Iplanen folded his hands together as he took the glideship to Yvonne.

A large part of the reason he'd put this off for so long, and had used the servo skull to interact with the soldiers from Hope, was because he expected them to react poorly to his appearance. It was, on the face of it, absurd. They were accustomed to Necron warriors, intimidating eight-foot tall xenos. But they were xenos, and that was a different kind of horror.

Iplanen knew how the human mind worked, and had dealt with the reaction of non-tech priests many times. Humans had several kinds of horror. There was horror of the xenos, the completely alien, but there was also horror of the transhuman, the thing that was human but also not right. That was the horror that the tech priests and Astartes touched. He didn't think they would run away screaming, not at all, but he expected some of the soldiers and technicians to be unnerved and uncomfortable. Sure enough, his arrival was greeted with stares and discomfort. The amusing part was the pwi-Necrons also seemed to find him unnerving, some of them at least.

What quickly smoothed it over was, oddly enough, mockery.

"What are you lot staring at?" One pwi-Necron slapped two of his fellows, one on the shoulder and the other upside the head, with an odd sound of clanging. "The two of you went to Mandragora and you're staring at a tech priest? And you idiots, you hang out with US! What you staring at?" The public shaming worked quite well, as they all realized they were being foolish. Iplanen watched in amusement as they went back to duties, only shooting him the occasional glance. "You're here for Jan?"

"I am. My name is Iplanen Grosk," he said gravely and the Necron nodded.

"I think you're in luck, last I saw he was taking a break. Have you seen the new church?" Oh, that building they had been erecting was a church? Iplanen was very curious to see it, since he knew they did not follow the Imperial creed. He had very little idea of their religious practices at all.

The church was, in most ways, very similar to one of the Imperial Cult. Iplanen thought that was likely because human churches were all much the same, be they devoted to the Emperor, some random heresy, or even the Ruinous Powers. Iplanen would never have admitted it – even for a tech priest, it was dangerous – but he had little attachment to the Imperial Cult. He believed in the Cult Mechanicus, which was related but different and Iplanen honestly had doubts that the Emperor was the Omnissiah. He did believe, most firmly, in the machine spirits and the divinity of knowledge, however.

Jan was seated in the first pew, his head bowed. In front of him was an alter with iconography that Iplanen did not recognize, a simple cross of black, lined with silver.

"Jan! Wake up, you have a visitor," the Necron said and Jan started, jerking his head up. To his deep amusement Iplanen realized he hadn't been praying, he had in fact been sleeping. He knew quite well that it was fairly common activity, even in the Imperial Cult.

"Ah, damn, I fell asleep," Jan muttered, rubbing his eyes. That was another thing, it was often unintentional as meditation became a doze. Then he looked at Iplanen and his eyes widened for a moment, his expression changing to one of surprise, followed by understanding. "Oh, I see. You're the pilot of the servo skull?" Iplanen nodded as Jan stood. "Perhaps we should take this somewhere else. Would you like some tea?"

"I would appreciate it." Tea was his favorite beverage. Jan smiled and they left the church, going to the barracks. They went to a private sitting room, although there was a small moment of confusion as Jan looked at the table and chairs, then at Iplanen.

"Ah, the chairs, I assume you don't use them?" His anatomy wouldn't allow for it and Iplanen nodded.

"I just lock my mechanisms in place." That served the same purpose as sitting. Jan chuckled softly as he began making the tea.

"That's exactly what the Necrons do, you know, lock their joints in place." Ah, really? "They can sit on chairs and sometimes do, but it's mainly for formal occasions and they don't really enjoy it. At best, they're neutral about it… I asked some of our pwi-Necrons and they say it's just objectively less comfortable."

"Interesting. It would be actively uncomfortable for me," Iplanen said as he moved the chair to the side, settling down beside the table. The table itself would be useful to hold the teacup. This small talk though, was like talking about the weather. Iplanen wanted to get to more important matters. He waited patiently for the tea to be done though. That was only polite.

When they both had steaming cups of tea, Iplanen brought up a more interesting subject.

"Forgive me, I know next to nothing about your people. What is the religion you follow?" That was a matter of some concern. He doubted it was remotely related to the Chaos Gods, the Necrons surely understood the dangers of that, but what was it? Jan's brows knit together for a moment before he sipped his tea.

