Nevha Cleo. Phaerakh of the Ektahk dynasty. Overlord of the Necrons residing on the tomb world of Cellos VI.
She stood in a high tower overlooking the city that had been built in the past year. Men and women of the human Imperium went about their days while the near-mindless Necrons went about constructing the great buildings and roads that made up their new civilization. The two races, against all odds, were at peace.
"I have to admit, I never thought I'd see the day where a woman and her child can walk down the street and wave at a Necron warrior as it's fixing a busted window." Gaz, the now planetary governor said as he came up beside her.
"Indeed, it truly is a sight to behold," she said with a nod.
Two races, one ancient, one young, were living in harmony. The Inquisitor had given the wider Imperium a report stating that the Necrons had been destroyed and that the human population was now safe. In response, the Imperial government had promoted General Gaz to the planetary governor, a role that he was not particularly fit to play.
Fortunately, the Phaerakh was there to assist him. She had been an immense help in keeping the planet running smoothly, even going so far as to combine armaments with the planets new PDF, arming them with new Gauss weapons suited to their size and stature. Orbital defenses had been almost completely handed over to her, with her fleet consisting of a single Scythe class Harvest ship, a pair of Shroud class light cruisers, six Khopesh light cruisers to compliment the shrouds, and a dozen or so escorts. The fleet was large enough to defend the planet from any and all invaders, and Gaz was thankful he didn't have to worry about organizing the orbital defense.
Something else worthy of note that Nevha had taken it upon herself to do, was to change the aesthetic of her newly controlled dynasty. The green, sickly gown of the Necron Gauss weapons and aesthetics was changed to a brighter and calmer blue. Beyond this, the iconography was changed to mirror both the Necrons and the Imperium. The Imperial Aquila stood proud, with the Necron Ankh on its chest.
The tomb worlds Cryptek had not been very appreciative of her orders but followed them regardless. Changing the entire dynasty's iconography had been a challenge to say the very least, and they were still finding and replacing bits here and there. All the same, it was progressing.
"I must admit, it is good to see a flourishing kingdom." she admitted, "However… there is much more on the horizon."
Gaz nodded, "You feel it as well, then?"
"The galaxy is about to plunge into turmoil, ancient enemies are coming to the forefront of the war, and there are far too few of us willing to cooperate against them." She explained.
Gaz nodded, "Well, what do you suggest we do?" he asked.
She looked out at the city below her, pondering the question. Jarod was off doing what he could, enacting his plan in a way that would best fit the galaxy, and he had left her to do as she saw fit. In lieu of that, she decided to build up her own forces, to maintain her relationship with the people of Cellos VI, and to protect them.
She had succeeded on all fronts.
"Jarod told me of many threats to the galaxy. Some are nothing more than a distraction, while others have the potential to wipe out all life in the galaxy, including the Necrons. If we are to weather the oncoming storm, we must eliminate many of these before they get the chance to threaten us." She answered, "The first we should focus our efforts on, I believe, are the forces your kind calls 'chaos.'"
Gaz' brow raised, "You intend to go after the ruinous powers?" he asked.
"Not in the conventional sense, no. We cannot win a war of attrition against them, so we must fight in a different manner. Are you aware of the pylons' my race has constructed?" she asked.
He shook his head, so she elaborated, "They were constructed by my race over sixty million years ago in our war with the great ones. They were meant to suppress the Immaterium, to keep it from affecting realspace. They are scattered throughout the galaxy, though there are many that surround the eye of terror, a large number of them residing on the planet you call Cadia. If we were to retrieve a single one of these, then the Cryptek would be able to construct more of them from its blueprint."
"Are you saying that these pylons are what is keeping the eye of terror at bay!?" Gaz asked.
"That is precisely what I am saying. While there is a similar technology buried within this tomb world, the pylons themselves are capable of eliminating the warps influence completely. If we could gain the knowledge to construct more of them, than we could perhaps sever the galaxies connection to the Immaterium completely." she explained.
For the planetary governor, this revelation was a lot to take in. He had to remind himself that these Xenos did indeed have the Imperium's interests in mind, and even considering the Implications of what she implied, he wondered if such a thing could really be accomplished.
"Where would we start?" he asked.
Nevha would have frowned, if her face could express the emotion of frustration that she felt, "Truthfully, I am not sure where to begin. There are certainly worlds that I know the coordinates of that have these pylons built on them, but as is the case with Cadia, many of them have become heavily populated by humans or other upstart species."
