Reluctant neccesity

james was worried, and it often he felt nervous or uneasy. usually, he was pretty confident, both in himself and his crew. he had to be, because his crew depended on him as much as he depended on them. he had to believe his crew would make it through thick and thin, otherwise it was easy for his doubts to cloud his judgement, and as a rogue trader, anything was possible, and he had a duty to his crew to see them through it. among his responsibilities as a rogue trader was to establish lines of trade among newly discovered worlds. part of that job was to deliver supplies to new settlements until a more permanent solution arose, which was what james and his ship, the centerfold, were doing now.

or at least, that was what he was supposed to be doing. on their arrival into the magnolia system, they signaled their colony to prep for arrival. no word. they checked again. still nothing. the signals were being received, but nobody was picking up, which meant something was wrong.

his train of thought was broken as the manatee dropship he was in was began its descent onto the planet's surface. james felt the aircraft wobble under his seat, then smooth out, which meant they'd hit the atmosphere and, in response, the pilot enabled re-entry stabilization in the ship, partially reducing inertia. james gripped the safety harness clamping him to one of 12 seats on the dropship. the seat wasn't particularly comfortable, but in the event of a crash, the seat boosted his odds of survival anywhere from 20-60%. he looked around at the other seats, six on each side. on the opposite side of the ship were six of his more experienced troops, with four more on his side-they were mercenaries hired into his dynasty to serve as a militia. due to a mixture of the McAllund dynasty's considerable wealth and the fact that these items would be well-used, each soldier was equipped with navy-blue-and-grey carapace armor and a hotshot lasgun, making them similar to the tempestus scions of the imperial military. every good military needs a leader, which is why they are uder the command of ex-imperial guard commander, general Mukali. he rarely led anywhere but from the bridge of the centerfold, which was where he was now.

james looked to his right. sitting there was his cybernetic bodyguard, Delphi-73. his task was to escort him everywhere he went, especially on ops like this, where not only was combat a possibility, it was expected. unlike the rest of the soldiers in the ship, who were checking their weapons and chatting quiety, some with and without their helmets on, delphi was sitting motionless in his seat, staring directly forward. clamped to his thighs were two silenced, .50 caliber submachine guns, with a matte finish to cut down on reflectivity as much as possible. any other human would struggle to hit anything with one of these due to their weight and recoil, much less engage several targets simultaneously with one in each hand, but delphi-73 wasn't any other human; he was quite literally built to do what humans couldn't.

suddenly, the holographic projector on the ceiling flickered on, and the grey-blue projection of general Mukali solidified in the middle of the manatee. he was a colossal, muscular beast of a man, wearing cobalt-blue power armor cloaked in a deep aqua cape, covering his back and some of his upper arms. his face, unlike the pinkish tan of the majority of the crew, was a deep brown, and wore his hair in several braided rows. in his left eye socket he had a red-lensed servo-eye. on his waist hung an ornate bolter, with a shell of obsidian black inlaid with extensive golden embellishment. on his other side hung a chainsword with a gunmetal-grey housing and a grox-leather hilt. it was evident from his very stance that he commanded respect from whomever was present. to be honest, even james was a bit intimidated by him. once again, he was glad that Mukali worked for him. the soldiers, on the other hand, were not so lucky. almost everyone fell silent and immediately saluted, save for two soldiers still milling about in the far right corner. mukali began to stared at them with a silent, contemtpuous glare, and caught their eye. they immediately stopped their conversation and saluted, the one with the helmet off blushing. mukali slowly turned his gaze away, put his hands behind his back, then cleared his throat.

