Sometime earlier.
Decimus, Prophet of the Eighth Legion, regarded the currents of the future with puzzlement.
His ability to see the future was actually quite limited… he could see clearly, the ways that his Legion would die. Every single warrior's death was clear in his mind's eye, some rock solid and certain, an unavoidable fate. Others were haze and filmy, indicating that multiple paths were still possible.
While this might have seemed like a minor gift, it was not. Decimus could contemplate a strategy and see the shifting of deaths in his mind. He could see how many of his men would survive and easily determine if a course of action was correct. He could plot out strikes that would bleed their enemies while keeping the Night Lords intact. It was a powerful gift.
The currents had shifted, though, and Decimus was seeing visions of necrons. He'd already seen them… one particular ship, commanded by Articus, had their fates written in stone. They would die at the hands of the xenos machines, and warning of their fate would actually make the situation worse, causing the deaths to spread to several other ships. Decimus was not sure why.
Now though, he was seeing necrons killing many of his men, on completely unrelated ships. Why? He had no intention of moving against them. They were not the Night Lord's prey… they felt no fear and possessed sensor suites that made darkness irrelevant. Decimus doubted that Konrad Cruze himself could find any way to terrify them. It was best to just avoid them. So why were the necrons involving themselves? Had they made an alliance with or otherwise claimed a human world the Night Lords intended to strike at?
When the battle to bleed the aeldari of Ulthwe began, Decimus got the shock of his young life.
"This is highly irregular," Variel said as Decimus employed his sword to tear apart a necron Immortal. Despite his importance as a leader, he could not afford to be seen as weak, so he needed to lead from the front. But Decimus could see his own death most of all and he would not die today. "The aeldari and necrons should be sworn enemies. How did they arrange this?" Variel sounded vexed that their enemies had gone completely out of character. Decimus smiled to himself… that was the kind of thing he truly hated.
"Yes, and our mission is failing," Decimus said, on a private channel with Variel. He would only admit fallibility to his most trusted friend. "We are not bleeding the eldar filth this way, we are being bled." They were letting the necrons take the hard knocks, curse them. Although Decimus would have done the same in their place… how had they arranged this, though?
"Forget our mission. Abaddon can deal with Ulthwe. Let us go to the primary objectives." Variel said coldly and Decimus allowed the strands of fate to reweave themselves. Yes, this was the way. He briefly tried to see what would happen if they attacked Ulthwe on the way BACK from the rest of their plans, and grimaced. By that time they would be weakened, no matter how well he planned things, so taking on Ulthwe then would be foolish.
It was unfortunate because getting rid of Ulthwe would be incredibly beneficial for Chaos as a whole, but the other Chaos bands had not come with them, so enough was enough. Decimus called the retreat, which was not an auspicious start. But sometimes, things did not quite work out.
His next target would be more fruitful.
Imotekh was currently reviewing the finances of his Empire.
He was quite satisfied with the status of the flows of wealth across his Empire. There were always winners and losers in the currents of trade but overall, everyone was doing adequately well. With trade re-opened with the Imperium, the Hive and Forge Worlds under his control were doing much better. Not wonderfully, since they could not trade military equipment, but still much better. The agri-worlds were also doing much better… in addition to his tribute, Imotekh had often quietly purchased some of their surplus, just to keep them from glutting the markets. Now, with the Imperiums' great need for food, that should no longer be necessary. He would keep an eye on it, though.
Imotekh truly loved this sort of thing, picturing the entire complicated web of trade in his mind's eye. It was very similar to running a massive military campaign, just with trade vessels and goods rather than ships and warriors. And the ultimate goal, for him, was a decent surplus for the coffers of the Empire. Given all the money he needed to funnel into his military forces, it was nothing excessive, just a tidy little profit. That had been the ethos of the Phaeron in the long-ago Flesh Times and Imotekh strived to emulate him.
