Things were quiet on Iyanden tonight. The vision that had assaulted the Seer council of Iyanden had swept across the entire Craftworld, and all their sister vessels reported witnessing similar visions.
A thankful side-effect was that the experience had left everyone exhausted, so the sounds of arguments and fighting that had recently become the usual background noise of the Craftworld were gone.
Mehlendri enjoyed the chirping of crickets in one of the garden domes of the Craftworld, using the calm to relax and let her mind idle. Khaine's voice was finally absent from her background thoughts for the first time in decades.
"Farseer Mehlendri." The Autarch called from behind her, and she frowned.
"Autarch Filimerthex." She answered without looking at him. "Is your granddaughter alright?"
"She is shaken, but ultimately unaffected." Filimerthex chuckled.
"Just like you." Mehlendri said, tone accusatory. "What motivated you to experience motherhood?"
The Autarch was the only man to remain unaffected by the vision. Only he and all the women aboard Iyanden remained in control of their bodily functions after what they all went through.
"The same motivation that allows me to be on this ship." Filimerthex said as he shrugged. "Love."
"I have a hard time believing that." Mehlendri snorted. "Your consort left you thousands of years ago, before you came to us."
"Yet, it was she who shared her mind with me during the conception, pregnancy, and birth." Filimerthex sighed. "We did part ways eventually, but it was at her request."
"Now neither your consort, nor your daughter are with you." Mehlendri spoke slowly. "If you truly loved them, why did you only bring your granddaughter with you?"
"Well, things with the mother of my child naturally fell apart. I have no idea where she is, or what she's doing." Filimerthex said as he walked past Mehlendri. "She got tired of being part of a family, and I wanted to remain a parent. What we wanted no longer matched, so we parted ways and she moved on."
"And you daughter?"
"She disappeared into the pleasure districts of one of the Core Worlds after leaving her own daughter in my care." Filimerthex kept his back turned towards Mehlendri as he spoke. "She died there, before the Fall. I have no idea what happened to her soul."
"Is that why you brought your infant granddaughter to us back then, begging us to take her into our care?"
She remembered when Filimerthex first came to them. In his arms was a newborn babe, a young soul with no previous experience of reincarnation. At that time, his back was not straight with pride, nor were his features calm and collected. He had banged on the enclave gates like a madman with tears in his eyes, crying for help.
Mehlendri had been the first one to talk to him, and in her pity for the child she had allowed him to enter the enclave gates. It was only later that she learned where this man had come from, as well as just how old and how dangerous he was.
"I do not know how She who Thirsts touches us, but I did not want her family's fate to be hers."
"You know that implies you too are touched by She who Thirsts." Mehlendri said cautiously, warning him of the accidental admission he had made.
There was a moment of silence, then the Autarch turned towards her, meeting her gaze head on.
"I am."
The garden fell silent around them as the crickets quieted themselves, hiding under the leaves and grasses as they felt the air grow heavy. Then frost began to spread across the garden freezing all the insects and plants in place as Mehlendri gathered her psychic strength, pulling back a figurative fist in preparation to strike.
The Autarch merely blinked in response, neither drawing out his psychic talents, nor tensing his muscles in preparation to fight.
"You know what I value most of all." He said, while he continued to lock eyes with the Farseer.
"Your granddaughter." Mehlendri responded as frost continued to spread around her.
Filimerthex nodded once. "As long as you and your Craftworld brethren protect her, you have my leash in your hand."
The man before her only cared for one thing, his last surviving blood relative. His granddaughter was not remarkable in any way. She was just another of the younglings brought up in the sheltered environment of the enclave that would become the Craftworld. Her relationship with Filimerthex was as normal as it could be under the circumstances. She might view him more as a father than a grandfather, but besides that there was nothing of note.
That was the only fact allowing Mehlendri a quiet night's sleep. Otherwise, she would not have been able to rest without worry, even if he was bound in chains and sealed in the depths of the Craftworld's bowels.
