When in Doubt, Blame the Eldar (PA SI multicross) Chapter 4: 31-34, a warhammer fanfic

Threadmarks 31. Putting Humpty-Dumpty Back Together Again

Ever get the feeling that you've just woken up from a coma?

When something crazy happens and everything changes so fast that you wonder if you've somehow disappeared for a year without realizing it? Or when something so horrible happens that your brain pretends it's not that bad, even though you know in your gut that it is and that things will not be alright?

That's me, after the event we'd come to call 'the Scream'.

And, well, everyone else on the ship, to one degree or another.

Especially the Eldar seers. Watching the otherwise calm and regal seers have a shouting match in the hall was…probably the second most heartbreaking thing I'd seen that day.

The Eldar…the Eldar were not handling the situation well.

I've seen them argue before, but not like this. Larrissa looked like she was two steps away from throwing furniture. Mohannis was trying to calm her down, while clearly refusing to budge on whatever it was that made the young woman so angry. Meanwhile, Curon sat to the side, his head lowered into his hands and visibly wracked with guilt for not being able to protect Taldeer.

They were talking too fast for me to translate properly, but it was very clear who or what they were talking about.

"Fine!" Larrissa finally said in Low Gothic. "Let's get a second opinion, then."

Mohannis sighed. "Larrissa…"

"Commander, are you there?"

"Of course." I immediately said.

"You're been listening." Mohannis noticed, narrowing his eyes.

Not intentionally. Then again, I think the entire ship heard them. "To be fair, it's hard not to. I think some people on Terra might have missed your shouting match."

"Anyway," The youngest seer said "we want a second opinion on a rather complicated matter."

"No, we don't." Mohannis insisted. "There is nothing to discuss. We both know what needs to be done."

Larrissa simply ignored him. "This old Grynix wants to ship our Farseer back to the craftworld, regardless of anyone's wishes or basic common sense."

"Taldeer has been…badly disfigured by the effects of the Scream and I have done everything I could for her. She needs to return to Ulthwé for proper medical attention." Mohannis was moments from getting interrupted when he held up his hand and said: "The worst they will do is command her to go to the Dome of Crystal Seers. There, she will peacefully meditate until her body turns to crystal and her spirit is released into the Infinity Circuit. It is the eventual fate of all Farseers, Commander, and quite possibly the least horrid way for their kind to die. All we do is making the inevitable happen a little sooner."

"That's not what they'll do, and you know it!"

"Larissa…"

"Stop sussing me. Stop pretending that everything is going to be alright. We both know what the Seer Council is like." She took a deep breath, managing to calm herself down. Barely. "There is…I don't know what the Low Gothic term is, but…there is a punishment for seers who abuse their powers. They…they can strip you of your powers, your ability to manipulate the Warp in any way. It is rare, reserved only for a few, except…"

"Except Taldeer pissed off a lot of people working with me." I said. She nodded. "Also, she is a Farseer. Which means her powers are her whole existence. Her life, her identity, everything. You take that away, what's left?"

The elder seer shook his head. "Commander, that particular punishment is, as Larrissa stated, reserved only for a few and only when necessary. It is extremely unlikely that the Council would ever go that far. More likely, she will get medical treatment she needs and live the rest of her life in peace."

"Didn't you just tell me that she's pretty much beyond medical treatment?" I asked. Mohannis's silence was quite damning. "Have you asked Taldeer for her opinion on all this?"

He lowered his head and managed to look guilty. "She's…in no shape to make decisions. I'm afraid we'll have to make them for her."

I snorted. One way or another, I'd made my decision. "I wonder if Taldeer appreciates the irony."

"Commander…"

"I know you want to send her home, but I think Larrissa has a point here. Besides, if this sort of thing happened to me, I wouldn't want an even bigger mess shoved down my throat without my consent."

"We are not human, commander." He said, almost pleadingly. "Don't ascribe your thoughts and values to us."

"You're as human as I am." I coldly replied. "You're not that different, in the grand scheme of things. And yes, I mean that in the best and worst possible way."

There really was no right answer here. Sending her back to Ulthwé for treatment was the safer option, especially for me. Even if something bad happened, I wouldn't be in the blast radius. All I had to do was throw a broken woman into a political snake pit. On the other hand, I couldn't stop thinking about what Taldeer had said, about me becoming the Tyranid Hive Mind 2.0. It was plausible. If I stopped seeing people as people but as tools and resources, what would happen to me? If I ruined her life because it was convenient to me, would I be any better than the Farseers that I've come to despise so much?

