Author's Note: For those interested, there are now eight advance chapters on P-atreon (remove the spaces and dash): p-atreon/ SkySage24.
Isha lounged on her throne of wood and crystal, staring silently down at Cadaith.
The self-proclaimed aristocrat squirmed under her gaze, looking guilty and embarrassed.
Letting him squirm a little more was tempting, but Isha took pity on him.
"So, what exactly happened?"
"I can explain!" Cadaith blurted out, then immediately winced. "I mean…I'm afraid things got slightly out of hand, Your Serenity."
"I noticed," Isha said dryly. "Still, I would like to hear your accounting of the events."
"Of course," Cadaith bowed his head. "We had been waiting for the humans to arrive…"
"We've been waiting for a week," Argon grumbled, leaning against a wall. "When are those humans going to get here?"
"They'll arrive when they arrive," Cadaith said, a touch of reproof in his tone. "We'll wait as long as it takes," Though if he was being honest with himself, he was getting tired of waiting too.
It was to be expected, however. Humans had to rely on the tides of the Aethyr to ferry them across interstellar distances, and those tides could be unpredictable at the best of times.
Now was certainly not such a time.
Nevertheless, Cadaith shared the restlessness of his soldiers. The refitted cruiser that Invaril had supplied for this mission was large enough to host both Cadaith's guard and the psychomaton squadron and well-stocked with supplies and basic comforts.
But it was still a far cry from the wide open spaces of Iyanden, and sitting around waiting for the humans to arrive made everyone on board all that more anxious for action. Cadaith in particular was eager to finally apply his new prowess in the battlefield, even if only in a limited capacity.
The humans couldn't arrive soon enough.
As if to echo his thoughts, an alert went off.
"Warp rift," Argon breathed.
Cadaith sprang to his feet, striding across the smooth black floors of the bridge to the holographic display at the centre, which flickered to life at this approach.
With a thought, he manipulated it, directing it to display what had set off the sensors.
In the space outside, a large, blocky ship had appeared. It was crude, obviously designed for raw strength and intimidation over speed and grace, painted in black and gold, with ostentatious ornaments attached to the sides and the top.
But said ornaments and decorations couldn't hide the heavy weapons and shielding the ship was positively bristling with, a far cry from the few ornaments that Iyanden's artisans had managed to attach to what had previously been a small ship meant for ferrying cargo for trade.
The humans had arrived.
"Well then," Cadaith murmured. "Let us greet our new allies."
Meanwhile, a star system away, in a mountain fortress, a very similar conversation was taking place.
The Emperor steepled his fingers, staring into his son's eyes. Horus seemed embarrassed but didn't back down, glaring back almost defiantly.
The silence continued as the Emperor waited patiently, content to let Horus begin the conversation.
Finally, Horus couldn't take it anymore. "It wasn't my fault!" He burst out.
The Emperor raised a single eyebrow. "I didn't say it was."
"Yes, but you were looking at me like-" Horus cut himself off, apparently realizing he was digging himself deeper. He sank deeper into his chair, crossing his arms, looking distinctly sulky.
But below that petulant veneer was genuine fear, of disapproval and anger.
"I am only waiting for you to tell me what happened," The Emperor said, belatedly realizing that perhaps he shouldn't treat his son in the same way as a soldier. "I have not passed judgment, and while things may have…gone further than initially intended, the mission was still a success. There were no casualties. A few of your Marines were injured but they will recover soon. You are not here for a reprimand, my son."
That seemed to ease Horus's mood, and his shoulders relaxed, almost imperceptible to a human or even another Primarch but obvious to the Emperor.
"Well, we arrived at the destination after almost a week…"
The Eldar ship was strange. Unlike Imperial designs, it was sleek and sharp, almost dagger-shaped, painted in silver hues that almost glowed against the inky blackness of the void. It was nothing at all like the Epona, which his father had lent to him for this mission.
"It looks almost fragile," Iacton Qruze, Captain of the Third Company of the Sixteenth Legion, grunted. He was tall, though shorter than Horus himself now, with polished grey armour. A rugged warrior with a good track record, Horus had chosen him for this mission.
Ideally, he would have liked to bring Ezekyle and Alyssa along, but their training wasn't complete yet. The First Captain of the Legion, Maral Lupus, had wanted to come but Horus had refused. Lupus was needed to manage and lead the legion back home, and without him, the other Captains didn't have anyone else they respected enough to obey.
Qruze was a good choice, a former Imperial soldier who had been a rising star in the ranks before he had caught the eyes of the Sixteenth Legion and been recruited for it.
"It does," Horus agreed. He had never seen a ship like this before, almost…crystalline.
He couldn't help but wonder how to break it, before forcibly dismissing the thought. They were here to work with the Eldar, not fight them.
"Hail the ship," Horus directed an order to the crew. "I want to talk with whoever's in charge." The Primarch snuck a look at the Custodes his father had assigned as his guards, but the golden giants were utterly still and silent, offering neither advice nor criticism.
The technician nodded, ducking her head as she input the commands into her console. "They're responding, Lord Primarch," She said after a moment. "Putting them on display right now."
The holo-monolith at the centre of the ship's strategium flickered to life, and a figure appeared, depicted in shimmering blue light.
The first thing that struck Horus was how…human the figure looked.