(one of the things that had infuriated him upon waking was seeing how that treasure had been pillaged and wasted in the Sautekh civil war)
With Nihilakh and Charnovokh in his Empire, he demanded some tribute from them. Charnovokh's tribute was virtually nothing, just the rights to a few very promising worlds for future colonization. With Nihilakh, Imotekh was a bit firmer… they had not suffered like Charnovokh and their cupidity deserved some form of punishment. He'd taken many treasures, particularly the oddities they had collected from the humans, the things they could not even use. That Mung Vase in particular had fetched an extremely fine price on Hive Antioch. Imotekh had learned they were in fact preserved human brains from an ancient noble house who had thought this was somehow a good idea. The fact that they were considered delicacies was the most bemusing part.
As he examined the trade web in his mind, though, Imotekh noticed something a bit odd. An aberration, some rather strange shipments of alcohol that did not match normal patterns. With the ease of an incredibly advances supercomputer, Imotekh compared all known records of alcohol shipments in that area and came to the conclusion that this was indeed aberrant. In particular, the type of liquor did not seem to justify the trip. Was he missing something? Had something pushed a demand for it at the destination? Or was it just poor decision making on the part of the ship's captain? Or, perhaps, something much worse? Imotekh issued an order for the sector Governor to investigate further. It was possible this shipment of liquor was a blind, hiding trade in something illicit.
Aside from that, Imotekh did not detect anything out of the ordinary. Setting aside the trade network, he moved onto the military reports. They were less detailed, because he did not want to waste the time of his nemesors writing reports and when he was not personally in charge, Imotekh trusted them to carry out his will. One of the reports was quite amusing… nemesor Tutanru had sent him a simple 'everything is boring can I get an enemy please' message. It was his misfortune to be stationed as part of the protective shield around Hope and her daughter systems. Imotekh sent him back a message telling him he would see if he could find someone suicidal for him.
Aside from that, though, all of his wings were busy and Imotekh was none too pleased with the various efforts of the Szarekhan to cause havoc. Still, with the network of astropaths to assist, they were doing extremely well beating off the attacks. They were causing damage though… a never-ending headache. Imotekh tapped his fingers together before checking on the progress of a new project.
Due to the issues with supply lines, incorporating humans into his forces was absurd. And he was not entirely comfortable putting military hardware into the hands of slaves. However, he had the humans of Hope and Luminous, and perhaps even some limited recruitment from Antioch. They were contemplating using humans exactly as the Imperium always had, as local PDF forces. The hybrid Hopian ships were meant to be extremely capable in battle and the STC had advanced simulations to teach young naval officers. Imotekh wasn't going to leave planetary defense entirely to these new forces – he wasn't sure how good they would be, simulations were just not the same as the real experience – but they could be used to reinforce the existing pickets. The supply line for these forces could be left entirely to the Planetary Governors. If they were truly unable to support them, Imotekh would either lower the tithes or arrange shipments.
To really begin this project, though, they needed the hybrid ships from Hope and they had yet to arrive. Imotekh truly hated how remote the Hope system was… it was all the way past Ultramar, past the Exodites, almost falling off the galaxy. It was 'close' to the Sautekh Empire only in interstellar terms. And yet, the manufacturing had to be there… it was so technologically advanced, they were churning out necron-grade tech at a furious pace. Yggdrasil was in the vicinity and was feeding them fine ore, as well as a few other worlds. Imotekh knew that the surveyors moving into the Charnovokh sphere were looking for more resources, as well as habitable worlds. Despite the distance, Hope was just such a valuable manufacturing hub.
He needed the wormhole generator. Preferably, he needed two. Imotekh knew there were two ways he would use such generators… firstly, to cut the shipment time from Hope to zero. That would be an incredible advantage to his empire and fresh ships could even be sent DIRECTLY to recall points to make up losses and newly-recalled naval necrons would simply get aboard and crew them. So efficient! The other use, nearly as good as the first, would be to set up a central hub at Mandragora. Then Imotekh could move his own fleet directly to certain locations instantaneously. That would also be incredible!
Imotekh still didn't have quite enough for even the single wormhole generator, though. He was looking for a final item, something Trazyn would find irresistible. Putting that aside, he noted Zahndrekh's report… success on all counts, the orks crushed and diplomatic ties with the Farsight Enclaves established. Also a group of Earth Caste sent to Yanta'Kelosh to take care of the bionics needed… a small detail he didn't really need to know, but appreciated. Zahndrekh, unlike many of his commanders, actually enjoyed writing reports.