But, both of them already knew this, back when Mehlendri first found out where Filimerthex came from while they were in the enclave on the Core World.
"Did that vision change your opinion of our relationship?"
That was the only reason to bring up something that they both knew.
"You see it in your younglings as well." Filimerthex remained still as the frost crawled across his boot. "Their vision is hampered by both pride and obsession over purity."
"Do you wish to take your granddaughter from the Craftworld?" Mehlendri asked. Crystals of ice floated around her like diamond dust. The drawstring of her spell was pulled tight, the psychic bolt nocked and ready to fire with a single thought. She would protect everyone on Iyanden, even if it was from their own blood.
"No, I will not risk the voice of She who Thirsts entering her ears." Filimerthex said as he shook his head. "However, she should be allowed to know what exists beyond the Eldar's boundaries."
The two continued their stand-off as the frost climbed up Filimerthex's legs and waist.
"We are a beautiful and bestial race. Hiding one-half of that blinds and binds us, making us far less than what we once were."
Mehlendri snorted. "It is because we are lesser than those on the Core Worlds that we survived." She muttered. "We know nothing of their pleasures and pains, keeping us untainted by temptation."
"Yet, that also makes us ignorant of what we face."
"Then what do you propose, Autarch?"
"I do not know, Farseer Mehlendri." He shrugged. "But, I saw something there in that woman's eyes."
"What did you see?"
Mehlendri did not bother asking who he was referring to. She had seen the golden haired woman with silver eyes as well. In Mehlendri's vision, the Goddess of Life looked upon a massive burgundy crystal encasing a shadowy form placed in the ruins of Iyanden. The golden haired woman sighed sadly before turning towards the Farseer's withering body and bloated belly. Mehlendri had tried to take control of something she did not understand just as Idrineth did in order to restore her people and her home.
"Love, even for me after she saw all that I have done and wanted to do."
Disgust furrowed Mehlendri's brow as she understood what he meant.
"You were the reason for your daughter's disappearance into the pleasure districts of the Core World."
"Not exactly." Filimerthex shrugged. "But, ultimately, the responsibility lies with me."
"Should I restrain you from seeing your granddaughter?"
"If things ever get to that, this…" He said as he raised his left arm, letting the wide sleeve of his robe and shirt slip down revealing a beetle black gauntlet. "will be enough."
A long sigh exited the Farseer's lips as she allowed the psychic energies inside her to dissipate. The frost forming around them evaporated; freeing the crickets, grasses, and the lower half of the Autarch. Filimerthex was not a threat to Iyanden. She had come to that conclusion ages ago, while watching him with his granddaughter. So long as he served the Craftworld, he would be allowed aboard it.
"What did you want, Autarch?" She asked exhaustedly.
"I have triangulated the position of a certain planet I saw in my version of the vision." The Autarch said firmly. "I want you and the other Seers to steer us in its direction."
The Farseer glared at the Autarch. To go in that direction meant to approach the being that was there; the symbolization of motherhood so strong that incorrectly activating it would bring the malformed miracle they all saw into reality. The Aeldari may be saved by it, but the Eldar of Iyanden would all die in return. She currently served the Craftworld, and even if it meant the salvation of the rest of her species, the price was too high for her.
But, they could not stand idly by while the daughter of fate churned the waters every Craftworld sailed upon.
"The Seer council will convene tomorrow morning. Whatever made that choice does not want us arriving any time soon."
"Thank you, Farseer Mehlendri." The Autarch bowed before the Farseer, but the best she could do was nod vacantly in return.
She was so very tired at this moment.
"Leave me, Autarch." She said as she turned away from him. "I wish to be at peace for a little while longer, before Khaine comes to claim me again."
"As you wish, Farseer." Filimerthex bowed again, before exiting the garden. Mehlendri looked up at the starry void that was allowed to be visible through the garden dome of the simulated night time of their ship, listening to the crickets chirp around her once again.
—-
Morning on the Craftworld begins with compulsory chores; the ritual necessary to remind all those who had no need to work the importance of doing so regardless.