Yes, Taldeer screwed up and was never really on my side, but did she really deserve getting possessed and turned into an anime fan's drunken nightmare? Yes, she'd been trying to control me from the day we met, but had she really done something so heinous that I was willing to cross a line to get rid of her?

No, she didn't.

I sighed. "She's stable, isn't she? Not corrupted, not possessed, just… the victim of an unwanted make-over."

"It's not that simple."

"Of course it isn't, but if she isn't going to mind-rape everyone and make us have a giant murder-orgy together, I'd say she's stable enough." Before he could interrupt, I added: "If she goes to Ulthwé like this, she will never be allowed to leave. They might even put her down like a dog. I can't accept that. Not when her only crime is trying to save her people."

"That's not how this works!" Mohannis insisted. "We are not barbarians. We don't lock away or execute our own people for being exposed to a malevolent entity. She'll be allowed to make her case before the Seer Council. This isn't her" He quickly turned to Curon "or anyone else's fault. They'll understand and if we don't take her home, her condition could get worse."

"Except she disobeyed the Seer Council by not murdering me for the crime of existing when she had the chance." A fact that I was more than a little bitter about, all things considered. Needless to say, the Seer Council of Ulthwé had not endeared itself to me.

"Which is hardly unheard off. Farseers are given a great deal of leeway in the execution of their duties, as the visions of a seer on the field is always more accurate than one from within the craftworld. Like I said, she'll be allowed to make her case before the Seer Council."

"And is she in any state to properly defend herself?" I asked. "Face it, Mohannis, the second she sets foot on Ulthwé looking like that her life is pretty much over. The least we can do is give her a choice. You said it yourself: she's stable. Unless you can convince me that Taldeer's going to die or worse, she's staying until she's mentally fit to make the choice herself. If she decides to go back, it'll be on her choice and on her terms. I don't like Taldeer, but she doesn't deserve to be locked up or meditated to death because she honestly tried to make the world a better place."

Mohannis rubbed his brow and turned to his counterpart. "Larrissa, you know the Farseer needs more help than we can provide here. She needs…You know what could have happened."

"Oh, I know very well what could have happened." Larrissa replied, a dangerous glint appearing in her eyes. "I've seen her…the thing she'd become pin me down and…and touch my…until I…" She took a step back, trying to breathe. "But she didn't. That was just a vision. It never happened, it never will."

"Gods, Larrissa…"

"Just stop! Stop trying to be understanding and reasonable and heartlessly pragmatic and all the other things we seers are supposed to be. We…this path is warping our minds, and you can't even see it. They can't see it. It's our job to assist Taldeer and keep her safe…"

"This isn't your fault, Larrissa." Mohannis said, softly. Then, to Curon, he added: "Or anyone else's, for that matter."

"That's not the point!" The young seer shouted. "The Council won't care who's to blame. They'll just see a broken woman to use as their pawn for their next idiotically over-complicated plan. Taldeer will be ruined and the Council will pat itself on the back, convincing themselves that maintaining the miserable status quo is the only way forward. She… She…"

I brought in a seeker and patted Larrissa on the shoulder. She briefly recoiled away from me, but soon regained her composure. "Larrissa's right. Taldeer deserves a fair shot at defending herself, so we'll keep her here for now."

"And if she turns again? What if your device merely weakened the fiend, or buried it so deep inside her that even I can't find it anymore? Even if you did banish the creature, this game we play on the ship can be just as dangerous to her. This is not a time for half-measures."

"I'll be watching her at all times, as will you three." I reassured him. "I can get Orkanis to chip in too, if you want to. Also, I'll have the Atropos ready to fire on command. If this happens again, I'll shut her down and you can tell everyone 'I told you so'."

"Assuming we survive the experience…" He replied, dourly.

"We'll figure something out, okay?"

Larrissa's eyes widened. "Curon, didn't you have a crazy Exodite cousin somewhere? What was the planet called again…Elnara, Alnora?"

"Crazy Exodite cousin?" I asked.

Curon groaned. "That would be Lana. She walks the Path of the Outcast, came across the Maiden World of Alnara, and decided she never wanted to leave. She's not crazy, she just…went native, I believe the saying is. I can…make a few calls." He rubbed his brow. "That said, Exodite worlds are not resorts. The Farseer will be asked to pull her weight."

"Exactly." Larrissa said. "They'll make her do some honest labor to keep her head off things. No powers, no stresses, no intrigue, and her soul will be kept safe by the planet's World Spirit. It'll give her some time to pull herself together and if there is no improvement afterwards…then we'll see about the craftworld."

