First Contact

It was a sign of how dire the times were, Y'niri reflected, that she was forced to meet with lesser species such as these.

If one of her kindred had asked whether the times were dire for herself or the Empire, the answer would have been "yes." Dire for the latter, in as much that a group of bipeds had spent close to ten millennia expanding across the galaxy, before finally arriving in the galactic east. Dire for the former, in that of all the diplomats in all the worlds of all their empire, she was the one assigned to meet with them.

Worse still that it was on a mon-keigh space station rather than one of her own. Its sterile white halls reeked of chemicals. The stench of their sweat was impossible for their technology to remove, and her nose was under assault from more smells than there were stars in the galaxy. The artificial gravity felt off, the technology was frustratingly primitive, and what was worse, thinking machines were stationed at every corner, as she and her entourage were escorted to meet the mon-keigh diplomat.

Humiliating. And given that the mon-keigh had deigned to build thinking machines, more than a little disconcerting. Not that the aeldari had not used similar devices, using machines to wipe out whatever primitives challenged their supremacy of the galaxy for the last 65 million cycles, but still, concerning. More than one idiot race had been wiped out by its own creations, and one species whose name she dared not speak had converted themselves into machines. Fought a war against the aeldari, the scars of which remained on the galaxy even now.

"This way, ma'am."

Ma'am, she thought, at the primitive before her (and below her, given the differences in height. How quaint.

Still, she and her entourage kept walking, sharing thoughts between themselves as easily as they drew breath. If the minds of the aeldari were blazing infernos, lanterns shining as bright in the Warp as in real-space, the mon-keigh's minds were but candles. Indicators of latent psychic talent that might emerge into something greater given the slow march of undirected evolution, but that was a road longer than the width of the galaxy, and one that she doubted this species had the time or patience to tread. The aeldari were the children of gods, and while one set of gods had faded into galactic history, the aeldari gods were very much in residence.

It had caused her no shortage of amusement to learn that the mon-keigh tolerated no shortage of gods in their nascent empire. Gods that, as far as she could tell, either stemmed from their homeworld on the far side of the galaxy, or gods that had been conjured up over their first 15,000 years of space travel. Gods and faiths that had developed in isolation, along with the cultures that birthed them. Gods that even the mon-keigh had to know were not real, but worshipped all the same.

We should be done with this.

Y'niri kept walking, even as Elran sent her a thought.

An order to our ship, and this station is naught but dust.

That, Y'niri didn't disagree with.

We would lose more in the long run.

Mathanus, however, clearly did.

Is that fear? Elran asked, not even bothering to hide his thoughts.

We negotiate peace, the mon-keigh destroy themselves. We need not intervene.

Yet we are here.

Are you so devoted to pleasure, Elran, that you cannot abide a single diversion?

I intended to sample every pleasure of the universe. This, I find, is not to my liking.

Y'niri's facial muscles twitched. To a lesser species, it would have been imperceptible, had they even been looking for it. Indeed, with their yapping jaws, dull eyes, and idiotic smiles, the mon-keigh were scarce more subtle than the orks. Beasts with sufficient intelligence and culture to aspire to improve themselves, but beasts all the same. Creatures that some aeldari had taken to hunting for sport.

She briefly wondered if the diplomat leading him through the station knew it. Wondered how it would feel. Rage, no doubt, likely fear. Emotions that would still pale in comparison to the depth and wonder of her peoples' psyche.

"In here," said the alien in front of them, using a palm-scanner to open an iron door, which led to yet another white room, in a space station that had been nothing but white rooms. "The commander will see you now."

Y'niri kept her mouth shut, in a vain attempt to evade the alien's stench. He meant well, in his own clumsy way, she could sense that much. Perhaps he had a long life ahead of him – the reports that had reached her indicated that the mon-keigh had a natural lifespan of around 70 years, but who could live for thousands with the appropriate technology and gene editing. In a sense, their lifespans even rivalled that of aeldari themselves.

But then, she reminded herself as she walked into the meeting room, that was not the natural order of things. Aeldari were children of the gods, and as immortal as the gods themselves. While their bodies would inevitably give out over time, they would only be reborn in new bodies, their souls eternal. The mon-keigh, with their imperfect bodies and feeble spirits were fated to die, and meet death's infinitude.

She almost felt sorry for them.

Almost.

So we wait? Elran asked as the door hissed behind them.

For the commander, yes, Y'niri answered.

I could tear each of their minds apart in less time than it takes to arrive.

