Commodore Lysander looked up as the doors to the bridge opened, and for the second time that day, the Emperor returned through it.
'What was it this time?' He wondered, the metal components of his cogitation augmetics sticking out the back of his head clicking as he thought.
It was unusual for the Master of Mankind to be so distracted. The first time he disappeared, he caused a minor panic among the bridge crew by teleporting mid-explanation of the battle plans with the Eldar; only the calm presence of his Custodes guards picking up the discussion where he left off restoring order from the sudden departure.
The second time, he excused himself politely before storming off the bridge through the door. A rather louder-than-normal crackling sound from the energies of teleportation followed, suggesting a great deal of uncharacteristic ire from their liege.
"How goes the journey, Commodore?"
"Very well, your grace." He answered, not wanting to further irritate the Emperor. "Our recovery teams from the support squadron, Nightingale. have reported that all the gene tech those Xenobiologis were hoarding was intact; much of it unused; pristine condition I've heard our boys say."
"And the Tech Priests themselves?"
"None put up a struggle, but I fear they may be less than sufficient for your plans. Completely unresponsive the lot of them."
"Mind death…" The Emperor sighed as his eyes turned to the holomap in front of them. "How troublesome."
"If I may…" Lysander licked his lips nervously. "Did the Xeno your grace brought aboard cause all that?"
"It is an extraordinary member of its species." The Emperor confirmed, as he scrolled through the various star-charts of local systems. "Others would not be able to replicate the same feat."
"I do not doubt that My Lord. If the other Eldar raiding parties we destroyed had those capabilities, we would have taken far more casualties during our operations." Lysander licked his lips nervously again. "However, I am worried about what would happen if she became… uncooperative. Eldar have a nasty tendency to be unpredictable. I've met some of their traders, quite good at their craft; always wily enough to run off with the better deal they are." He said with a chuckle, then the sparkle in his eye was replaced with a dark look. "Then there are those… cruel beasts with fair skin." Looking up at the Emperor, Lysander raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "I was wondering which one she was."
"It…" The Emperor stressed the word. "is neither and both." The Emperor closed the star-map, and turned towards him with a reassuring smile. "However, if you are worried for your safety, trust in me and my vision. Her voice waylays the idly curious, the unprepared, and the unfocussed. It should only be a distraction to those with purpose, and conviction."
"If you say so, My Lord." Lysander nodded, not really understanding what he had just heard. However, it was always best to accept what the Master of Mankind said while he was smiling. "At the very least, it was a wise decision to hold her here, on the Bucephelus. Most of the systems can be switched over to automated control, if there were such an incident. A loss of a significant portion of the crew would not decrease her combat readiness."
"I would deal with it before such a thing could happen, Commodore." The Emperor said, putting a reassuring hand on the much smaller man's shoulder. "I do not spend the men and women who follow me and my vision lightly; including yourself"
"Thank you My Lord." Lysander returned the familiar gesture with a grateful bow, before clearing his throat. "Returning to my report. We have the required amounts of gene tech we sought out, but not enough Tech Priests specialized in gene-crafting to use it. That last planet was the only enclave that was completely cut off from Mars that we could have enlisted from."
"Do not worry, Commodore. Our path remains unchanged. Humanity's future is assured."
The Commodore chuckled.
The bravado.
The confidence.
It was an act he also put on before his own crewmen, especially before battle; when they all knew a wayward torpedo or plasma strike could vent all of them out of the ship and into space. But that was the job of a leader. To inspire men, and allow them to reach greater heights, even when disaster was just moments away.
"Of course, My Lord." Lysander bowed again, then caught sight of a tall feminine figure with pointed ears.
"My Lord… is that?"
"The Eldar captive? Yes it is."
"This is quite… unusual." An Eldar on the bridge of the Emperor's ship? Very few were allowed on the Bucephelus in the first place. What some of the provincial governors back on Terra would give for such a privilege.
