. She both admired his control and was drawn to his uncontrollable fire. This delicate balance was why she had fallen for him.
She hadn't told him she was pregnant yet. Never mind that she was carrying triplets. Imisha smiled to herself. The man would lose his mind with joy and pride. Their children would be heirs to this world. Imisha herself would be queen if she wanted. But she wasn't ready for that yet. He hadn't asked her why she was back or pushed her for either commitment nor explanations. Smart, for Imisha was not a woman who reacted to pressure in any form lightly. But since Eldar pregnancies were long drawn out affairs she had plenty of time before her body began to tattle on her. For now she just wanted to...be. And being pregnant wasn't half bad, Imisha mused and giggled to herself like a maiden. Once the nausea had subsided and been replaced with more...pleasant emotions it was all quite enjoyable. Imisha had never had a very strong sex drive even for an Eldar but these days if she went without it she was quickly climbing on the walls. Luckily Davar was happy to oblige her.
And the pregnancy gave her a much needed excuse to rest. The first night back she had taken a bath and really looked at herself for the first time in a long time. And it hadn't been a pretty sight. Imisha had never been a great beauty or really cared that much for her appearance, mostly keeping up appearances for political reasons. But this time she had been frightened. Who was this ragged old woman who stared back at her in the mirror? What had become of the youngest warlock in the craftworld's history? Imisha looked hundred of years older than she was. Pale skin tight over the gaunt face, lifeless hair, black circles under her eyes and nothing even remotely enticing about her figure. She had curled up in a ball and cried that night until Davar had stormed into her room and without a word declared open war on her insecurities in a way only he could.
She still hadn't decided what to do with herself in the long run. It simply wasn't in her nature to do nothing. So while spending her days wandering the moon and nights having sex was wonderful for now in the long run she knew she would need something else to occupy herself with. She thought of the exodites who had welcomed her with open arms. Silently she was ashamed for her previously opinions about them. Yes they were in many ways a crude slow witted people that were a lot less refined that their brilliant craftworld cousins. But they also had zest for life that she so envied. And life here was so simple. These people were happy, content. Even in death. Seeing them made Imisha wonder if she had ever been happy. She wanted to be part of it. Surely there must be way in which she could contribute. The birth of the children were still far away.
Going back to the craftworld seemed less and less like an option with every passing day. It was like that part of her was gone. She had shed her skin and emerged anew. And she found she had little urge to climb back into the old discarded role. All the political bickering and shadow play of the craftworld that she had never enjoyed in the first place now seemed downright repulsive to her. Never mind the fact that if she was honest with herself her political powerbase was effectively gone. She stroked her stomach and smiled. And good riddance to it.
Not that it had been easy to accept her new fate. At first it had been a bitter pill to swallow. She had worked so hard so long to reach the position she was in. And serving her people was her first and foremost calling, had always been and would always be. But the recent situation had shaken her confidence. What if there would have been war with the Imperium? Deep down she knew it was a war the craftworld could not afford. In the end it was likely that they would have had to withdraw, leaving the maiden worlds and the exodites on them to their fate. As she studied Davar's slow breathing she was thankful it had not come to that.
But when she saw the parade of worn Void Stalker battleships and Eclipse cruisers returning from patrol she truly understood exactly how a big a deal then recent truce with the humans were. Some of the ships were just barely holding together. The shipyards were packed to the brim of battered ships that finally had the chance to be put in dry dock for maintenance. Having long since lost their edge in ground combat the Eldar heavily leaned on their fleets for survival. But there was never enough of them, so it usually came down to the odd cruiser and smaller craft to desperately try to hold off much larger vessels. But soon, as one commander had grimly pointed out they would find out if the enemies of the craftworld enjoyed picking on something their own size. So as soon as the first ships started rotating back into service she had decided: If there ever was a time for her to go, it was now.
Especially comforting was the newly christened Stablemaster's Pet prototype battleship that had started hunting the sector like a long starved predator. Originally meant to relieve the fleets protecting the maiden worlds it could now be tested properly. The commander had started using a very unorthodox tactic. He had started stalking Imperial convoys that traveled the edge of the sector. This in itself was nothing new, raiders had all put perfected the strategy of the millenias. But instead of attacking the lightly escorted convoys themselves he used them as bait for bigger fish. So when orc or chaos raiders descended upon the convoys a black shadow lay in wait for them. Hungry, eager to test the sharpness of it's new teeth and claws. Imisha had been a commander for over twenty years and never before had she seen a string of reports so positive. If only all the Void Stalkers could be retrofitted with the new synchronized disruption array the Stablemaster's Pet carried.