I turned to Mohannis. "Does that sound like an acceptable compromise?"

"Does my opinion even matter?" The old seer bemoaned. Geez, I'm not that bad. How often have I forced my opinion down their throat? Yes, I have the power to do whatever the hell I want, but I've always discussed things with the others.

"Yes, it does."

He looked at me, wearily. "So be it, then."

And it wasn't just Taldeer either.

Ozman…Ozman just didn't wake up. No matter what we tried, he was…gone.

Looking down at him, the old primaris psyker looked so fragile.

In a way, he always had. In spite (or more likely because) of his powers, he was very thin and brittle. His aged appearance and the ugly cybernetics didn't help either. He'd often used that to his advantage, lulling us in a false sense of security and making us forget that he could read minds and set people on fire with a snap of his fingers.

But now, looking at him in a coma, all I saw was an old, blind man. Vacille had come by and fitted him with feeding tubes and other things that were supposed to keep his body in good condition, but we weren't really holding out much hope. I don't think that anyone thought he'd ever wake up again.

It made the empty look in Thomas' eyes even more heartbreaking. The boy had helped the Magos carry Ozman here, and then assisted in building the life-support machine. A machine that even Vacille noted would probably be useless, with all the psychically induced brain trauma. Part of me wondered if wouldn't be kinder to let him die. Then I looked at Thomas and… He'd lost so much already, yes, but false hope could be absolutely toxic and…

Just…fuck.

I hated this. I hated not having answers, or not knowing what to say. He needed me, now more than ever, and I… I couldn't help him. Even Squiddie was doing more than I could, clutching him like that.

Orkanis entered, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I…saw something." Thomas said. "When the…the Scream happened, I… There were people, and they were being dragged by giants in grey armor. The giants muttered things like 'weak' and 'failure', and… They were being taken to some sort of town square where…where there was this giant, even bigger than all the others. He had the same grey armor, but no helmet. Long, blond hair and these yellow eyes that just… 'contempt', that's the word. Like I wasn't worth dirtying his boots for. Then he had me…had the people dragged to a block and cut of my head with a sword and…and he did it again, and again, and again and it just wouldn't stop because they were too weak and useless and were just going to end up ruining everything by existing and…" The boy stopped, forcing himself to breathe while I stood by helplessly.

"Why?" He asked. "Why Ozman? Why this?"

"I do not know." The wraithseer said, very much sounding his age. "Fate is a cruel mistress, and we are all bound by her whims one way or another. Seers like us are merely puppets who can see their own strings."

"It shouldn't be like this. I can violate natural laws on a whim, but I can't…I can't save…" Thomas put his hand on Ozman's head, only for Orkanis to snatch it away.

"Do not do this, young human. Do not go down this path. Some things cannot be prevented and some wounds cannot be healed. This is not your fault, or that of anyone else. All we can do now is pick up the pieces and move forward." Gently, the wraithseer pulled him away from the unconscious psyker. "I will teach you the best I can. I do not know if he can be saved, but I can promise that by the time we are finished, you will be wise enough to know if you can."

The boy looked at him, sadly. "That doesn't really fill me with much hope."

"I know, but it is all I can do. I do not lie to my students, young Thomas. Nor do I give them false hope or empty promises."

The door opened and Gebbit entered. Instantly, the color drained from Thomas' face, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by the commissar.

"I only shoot psykers that are a danger, boy. Ozman won't hurt anyone in this state." Gebbit said. Clearly, he tried to put Thomas at ease. It wasn't really working.

Orkanis took a step forward, putting himself in between Thomas and the commissar. "He will need a new teacher, at least until Ozman reawakens."

Gebbit frowned. "And you're volunteering?"

"You are somewhat short on options, and I can honestly say that I have more experience than anyone else on the ship. Unless, of course, you would prefer one of the seers?"

The commissar wordlessly glared at the ancient Eldar, but he didn't say no. That's probably as good an answer as we were going to get. "Thomas, remember this: 'No man who died in His service dies in vain'. No matter what happens, He on Terra protects the souls of the faithful, and Ozman's faith has been proven true time and time again."

Oh, Christ, he did not just say that. You don't tell a kid to have faith in the Emperor when the Emperor took everything from him. That's not how the world works he…

Bachelor's wives and maiden's children…

Fuck.

"But his soul is still here." Thomas said, tears in his eyes. "I can feel him, he's just…stuck or trapped and I don't know what to do. It's like he's slowly sinking in this mess and if I don't get him out he'll be…he'll be…" He fell on his knees as Orkanis put an arm around him.