Lysander himself had received many grandiose gifts with hushed requests for a private tour of the ship when it was docked back on Terra. Of course, Lysander wasn't one to betray the Emperor's trust. He wasn't that ungrateful, or foolish.
"It has offered to act as an ambassador to its species." The Emperor lowered his head slightly, as if to whisper something to him. "As I said before, if the Eldar can be dealt with peacefully, then more of our ships can be saved."
"I'll be sure to tell the commanders of all the escorts who volunteered, My Lord. They should find gratitude in your graciousness." Lysander whispered back.
"Do not be hasty, Commodore." The Emperor admonished, returning upright again. "There is no guarantee this will work. However, our operations should be able to end today, if all goes according to our plan."
"If you say so, My Lord." Commodore Lysander turned to leave the bridge, only to have the Emperor's hand rest on his shoulder again.
"Speak to the Eldar. I wish to have you discuss the last parts of our plan with the ambassador."
Lysander raised an eyebrow. "Would that be wise, My Lord?"
"Miscommunications can happen, but they can also be prevented." The Emperor said, releasing his shoulder. "Better to explain what will happen if it fails, than have it surprised."
"As you will, My Lord." Lysander nodded.
Speaking to an Eldar… Well, he hoped his oratory skills hadn't gone too rusty.
Always had to be careful around those fair Xenos. Too many times he'd seen merchants and rogue traders pulling their hair out after finding out they'd been handed the short end of a bargain by them. Then again, he'd seen those same traders pulling their hair out after dealing with the Emperor's own bureaucrats. Some people were just bad at their jobs.
"And…" Lysander sneaked a glance at the Eldar to make sure her attention was elsewhere. "what should I call 'it'?"
His Lord may not fear annoying the Eldar, but he would rather not ruin relations before they began. Especially if they were with women.
Quite frankly, human women held about as much of a grudge as the Eldar did from his experience.
His wife never let him forget that one time he forgot their anniversary. Every Vox-call the first thing she'd ask him was what the date was over on the ship. Then she'd glower at him like a bleeding Arbitrator until he answered how many days were left until their next anniversary.
It was all smiles and charms if he got it right, but get it wrong and he wouldn't hear the end of it. A full 45 minute Vox-call provided by the Emperor himself filled with nothing but sarcasms and sourness.
What was especially mortifying was that he'd often find a note on his chair with the correct number of days every time he got it wrong.
Lysander shook himself out of his self-pity. His personal troubles already bothered the Emperor enough as it was.
"Catumen." The Emperor replied. "It means ambassador in their language."
"I see. Quite… descriptive." Lysander sighed.
Well, the Master of Mankind really wasn't going to be much help smoothing things over with the Eldar. He'd just caught a rather nasty look coming from her in their direction.
"Well then, I shall do my best to communicate with the Eldar, My Lord." Lysander saluted. "Wish me luck."
"We make our own luck Lysander." The Emperor replied, returning the salute.
"Using my own words against me? Goodness, have I gotten that old?"
"You are still as young as when we first met in my eyes."
"Spoken from the lips of an immortal such as yourself, I do not know whether to be flattered or depressed." Lysander chuckled. "By your leave, My Lord."
"Granted."
Lysander turned towards the Eldar. Quite frankly, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. If he didn't love his wife already, and was another 50 years younger, he might have been smitten by her.
Sadly, her smooth face was very obviously displeased. Slightly unusual for the Eldar, as the ones he met wouldn't have allowed such emotions to show; either leaving the premises, or shooting whatever caused them the displeasure before showing it on their face.
They usually carried themselves with an air of haughty confidence. This one seemed more down to earth, or haggard; if that was even a look possible for a species that looked so artistically built. Perhaps it was the simple shift she wore, or the lack of footwear that gave that impression.
