Author's Note: I'm going on a short weekend holiday this Friday-Sunday, so Saturday's chapter will be skipped. Sorry about that, guys. See you all in a week. (Jun 17th).
As always, if anyone finds this so egregious that they want a refund for the month's sub, DM me. With my planned holidays, I think there will be another (or two, idk yet) short one in August and then a week-long one in October when I have a trip planned to Toscana.
Or there might not be one at all if my backlog grows to a size where I'm comfortable skipping an entire week of writing without stopping posting. Who knows. All I know is that when my backlog shrinks down to sub-one-week-ahead, my anxiety starts acting up like crazy.
YAPPING OVER, ONTO THE CHAPTER!
******
Amberley Veil stared at the massive circular structure hidden inside a titanic cavern, which itself could be found on an inhospitable rocky planet in this desolate star system just a stone's throw away from Vallia.
“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Echida asked, though Amberley wasn’t sure whether the woman was talking to her or merely to herself. She certainly liked the sound of her own voice, though it was not the simple vanity she’d associate with nobles. No, Echidna was more like an artist who had great pride in her work, which just so happened to also include her own body. “A structure built by a species extinct for sixty million years, still in use to this day. Sixty million years, and no one managed to eclipse the Old Ones’ mastery of the Immaterium.”
And that right there was why Amberley was still here, not back in the Damocles Gulf. Once she gets talking, like it has just happened, Echidna sometimes revealed information that the Ordo Xeno would have spent fortunes to learn. They had always believed that the Webway and its Gates were Eldar technology, perhaps pre-Fall, considering they couldn’t make new ones and the techno-sorcery involved differed greatly from their usual technology. There was just one problem.
“Indeed,” the Tau Ethereal ‘Coldstone’ replied with a thoughtful hum, standing a few metres away and likewise staring at the gigantic Webway Gate that could fit an Imperial Light Cruiser through it. “So this structure connects to this sub-spatial dimension these ‘Old Ones’ created?”
“Close enough.” Echidna shrugged. “The Webway is one of the fastest and most dependable means of FTL travel right up there with Necron Eternity Gates, Innertialess Drives and some Warp Gates … although some of those latter ones are in a sorry state, making the ride through them a bit perilous.”
Wasn’t that the truth? After centuries of service as an Imperial Inquisitor, there were very few things that could make Amberley Veil fear for her life, and riding through the Jericho-Maw Warp Gate was one of them. All the way through, it felt like the ship transporting her might come apart at the seams at any moment, despite it being her own Space Yacht outfitted with the best Gellar Field generator her limitless authority and funds could get her.
“The Necrons have three different forms of FTL travel, none of which relies on the Warp?” Amberley asked, her lips set in a thin line.
“Yep, or more,” Echidna said. “Eternity Gates are essentially stabilised temporary wormholes maintained between two gates. The Inertialess Drives are … fuck me if I know how those work, but they do. Dolmen Gates however... now those are interesting. They are knock-off Webway Gates that connect to the Webway itself. They are of C’tan design and if I remember correctly, the first prototypes were made by Nyadra’Zatha, the Burning One, so it could spread its flames into the Webway.”
Amberley cast a quick sideways glance at the sole Eldar in their group, the one Echidna had introduced as ‘Pathfinder Kaylith of Alaitoc’. It was always hard to read Eldar with their inhuman features and stoic demeanour, but this one seemed a bit freer with her expression than the norm, based on Amberley’s limited experience at least.
Even as a member of the Ordo Xenos, she rarely ran into Eldar, primarily having to deal with Genestealer cults and infestations, or Tau schemes. Even excluding those two, Orks were a much more present threat than the Eldar, especially of the Craftworld variety. Their darker cousins caused the majority of the trouble, with Corsairs coming in at close second and Craftworlders in the far third.
Not that she needed any experience to see the unnatural paleness of the Eldar’s skin and the diluted pupils. If she were to guess, the Xeno was mildly horrified by the topic of this conversation. Rightly so, because from what Amberley had learned, the Necrons were an ancient myth that was coming back to haunt them after their Fall. But sixty million years? That timescale was hard to imagine, considering humans were living in caves just a mere hundred thousand years ago. That both Necron and Eldar history went that far back, and that they’d fought a war that supposedly sundered gods … well, trying to accept that information was still a work in progress.