(Zahndrekh didn't mention the minor blip of Diarmuid, since it had all worked out. Which was almost a shame, since Imotekh would have found Manric's punishment for him amusing. And what Zahndrekh had added to that punishment would have made him laugh)
(of course, if Diarmuid had killed Farsight and actually derailed diplomacy with the Farsight Enclaves, he would have been executed. And he would have gone to his death cheerfully, commenting that it was well deserved)
Then the time for his meeting with the Thokt Dynasty ambassadors came. Imotekh was actually quite interested in that… they were trying to negotiate the trade of some Crypteks to their dynasty, and now there was a small fleet from them in orbit around Mandragora. Did they have something of value to trade? When Imotekh was shown a small sampling of the items they had to trade, and the full list, he was rendered briefly speechless.
These are incredibly valuable, Imotekh thought as he gently held a plate. He had never seen a set like this before, and would not have thought such a thing existed. Many complete sets existed, but they were in the hands of Dynasties. There were a few fragmentary pieces from lesser noble houses, but even those were emblazoned with personal sigils, things to indicate the owner. A completely unmarked set was unprecedented. The fact that it had been in aeldari hands… Trazyn would surely want this. And also, there was another consideration. Trazyn can display these. Trazyn surely had several such sets, but they would be scavenged from dead Dynasties and very obviously so. Putting them on display was asking for the wrath of the living. This one though, Trazyn could put this on display and show the greatest beauty of the necrontyr's art. That would be of great value to him.
"What price do you wish for these artefacts?" Imotekh asked and Rahotka put her hands together before bowing respectfully.
"We wish Crypteks, for the good of our Dynasty, but we are uncertain what worth they should be considered to have. Do you have a suggestion?" Ah, how clever of her. Imotekh knew his own nature and knew that when someone bargained heavily with him, it always inclined him to give them less. When someone asked him to set a fair price, he tended to be more generous. For this, though… Imotekh thought very hard before making his offer.
"For this priceless treasure, we will, over time, cede to Thokt fifty Crypteks. Ten of the lower ranks, twenty-five of the middle ranks – " Curiously enough, that was where Imotekh had the most Crypteks to spare. But that was the minimal competency required for a human field engineer or technician to qualify for free biotransference, so they were becoming quite abundant. "Ten of those I consider highly ranked, and five of the truly gifted. However, you will have to acquire permission from those for the shift," Imotekh warned and they both nodded. "I can cede to you immediately the lower ranks, ten of the middle, and three of the higher… the others, I would ask to give you after the matter of my war with Szarekh is resolved."
"We accept this offer," Rahotka said and Imotekh knew he'd been a bit too generous. Oh well. "We have already received permission from one, although I am not sure how he is ranked… Psychomancer Zivok has indicated that if you order him, he will come to our Dynasty without complaint." Oh really?
"He is among the truly gifted, a Psychomancer of rare talents although his specialty is the matters of the soul," Imotekh said, reflecting on it. Zivok did not have the skill of Szeras and likely never would, but he was still a luminary of rare talents. "However, I must keep him until the war is decided." Imotekh had watched a few of Zivok's battles against Agatef, at this point, and been deeply impressed. The fact that he kept losing meant little, Agatef was a rare monster.
"We understand… he is a military resource." Indeed. "We do have a few others…" Imotekh immersed himself in the details of the transfer, pulling up names and achievements as well as his personal notes on the Crypteks.
He wanted to offer fair value for this trade, but also not weaken the Sautekh Dynasty too much.
Trazyn was actually on Mandragora while Imotekh was acquiring the plates.
He'd come to see the play. Orikan had consented to come with him as a 'date' although that word had made the Chronomancer roll his single ocular. But Orikan loved the play and was more than willing to see it again. Having Trazyn present gave him a good excuse to neglect his duties for another week. Trazyn also noticed, with interest, that Phaeron Theokh of the Charnovokh had also come to see the play.