"Catumen." He addressed the Eldar, causing its silvery eyes to turn down towards him. "I am Commodore Lysander of the Bucephelus; the Emperor's flagship, and temporary commander of the squadron Dawnbreaker." The Eldar continued to stare down at him silently, whether it was incensed at being reduced to a role, or there was something wrong with his pronunciation, he couldn't tell. In fact, he couldn't tell at all what the Eldar was thinking at the moment; like looking at the frozen features of a great marble sculpture.
"I have been tasked with informing you of our plan of engagement. I understand that My Lord has informed you of what they have done, and that they can no longer be permitted to continue."
The Eldar blinked once, and then spoke in a soft voice that took away the stiffness in his shoulders, and slight pain in his back.
"Your master has made me aware of that."
Lysander felt like he could hear the warbling of birds, and the rushing of small creeks. A phantom wind blew across his face, and he felt like lying down for a moment.
The Commodore shook his head. 'An extraordinary member of its species indeed.' He thought to himself.
Eldar voices always rang with a melodious song at every intonation, but this was something quite different. Their song was always alien, a clear reminder of a beautiful yet marked difference in their species.
The song in this Eldar, this Catumen was very different. It was one he could understand, which should have been impossible for a Xeno coming from an alien world.
Perhaps the Emperor's title for her was not as demeaning as he first thought. No creature would find her voice alien, or unnatural. An important skill for an ambassador.
Lysander closed his eyes, and repeated the Emperor's orders over and over in his mind. A tactic he often fell back on when missions went belly up, and battleplans went astray.
'Remember the Emperor's orders, and their meaning. What does he want you to do?' He asked himself.
His orders were to discuss the last parts of the plan with the Xeno before him.
His orders were to ensure there was no misunderstanding between them.
His orders were to make sure she would understand what would happen if she failed to convince the pirates to disarm themselves.
Lysander opened his eyes. What felt like minutes was but a single blink, an advantage of having a cogitation augment implanted directly into the brain.
Whether intentionally or accidentally, talking with this Catumen was dangerous. Given time, he could see himself relaxing around this creature, perhaps even hold amicable feelings towards it. However, to do that was to betray the Emperor, and all he had done. No man can serve two masters, and it was humanity's turn to rule the stars; not the Eldar. This operation was but one small stepping stone in the way of the Emperor's path. If the lives and resources of the squadron he led could be saved, then this Catumen had worth, otherwise it was an ever present threat to all who spoke to it. A threat he was sure to inform the rest of the squadron about.
Lysander sighed internally. It would have been far easier if the Emperor simply explained to him verbally that it was a threat, but he could understand why he had chosen to throw him before this Xeno. Words alone could not explain why such a calming creature was so dangerous.
Now... how in the devil was he going to explain this to the other commanders and captains of all the other ships?
Aware of the hidden danger of this Catumen, it was now his duty to relay that to those under his command, and at the very least submit a report to his peers when he returned to Terra. Master of Mankind indeed, what a slave driver the Emperor was.
Straightening his posture, and hardening his tone, partially from the growing headache of figuring out what to say to his other service-members; Lysander continued.
"The fleet of these raiders will be destroyed. Whether it be a controlled decommissioning upon their surrender, or by battle."
The Eldar blinked slowly, already aware of this detail.
"In the event these raiders surrender their vessels, we will need to determine where they disembark. I understand you have already chosen a planet for them, but if you have a particular location of said planet in mind to deposit them, we are willing to assist in getting them there."
A slight tilt of the head caused strands of golden hair to shift, exposing the slender neck, and thin shoulders beneath them.
"I do not know the names humans may have given to the places on my people's worlds."
Lysander quickly turned away from the Eldar, instead focussing on operating the holomap before him.
"Do not worry. Even with our quaint technology by your standards, we do have the ability to communicate with more than just words." Activating it, he brought up an image of the planet. "If you could point on the holomap where you would prefer them to land, we can position our ship to meet them at that location."