“So, question to you two, Pathfinder, Inquisitor,” Echidna said, spinning around to nail the two of them with a stare. “As far as I know, the Drukhari all live in Commoragh, but now it seems they have a settlement in the local portion of the Webway. What am I walking into? Some Corsair hideout? A raiding outpost? Maybe a breakaway faction or Kabal that got fed up with Vect’s rule but didn’t have the guts to rebell?”
Just those questions revealed a disturbing depth and width of knowledge she had no right of knowing. Even the Ordo Xenos only knew rumours, if even that, about Commoragh itself or how Dark Eldar society — if it could even be called that — functioned. Amberley glanced at the Eldar Warlock, who wore an expression showing she was similarly disconcerted.
“A raiding outpost, if I were to guess,” the Eldar answered, her speech surprisingly lacking that obnoxious haughty lilt Eldar always defaulted to in Amberley’s experience. It was always either the scornful, disdainful sneers of the warrior-types or the stoic, dismissive aloofness of their psykers. This Eldar seemed normal, her demeanour and speech oddly … human, almost. Even if that flowery, lyrical language she spoke would never allow her to fully cast off that innate pretentiousness that was baked into it on a fundamental level. “And an old one, if it grew to this size. Is this region of space particularly rife with warfare, or full of systems largely left undefended by a more powerful spacefaring civilisation?”
“Yes, the Imperium and the local Tau Sept had been butting heads over these handful of systems for … how long?” Echidna asked, glancing her way.
“Roughly twelve-hundred years,” Amberley said simply, which was quickly confirmed by a stately nod from the Tau Ethereal.
“Yes, that would do it,” the Eldar said with a sigh. “Sounds like a region ripe for raiding and gathering slaves.”
“Wouldn’t the over-militarised worlds of this region be more prepared to counter them than other regions?” Echidna asked.
“The Eladrith Ynneas have an unending thirst not only for pain slaves, but also for combat slaves to throw into their fighting pits and have them do battle to entertain their masters,” the Eldar said. “A single unique or powerful combat slave could be worth more than hundred pain slaves … and by pain slaves, I mean ‘civilians’.”
“They nabbed an Ethereal once, didn’t they?” Echidna mused, making the Tau in their midst stiffen. “Aun’Shi, if I recall. He’s something of a hero among your people, isn’t he?”
“He was,” the Tau replied simply, appearing stoic to all outside observers despite the note of respect and grief Amberley detected in his voice.
“Right, so proper Drukhari and not some Corsair hideout?” Echidna asked again.
“I can’t be absolutely certain, but Corsairs rarely, if ever, make even semi-permanent settlements,” the Eldar said. “To be a Corsair is to be free, unbound. They like to wander around on their ships, or fleets, never settling down for long.”
“Ever been one?” Echidna asked with a curiously raised eyebrow. “I know most Outcasts end up there, and even some of your greatest heroes spent some time as Corsairs.”
“No,” the Eldar replied quickly, in a tone that some might have called harsh. Then she caught herself and her tone softened considerably as she continued, “I became an Outcast to escape the pressure of having to follow an Asuryani Path, not to escape my duty to my Craftworld.”
“Tetchy,” Echidna said with tangible amusement. “Oh well, I’ll have time to unravel the mysteries you hold later, we have a Webway to explore and some Drukhari to murder. Come along, we will take a smaller shuttle.”
*****
The trip had taken considerably longer than it could have, primarily because I decided to spend a week back on Vallia prime to spend some time with my daughters and thoroughly upgrade the moon’s defences. By the time I left once more it sported a fully functional Blackstone Pylon array to ward off Warp-based shenanigans and the latest iteration of my surveillance network to counter more subtle Daemonic scheming — they did like to work through cultists or cat’s paws when outright invasion was off the table — or Necron infiltration.
Thankfully, I didn’t need to intervene in any aspect of the world’s governance. Alpha was handling most things, the civilian government was still in its infancy but they were setting up at what I felt like was a reasonable pace and Valenith handled what few threats popped up.
The Orkz were … there. I had a bunch of them aboard the Sovereign, having taken them along at Val’s urging since this lot was apparently the best behaved ones that came out on top in some Ork tournament thingy they held. Oh well, I could throw them at the Drukhari or even the Necrons. Throgg and that chef Ork — what was his name again? — was among them, but neither of those two were at any threat of dying unless they tried to tank something like a Gauss Annihilator with their big empty heads.