In the agri-domes, Eldar picked fruit and dug up tubers by hand, while tilling the soil with only their psychic talents and fingers, even though the drones would have done a far more efficient and higher quality job.
Filimerthex worked the earth just like the others. There were no special privileges here. This was a reminder of the importance of humility and service to the Craftworld, in order to ground even the highest ranking Eldar and keep their pride in check. He usually accomplished this ritual in the artificial forests or grasslands in the other domes where more of the martially adept Eldar hunted and skinned the wild animals kept there.
He had abstained from attending the morning Seer council. Milethea and possibly even Thulor would question Mehlendri's motivations for approaching the anomaly that had affected them all, and it would be better for him to remove himself, if only to prevent any political accusations levied against the oldest Farseer.
"Grandfather, you're pulling the tubers out all wrong." A slightly shorter Eldar girl quipped, ears twitching with frustration.
This was Filimerthex's granddaughter, a 210 year old Eldar girl with almost blood red hair. She was the equivalent of a teenager in Eldar society, and as such her pride was getting the better of her.
"They're coming out just fine, Iyandra." Filimerthex sighed as he pulled out another engorged dark blue plant root out from the soil with his bare hands. Today they were harvesting a sort of yam that formed a sticky paste when ground down. It could be eaten as a side dish, or used a sort of reverse condiment for stronger tasting foods in order to diffuse the harsh tastes they might have.
"You're pulling them out in pieces. They'll only last a week before oxidizing at this rate." The girl sighed. "Look, you have to bring them up with their inter root nodules still connected. That way, the root skins are unbreached, keeping the tubers alive, healthy, and fresh until it's time to cook them."
She stretched out a hand to the next plant, and the ground began to tremble as she psychically agitated the soil around it. The vibrating grains bounced against each other, acting like the molecules in a boiling liquid, allowing her to slowly pull the entire plant from the ground.
"Well done, Iyandra." Filimerthex clapped his hands. "But, aren't you taking this a bit too seriously? Vibrating the soil to cause fluidification is something the drones are supposed to do. You don't have to improvise in order to mimic them."
"The pursuit of perfection in a job well done is not an evil thing." Iyandra said as she brushed a few clumps of dirt still hanging from the mass of interconnected tubers. "The lazy are the first to fall, and it is because we were wily that we managed to run away in time."
"Very well memorized." Filimerthex praised her with a wry smile. "But, the point of this labor is to remember humility. This isn't a contest, Iyandra."
"Then what better way would there be to be humble, than to admit to your granddaughter she is better than you?" Iyandra retorted with a defiant smile.
Filimerthex snorted. The teachers and martial instructors aboard Iyanden were the ones who were supposed to help the young souls learn their limits, as well as when and where one could spout unnecessary witticisms. However, her spirit seemed strong enough for an earlier lesson.
"Alright, tomorrow we go to the hunting domes for our chores." He said as he took the tubers from her and placed it into a basket. "Then it will be your turn to learn the humility of learning from your elders."
"I accept, grandfather." She said as she dusted herself off. "But, you may not remain the teacher for long."
Filimerthex smiled. Iyandra had only done chores in the agricultural domes on account of her being too young to enter the hunting domes unattended. It would be interesting to see how long her attitude would last when she was forced to skin and gut an animal with only her bare hands. The smell and feeling of offal was usually enough to reduce the inexperienced to tears.
Additionally, if she wanted to make this a race, he would gladly oblige, although he could guess how it would end. It would serve as an important lesson for both the importance of life, and the dangers of creating frivolous challenges or competitions.
Suddenly, Iyandra blinked as she caught sight of someone approaching them.
"Farseer Mehlendri." She bowed, wiping the playful smile from her face as she put on her mask of best behavior.
"At ease, Iyandra. I am merely here to do my service to the Craftworld." Mehlendri smiled back at the girl before passing by Filimerthex. "The Seer council has agreed to allow a scouting party to be sent." She whispered.