The Catumen looked at the holomap, then into the distance behind him; at the portside of the ship, the side facing the planet they were orbiting. Silvery eyes seemed to glow softly for an instant, before she turned back to the holomap and pointed to a continuous line of valleys and gorges; as if some one had taken the crust of the planet in two hands and shoved it together.
"Here."
"Thank you." Lysander had to tear his eyes away from the thin soft looking finger, pointing at the holomap. The feeling was strange; completely unlike the lust and love he had for his wife when they first met. However, at the same time, looking at that finger or any part of the Catumen made him feel wistful; a long forgotten longing that confused him, of lost security and warmth.
"Now, I will discuss our plan of action for parlaying with these raiders." Focussing on operating the holomap again, Lysander brought up a tactical map of the planet's solar system. "Our Emperor has offered to contact the pirates through the Warp using his… unique abilities."
Bringing up an image of the ship they were on, Lysander positioned it slightly off from where the Catumen had pointed.
"The Bucephelus will position herself here, in geosynchronous orbit a few degrees in the direction of the planet's rotation away from the point you have requested. Once the Emperor has contacted the pirates, we will remain here; alone. All of the Eldar pirates avoid systems with superior numbers of orbital or interstellar military assets. In order to ensure the pirates do not run from us, we will knowingly put ourselves at risk to ensure they do not run away immediately."
Turning to the Eldar, Lysander did his best to fix it with a grim stare.
"However, My Lord does not do this lightly. In the event your attempts at parlay fail, the Bucephelus is also the bait in our trap to destroy all of them in one battle."
A push of the button caused several dozen ships to appear. Two about half the size of the Bucephelus were positioned on either side of the flagship, while the others formed two curved planes opposite each other, like the walls of a tunnel, or the webbing of a net.
"If any hostile action is perceived from your people, the rest of the Dawnbreaker squadron will immediately exit from Warpspace around the pirate ships; surrounding them. Immediately afterwards, the Emperor will disrupt local Warp space, trapping all of us here; limiting all ships to only sub-light speed travel. We will continue firing at the pirate fleet until all of them are either destroyed, or have gone to ground on the planet below. Once all ships are eliminated, ground forces will be deployed to ensure any ships that have reached the planet surface are decommissioned, permanently. You may join the ground teams at this time to parlay with the survivors. If they surrender, the Emperor has promised to allow them to live on the planet. If they do not, I am afraid to say that we will be forced to take all measures necessary to ensure this pirate threat never returns."
Lysander looked at the Catumen out of the corner of his eye.
Eldar traders valued their kin greatly, and a threat against one usually ended up in a concerted effort of many often seemingly unrelated Xeno parties ending the offender; whether this was through economics or by the blade was a matter of mood for the Eldar. The pirates also treated their kin, or at least their bodies, with some degree of reverence. No Eldar corpses were ever found at the raiding sites, even though there were crystalized pools of blood large enough to suggest at least some of the Eldar had been fatally wounded during their raids.
He expected ire, or at the very least sorrow at his words from the Catumen, but instead it was a familiar look of grimness that he associated more with humans than the emotional and sensitive Eldar that looked back at him.
"Do what you must, and I will do what I can."
It was a tired voice that replied, and he heard the great creaking of ancient trees; swaying of forest branches.
Guilt tugged at his heart strings, like he had disappointed someone who had trusted him a great deal.
Lysander accessed his augmetics, and reviewed images of what they had found in the remains of the Eldar vessels and the habitation centers that they had found ransacked. Normally, such images were unhelpful, only serving to generate excess bloodlust and ire. One needed a clear head to manage a ship. However, he needed that anger to continue. Without it, he was afraid of this creature before him.
Even though it posed no threat to him, he feared it. He feared disappointing it; of not fulfilling its expectations.
Slowly, the righteous anger generated from the memories of the pirates' cruelty charred any feeling of guilt inside him, replacing it with a black smoldering rage.