Traditionally Eldar used pulsars as ship weapons since given the distances in space disruption cannons were too unreliable in anything but point blank range. But then some clever bonesinger had in what she suspected was an accident figured out that multiple disruption blasts could be configured to converge if fired simultaneously, effectively increasing the range if multiple batteries could be linked together. But it required at least a hundred linked cannons firing at the same nanosecond to have any real effect. Thus in the carnage of ground combat this new technology was not really applicable. But a hundred stripped down miniaturized cannons could just barely be fitted onto a battleship. One hundred twenty seven to be exact.
After many delays the end result was a horribly expensive still inaccurate dangerously short range weapon with a long reload time and thus at best only a complement to traditional weaponry. But it had turned out surprisingly effective, mostly because that traditional Eldar pulsar weapons outranged the space weapons of other races. That meant that enemies tended to try to engage Eldar fleets at close range to try to level the playing field. And although most engagements sofar have been against smaller vessels, the tests consistently pointed towards that engaging the Stablemaster's Pet at close range was not advisable.
And on top of this Imisha had even received an official imperial communiqué thanking the craftworld for the assistance against the raiders and noting that the mining deal was proceeding satisfactory. It was of course a not so subtle reminder from the Imperium that they were well aware of the Eldar weapons test. Imisha didn't care. Even with the current ceasefire it was good that they knew that the craftworld still had teeth. If only the cursed princess could have picked a better name for the ship. But she had insisted, claiming it was an honorary title based on her favorite book.
Come to think of it Imisha hadn't seen the nosy exodite princess since their encounter in her craftworld quarters. She remembered very little of what had been said, only that the princess had explained to her that she was pregnant and advised her to go back to the maiden world. Imisha hadn't been hard to convince. There was no way she would been able to keep her pregnancy hidden at the craftworld for long. But here where the world turned slower and she had plenty of time to herself it was different game. Here she could come to terms with things at her own pace. So after staging a hissy fit about withdrawing the battleships from the maiden worlds she had insisted that she didn't trust the humans and wanted to monitor that the kept their part of the bargain. And stormed out on the first ship out. In reality she found the bulk of the Imperial forces long gone. Scouts had reported that the forward space marine base that had been established in the sector had been abandoned. With the mining situation resolved a couple of verdant moons just wasn't enough to warrant anything more than a token presence this far out. The princess logic was clear: Why fight for something that you could get for free?
"Danivar?" She poked Davar and got a grunt in response. The extra ni was an exodite language quirk that was used for loved ones. She was now Iminisha to the chieftain.
"Whatever happened to your niece?"
The exodite chieftain folded his brow, thinking hard.
"I thought she travelled to your world"
"No she just visited briefly. She didn't come back?" Imisha heard that her voice carried a worried tone. Where did that come from, she thought to herself.
"That one comes and goes as she likes. But she has the spirit of the dragon. I am sure she is fine."
The last sentence struck Imisha like a bolt of lightning. She gasped and sat upright in a jerk. For the briefest instance an image flashed in her mind. An image of a little girl lying in a pool of her own blood.
Farsight is a strange thing. And even at the best of times it was most surely a vague thing. Countless paths leading in all directions. It it like a galaxy full of yarn balls all tangled together. The job of a farseer it try to figure out which thread would lead to the best possible future and to try to follow it through the maze of the future. To even make sense of the chaos of possibilities was all but impossible and then to try to weigh one inconclusive sign against another was the epitome of frustration. The princess had been right, Imisha had been a lousy farseer, lacking both the patience and judgement required. Lately she hadn't even tried, steadily moving away from the craft altogether.
But this was different. All the sudden there was one path and one path only. One single fragile golden thread spiralling into eternity that was unlike all the others. One faint smile in room full of frowns. One vision of a way forward for her children. In that instant of clarity Imisha could see the end of all things she loved at the end of every other twist of fate. And one, just one last chance for a throw of the die that might, just might see it all end in anything but fire. It was a faint light in the night but in all other directions there was nothing but utter darkness. Imisha had never been so sure of anything in her life. Fate beckoned and she had to follow. Not even bothering with clothes she got to her feet and sprinted stark naked down the mountain into the night.
"Iminisha! What is it?" Davar stumbled off the ground and shouted after her in confusion.
"What is it with the women in this family?" He grumbled as he fumbled for his pants and ran after her.