"at ease," he said in a thick accent. everyone relaxed. "one hour ago, the centerfold entered the magnolia system to bring supplies to an archeological outpost. when signaled to inform them of our arrival, there was no response. the transmissions were being received, but the colonists weren't picking up. your job is to escort the captain-" he gestured to james. "-to the site, where you will find out what happened, then report back. additional objectives will be given as needed. any questions?"

one soldier raised their hand. "do we know what the archeologists were studying?" mukali turned to face him. "the reports stated it was xeno in origin, but they did not specify further, most likely out of fear for the confidentiality of their work. " he surveyed the room to find no more raised hands. "that is all." his hologram disappeared.

a few seconds later, the pilot's voice crackled over the loudspeaker. "ETA to LZ, one minute! get your shit together." james looked around to see all of the soldiers put their helmets on and heard the soft hiss of the helmet hermetically sealing to their suit's necks. james patted his waist to check his pistol and sword were still there. they were. he glanced over to his right, where he saw delphi chambering rounds into his submachine guns, racking the charging handle in precise but robotic expertise. eventually, he felt the ship come to a stop a little too sudden than preferable, and the safety harnesses lifted up, signifying their landing. james felt like he could breath again. seconds later, he heard the telltale sound of the hydraulic pistons lowering the manatee's ramp to the front of the vehicle. like clockwork, the troopers marched out of the ship and started sweeping the area, hellguns raised. james stood up, rubbed out the creases on his armored jacket, and walked out, followed closely by delphi.

as soon as he exited the dropship, the first thing that struck him was the smell. the smell of rotting meat and gore. looking around at his surroundings, it wasn't hard to see why. they had landed on magnolia, an inhabitable world with archeological value. the sky was an odd shade of orange, with clay-like soil the shade of a beet. there was sparse vegetation and it was mostly plains, but for some reason this was where some eggheads decided to start digging.

the campsite looked like a slaughterhouse. tents were ripped to shreds if not outright collapsed, there were corpses everywhere, and most of them were badly dismembered.

"by the emperor", james heard one of the troops say. he drew his laspistol and power sword. "well, I guess now we know why they never sent a confirmation."

delphi went over to look at one of the bodies and knelt down. it had its torso cut clean in half, the terror still etched onto his face. he was a man in his early 60's by the looks of it. he was wearing a dark grey jumpsuit stained with his own blood, and next to him was an autopistol.

"this cut wasn't clean enough to be a normal blade. his torso was torn, not cut. it wasn't a power sword, and a chainsword would have left an even more uneven cut. something solid, but with teeth, like a saw. this would take incredible strength to do in one slice."

delphi picked up the autopistol. he hit the magazine release and examined the magazine. "no bullets missing. whatever attacked these people killed them before they could even fight back."

james had a disgusted look on his face. "any idea what did this?"

delphi got up off his knees and pointed to the mouth of the cave at the far end of the camp. "I suspect venturing into the dig site will give us better insight.."

james groaned. "you mean the dark, enclosed space where this thing probably came from? sure, let's go in there. alright guys, flashlights on and stay tense. we're going into the dig site."

the interior of the cave was much different than the exterior. the walls were made of a yellowish marble, with murals chiseled right into them. it was a wide, open area, held up by pillars, and to one side a long hallway stretched.

"alright, form up. del, bring up the rear. I'll take point." james moved forward cautiously, his laspistol pointed forwards. corpses were everywhere, and the smell was overwhelming. as he reached the end of the hallway, he saw a smaller, circular room, where there was a marble pedestal in the center. it had stange looking runes carved all over-"

"you, mon-keigh."

james whipped around to see an eldar clutching its side, blood caked everywhere. it clutched an empty shuriken pistol, and its breathing was fast and ragged.

james pointed his pistol at it while the rest of the squad filed in and trained their guns on it. "why is an eldar here? did you kill all those people?"

the eldar coughed up blood. "the damned fools let out a daemoness that [cough cough] slaughtered them all. I managed to slay it, but..."

james knelt next to the eldar. it was wearing a cloak over form-fitting armor, painted in yellow and blue. it had hair that came down to their shoulders, and had skin as pale as moonlight. clearly, it had not been enough. "what were you even doing here?"

the eldar coughed up blood again, with a hoarse rasp. "please, you must... take my hand... go to the crafworld of iyanden and... tell them... I found it." the eldar weakly extended its hand, which james took. he thought this was the least he could do for-

his vision swirled with colors and shapes, pictures of one planet and its coordinates in the galaxy, dancing lights intermittently interrupted by picture of eldar heroes. he couldn't make any sense of it. he felt his head getting light and blacked out.