That, Y'niri reflected, might have saved them time. Certainly it would save her nostrils. Regardless, her two companions took their places on the far side of the room as she sat at the desk in its centre.

She would have preferred to stand. Her kind was taller than the mon-keigh, and height, in its primitive way, was an asset. The instinctive belief common in most primitives that greater height meant greater power, because usually, it was correct.

She had nothing to fear with these negotiations, but still…

The door hissed open, and in walked the mon-keigh commander. "Good evening," he said.

Y'niri remained silent. He smelt better than most of these aliens, yet an alien he remained. But, as he took the seat opposite her, flanked by two mon-keigh with primitive weapons and armour, she took the time to study him.

Thoroughly unremarkable, by most accounts. Two eyes, two arms, two legs. There was no shortage of sapient species that drifted towards bipedalism, and many a farseer had speculated that it was due to it being a naturally advantageous form. The necrontyr had possessed it, the Old Ones had created the aeldari and krorks in such a form, and what little information the aeldari had on their progenitors indicated they had been much the same – larger, less graceful, their mental might making up for any physical deficiencies, but still, bipedal.

Specifically, the male (or so she assumed) before her was of the species known as humanity, which in turn was one of many names they used to refer to themselves (mankind, Terrans, Homo sapiens, which hilariously implied wisdom within their race), but mattered not. They were still mon-keigh – one of countless species in the galaxy worthy of the name.

And yet, this close to the primitive, Y'niri's brow twitched. Again, far too subtle for the alien's undeveloped eyes to pick up, but now that she was face to face…well, she was not the first of her kind to note that this new, semi-barbarous species was more similar to their own than any thus encountered. Their bodies stockier and shorter, their ears flatter, their hair thicker, their biology replete with vestigial organs rather than the perfection of directed evolution, but still, the physical similarities were remarkable. Of all the species the aeldari had encountered in across the galaxy's breadth, none had ever been as similar in appearance as the hairless apes of Terra.

And she had no doubt that in the eyes of the mon-keigh before her, the similarities were as apparent to him as well. Brown eyes rather than her green, his skin a brown-black rather than the pale complexion most aeldari shared, but still…

Well, he'd brought with him a pile of documents. She looked at his hands as he unbound them – four fingers, one thumb. Exactly like her own kind…

"You didn't bring anything?" he asked.

He must have been referring to her lack of documentation. In response, she tapped the side of her head.

"Ah, of course. Eidetic memory, am I right?"

She didn't know. She didn't care. It was tempting not to break the alien's neck and apply the warrior's blade as opposed to the diplomat's dagger.

"Anyway, I'm Commander Abnett On behalf of Avernus Sector Command, I-"

"…know who you are," Y'niri interrupted. It was bad enough to use her tongue to speak, let alone in the mon-keigh's language, but she had no interest in formalities. "Sooner or later, you will die, and I have no reason to tolerate this any further than necessary, so I would prefer to set terms and be done with it."

"You speak for the Eldar Empire then?"

"…the empire has placed its faith in me." And punished me through this humiliation.

"Of course," said the mon-keigh. He ran his fingers on the table, and a three-dimensional map of the galaxy appeared between them. "To business then, and in the future, pleasure."

She would have liked nothing better than to fry his brain, but the mon-keigh was wearing a psi-screen. Not nearly powerful enough to withstand the psychic assault of a farseer, but powerful enough to withstand her own telepathy. The mon-keigh were ignorant, but they weren't completely stupid.

The mon-keigh tapped some more parts of the table and spoke. "Ross Abnett, commanding officer of Avernus Station, date is July thirty-first, year 23,087. Negotiations commenced with aeldari ambassador, Y'niri, at zero-three-zero-two, station time."

It gave her some…gratitude (or crude approximation thereof) that the mon-keigh had bothered to learn her name. But the mon-keigh's tongue she suffered nonetheless, as he yapped on using his primitive orifice to explain what she already knew.

The sphere of human influence was spreading. For 15,000 years, they'd kept to their own section of the galaxy before the development of warp drive, and were now expanding across space like a plague. A scattering of worlds in various stages of development, some completely self-sufficient, some reliant on trade to survive. Worlds well protected from the depredations of orks or other insignificant lifeforms, but would fall in less than a cycle if the empire dedicated itself to it.

"And thus, we're here," said Abnett as his hologram depicted the aeldari's own sphere of influence, and the human worlds scattered along its frontier. "First contact was made a year ago, and after a year of negotiations…well, here we are."