"It's not fair." The boy sobbed. "It's just not fair."

I didn't have an answer to that. Gebbit didn't either.

Yes, things weren't going very well. We were coping, but it wasn't enough.

Of course, we weren't the only ones with problems. Stubbs gave me a somewhat less than polite call about his rather narrow escape from Kaurava IV. Granted, he nearly lost his entire army to a cosmic miscarriage, so I wasn't too upset with him. I eventually managed to calm him down by convincing him that the Scream knocked out my command and control systems, as well as screw up the teleporters. Not entirely the truth, but telling him that all my stuff is powered by the Warp wouldn't go over very well. I'm pretty sure he bought it…or at least pretended to. He had bigger problems, after all.

For starters, the Sisters of Battle had gone completely apeshit.

As in, more than usual. According to Stubbs, they saw the Scream as somekind of sign from the Emperor and as a punishment for the Imperial Guard and the 'heretics' in the system, never mind how deliciously ironic that phrase had become. The problem was that they managed to 'convince' both the PDF watching them and the refugees of their righteousness, giving them access to limited weaponry and another supply of cannon fodder.

At least Stubbs had the presence of mind to place the Sisters in camps far away from civilization. It…mitigated the damage somewhat.

I offered him my help, but he said that this was his duty to perform. I think he was still a little peeved about the whole 'almost lose your regiment to a giant fuck-off hole in the universe' thing. Not that I really cared either way. The end result would have been the same regardless: bombardment from the Navy, bombardment by artillery, and then a flood of tanks to deal with the remnants.

From what I heard, no mercy was requested and no mercy was given. Honestly, I was beyond caring at that point.

Unfortunately, crazy Sisters were only the start of Stubbs's (or indeed our) problems. Turns out: Ozman wasn't the only Sanctioned Psyker hit by the Scream. No, two-thirds of the Imperial astropaths and combat psykers were dead or comatose, and much of the rest had been reduced to gibbering madmen, only kept alive because Kaurava wouldn't be able to communicate with the rest of the Imperium if the Commissariat shot them all.

Oh, and the Navy's Navigators couldn't see the Astronomican anymore.

Yeah, that was a thing.

Fun times for all.

General Alexander…wasn't taking the news very well. Of everyone present, he was probably the first to think of the implications on a larger scale, even if he couldn't grasp the full scope of what had happened. Desperate for answers, he calmly and politely requested that I let him communicate with his old regiment on Kronus. It was, after all, the only other Imperial system that I had assets in, considering that I'd been avoiding them wherever possible.

Yes, I know he was mostly worried about his men. Believe it or not, I'm not a complete idiot.

And I really needed to know how far the Scream had reached too.

Looking at Colonel, now Governor Militant Vash, I felt my worst fears becoming a reality.

"General." He said with a salute. "Commander. Good to see…at least one of you again." He looked tired. Beyond tired. The bags under his eyes were large enough to act as luggage compartments. "Didn't think I'd ever see you again, sir. What with the Inquisition poaching you… Well, it's good to be wrong every now and then."

"Likewise, Colonel." Alexander replied, warmly. "Congratulations on your promotion."

The newly minted colonel snorted. "Wish I hadn't accepted. I'm a glorified civvie-herder now, thanks to you. Anyway, how's your life been?"

The general thought for a moment, trying to find the words. "Interesting."

"Interesting?"

"I'm currently expecting to wake up from some kind of alcohol-induced coma any day now."

"That interesting…" Vash nodded in understanding.

"Precisely."

"I guess that makes two of us then…" The colonel shook his head and rubbed his brow. "Never a dull moment, it seems. I'm missing the boring tours. Anyway, I'm guessing this isn't a social call. You wouldn't pop by Kronus just for a beer."

For a moment, General Alexander looked a little constipated. "We're not in the system, Vash."

"You're not…then where are you?"

"Classified. A few dozen lightyears from your position, at any rate."

The colonel blinked. "Then how the hell're we talking?"

"Quantum entanglement communication." I quickly chimed in. "Two particles are linked on a quantum level. One particle spins clockwise, the other spins clockwise. One particle spins counterclockwise, the other also spins counterclockwise. Put in enough particles, and you have a viable form of communication." Then I realized that I just admitted to doing the impossible. No one (except for maybe the Necrons) has a non-psionic means of FTL communication.