With long dark hair pulled back into a braid, and a humanoid frame, the figure didn't immediately come across as alien. At a closer look, the features were a little too smooth, and a little too perfect. Horus had seen imperial aristocrats with gene-engineering and surgeries to make themselves look better, but the features of the Eldar seemed to lack the plastek-like quality bestowed by Imperial rejuvenants somehow, more akin to a perfectly carved statute. It added to the feeling that there was something unnerving about them, something that screamed this creature wasn't human.
And of course, the ears were pointed, leaf-shaped rather than fully round.
But the eyes were undeniably inhuman. They were silver, a brighter and more vivid shade than Horus had seen in any human, even a Space Marine or a Custodes, almost like gems rather than eyes.
And yet…there was something about the Eldar that didn't quite measure up to Horus's expectations. He had expected someone like Lady Isha, even though his father had told him that she was exceptional by the standards of her people.
And there were similarities, yes, but the Eldar in front of him was just…lesser, compared to Lady Isha somehow. There was some indeterminable quality that was missing, something Horus couldn't quite describe but knew instinctively.
"You must be Horus Lupercal, Son of the Human Emperor," The Eldar said, his voice smooth and musical, too musical to be human. "I am Cadaith, Lord of the House of Ulthanesh and one of the Everqueen's Chosen Knights. It is good to meet you," He finished with a bow and a flourish.
"I am Horus Lupercal," The Primarch acknowledged, drawing himself up. Everqueen…that was one of Lady Isha's titles, his father had told him.
The reverence and respect imbued in the word when Cadaith said it, the pride in being one of her chosen knights…it implied a surprising level of respect and honour that had been accorded to Isha.
It reminded Horus of the way people spoke of his father, in a way.
"Now that we're here," Horus said. "When do we start killing Orks?"
The Eldar - Cadaith arched an eyebrow. "Eager, I see. Soon, but I thought we should meet face to face first if we are to fight together."
Horus suppressed a frown. His Marines were getting ansty after a week on board the ship without seeing any action, and if Horus was being honest with himself, so was he.
But Cadaith was right. He should at least meet the Eldar commander face to face once before they go into battle together.
"You can come onboard our ship, then," Horus made the invitation. "We can meet and discuss strategy."
There was a pause for a moment as Horus wondered whether his offer would be refused, but then Cadaith nodded sharply. "We would be honoured. I will come over in a moment."
Isha tapped a finger against the armrest of her throne, judging Cadaith's truthfulness, looking into his mind and memories.
He was telling the truth it seemed, and had made efforts to be diplomatic with Horus. His odd behaviour of pretending to be a noble had helped, strangely enough. Isha found Cadaith's pretence of being an aristocrat more amusing than offensive or foolish, for she remembered when her children had used nobility as a system of governance. But even she hadn't thought that his practice of courtly manners would help deal with the Imperium.
"So, what happened next?"
Up close, the human ship was even uglier than it had been from a distance.
"Are you certain about this, my lord?" Argon murmured from Cadaith's shoulder. "It is quite a risk."
"It is," Cadaith acknowledged. "But the Everqueen commanded us to work with these m-, humans, and I will not fail her."
Argon nodded reluctantly, unable to argue. Cadaith understood his captain's feelings, but he was determined to carry out his queen's orders to the best of his abilities.
Even if he didn't truly like or trust these humans.
Ahead of them, a section of the human ship slid open to admit the small craft that Cadaith and two of his guards had taken to cross the void.
Their craft drifted through the entrance, settling in on the floor of the docking bay, quiet as a whisper.
"Well," Cadaith said, putting his mask in place. "Let's make a good impression, shall we?"
The ramp lowered with a flick of his wrist, and then Cadaith and his guards descended.
The inside of the ship was as ugly as the outside, blocky and crude. The walls were grey, there were smaller but just as blocky craft in lines.
But the docking bay was at least practical, without the ridiculous and tasteless ornamentations outside. Cadaith appreciated the need for grandeur and decoration, but the Imperial aesthetic was simply not to his taste.
And in the centre of the bay stood the Primarch Lupercal and his guards, two heavily armoured soldiers who were just a little taller than the average Eldar, though perhaps that was down to their armour.
"Hail, Primarch Lupercal!" Cadaith said, raising his hand in a salute.
"So the Eldar were courteous at first?"
"Yes," Horus admitted. "I was surprised, after what you said. They were still arrogant, even condescending, but…not as rude as I thought they would be."
The Emperor nodded thoughtfully.
"They were also taller than I expected."
The Eldar were taller than Horus had thought they would be.
The hologram hadn't fully conveyed how tall, so it was a little surprising. They were still shorter than Horus himself, but he estimated that all three Eldar were easily seven feet, comfortably equal to an unarmoured Space Marine.
Taller than Lady Isha even if they lacked her presence, which was a little surprising.
Given she was a master of biomancy, Horus wondered if that was deliberate. Surely she could make herself taller if she wanted?
Of course, the Eldar weren't like the Space Marines with their boulder-like muscles bulging under their armour. They were perfectly proportioned, more like Horus himself, even if his own frame was considerably broader.
The leader, Cadaith, had donned a mask to conceal his face now, but all three were a little like statues that had come to life, perfectly sculpted creations that had somehow become living, breathing creatures with unnatural, lethal grace.
It was slightly unnerving, but Horus put it aside. He was the Son of the Emperor, Primarch of the Sixteenth Legion.
He would not be intimidated by strange-looking aliens.
"Welcome," Horus told them. "Now, shall we begin?"