"Christianity… it is a truly ancient religion, from ancient Terra. It is the reverence for God, the one God, the only God." Ah, that sounded promising. Pantheons always had the whiff of Chaos. "And his son, Jesus Christ… I truly do not want to proselytize. One thing about our religion is that we strongly do not believe in spreading our creed." Really? How exceedingly odd. "Not by words, at least. If others are moved by our deeds, our quiet charity and conduct, that is an excellent thing. But we do not actively spread the word of God, it is for others to find as they will."

"The Cult Mechanicus also does not actively recruit to the faith," Iplanen said and Jan's eyebrows knit together again for a moment. He clearly wanted to say something, but was holding back. "Yes? You do not have to worry about offending me." He knew how these humans treated their machine spirits. The clearly knew nothing of the Cult Mechanicus.

"Forgive me but you worship… machines? I am lost," Jan admitted and Iplanen was not surprised.

"We fundamentally believe that knowledge is the manifestation of divinity in the universe…" Iplanen quickly ran through the main tenants of the Cult Mechanicus, the belief in the Omnissiah, machine spirits and the motive force. Jan found it fascinating.

"So by these tenants, you must be avid seekers of knowledge? Inventors?" Iplanen paused at that. He… he knew it wasn't true.

"We are avid seekers of knowledge, it is true. But it pains me to admit that for a very long time, we have been consumed with dogma," he admitted. He was a great admirer of Cawl, something he also kept to himself. Iplanen strongly suspected that if the support of Guilliman ever faltered, Cawl and his unorthodox tech priests could meet a terrible end. They were not well liked and the hidebound elements of the Mechanicus had great power. "By and large, I would not say we are inventors." In fact, such things had been actively punished until recently. "Instead, we seek to re-acquire ancient wisdom, particularly in the form of STC fragments." An incredibly peculiar expression crossed over Jan's face before he tried to control it. Iplanen was taken aback but also fascinated. What did that reaction mean?

"Uh, yes, STC." Jan quickly moved on and Iplanen felt a bit frozen. That reaction to the mention of an STC… "My people really don't believe in machine spirits and would reject the entire notion as laughable, I'm afraid." Yes, he'd seen that. Iplanen wanted to question Jan about what he knew of STC, but held back. He instinctively felt that might lead Jan to end their conversation entirely. "Seeking knowledge, though, that is very highly thought of. Those with the intelligence and ability to master Necron technology are particularly prized." That reminded him.

"That is why you are a good candidate for biotransference?" Iplanen asked and Jan's expression became melancholy as he turned his gaze to his teacup.

"Yes, but also my age and status in life," Jan said quietly and Iplanen detected a great sorrow in him. "I have three children and I've outlived three wives." …Oh. "The drukhari, misfortune and illness… I have decided it's enough for me. I'm past that part of life." Jan took a slow, deliberate sip of his tea. "My children are all grown. That makes me an ideal candidate." That did make sense. The Cult Mechanicus did things differently – they grew children in artificial wombs, implanting them with knowledge and growing them to adolescence – but for a more organic lifestyle, continuance was vital.

"Jan, I will be blunt. I want to learn about Necron technology. How would I do so?" Iplanen asked. Jan paused for a moment, his eyebrows raising in surprise before his expression turned thoughtful.

"Well, it's simple really… go to Hope." Jan took a sip of his tea. "You could easily hitch a ride on one of our transports. But the problem is, once you go, you won't be allowed to come back." Ah. That did make sense, but it was daunting. Iplanen's thoughts went to Emerard. His best friend deserved warning, before he hopped onto a ship to go. "We can't risk this knowledge going to the Imperium."

"Even if I could bring them the secrets of an STC, it is unlikely they would have me back." That was the downside of the Inquisitions harshness. There was no path to redemption, so no reason to not go further, be it into Chaos or the Xenos. Iplanen was ready to walk a new path. "I will have to think on it." It was a great step to take. Still, Iplanen was sure of what his decision would eventually be. Not the least, because of the look on Jan's face when he'd mentioned STC.

What would be waiting on Hope for him?

Something about this isn't right.

pwi-Necron Valdar Toshka picked slowly through the surface of a lush and verdant world, his gauss flayer at the ready. He was part of a scouting team, trying to find planets that would be acceptable for colonization. He was specifically looking for worlds that had precious resources, and preferably were not outright Death Worlds. Some pretty marginal or straight up weird planets had made it on the list.