"Does he know you have Oramoton yet?" Trazyn asked Orikan and he twitched his tail, mildly annoyed.
"I doubt it. Oramoton is still working through the Warriors of Mandragora." Yes indeed. Trazyn had heard that Oramoton had located three more noble females. One, alas, had no living relatives so had not yet been resouled. The other two had been returned to their families. He'd also found five commoners of high worth. They were all artists of various types, including one author of novels. They were all resouled and adjusting to their new lives, beginning to pursue their professions again.
(Trazyn could not know, but Oramoton had found an additional two noble females but he had also seen that they would not be able to adapt to life among the necrons, without their children. Trying would only cause them and their relatives heartbreak)
(he had confided in Orikan who had agreed with him and they had been marked as not to be resouled)
"What will you do when he demands Oramoton be returned to him?" Trazyn persisted. He was sure Theokh would try to get his Chronomancer back, even if he could not personally stand him. Orikan's tail lashed, although his irritation was not directed at his companion.
"Oramoton is sworn to me. If Theokh wishes to negotiate, he can, but Charnovokh has no right to him after banishing him." Well, Theokh would probably take the position that the banishment had been an Overlord overstepping his authority. Maybe it was even true, although Trazyn doubted it. "If they wish his services to check their own Warriors for those worthy of resouling, I might grant that." For a suitable fee, Trazyn was sure. But fair enough, that was the perks of 'owning' a valuable Cryptek. "And if Imotekh approved it, of course."
"Of course," Trazyn echoed, still watching Theokh. He was truly splendid in his cloak of shadows, his blue necrodermis glimmering with dark light. In acknowledgement of the occasion, he'd worn the necron equivalent of finery, a necklace of midnight blue plaques. Each plaque had a symbol on it that Trazyn recognized after a moment as the sigils of his lost worlds. A mournful but beautiful adornment. "Oh, Orikan, have I introduced you to my family?" Trazyn couldn't remember the flesh times clearly but he thought he never had. Orikan made glyphs indicating interest.
"No, I would be pleased to meet them." Ah, excellent! They had both come with him and were also attending the play, although giving them a bit of space. Trazyn mentally summoned them… they had all arrived a bit early, making a social occasion of it as they waited for the play to begin.
Cryptek Zefrehna and Lychguard Djas came to join them. Trazyn was very pleased at the sight of them… they had not gotten remodeled, quite comfortable with their appearances, but they had chosen to display their individuality and remembrance in different ways. Zefrehna had a truly ancient glyph for teacher fashioned in simple bronze and attached to her headdress. Trazyn felt Orikan go still beside him and was sure he was remembering that this signified a teacher of the very young. Djas, meanwhile, had gotten a human made belt, made of fine leather and extremely similar to what he had worn when alive. It was an unusual choice of fashion, but the turquoise color of it matched his Nihilakh colors.
"Orikan, this is my daughter Zefrehna and my son, Djas. Children, this is my friend and colleague, Orikan the Diviner," Trazyn said easily and felt Orikan bristle slightly at that description. And admittedly the 'friend' part was highly dubious but were they not colleagues?
"I am pleased to meet you, most illustrious one," Zefrehna said before bowing deeply, as a Cryptek of her stature should to a great Luminary. Djas also bowed, but not as deeply, the exact depth appropriate for a powerful Lychguard to a greater Cryptek.
"I as well," Djas said and Trazyn could tell they were both a bit overawed. Orikan could as well, and found it a bit pleasing, from the way the tip of his tail curled.
"I am pleased to meet the two of you as well… I had no idea your father married, let alone had children," Orikan said and Trazyn was a bit surprised he'd made that mistake. But then, the Flesh Times had been a very long time ago.
"I'm afraid we were not married," Trazyn said easily. Orikan gave him a questioning look. "I did try, but the Phaeron of the Nihilakh's were always very jealous with the power of ennoblement." In most Dynasties that power was given to any close relatives of the Phaeron, although it could be taken away if abused. In the Nihilakh, only the Phaeron had possessed it and… "Alas, my request was denied." He'd been called a fool and told to find a proper mate. Trazyn had rebelled by keeping Zefreek by his side even more, and their connection had deepened into true love.