Y'niri decided not to inform him that the aeldari had been well aware of the mon-keigh for millennia. Their homeworld, a rare jewel in the cosmos, unravaged by the calamity of the War in Heaven, one that had given rise to primitive tree beasts scarce different from the man in front of her. As far as the mon-keigh knew, their expansion across the galaxy had resulted in first contact with the aeldari, and true to form, they had immediately moved to engage in diplomacy. Trade, even.

"My superiors on Terra are still interested in pursuing diplomatic relations," Abnett said, as if reading her own mind (an impossibility, but her lips twitched in amusement at the thought). "We understand your position is isolation, but we-"

"We have no interest in treating with you," Y'niri said. "You are free to blunder across the galaxy, our worlds are our own."

"I understand that, but-"

"No, mon-keigh, you do not. You have nothing to offer us. You are a primitive species who will fade in time, while my kind remains in paradise. Stick to your place, and you have nothing to fear. Forget it, and in my own lifetime, the galaxy will forget you even existed."

The mon-keigh's face was like the blazing of a supernova to Y'niri's eyes. He was trying to hide his annoyance, but even unable to read his mind, Y'niri could read his emotions. Glancing back at Elran and Mathanus, they were unable to hide their amusement. More than one species had attempted to entreat with the aeldari. More than one species had been wiped out in annoyance.

"I understand you use machines to fight your wars," the mon-keigh murmured.

"Yes," Y'niri said (it wasn't a secret, she saw no reason to hide the fact). "We use machines, so we may be untroubled by such activities. You use machines while you attempt to build yourself an empire worthy of the name."

"Technically, the Human Sphere isn't an empire."

"No. A true empire would not be spread as thin, nor waste time with species beneath you."

"That's a bit harsh, isn't it?"

Y'niri, no idea what the mon-keigh was playing at, remained silent.

"Very well," said the commander. "I can see that you won't budge. I'll send message back to Terra, you'll send your message back to your superiors."

Y'niri nodded. What the mon-keigh's superiors thought of her refusal to treat with them, she had little concern with. The sooner she left this station, the sooner she could devote her time to more fulfilling pursuits. Pleasures that the mon-keigh could scarce imagine.

"But first," said the commander, "an offering, if I may?"

"That is not necessary, mon-keigh."

"I insist," the alien said, a small smile upon his lips that he must have imagined was subtle.

The guns carried by his soldiers, however, were less so.

Send but a thought, and we will rescue you.

We should kill them all now. Be done with it.

And jeopardize peace?

My family would enjoy such sport.

Y'niri let her companions bicker from their shuttle in the docking bay – a wraithbone construct that was their one sanctuary from the smells of mon-keigh civilization. She had no doubt that the commander was aware that she was in contact with her fellows, or at least, that she had the means to do so. Had no doubt that at least some of the mon-keigh were aware how hopelessly outclassed they were by the empire they had bumped into.

Still, he led her through the station's hallways, passing one thinking machine after another. Constructs of iron, a mere shadow of the necrons of old, but deadly in their own way. The mon-keigh used thinking machines in every aspect of their lives, as surely as the aeldari pursued pleasure in theirs. Yet even they had to know that against the might of the Old Ones' chosen, they were specks of dust to a star.

Still, she let the commander lead her on, if only out of morbid curiosity. He used the palm scanner at a blast door that was just tall enough to accommodate her, and walked in. It might have struck a mon-keigh's eyes as interesting – to see this man clad in a blue uniform with medals and sigils, standing next to this tall, thin, human-but-not-quite alien, wearing a suit more advanced than even mon-keigh power armour. They might have wondered why the room they entered in was naught but a small, black cubicle, barely large enough to hold the two.

"Impressive, mon-keigh. Is this to be my prison?"

The commander ignored her. "Vee, initiate manifold sequence."

"Initiating."

Vee, Y'niri assumed, must have been a thinking program. Quaint technology that the aeldari had no use for, as their minds were sharper than even the most advanced mon-keigh supercomputer. Yet even she was impressed by what happened next.

The room folded outward, then folded again. And again. And again. Lights came on from within the folds, as it grew larger and wider than the width of the station. Quickly, Y'niri realized that she was beholding space-folding technology. A twisting of space-time which meant that the room they were in was larger than the space station containing it.

It was a pale imitation of what the aeldari could achieve, yet it was an achievement that few species had matched. Whatever talk the mon-keigh had made of an offering, it was clear that this was an attempt to impress his alien visitor.

Still, if the mon-keigh was expecting praise, she would not give it.