Filimerthex nodded, then replied his thanks with sign language from his left hand.
'Take heed, Filimerthex.' Mehlendri continued with a psychic message. 'We merely saw that there was no danger in doing so. Iyanden's current path remains unchanged.'
'I understand.' He replied.
A few of the other Seers joined the other Eldar in the fields.
"Ugh. The little ones have started their pranks with Ulrissor again." Iyandra groaned.
The Farseer had started working washing the remaining tubers the other Eldar brought in their baskets at an artificial creek. Smaller Eldar children were sneaking around behind the Farseer, picking a freshly washed set of tubers from the basket on his left, smudging them a bit with their muddy hands, and silently placing them on his right.
"Leave them be." Filimerthex snorted. "Ulrissor knows what they're doing to him."
Iyandra sighed before watching the children giggle as Ulrissor took one of the tubers they had dirtied and washed it again. "Odd, I never thought he was the type to play along with the little ones."
"He's not playing along with them. He's using them." Filimerthex muttered. "As long as he has to wash tubers, he gets to stay near the creek where he can continuously wash his hands. If he finished washing, he'd have to find some other chore to do, and he dislikes touching dirt."
"Funny." Iyandra said with a strained smile. "I guess it's because he's a child at heart that he gets along so well with them."
'Teenagers.' Filimerthex thought to himself as he smiled as well.
That age group often thought themselves more mature than those younger than them, while being whittier and smarter than their elders. However, a real adult wouldn't have made a wager they had no way of winning.
Filimerthex was also an Eldar, and he was not above nursing wounded pride. He was pulling out all the stops on the hunting trip tomorrow morning. A mature Eldar waited for the perfect opportunity to return a favor or insult. That would be another valuable lesson for Iyandra.
"Milethea is glaring at you again." Iyandra said as they walked to the creek with their baskets of tubers.
"She has her reasons." Filimerthex shrugged.
"Was your plan with the green skins and humans that distasteful?" Iyandra asked as she clutched her basket to her chest. "I heard that there was quite a vocal argument at that time."
'It's not just that.' He thought to himself, but it was a part of why she disliked him. Might as well play along with that assumption.
"Did you hear about what I did?" Filimerthex asked as he knelt down near the creek, and picked out one of the tubers to wash.
"Only rumors." Iyandra replied as she knelt down next to him, pulling out one of her large interconnected tuber roots and submerging the entire thing in the creek. "Something about distracting the green skins away from our Maiden Worlds." She swished the plant around in the water, letting the flow of the creek carry away the dirt.
"That's the gist of it." Filimerthex answered as he scrubbed his own singular tuber with his hands.
"That alone should not have made her so angry." His granddaughter said with a raised eyebrow. "What did you do, grandfather?"
There was a slight pause as he pondered what to tell her. If this was before the vision, he would have bluffed his way out of the question or allowed her to make her own conclusions. However, the silver eyes in his vision were looking at him even now. They reflected him as who he was, and although they were saddened by what they saw, they did not reject him.
'You're the strongest person I know, father. That's why I can leave her with you.' The last words of his daughter played out in his mind.
Filimerthex drew in a breath, then began to talk.
"You know our histories of the Orks?" He asked.
"Yes. It is said that the great Eldanesh broke them by using their own powers against them after suffering great hardship." Iyandra spoke, reciting history from memory. "He convinced them that they were the strongest, so in their brutal search for greater foes, they turned on themselves."
"Ah…" Filimerthex replied. "So that is how they teach it nowadays."
Iyandra blinked in surprise before giving her grandfather a narrow eyed look. "What do you mean, grandfather?" He spoke strangely, as if he knew a different history to her.
"An Ork…" Filimerthex muttered. "Cannot be conversed with, and hence you cannot convince them of anything."
"But, then how were the green skins shattered?"
"By using the only language they know. Violence."
"That does not sound like the lessons."
"I never said we used violence on them."
Iyandra's breath caught in her throat for a moment.
"We allowed the green skins to brutalize us?" She whispered to him.