"Oh, Nihilakh… you do all tend to be snobs." Trazyn could only 'smile' and shrug, because he knew it was true. "What was it like, living with this fossil?" Fossil? But Trazyn could see Orikan was interested in his children so he decided not to make an issue of it.
They passed a bit of pleasant time just chatting, before the time came to take their seats. The play itself was wonderful… Trazyn loved how the events followed a more organic pacing, yet the play was long enough to be suitable for an immortal audience. He enjoyed the War in Heaven but if he'd been given freedom to re-write it Trazyn would have cut out so much, particularly act twenty-nine. That entire act could go.
After the play was done, Trazyn discussed it a bit with Orikan, debating some of the choices… Orikan was quite a harsh critic, much harsher than Trazyn… but then he received a surprisingly gentle request.
Trazyn the Infinite. If you have time at this moment, please meet me in the throne room. Imotekh sounded shockingly polite and Trazyn was extremely surprised. That was most unlike him. Orikan gazed at him curiously, noticing his sudden preoccupation.
"Imotekh desires my presence in the throne room, but it is a request," Trazyn said, trying to understand it. Orikan rolled his single ocular.
"You haven't heard that he's been collecting things to bribe you with?" Wait, he had? "He wants the wormhole generator." Yes but… that had enough transpositanium for an entire Dynasty! He would need a Phaeron's ransom for it! "The Stormlord must finally have found something he thinks you'll find convincing." Trazyn tilted his head, deeply curious. "Can I come too?" Hmm.
I will be there shortly, if Orikan can accompany me? Trazyn asked and received a blip of assent from Imotekh. "He doesn't mind… let's go." They caught a barge, Mandragora was huge and it was really too far to walk.
The throne room, when they arrived, had undergone great changes. Great tables had been added, displaying a plethora of beautiful things. All artefacts of the ancient necrontyr, ranging from items damaged so badly they might not be possible to repair, all the way to the absolutely pristine. There were also two great paintings on easels, and a statue. Trazyn honestly didn't know where to look first, but then the dinner set caught his attention.
"…" Feeling almost in a dream, Trazyn went to the dinner set and picked up a plate. He felt a shiver as he realized it was incredibly old, even for necrontyr artefacts… a good seventy million years old, dating to the earlier part of the necrontyr empire. They would have still been expanding at this stage. The plates were beautiful workmanship, the high arts of metallurgy and artistic talent, but unmarked by any Dynasty crest. That was completely unknown, Trazyn had not in all his life seen such a thing. "Where did you get these?" Trazyn asked, still staring at the plate. The Stormlord answered, his voice a soft rumble, like distant thunder.
"They came to us from the Thokt Dynasty. They were in the hands of Craftworld Ulthwe." The aeldari?! "They say they came from a museum. They have no idea of their history beyond that." Aeldari… a museum… Trazyn looked to the utensils and the glasses.
Carefully examining the utensils confirmed his suspicions. They were oversized for the ancient necrontyr, but the Old Ones were larger then necrontyr so these would be perfectly suited for their hands. The glasses as well, were a touch oversized, with longer stems. That would be needed, the length of a regular stem would not be suitable.
"Incredible. Truly incredible." Trazyn marveled at the dinner set. "I had never guessed something like this existed." Alone, this might be worth trading the wormhole generator for. Gently putting it down, Trazyn gave his attention to the rest of the artefacts. Orikan was already ignoring the plates and focusing on one of the paintings.
The other artefacts of the ancient necrontyr were very nice, and a few in particular were priceless. One particular vase might even replace the one Orikan had destroyed. (Trazyn tried not to think about that) The paintings were quite interesting, modern works from humans but depicting the ancient necrontyr. One was a hyper realistic portrait of the gladiatorial combat, two Overlords engaged in a duel to the – wait.
"Is that you?" Trazyn said, staring at the picture. That appeared to be Imotekh, but he was so young! Imotekh answered.