Whatever sympathies this creature felt for its kin, those deeds could not be forgiven. It was only the mercy of the Emperor, and his want to protect his people and ships from unnecessary conflict that spared the lives of those Xenos.
Letting a short breath to calm himself from his self-induced fury, Lysander turned off the holomap.
"Do you have any further questions regarding our plan?"
"No. You may return to your master."
Lysander raised an eyebrow. There were a lot of questions he would be asking if he were in her position.
How much food would be given to those who surrendered?
What sort of garrison would be left to watch over them?
What would happen if the Eldar pirates broke their word, and returned to the stars to raid again?
All very important questions that should have popped up immediately. Was it truly safe to trust this Eldar, after all?
"They are my people." The Catumen turned to look at him, and he felt his spine go rigid as its silvery eyes met his. "They cannot break an oath they make with me, and I will provide all that is necessary for them."
Pure unadulterated truth rang in her voice, and his skin tightened forming gooseflesh on his neck and back. Old memories of when he had first met the Emperor resurfaced; as a golden being of fiery steel in golden armor standing at the forefront of a legion of spear wielding giants, cutting away at the armies of dark horrors and gene-abominations from the end of Old Night.
"Trust in me, and trust in yourselves!" The Emperor's voice rang out across the battlefield. "Fight together, and we shall banish these creatures back to the darkness they belong!" His fiery sword struck down a hulking 5 limbed monster of flesh and metal; cutting its body in two, incinerating both halves. "May fortune favor you, and all your deeds this day!"
Lysander had only been a Lieutenant of some fiefdom to a now forgotten Terran autocrat at the time. His method of enlistment being thrown in the back of a truck by the autocrat's press gangers. Then, after a couple weeks of beatings and running and more beatings, he was given body armor, a gun, and a fancy hat to differentiate him from the rest of the conscripts. Then he was told by a mean looking major to hold a trench with his platoon alongside a couple other equally confused lieutenants and their platoons.
Having held the trench as he was told for 5 days straight, holding out against swarms of fleshlings, and screaming abominations with a dwindling ammo supply, Lysander was already half-mad with panic when the Emperor arrived, and when he heard the voice of this golden giant he knew nothing about, he must have lost his mind completely.
"We make our own luck, Sir!" He yelled back at the figure holding the golden sword. "Platoon! Fix bayonets! Prepare to charge! We're not letting these newcomers show us how to do our job!"
His men, also driven mad with fear, yet now filled with a mad sense of glory, all hurriedly put on their bayonets, and prepared to stick them in the monsters around them; just as the golden giants did with their spears.
"Hold Lieutenant." and the armored hand of the Emperor rested on Lysander's shoulder. "You and your men have shown me enough bravery today. Hold this position, and protect my flank."
Lysander later realized that was the second time he had been saved by the Emperor.
Nobody needed to guard the Emperor's flank. His Custodes had no weakness, and were all excellent battle strategists.
The voice of the Emperor was a powerful thing. All who heard it knew no fear. But, that did at times lead to spurring on more than a few fools and madmen to go charging to their deaths. He knew from personal experience that, had he charged into the enemy as he was about to do, he would have met a very quick and grisly end.
This Catumen was the same as his Lord. He didn't know how to describe it, but he felt the same way before them. With age he had gotten used to the Emperor's presence, but he had not yet had time to acclimatize to the presence of this Catumen before him.
'Extraordinary member of its species indeed.' Lysander thought to himself. Part of him became quite reassured of everything. If this Catumen was the same as his Lord, then its people should be just as easily swayed by it as he was.
But, another part of him, the ever suspicious part of him that had kept him alive as he rose through the ranks, earned promotions, and finally ascended to the elevated position of Commodore of the Emperor's own flagship, whispered a grave warning.
Not all humans followed the Emperor. Not all who heard his voice came to his side, or followed his vision.
Optima spera, ad pessima praepara, inopinata exspecta
(hope for the best, prepare for the worst, expect the unexpected)