"This is the station's cultural centre," the mon-keigh explained. "A collection of history, if you will. Artifacts from over five million worlds, most human, some alien."

Cubicles raised from the floor, depicting all manner of ephemera. Texts written in paper, of all things. Paintings that an aeldari child could surpass. Most of them depicted mon-keigh – replicas of their art on Terra, she supposed, or perhaps originals taken from their colony worlds.

Some, on the other hand, were alien. Various carvings of various gods. Of creatures born of the Warp. Some surpassed the mon-keigh's attempts at art, some did not. She saw a donarathi jar. A greyva spear. A collection of jokaero tools, and even parchments written in one of the languages of the malgreth.

None of it impressed her. The effort, in a way, did. If a species could be judged by its art, the mon-keigh were lacking, but still, she could see them for what they were. Inquisitive. Open-minded. A species that aspired for peace and unity, even if their flawed natures would ever deny it.

"We would be honoured if you would leave us with something," the mon-keigh said. "A trinket, perhaps, to commemorate this day."

Y'niri had no interest in such a thing. What she did have interest in one of the countless displays were two hanging skulls. Larger than even the mon-keigh's head, but just as empty. Leering at the world around them.

Moving with speed and grace the mon-keigh could not match, she arrived behind the plexiglass, her eyes wide, her voice laced with psychic energy.

"Gork and Mork," she whispered.

"Ah, yes, the deities of the orks," the commander said as he walked over. "I think this was taken from Beta Aurigae?"

"Origai Beta," came a voice.

"Ah, yes. My apologies."

Y'niri was tempted to kill him then and there to save herself the idiocy of his yammering orifice. Instead, keeping her emotions in check as best she could, small sparks appearing in the air around her as psychic energy manifested, she looked at the mon-keigh and whispered, "you have entreated with orks?"

"As best as we are able. They have no interest in diplomatic relations, but we have no trouble keeping them contained. Our anthropologists believe that if we can crack their belief system, we might be able to establish common ground."

"Listen to me, Commander," Y'niri whispered. "You do not entreat with orks. You find them, and you kill them."

The mon-keigh frowned. "That's a bit extreme, isn't it?"

Y'niri nearly screamed. This…idiot, telling her what and was not extreme? His species hadn't even emerged from the trees by the time the galaxy had been ravaged. They had not even existed by the conclusion of the War in Heaven, nor had they watched as the krorks had devolved into the brutish, savage beasts they were now. The aeldari had, however, and over millions of years, learnt two things about the devolved, horrific form of life their former allies had become. That if you saw orks, you killed them, and that it was impossible to kill them all.

She had no interest in sharing the history of the greenskins with a mon-keigh, but did have interest in preserving the status quo. So she imparted what wisdom she could.

"Mon-keigh, if you listen to but one thing I utter in these halls, hear this. The orks are nothing but a plague on the galaxy. Where they tread, death follows. If allowed to tread too long, more orks join the path, and more death results. To think they can be met with anything but force of arms is naivete that even a species such as yourself should be above. If ever you find orks under the glow of any star, you should exterminate them and be done with it."

The mon-keigh's face gave Y'niri answer in of itself.

"No," he said.

Still, he insisted on using his orifice.

"No?" she asked – she again wished she didn't need to use this primitive means of communication, but fate was a whimsical creature.

"No," he repeated. "We would never do that. And if your kind would do so, my opinion of you is even lower."

Y'niri's cheeks tingled. The mon-keigh…thinking low…of her?

"The orks are brutish," continued the mon-keigh. "We both agree on that. But that doesn't give us the right to do any more than is necessary. We have made peace with countless alien species, we have used diplomacy instead of war. And the orks, whatever you may think of them, have the right to exist as much as you or I."

Had she been with one of her own kind, Y'niri might have been willing to engage in philosophical debate. Some aeldari spent centuries honing their craft, and could debate a single subject for years at a time, unencumbered by time or frailty. But against the madness of the alien before her, she had nothing to say.

And he, in turn, apparently considered the matter closed. Instead, he said something to his thinking program, and yet another cubicle emerged from the floor, pushing through folded space and matter with ease. In it was a small wooden box, which he handed to her.

"A gift," he said, as he handed it to her.

"You have nothing we need, mon-keigh."

"Are gifts based on need?"

Y'niri supposed they weren't, but just as the mon-keigh had nothing the aeldari needed, they had nothing that they wanted, either. Still, she took the box in her hands. Short of killing the alien, this was the path that would have her off the station the fastest.