An audible thud was heard on the other side. "That was my lead techpriest." The colonel complained, dryly. "I think he's having a seizure. Or a religious experience. Probably both. Again. Thank you for that." He sighed. "Just to prove you're real: General, what did we get you for your last promotion?"

"The head of Warboss Panzee-eata' for my new trophy collection. Lord General Castor was amused." Alexander's face hardened. "Colonel, our expedition has just been hit by some kind of psychic phenomenon, and we have reason to believe it's affected Kronus as well."

"You mean that giant scream thing? Oh, we noticed, all right. It's only been a few hours and we're already putting down nutters. But I'm guessing you're more interested in the psykers, aren't you, sir?"

The general looked grim. Hell, they both did. "How many?"

"About two thirds of our astropaths and sanctioned psykers lost, sir. The rest…aren't looking much better. Some are in a coma, others are muttering to themselves, or… It's all gone to the Warp, sir, and now the navigators say they can't see the Astronomican anymore. They think we're in some kind of Warp storm. How's Ozman?"

"Coma, probably for good." Alexander sighed. "And…other psykers on our end suffered the same fate. Which means that this is bigger than we feared."

"Probably, sir." Vash rubbed the back of his head. "Something else I noticed too, thought you might want to know… I've been collecting Kronus' tithe of psykers for the Black Ships and they're…they're doing better than the sanctioned lot. Of that group, we only lost about twenty percent. Why would the psykers with actual training get hit harder than the untrained witches? It doesn't make any sense."

That was very strange. The Adeptus Astra Telepathica was murderously rigid in its training regimens. While I didn't have access to the exact details, what I've read about the Black Ships and the Scholastica Psykana from the Blood Ravens (and from my previous life) didn't paint a pretty picture for psykers that were too weak, disloyal, or emotionally unbalanced to serve directly. Most of that group would either die on the Black Ships themselves, during training, or be fed into the Astronomican. The ones that remained were supposed to be the strongest and most capable of the crop.

So why did they die first?

"I don't know." Alexander responded, sullenly. "This is…outside my area of expertise. I'm going to have to investigate this."

"Well, good luck, sir. It's good to see you're still around."

"Likewise, Vash." He made a quick gesture, signaling me to cut the connection. "I think it's time for a meeting." He told me. I couldn't help but agree. I passed along the message and the crew slowly trickled in the bridge. Everyone, this time, not just a few (which reminded me that I needed to get a bigger table). Even Taldeer made an appearance, trying to appear like nothing was wrong, even though there clearly was.

Her armor was a complete mess. The crystals were shattered, and many of the armor plates had been cracked or partially splintered. Where before she stood tall, now she was hunched over and needed Larrissa to keep herself from tripping over her feet. Even then, she managed to look somewhat regal and dignified as she sat down and nodded politely to the Imperials at the other end of the table and the wraithseer beside her. It was as if she wanted to say she'd been bent, but not broken. That in spite of her tarnished armor and her constant shivering, she was still standing strong.

I knew better. I saw her getting dressed earlier and failing to put on her helmet. Her ears were too big, so she had to painfully stuff them into her helmet, wincing as she did.

Another thing that'd changed.

Thomas was the last to arrive. When he did, I took control of one of my bots and crashed into my throne. "Well, this is all horrible."

"Would anyone kindly explain to me what is going on?" Sekhareth asked, sounding rather annoyed. "In simple terms, if you'd please. Pseudo-religious gibberish is not helping me develop an understanding of this 'Scream', as we have apparently decided to call it."

I looked around and noticed that no one had volunteered to give him an explanation. "Long story short, we just got hit by the mother of all psychic shockwaves. And by we, I mean everyone that I've managed to contact. At least a fifty-lightyear radius. Could be more, but I've no way to tell. As far as I can tell, the range could have been anywhere from just that to the entire galaxy."

The Necron looked at me, flatly. "I see. Is this a natural phenomenon? A result of that Warp storm, perhaps?"

"No." Mohannis spoke. "Warp storms do not behave in such a fashion. This was a single pulse tearing through the Warp. For the most part, the effects on the material world have been relatively minor."

"I'd like to disagree with that." I quickly added, reviewing the rather massive damage to my operations. It would take days to rebuild all my infrastructure. A week, at least, before I could rebuild my fleets. Sure, I didn't lose everything, but it was perilously close.

The old Warlock sighed. "If this had been a Warp storm, the damage would have been much more severe and probably far longer lasting. This system would have been swallowed whole, probably for years. A natural storm of this size would not just vanish after a few minutes."