"An Ork thrives on battle. Fighting them gives them what they want most." Her grandfather said quietly. "We lost on purpose, over and over again for thousands of years against certain tactics. We let them kill our bodies and traveled back from the Othersea so we could die to them again. Some were even ordered to be taken prisoner by them to make their victories seem even greater than the charade we made for them."
Iyandra's face flushed at what she heard. Her people losing on purpose to the green skins was a humiliating concept. The creatures could barely talk properly. It was only their sheer numbers that made them pose a threat to the Eldar. The thought of the hero of her people forcing all those who followed him to endure such an indignation filled her with rage.
"Eldanesh certainly did face a great amount of hardship convincing the others to follow his strategy." Filimerthex chuckled as he pulled out the cleaned yam and placed it in a drying bin. "But it worked. The Orks grew weak and slovenly with their easy victories, and their belief in the strength of the tactics we let them win with gradually became the only way for them to act." He picked another tuber from his basket and began to wash it while simultaneously motioning with his head to the plant in Iyandra's hand, reminding her to scrub it clean. "Those taken prisoner provided information on their kultur as they called it, and when they finally believed that they were the strongest and most powerful beings in the galaxy, it didn't take long to convince them that the only ones worth fighting were themselves." Filimerthex chuckled to himself again before continuing. "Of course, their disagreement with each other ended up being how best to fight, and we laid the seeds for that discord by only losing in certain ways against specific groups of Orks."
Iyandra let out a deep breath, letting her anger exit with the hot air before roughly scrubbing the mass of tubers submerged in the creek.
"If the Orks were allowed to win, why were they only on certain prison worlds until now." She asked after having calmed down enough.
"A genocide is not a battle, Iyandra." Filimerthex said as he cleaned off his third yam. "Their splintered fleets and disorganized cities didn't last long in the clutches of the black holes we dropped on them. Since not even light can escape its gravitic grip, the other Orks knew nothing of their deaths. Hence, there was no battle, there was no fight. Even now their splintered tribes believe in the false strength of the tactics we allowed them to win with, not knowing that the different ways of waging war they convinced themselves to be the best were all taught to them by the Aeldari. Another gift of Eldanesh in a sense."
"A gift?" Iyandra said as she wrinkled her nose.
"It is a lot easier to kill an enemy when they only attack in a certain premeditated way."
She nodded at that, then frowned. "But, we cannot do the same thing now." She said, tone accusatory.
The Eldar could no longer reincarnate as the Aeldari once had, but if that was the case, this entire history story had nothing to do with why Milethea disliked Filimerthex, nor what he had done.
"No, we cannot." Filimerthex nodded. "However, there is no need to defeat the Orks anymore."
Iyandra snorted at that. "The green skins spread like a plague, grandfather." Even now, their numbers grew with the patrol fleets of the Aeldari empire no longer able to provide the periodic orbital bombardment to thin their numbers.
"They do, but so do others. The Orks are hardly the only expansionist race."
A chill passed over Iyandra.
"What did you do, grandfather?"
"I reminded them why the Eldar are not worth fighting, and provided them with an alternative that seemed more fun." He shrugged. "I had our Guardians find Mon-keigh soldiers under assault from Chaos or one of our ex-client races. You would be surprised how often they run into the K'nib." Filimerthex chuckled as his granddaughter froze. "Once we rescued them from their plight, we provided them safe passage to the prison worlds of the Orks."
"That was why Milethea accused you of putting us at risk." Iyandra lowered her voice instinctively. "If the humans find out what you did, it would mean war between us."
"By the time they realize what has happened, they will have already forgotten everything that led up to it." Her grandfather snorted. "Besides, there is about as much diplomacy to be had with the Mon-keigh as the Orks. You've heard what they've done recently on the outer rim, haven't you? There should be rumors of looted Soul Engines and stripped down Psychomatons going around Iyanden. We shall take from them as they will from us." His voice was bitter and dark as he spoke. "Whatever bargain or treaty we can make with the Mon-keigh will be forgotten in one of their miniscule generations, or perhaps even sooner. Elections have a funny effect of wiping their memories when they should really be a moment to hold those in power accountable for all their sins."