"Yes, an ancient duel with Overlord Kharamos… he insulted Osatek's mother." The sister of the Phaeron? How daring. "Apparently the duel made quite an impression on the boy, he was only a child. He was able to describe it to the artist, and Anhomqena described the arena." Yes, it was a truly beautiful depiction of the ancient arena, also hyper realistic. Trazyn could make out tiny details in the crowd, nothing had been spared. Also, he recognized the style.
"This is Aleksander's work. He is truly excellent," Trazyn remarked. He'd seen many, many works of the Fantastic Four when he'd been in Hope. The other picture was the one that interested Orikan and Trazyn went to examine it. "…" It was a very different kind of painting, one that used mixed media… Trazyn could recognize Hexi's work. An impressionist vision of ancient necrontyr civilization, it was textured and very organic. The color palette was very rich and the sky in this world was a pleasing shade of green. Trazyn wasn't sure how he felt about it, but he often felt that way about Hexi's work. "It is highly unusual," Trazyn said after a moment and Orikan made glyphs of amusement.
"You don't like it. Can I have it?" Trazyn was a bit surprised. Orikan rarely appreciated any kind of art. "I'm not sure why but I love it." Ah!
"Well, art is like that… certainly, I will give it to you." Trazyn could sense that the Stormlord was pleased and he knew why… he'd accepted these offers. But then, how could he not? That left the final item to be examined though, the statue.
It was a statue of Imotekh as he'd been before he'd died, an old and terrifyingly vital necrontyr. He was in his full wargear, staff in hand as he glared at something in the distance, likely an enemy. Trazyn circled the statue, fascinated by the depth of detail… he could see the tiny knots of ties, the little bronze charms that had been strung onto his cloak. Ancient symbols commemorating great victories, he could even read them and know the names of the battlefields. The cloak was full and flowing but did not entirely hide the Stormlord's body and Trazyn could see the bionics, the implants that had kept him so fearsome even in old age. Ah, it was incredible!
"This statue… this is amazing work. Who did this?" Trazyn asked. Ronan should be involved but Trazyn could tell it was not entirely his work. Art always left behind the fingerprints of the artist, so to speak, and this was someone he did not know.
"My son, Osatek, working with Ronan of Hope," Imotekh said and Trazyn shook his head, amazed.
"Perhaps they should continue to collaborate. This is better than Ronan's usual work," he said. Not that there was anything wrong with Ronan's usual work, it was lovely, but this was taken to another level. "Your son must be incredibly talented." Imotekh made no obvious sign but Trazyn fancied that pleased him greatly. "Are you sure that you want to give me this?" It seemed so precious, not as a relic, but as something for the Stormlord personally.
"Yes… if you do not take it, Osatek will see it as a rejection of his work." Oh. "He is very pleased to think that his efforts could be judged worthy of entering Solemnance." Well, in that case…
"Then I will let you know when the display featuring this is done so he can come pay a visit, and see his own work," Trazyn said and Imotekh actually did flash glyphs of pleasure and appreciation.
"There is one last thing… we also offer you a copy of the play we have created," Imotekh said and that pleased Trazyn greatly, and he responded with his own glyphs indicating that.
"That would be wonderful! I was going to ask for that." Solemnance actually had an acting troop, still slumbering and awaiting the time they could ply their craft. Perhaps he should awaken them soon, and start putting on shows. Ah, it had been so long since he truly opened Solemnance to the world… well, he should likely wait until the Silent King was vanquished. But then, why not? Although not just anyone would be allowed to visit… he would have to think about that. Also, he hadn't taken Adler and the Fantastic Four to Solemnance yet. He really should, Aleksander was very ill yet kept refusing biotransference, even when Reinhart offered to pay for it. The finest medical treatments available were helping him greatly, but for how much longer was up in the air. "Well, I absolutely cannot refuse… this is more than worth the wormhole generator." It was a priceless treasure, but so were all of these objects, the plates in particular. Ah, how incredible! Trazyn couldn't wait to display them.
He was going to have an absolutely wonderful time rearranging Solemnance for all of these treasures.