"The box is made of redwood, taken from Terra itself," said the mon-keigh.

"And inside?" Y'niri murmured. She tried to open it, but the latches refused to budge. Instead, turning the box around to face the bottom, she saw a series of numbers.

"The universal language," the commander said. "And in it, the reward."

Y'niri, smiling ever so faintly, murmured, "well played, human."

It didn't take her long to open the box, but it still took longer than she'd anticipated.

Elran and Mathanus flew the shuttle back to their diplomatic vessel, Grace of Isha, while Y'niri fiddled with the trinket. She knew that the humans used a base ten mathematical system, but aside from that, there was no indication as to what code would open the trinket. There were infinite combinations that could be used, and while Y'niri had infinity to look forward to, there were more pleasurable pursuits to be had.

A lesser species might have given up then and there, or turned it over to one of their scholars or scientists. But examining the engravings on the box that looped in on themselves, Y'niri realized that they corresponded to Berendar – the Flow of Creation. What the mon-keigh called the Golden Mean, found in countless lifeforms on countless planets. Even worlds not born from the actions of the Old Ones had given rise to life that followed it. If mathematics were as close as there was to a universal language in the galaxy, then the Golden Mean was as close as there was to a universal script.

So she typed in the numbers, following the mathematical formula, until at last, the box opened.

Is your toy amusing you? Elran asked.

She ignored the jibe and instead looked at the reward – a single crystal. Taking it to the shuttle's scanner, it was confirmed that its dimensions were mathematically perfect, and that like the aeldari, it was used as a data storage module. A more primitive version of the aeldari's own technology, but operating on the same principles of data being stored in lattice. For a species without any significant psychic abilities, she supposed the humans would have to push their technology to the limit. There were tales of constructs used on their worlds that contained the sum total of their knowledge – means for their colonists to build anything out of anything. Trinkets for the aeldari, who wanted for nothing, but still…

As the shuttle docked, she had its systems interact with the crystal. Before long, she would have to hand it to her superiors, who would no doubt see it as naught but a trinket, but until then…

Holographic images played before her. A world of endless deserts, of verdant forests, of blue skies, of seas a darker colour. A world of shining cities, orbital plates hanging in the sky. Above them, a single sun and moon. Terra, she quickly realized. A world almost as beautiful as her own.

The images faded and were replaced by an alien text. Having already studied the languages of humanity, Y'niri was able to read it without issue.

IF YOU ARE READING THIS

YOU KNOW US, OR HAVE

THE MEANS TO DO SO

YOU SPEAK OUR LANGUAGE

OR THE LANGUAGE OF THE UNIVERSE

KNOWLEDGE, CURIOSITY, VIRTUES SHARED

OUR KNOWLEDGE IS YOURS

IN THIS GIFT, WE PRESENT

THE BEST OF WHAT WE OFFER

TAKE OUR HAND OR REFUSE IT

THE CHOICE IS YOURS

IT SHALL BE RESPECTED

WITH OPEN ARMS, WE

WISH TO MEET YOU

WE, SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF TERRA

SCIENTIA SIT POTENTIA

The shuttle docked, and the image was replaced by an interface divided into numerous categories – history, science, art, literature…she didn't doubt the humans would keep some secrets, for they were certainly more advanced than many of the alien species they sought kinship with, but still…

Y'niri?

It was foolish, she thought. Like a child offering a flower to an elder. To Isha, even, plucked from her own garden. And yet, it was…humbling, she supposed. That of the billions of aeldari who drew breath, it was she who had first beheld this gift.

Y'niri?

She deactivated it and looked at her companions. Elran was unable to hide his amusement, Mathanus unable to hide his contempt.

You are playing with mon-keigh toys?

A flash from her eyes and twitch from her lips gave him all the answer she needed, as she placed the crystal back in the box. Soon, it would be in the hands of those better qualified to judge if humanity had anything worth offering.

Likely, the answer would be no.

But perhaps in a few thousand years, well, who could say?

A few thousand years later, there was no answer but the warp storms. Of famine, pestilence, and strife.

Long Night for Man, Twilight of the Eldar, and the laughing of Thirsting Gods.

A/N

So, to be clear, I'm not sure how well this aligns with canon, if at all. I've encountered different claims on what may or may not have happened between humanity and the aeldari before the Age of Strife - I've seen some claim that the aeldari just ignored them, others that the aeldari easily fought them off, but nothing definitive. Maybe there's a concrete answer somewhere, but whatever the case, drabbled this up.