Gaz nodded in understanding, "So, we would need to cross-reference every set of coordinates you have with the Imperium's own maps. A daunting task to say the least."
She nodded in agreement, "And a time consuming one as well. Unfortunately, time is a resource we lack."
Gaz hummed in agreement, thinking the proposition over, "True enough. Still, what else can we do? I sincerely doubt just going to a random set of coordinates would be very intuitive."
"That is why we won't. Instead of cross-referencing the whole list of coordinates or going to one of the random planets, we only need to look for the ones closest to us and cross-reference them. It can save time and considering our location at the edge of Imperial space such worlds may indeed be uninhabited." she explained.
Gaz nodded in understanding, "Well, if nothing else we have a solid plan down at least. When do you want to begin?"
"As soon as we can organize a meeting between your navigators and the Cryptek. If we can get them to put their bias' aside, I do believe we will have a location within our reach fairly soon." Nevha explained.
"Well then, I suppose we'd best get to work." Gaz said with a grin.
[-]
Michael woke up like he did every other morning. But this one was different. Normally, he would open his eyes, staring at the ceiling, get out of bed, put his arm on, get dressed, brush his teeth, make and eat breakfast with Kiara, then get ready to go do something, be it training, meditating, or whatever else.
The first signal that something was different was the fact that he wasn't alone in the bed. He'd woken up a handful of times with Kiara sleeping on his chest, or bundled up next to him, but the person wrapping her arms around his torso was larger than her. Looking down, he noted the long brown hair and pale skin that was sprawled all over the bed, as well as the death-grip he had been caught in.
The look on Salah's face was one of peaceful sleep, something that very few Aeldari really appreciate. He admired her face, the beautiful angles, and curves that even now seemed to have changed from when he'd seen her last. She was far more relaxed, calmer, more serene. Michael had never seen her without her war mask, but now that he did, he wondered why she had ever put it on in the first place.
He still had his arm attached and he was still wearing his normal clothing instead of his pajamas, so he quickly came to the conclusion that he had fallen asleep at some point. He knew for a fact that they hadn't done anything… uncouth, earlier, but he still felt a bit awkward having fallen asleep with a woman in his bed.
She had woken up about four in the afternoon, several hours after their spar, and had cried in Michael's arms for several hours more, so it really didn't surprise him that they had fallen asleep together. He sighed as he ran his fingers through her hair, wondering how and when he had managed to become a cornerstone for Salah to lean on.
He kept staring at her face, a warm smile on his own. He didn't even notice when he had stopped staring at her face and was instead staring into her eyes.
"Morning." He said, making Salah laugh. Her voice rang through the room, a beautiful sound that made Michael wonder why she didn't laugh more.
"Good morning to you too." She said, closing her eyes again and nuzzling into Michael's shoulder, content to lie there.
Michael sighed, knowing full well that it was unlikely he would be able to dislodge her anytime soon. And when he got to thinking about it, he wondered if that was even a good idea, to begin with. She was using him as an emotional support, and if he tried to remove her, that might set her off again. Even considering how willing he was to help her, he didn't want to have to worry about her getting possessed by a daemon.
The door to the room slowly opened as Kiara poked her head in, a massive grin splitting her face. Michael and Kiara had a very silent back and forth, with Michael trying to send a 'don't leave me here' message in exclusively facial expressions, while Kiara simply shook her head and backed out of the room. The little minx.
The two of them sat there for what felt like hours, and probably was a couple of hours all things considered, before Salah finally yawned and began to get up. She sat up, uncaring at her lack of clothing or the fact that Michael was blushing furiously while trying to figure out why the lamp-shade had suddenly become so interesting. He took the opportunity to sit up as well, still trying to adjust his gaze away from her.
"Good morning," Salah said, pulling Michael's head to face her.
Michael chuckled, "You said that already."
She smiled, "Maybe so, but that doesn't make it any less true."
She leaned against the headboard, wrapping Michael's arm around her shoulders. They sat there for a few moments, mostly just sitting and basking in the presence of each other.
"I'm glad you won." She said, breaking the silence.
"Oh?"
"I never would have taken off my war mask otherwise… I would have been damned to feel nothing but anger and hatred for the rest of my life…" She explained, gripping his shirt. Her voice was so much softer than it had been when she wore her mask, and Michael idly wondered how much of her persona had been her, verses how much had just been the mask.