For a moment, there was only the sound of rushing water, and the splash of hands scrubbing away dirt.
"Do not pity them, Iyandra. Ultimately, it will be their choice whether to fight or flee from the Orks. If they should choose to fight, let them stumble from one self-inflicted disaster to the next. There is no need for the Eldar to care for the fate of the Mon-keigh when they care so little about what happens to their own kin."
"I can see why Milethea is worried about you, grandfather." Iyandra said dryly. "Pitting the green skins and humans against each other, even if they do not notice our subterfuge, is dangerous. The green skins could grow stronger with every battle, and the humans will become more hostile and reactionary."
"It is as you say." Filimerthex nodded. "But, at the same time it keeps both the Orks and the Mon-keigh busy with each other, leaving no time for them to encroach upon our Maiden Worlds and the Exodites. I orchestrated these events to ensure our brethren remain unmolested by aliens, allowing the Craftworlds to focus on the activities of Chaos. We have enough enemies in the immaterium, Iyandra. Every Ork that kills a Mon-keigh, and every Mon-keigh that slays an Ork is another alien we do not have to worry about."
He sighed and tossed another washed tuber into the pile of clean ones.
"Besides, that was only part of my argument with Milethea. She was more upset when I requested to barter with Commorragh."
"You wanted to entreat with the Dark City?" Iyandra hissed under her breath.
"They're the only place in this galaxy that can produce realistic enough clone bodies of Eldar." Filimerthex shrugged. "The Orks needed to think themselves victorious, and that required corpses. I purchased the bodies from an old contact of mine and had our Guardians set them up so when the Orks eventually overran us, they could butcher the flesh puppets left behind."
"What was the point of all of that?" Iyandra whispered. Surely merely forcing the Eldar to retreat would be victory enough for any other race.
"Orks live for a Proppa Foight, as they call it. They dislike it when all they see are shadows, snipers, and sabotage. Iyanden and Biel-Tan's Guardians spent several years on the new and old worlds of the Orks, irritating and annoying them with the tactics they hate most. Once they were frustrated enough, we finally led them to where we wanted them to think we were. There they found stumbling simpletons who neither screamed nor struggled when they stabbed them. We released the Mon-keigh on those worlds soon after, and they provided ample entertainment for the Orks, as well as coordinates to more Mon-keigh worlds."
"That is not the way we are taught to act." Iyandra muttered.
"It is not the Eldar way." Filimerthex nodded. "But, it is the way the Aeldari have always fought."
A/N These are Writer Notes I've copied and pasted from the Space Battle Forums. All the chapters have one, but I'm only putting the ones I think are necessary to fully appreciate the chapter here.
Title: It is pretty self-descriptive. Additionally, the original draft of this chapter was on my pa-tr-on for about 3 weeks at time of posting, so for those of you who are interested in early access, the option is there.
Main Part: We never get a good view of what happens on a Craftworld in private, but there are certain rules that are said to be constant.
1. All Eldar participate in some form of manual labor to remember the importance of work and cooperation.
2. Their society is still post-scarcity, and so as long as the Craftworld is unbreached, there is no War, Disease, or Madness upon the ship.
3. The Avatar chamber is at the heart of every Craftworld, and these shards caused a war between almost every Craftworld shortly after the Fall.
These rules remain true, even in 40K, with the only two known events of disease spreading on a Craftworld is Lugganath, which was the Craftworld that lost its Seers to Nurgle himself and another completely corrupted Craftworld that appears in Chaos Gate: Daemonhunter, which has been defeated by the 14th Legion and serves as a breeding ground for virulent strains of the Bloom Plague that was unleashed in the sector.