Val also convinced me — he damn near begged — to allow him a shot at convincing the Eldar currently stuck in my freezer to come into my service. So far he’d avoided meeting them, considering I hadn’t agreed yet. He was surprisingly mindful of the fact that I didn’t want knowledge of my ability to save Eldar from Slaanesh’s greedy control to spread quite yet … or maybe ever.
Again, souls in my Realm probably affected me in some way, and I didn’t want to take in just anyone, and I most certainly didn’t want to invite in thousands of innately powerful psykers. For all I knew, if enough Eldar Seers grouped their psychic might together, they might even be able to do something to my soul if I gave them free access to it. Hell, what if they could usurp my Realm? What if one of them opened a backdoor for some asshole Eldar God like Cegorach to just waltz in like he owned the damned place? No, I wanted- I needed to be selective.
A substantial amount of my time was also spent appeasing Selene. She’d been rather cross with me for nearly dying due to getting greedy, especially after I promised her to be careful and she’d made sure I knew it once she was done making sure I wouldn’t have a nervous breakdown about the event. She didn’t sulk, nor did she give me the silent treatment or make me sleep on the metaphorical couch, she just let me feel the full breadth of her disappointment and hurt, which was a thousand times more effective. My passive empathy combined with her actually making an effort to project her emotions at me … yeah. It wasn’t fun.
My focus snapped back to the present as the Webway Gate loomed up ahead, its titanic structure taking up the entire viewport as our little shuttle floated up to the fizzling portal filling up the inside of the circular gate. Space itself was pulled apart, a single infinitesimal gap within the fabric of space stretched to fill the gate and held taut by its arcane machinery.
The simmering kaleidoscope of not-colours that was the portal filled the entire viewport, and then we slipped through. I felt the change as if I was passing through a thin film, but my more advanced senses bombarded me with a massive explosion of data as we languidly floated into an entire new dimension.
As far as my regular senses went, we were inside a titanic natural cavern the likes of which never would have been able to exist in realspace without something to support it. The shuttle looked like a grain of sand in the yawning abyss of the colossal open, empty space. But it was just a facade, because my more esoteric senses could just barely pierce the illusion — was it even an illusion when the stone was real enough to touch, but the entire structure was merely an energy construct? — to catch a glimpse at the true Webway boundary which appeared to me as a glowing tunnel. If I squinted and focused, I could even catch glimpses of the chaotic, churning waters of the Warp beyond it.
“Well, Kay, where are we going exactly?” I asked.
“Up ahead, the settlement lays upon a crossroad in the paths,” Kay replied. “It serves as a port for ships so they can take the smaller paths which can only be walked, or traversed by the way of landbound vehicles. It’s also likely a staging area for raids taking place through the Gate we’d just taken. The reason I know of it is because the port has facilities for voidship maintenance, which some Corsairs take advantage of. Unfortunately, the only currency the Drukhari accept if you want to dock and make use of the port are slaves.”
“Never thought Drukhari were sane enough to do something that … business-minded,” I hummed. “So this is a dead end, or can a spaceship travel elsewhere beyond the port?”
“There is a long, winding path leading towards Commoragh, but I believe it requires one to exit the Webway a few times and enter other nearby Gates to reach the destination.” The Eldar looked distinctly queasy when mentioning that depraved city. “The other end of this spaceship-worthy path leads to some desolate region of the Eastern Fringes, far beyond the bounds of the Imperium. It’s become rather perilous as of late due to Necrons awakening on some of those desolate rocks just barely hanging onto the galactic gravity well.”
“I heard some Craftworlds can jump through the Webway, that seems a bit difficult if the path is only this wide,” I mused. Craftworlds were continent-sized ships capable of housing millions of inhabitants.
“I am not familiar with the mechanisms, perhaps nobody is.” My Eldar guide shrugged in a distinctly non Eldar-y manner. “All I know is that all the stable, large paths can be traversed if there is a need.”
“Well, let's shelve that mystery for another day.” I stepped closer to the transparent surface in front of me, eyes narrowing and fixed onto the dozen small black dots in the distance that had just come around a bend in the tunnel. “We seem to have been noticed and have a welcoming committee inbound. Let’s give them the greeting they deserve.”
If there ever was a group of beings I could slaughter without feeling a shred of guilt, it was the Dark Eldar and I was due some violent stress relief anyway.