Michael rubbed her shoulder, getting a calmed sigh out of her, "Hey, it's ok. You're here now, and that's all that matters. You don't have to be the Exarch anymore, heck, you don't even have to be an aspect warrior anymore, you don't have to worry about any of it."
She looked up at him with a smile, silently thanking Isha she had stumbled into Michael.
"Besides, what do you have to fear with this 'ol Mon'keigh to keep your spirits up?" Michael said with a grin, point a thumb at himself.
As soon as Michael mentioned the name her race used to describe humans, she was suddenly horrified again. Had she truly called him… called him Mon'keigh? She began to go pale and shake before she felt Michael's hands grip her shoulders, one warm and soft, the other cold and hard as steel.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked.
She shook her head, "Don't… don't ever call yourself that!"
Michael blinked, "What?"
"I said don't ever call yourself that! I will not have you demeaning yourself!" She ordered, pointing a finger at him.
He blinked again, not quite sure what to make of the situation, "O… k… no more calling myself a monkey." he said while raising his hands defensively.
Salah sighed, wrapping her hands around Michael's chest and pressing her ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The loud, slow thumping of his heart appeared to calm her nerves, her breath becoming steady again. Michael wrapped her in a hug once again, trying to figure out what he had done that made her so affectionate.
It was at that moment that they heard a loud crash come from the kitchen.
They both got to their feet quickly, Salah wrapping the bedsheet around herself to offer some form of modesty. When they arrived in the kitchen, Michael sighed when he saw Kiara on the ground, surrounded by a pile of fallen pots and pans, one of which was currently sitting on her head like a hat.
She was clutching her knee, which had a nasty bruise from what Michael could see.
"Ow…" she muttered.
Michael sighed, the concern on his face flowing away. He kneeled down, lifting the pot off her head, "You ok?" He asked, lifting her chin up. She had tears in her eyes but held a determined look on her face. She'd been through much worse, as much as Michael hated that fact. He sighed, pulling the younger girl into a hug, which she reciprocated.
"You know I'm not mad at you, right?" he asked, getting a nod, "You know I love you, right?"
She nodded, "Lo… ou too… ad…" she said, her voice muffled as she spoke into his shirt.
Michael almost did a double-take, pulling her a few inches back so he could look at her face, "Wha… what was that?" he asked.
She spoke again, a whisper that Michael couldn't hear it, "It's okay, whatever it is I won't-"
"I-I said… I said I love you too… d-dad…" she said, scrunching her eyes shut.
Michael's jaw went slack, his mind screeching to a halt. Eventually, his mind rebooted itself, and he let out a barely audible chuckle, tears welling up in his own eyes. He drew her close again, planting a kiss on her head, laughing. He'd never expected to hear those words for a long time, yet here she was, the girl he'd all but officially adopted assigning such a title to him over her own biological parents who were now gone.
In truth, he didn't feel worthy of the title, but he'd be damned if he didn't do his best to raise her as his own daughter. Eventually, Kiara began to cry, not out of sadness, but out of joy and relief that Michael - her father - had accepted the title she had given her.
"You… you're not mad?" she asked, looking up at him with tears in her eyes.
Michael laughed, "No, Kiara, I'm not mad. How could I be?" he asked.
The two, once again, hugged.
On the sidelines, Salah watched the two embrace, her own emotions going for a loop. She wasn't going to break down into tears, but she might start cooing and hugging the both of them if this kept up. She found the sight utterly adorable, and she wanted to join in but refrained from doing so in fear of ruining the moment.
Eventually, the two separated, smiles on their faces. Michael looked to Salah, seeing the massive smile on her face as she bit her lip, her hands clasped together and shaking. She let out a squeal as she ran forward, hugging the both of them. The three of them sat there, hugging in a way that most would find rather odd.
Several minutes passed, and eventually, they all started laughing, letting go as they sat there, surrounded by fallen dishes, filled with positive emotion. Salah and Michael sighed, looking into the eyes of each other. Salah was glad she had someone like Michael to help her, to pull her out of whatever recesses she threw herself into, while Michael was only eager to help.
Kiara, the little minx that she was, looked between the two of them with a massive smile on her face.
"... Are you gonna get married?" she asked not-so-innocently.
[-]
AN:... *Cough*... ye… I did that, not a day after the last chapter… I don't know what it is with me and writing fluff, but I've been doing it all day long, and I can't stop for whatever reason. Beyond that, I've been doing a crap ton of reading for the lore on the Necrons, so they will be playing a rather large role in the upcoming chapters. Chaos isn't something to be trifled with.