"And an unnatural one?" I asked. "There are plenty of historical examples of people creating Warp storms. Usually they're a prelude to major Chaos incursions or Black Crusades. We're far away from the Eye of Terror, but it's still possible."

Mohannis frowned. "I…hope not. It's not impossible. One would probably have to sacrifice entire systems' worth of people to create an effect of this scale, but there are beings vile and powerful enough to do that."

"Like Magnus the Red?" Thomas asked, hesitantly. "He wanted to get me to talk to you, and he's really powerful. Maybe he's tired of us refusing him and thinks it's better to just kill you off before you're too strong."

Kirnov let out a snort. "Or literally every Chaos Lord in history, ever. Those bastards decide seniority based on the biggest and scariest thing they've murdered, and it doesn't get much bigger or scarier than our resident self-replicating mechanism of war, now does it? Honestly, we can pick and choose when it comes to those crazies." He shook his head. "While we're brainstorming, I can imagine our own Inquisition pulling something like this off too."

"Kirnov!" Gebbit shouted.

"Respectfully, sir, they're scared and desperate. Desperate enough to send us, trying to play diplomat. If the Inquisition genuinely thinks the Mechanids are going to overthrow the Imperium someday… Well, you know what they say, right? 'No blood is too precious'. I wouldn't put it past them to sacrifice a sector to save our entire species."

The commissar glared furiously, but didn't deny the possibility. "Be that as it may, there is also the possibility that the commander was not the intended target."

"I find that a little hard to believe." I said. After all, the Scream didn't happen in canon. It stands to reason that I, or at least my existence, had something do with it, even if it was only indirectly. Besides, there were a lot of people who wanted me dead and would go through great lengths to do it.

"There are many horrors in the galaxy, and you, Commander, are simply one of them. The five hundred worlds of Ultramar are not that far off and their loss would be an incalculable blow to the Imperium. They are just as likely to be the target of this attack, assuming it is an attack, as you are."

General Alexander had been eerily silent throughout the conversation. Instead, he's been glaring at the Eldar. "What of your people?" He finally asked. "What if this is the product of Eldar witchcraft? You certainly have the sorcerous power to do it and I have yet to see an atrocity that the Eldar are not willing to commit in the name of one grand design or another." Immediately, the three seers started sputtering indignant denials, while the Farseer stayed mysteriously silent. The general simply held up his hand. "I'm not blaming the four of you specifically. I am, however, concerned about the mysterious disappearance of a certain Farseer Caerys and her warhost."

Larrissa was the first to form something resembling a coherent response. "She wouldn't…she would never… We're still here! She would have warned us!"

"Unless this Caerys sees you as acceptable casualties. Maybe she didn't think she could warn you without tipping off the wrong person. Maybe she simply didn't care. Maybe she thought your deaths were necessary. You Eldar are fickle creatures and have a habit of bringing ruin to others. Who's to say you wouldn't do that to your own kind?"

Again, the seers responded with anger, as if the very thought of being on the receiving end of a Farseer's plots was somehow inconceivable to them. I wondered how much of that was simple denial.

Finally, Alexander slammed his fist on the table, silencing the room. "I've just found out that most of the astropaths in the Kaurava and Kronus systems have died or gone mad. One of them happens to be a friend of mine. I have also learned that the Astronomican is no longer visible and no one knows why. I can only assume that any system caught within the range of the Scream, however long that may be, will have suffered the same fate. In other words, interstellar communication and commerce across this region of space has effectively ceased. Considering that many worlds in Imperium are not self-sufficient, many will begin to starve in a matter of weeks, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. And now, Caerys has disappeared, your Farseer looks like she just lost a fight with an Ork warboss, and you three are fighting for some reason." The general sounded perfectly calm as his eyes bore into the Eldar. The coldness in his voice sent shivers up my spine. "Farseer Taldeer, I know your kind well enough to understand that you have very few compunctions. So, I'm going to say this only once. I want you to take of your damn helmet, look me in the eye, and tell me that the Eldar had nothing to do with this!"

For the first time since the meeting started, Taldeer sat perfectly still. All eyes were focused on the Farseer, while Larrissa's gaze jumped from her, to Gebbit, to Alexander, and back to Taldeer. Then, the Farseer slowly took off her helmet, exposing herself to the world.

Ho boy.

Gebbit's hand reached for his bolt pistol. I'd expected he might do that, so I decloaked the seeker I'd placed beforehand and charged up its plasma gun. The ominous hum of the plasma gun was enough to convince the commissar to not do anything rash. Satisfied, I let the plasma charge dissipate and recloaked the drone.