Valdar wasn't sure about this one though. Something about it was putting his back up, although at first glance it was a paradise. In fact, maybe that was it. It seemed entirely too good for them, in the wretched reaches of the Halo stars. This one was also closer to the Tau empire than he was comfortable with, closer to the Ultramarines too. Why was it unoccupied by humans or Tau?

What was the catch?

Well, part of the catch might have been the signs of past habitation. There was architecture present, mostly ancient statues. They were beautiful and depicted humanoids of surpassing beauty. The native vegetation loved these statues, cuddling them and coating them in thick moss. It often made it look like the statues were wearing clothes.

There were also ruined buildings. Valdar carefully examined them and came to the conclusion they were mind-numbingly old. They were covered in moss and vines to the extent that if he hadn't had a good eye for it, he might have missed they were structures at all. Valdar paused by one and carefully set down his gauss flayer so he could scrape off a section of moss. The material underneath… wasn't right. He tapped it with one finger, trying to figure it out. There was no grain, it wasn't wood, but it wasn't a metal he recognized -

"You are a thoughtful one." AH! Valdar scooped his gauss flayer up in the smoothest, fastest move he'd managed in his life. As he did, he castigated himself for setting it down at all. He held his fire, though, as he turned to see… what?

"Drukhari?" he said, but with a tone of deep uncertainty. They were as beautiful as the drukhari, to be sure, and clearly sprung from the same lineage. But they wore armor of beautiful colors, rather than the flat black the drukhari favored. Also, Valdar noted with a certain grimness, there were three of them, all equipped with elegant spears – no, wait, it was worse than that. Sensing movement behind him he glanced around and realized he was surrounded. How had they managed that without him noticing? Valdar had always thought of himself as a good scout, but he might have to reevaluate that. "I am so completely fucked," he muttered to himself in high Terran as he tried to reach his fellow scouts via interstitial message. Sisus? Casimir? Nothing but silence.

"Are you trying to reach these?" Two bodies were tossed onto the ground and Valdar almost dropped the gauss flayer again. He had the presence of mind to keep it, but switched to a one handed grip as he knelt beside his fallen friends. To his utter relief, they were still alive, if badly damaged. That was not an insignificant thing because this far away from any proper relays, they had no option for recall. Without the support structure of a proper Necron fleet, death was a permanent thing. He looked up from them to see the 'drukhari' regarding him thoughtfully. Then they spoke to each other, in a language he could not understand.

(they were remarking that he was certainly not a true Necron, to care so much about damaged comrades)

(and they were mostly right, although not entirely. But Necrons capable of such feeling were the exception, not the rule)

"This is our world, and that is all you need to know. We would kill you, but the Far-Seers have foretold that sending you back with a message would have better results. So, take your… friends. Leave this place, and do not return." Then they melted into the brush with a seamlessness that left Valdar in awe. Perhaps his skill wasn't at fault after all. Was that some kind of technology or were they just that good?

He couldn't carry Sisus and Casimir, though, so Valdar just waited patiently for their self-repair mechanisms to fix them up enough to walk. It took several hours and the first sign that they were coming back online was quiet swearing from Sisus. Casimir took it silently, as was his way.

"Drukhari sons of bitches…" Valdar shook his head.

"Those weren't drukhari." He was sure of that. What exactly they WERE, he wasn't sure, but they weren't dark eldar. Sisus muttered a few more curses, though, as he clambered unsteadily to his feet. Casimir was still not moving, except to take up a fetal position. That was an instinct from their lost humanity, but Valdar still found it alarming. "Casimir? You going to be okay?" He touched him on the shoulder.

"I… think so. Give me a bit." He was very quiet but Valdar was still relieved. That just meant Casimir was in pain, which could happen when Necrons took heavy enough injuries. Eventually he unfolded, a sign he was coming back together. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for. Let me help you." Valdar was no Technomancer but he could easily see Casimir had gotten the worst of it. He helped him to his feet and held him up a bit, one shoulder shoved under Casimir's armpit, his other hand holding his gauss flayer. Sisus was wavering like a drunk, but walking under his own power. They headed back to the shuttle, not bothering to hide their steps. As they went, though, Valdar thought about his friend's gauss flayers and knew he'd have to try to find them. They were missing and they didn't have backups.

Thankfully, it wasn't necessary. The eldar had thoughtfully dropped the two missing gauss flayers by the shuttle. Valdar wasn't going to thank them, exactly, but he did appreciate it. It made their exit more efficient, which was probably what was intended. As they left, Valdar was just thankful they were getting away alive.

He would pass word to Hope that this world was to be avoided.