The Path system is a later introduction, and originally includes only Aspect Shrines. However, some Craftworlds seem to have adapted this philosophy to apply to every aspect of life, including reproduction and parenting. Some Craftworlds, according to Gav Thorpe, have paths dedicated to 'creating' more Eldar, while others are dedicated to 'nurturing' the newborn Eldar.
Additionally, all Eldar born after the Fall have to undergo a form of psychic restraint in order to prevent them from hearing Slaanesh's voice accidentally through the Warp. This is partially used to explain why the 40K Eldar are often viewed as lesser and weaker by the Necron in canon.
Iyanden, being the Craftworld that aims to restore the Aeldari empire, is quite pragmatic in their culture. They will do whatever they have to in order to survive, and save the greatest number of their people. As the Craftworld that later became infamous for their usage of their dead in order to protect their living, I think it is a fitting culture to ascribe to them. This is, before we get to the matter of the SoulShrive and other items from the Supplementary Iyanden Codex.
This is shown by Mehlendri in this story, who is one of the core members of Iyanden's legends. She is the inventor and discoverer of the Spirit Stone system as well as the Infinity Circuit, and it is her Spirit Stone that laid the foundation for Iyanden's Infinity Circuit.
Regarding the part with the Orks, this is my in-story reason for why the Orks see the Eldar as "Pansies/Panzees", despite having been defeated by the Aeldari and being imprisoned by them for tens of thousands of years.
To elaborate, the method by which Eldanesh splintered the Orks, was envisioned due to the Orks nickname for the Aeldari (Eldar, Exodite, Druhkari) being "Pansies/Panzees". Just like Space Marines remain "Beakies" long after the Corvus pattern helmet fell out of common usage, the Orks' genetic memory or Waaagh field retains the first name the Orks come up with for a very long time. Thus, the first time the Orks ran into the Aeldari, the impression they got from them was that they were "Pansies/Panzees". i.e. they were easy to defeat.
From a cultural perspective, it also makes sense. Fighting an Ork is counter-productive. They only enjoy the activity more, and even if you do rout them, it is impossible to make them cower or surrender for a long period of time. Eventually, they or the spores they leave behind will attack again. That is what the Orks are. Therefore, the only way to truly defeat an Ork is to defeat them by losing, defeat them by not winning at all, or defeat them in such a way that they do not realize that there was a battle to begin with.
As long-time allies of the Krork, the Aeldari should know these traits of the lesser offspring of the Krork, and with their ability to reincarnate and documented usage of blackholes as weapons, the Aeldari are perfectly capable of conducting the first and third option in order to defeat the orks.
There is also another layer of sub-text here. Filimerthex specifically refers to the humans as Mon-keigh, displaying a genuine dislike and disrespect towards them while referring to the Orks as Orks. Iyandra is the reverse, where she refers to humans as humans, and Orks as green-skins. This shows that Filimerthex and Iyandra have opposing views regarding the aliens. Iyandra sees humans as aliens one can have a discussion with, while the Orks are just barbaric animals. Filimerthex is the opposite, where there is a begrudging respect towards the Orks, while showing a great disdain for the unreliability of humans and their primitive nature. Apparently, he finds their ease at being manipulated by their politicians to be frustrating, and that is enough evidence for him that they are not much better than Mon-keigh in terms of intelligence level. Quite frankly, seeing the number of voters who forget the campaign promises broken going through the mental gymnastics necessary to justifying voting for a proven liar this many times has me sympathetic to Filimerthex's viewpoint.
On a side note, for those readers who think the Eldar are a bit over the top with their racism and manipulations, you have to remember that this story is based heavily on canon material, but just as Isha has decided to work with the Emperor unlike canon, the Eldar will gradually transition from the Mon-keigh hating Xenos to something… different. If the earlier interlude 10,000 years later was anything to go by, attitudes towards humans have mellowed to the point that some Eldar are willing to look for their literal "soul mate" amongst the humans.
Just like any society has a hard time shrugging off prejudice, the Eldar will need some time to acclimatize to the idea that not every human is a primitive forgetful rabid endlessly avaricious plague.