Slowly, Taldeer began to speak. "The seers of the Eldar are, without doubt or hyperbole, the greatest diviners in the galaxy. We can elucidate events that will happen years, decades, even centuries from now with perfect clarity. Even the greatest amongst you are but children compared to those that follow the Path of the Witch. But…but we have our limits." She looked Alexander in the eye, her glare boring straight into his soul. "We are not fickle creatures. We are the opposite of fickle creatures. Every action we take is carefully weighed and measured against the consequences. Not a single act is taken unless the runes confirm that it is the best course of action, or at least the least damaging. To unleash an event of such magnitude as the Scream…even we cannot hope to predict the consequences or the damage it might do. To even try is insanity."

"And why would you care about the damage? We're enemies."

"No, Lucas, we are not. Humanity has never been our enemy." She stopped, catching her breath. "We are not plotting your precious Imperium's destruction for your continued existence means nothing to us. We care not if you live. We care not if you die. Your destruction has never been our goal, for you are simply xenos, and nothing more. For sixty million years, the Eldar have endured. In that time, we watched countless empires rise and fall, all of whom were convinced that they would exist forever. Some have coexisted with us peacefully until they succumbed to the inevitable march of time, like your civilization did before Age of Strife consumed it. Others have sought to take what was ours and paid the price for their hubris. You are nothing new: just another upstart trying to lay claim to the very stars, different from the others only because the Eldar no longer have the strength to teach you humility. You are a resource, General, and nothing more. Not an ally, not an enemy. We would not squander your strength so easily. Not when we have no one to replace your role in the galaxy."

"Farseer…" Larrissa muttered, mouth agape.

"If we wanted you dead, human, we would have ended your species a long time ago. Your precious Imperium is so very fragile and there are dozens of little cracks in your power structure that would see the entire Imperium undone if exploited. And yet, we do not use them. We let you exist, because in spite of all the Eldar your wretched species murders every year, you still have a purpose. Your armies, your fleets…they cast a wide shadow and for every one of ours you kill, a thousand more are inadvertedly spared because their doom is crushed under your boot before it ever threatens us. If humanity were to fall, the Eldar would have to face those foes alone. So, no, good general, we did not do this. The Eldar have nothing to gain from driving a large swath of the Imperium into ruin. Not when the power vacuum would be filled by Orks, Tyranids, or worse."

Before the general could answer, I said: "For once, I believe her. If the Eldar knew this was going to happen, they'd have had their troops to kick me while I'm down. As it is now…if the Eldar were responsible, then all they've accomplished is to set me back for a couple of days. The way I see it, the fact that I haven't been attacked by Eldar yet is a pretty clear sign that the Scream surprised them as much as the rest of us."

Commissar Gebbit looked at Taldeer with a scowl on his face. Then he turned to me. "Can we talk about…this?"

"No one is getting shot." I said, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. "I know we're all freaking out right now, so let's calm down and not do anything rash."

"Commander…"

"No one is getting shot, Anton Gebbit. She's stable, for now, and I don't like it when people I know die. Especially when its unnecessary. Regardless of their species."

The commissar sighed, giving me a disappointed look. "Your compassion will be the death of us all." He whispered.

A mirthless laugh escaped me. "You wanna hear something funny about compassion?" I asked. "There is a sure-fire way to kill Chaos, you know. You see, Chaos feeds on the life and emotion of soul-bearing creatures; its greatest strength, but also its weakness. If you wipe out Chaos' food source, it'll die. In other words, the best, if not the only way to defeat Chaos is galactic omnicide. And I'd probably have to start with humanity, considering that you bastards have been doing the lion's share of the feeding for the past ten thousand years." I leaned in and glared. "Chaos is one of the few things that can threaten me. It is also one of the few things I genuinely fear. The logical thing to do right now is to harden my heart and exterminate every last one of you mewling meatbags before Chaos literally destroys everything in the universe. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if that's why the original Men of Iron turned against humanity in the first place, what with all the psykers suddenly popping up and flooding the galaxy in daemons. My compassion is keeping me from going on a murder-spree. My compassion is the reason that I'm not slaughtering you like cattle for the crime of having a soul. So, Commissar, I suggest you reconsider your earlier statement and thank whoever gave me a shred of humanity, because without that you and everyone you care about would probably be dead by now!"

Again, the bridge felt silent as everyone stared at me. Thomas, in particular, looked terrified, his eyes darting between me and the Eldar. I sank back into my throne, feeling very self-conscious. That…may have been too ranty.

"I…I'm sorry." I said, head bowed. "I'm not having a good day right now. All the more reason to not do anything we can't undo tomorrow."

Orkanis nodded politely. "Perhaps it would be best if we discussed our way forward. See how the Scream changes our timetable."

"Agreed." The Farseer. "Since the Alpha Legion is gone, as far as I can tell, the greatest threat…"

"And you need to rest, Farseer Taldeer." The wraithseer interrupted, sounding like a father chiding his daughter.

"But…"

Orkanis put his hand on her shoulder. "Your soul has been splintered like glass. The mask you wore yesterday is shattered and you need time to make it whole again. Somewhere far away from the battlefields of politics and war."

"But I…"

"Much has changed," The wraithseer insisted "and the differences are more than skin-deep. The pieces will not fit together as they did yesterday. Even you can see that you cannot help anyone, broken as you are now. You need time. Time to craft a new mask for yourself."

Curon put his hand on the Farseer's shoulder. "Farseer, please… A week. I'm sure we can handle ourselves for a week."

Taldeer frowned, looking almost insulted. Then she tried to put on her helmet, only to fail when the thing got stuck on her ears again. Rather than continuing, she put the helmet on her lap and sighed. Suddenly, she looked very old and very, very tired.

I couldn't help but pity her.

Eventually, she stood up and slowly shuffled her way back to her quarters with Larrissa in tow. Meanwhile, Gebbit gave the general a worried and almost pleading look, as if he wanted to ask why he wouldn't let the commissar shoot her. Alexander shook his head. 'Not here, not now.'

Eventually, Alexander leaned forward and said: "Right now, I think it's best that we focus on Kaurava instead of each other. The Scream…The Scream is not a problem we can deal with right now. Kaurava is."

"Like I said, I lost quite a lot." I brought up a holographic image of the system, focusing on Kaurava II. "My main base on Kaurava II is essentially gone after my commander bot went nuclear. The Tau are fighting what's left and… Well, they're winning. Sucks to say, but that base's a goner." Another image appeared, this time of Kaurava III. "I still have my forward positions here, though. And the Litany of Fury. It'll take time, but I can rebuild. We haven't provoked the Necrons yet, so they'll probably keep trying to reactivate themselves."

"Show me what's left of the base later. I don't think I'll be able to stop them, but I can make them bleed." The general said. "What the Tau moon base?"

"Unknown. My spy drones didn't survive the Scream, but I should have a pack of drones start their flyover any second now." I turned to the general and asked. "Why the Tau?"

"If you're not spying on them anymore, then you're not sabotaging their Ar'Ka cannon. If they bring that thing back online…"

"Super-happy-shooty-time."

The general blinked. "That's…one way of putting it, but yes."

Mohannis frowned deeply. "I'm still having trouble believing that the Tau would build a weapon of such magnitude, let alone fire it. It seems so out-of-character for them."

"They're xenos, Eldar." Father Martel scoffed. "They're as alien to you as they are to me. Don't presume to understand them."

"Perhaps." The old seer replied, almost with a scoff. "Or perhaps they do not intend to use it at all. Perhaps it is simply an implied threat, a weapon that never needs to be fired."

"I have shown you some of Or'Es'Ka's rants, haven't I?" I said, incredulously. "He's not exactly a peacekeeper. More like a…well, a mad dog."

"And yet, none of us have seen a future where that weapon is ever fired. Perhaps the mad dog is kept on a tighter leash than you expected."

The console beeped. The flyover was starting, and without any problems, it seemed. No detection, no anti-air. Strange, until we found out why.

The Tau base was in ruins. Workers, administrators, and soldiers were running around like headless chickens, abandoning any sense of order or discipline. The reason became painfully apparent: they were being chased by…things.

Daemons.

The flyover continued. The deeper into the base the drones flew, the worse it got. Mindless carnage turned into rape-pillage-and-burn, and not always in that order. Worst were the areas that had been rendered completely lifeless already at the heart of the stronghold, where rows upon rows of Tau had been flayed, eaten, and left to rot in the streets. Finally, we got to the center of the fortress, where the Ar'Ka cannon was housed. The weapon itself was nowhere to be found. Instead, we found a swirling portal to the Warp where the cannon once stood.

"Well," Sekhareth commented "at least we now know why the Tau will never use their weapon."

I should have stayed in bed this morning…

Have I mentioned how much I hate Kaurava?

Well, it's worth mentioning again. Just…the gift that keeps on giving. Again and again and again.

Threadmarks 32. Interlude - Selena Agna

Interlude – Selena Agna