chapter 2

james felt cold. not in a way he was familiar with, either. normally, you can feel it in every part of your body, but james had no body. no arms, no legs, no chest... no eyes for that matter, either. he just knew he simply was. but where was he? he couldn't see anything. not like when you close your eyes and you see black- no, this was a different type of darkness. a darkness that you see when you don't see, when your eyes stop working. it had no color and had no visible features, but james knew it was dark. he knew this because it was cold, it was suffocating, and james was starting to feel like it did not want him there. for all the sensory input james was lacking, this darkness made sure that he knew he was not welcome. but why would it not want james there? he didn't even know where "there" was, much less why he was even there. an apology! yes, that might do. he did not know what he did wrong, but the last thing he wanted was to feel unwanted.

"If I somehow offended you, I'm sorry." at least, that's what he wanted to say. in actuality, he could not say anything. he had no tongue, jaw, throat, lungs, or lips to make sounds. after a couple tries, he realized communication was in vain. what would he even be talking to? he decided to remain silent.

after a few... seconds? hours? time was confusing here. he heard something, for the first time. it sounded almost like. ..whispering. james couldn't hear what they were saying. were any other sounds present, they almost assuredly would have been drowned out. suddenly, the sense of foreboding he felt earlier increased, like someone sqeezing his heart. the whispering grew louder, loud enough that he could hear them. he couldn't understand what they were saying, but they seemed frantic, as if they were calling for help.

whatever thing that was in there with him, it did not like this. he felt its anger, its annoyance at the voices started to boil over, and james started to find it unbearable. his sense of unbelonging felt so great that he felt like he'd die. before that, however, he felt a familiar sensation, that of being pushed against a wall, experiencing several G's of force making tight maneuvers. james was lifted into the air, so to speak, and started accelerating. james knew that if he went this fast in real life, he'd die from blood loss from the head. all of a sudden, he came to a stop, jolting him. he felt like someone just threw him onto a trampoline from a mile up. wait...

he wiggled his fingers.

he had fingers!

he lightly shifted his arms and legs, just enough that he knew they were still there. he felt soft, warm cotton sheets against his skin. he inhaled, and smelled the familiar pungent odor of rubbing amasec and antibiotics. for a moment, his eyelids felt weighed down by drowsiness, but he manage to wrestle them open. james was momentarily blinded by the brightness of his surroundings. after his eyes managed to get used to it, shapes started to materialize in his vision, though fuzzy.

"...delphi...?" he said groggily.

the tall cyborg leaned over james, his blank, emotionless visor stared directly into him.

"I'm here, boss." his familiar, monotone voice felt relieving to hear. it was good to know that he had his bodyguard to watch his back, wherever... he...

"...del, where am I?"

before delphi could answer that, the head nurse marched into his view. she was a thin, middle-aged woman with greying hair and wore a lab coat. well that answers that, i guess. he was in the infirmary of the centerfold, a place he'd been hundreds of times since he was born.

"thank emperor, mister McAllund, you're alive!" she said while trying to test his pupils for dilation. now less drowsy, james flinched at the sudden flashlight-in-eye.

"how long have I been here?" he said while he sat up on his bed. it was a simple hospital bed, with adjustable height settings, a soft matress, and almost completely white.

"four hours, twenty-two minutes, and forty-three seconds, as of now." said delphi.

"and how long have you been standing over me?"

"four hours, twenty-three minutes, and eighteen seconds, as of now, boss."

james noticed his apparel. he was wearing what appeared to be his white undershirt and his underwear. he looked to his right, where he noticed his clothes, neatly folded in a stack, on a metal table. they seemed to be in an enclosed space, with curtains all around him.

"what happened?" james asked the head nurse. he couldn't remember why he would be in a hospital bed.

"you blacked out, dearie. on your mission to the colony, remember? here, drink this." she said, handing him a glass of water.

the memory hit him like a train. "the eldar." he remembered now. he was in some kind of vault. there was an eldar in black robes. he touched her hand, and-

james saw a trooper burst through the curtain, carrying his helmet in one hand and saluting him in the other. james almost spilled his water.

"sir! i'm lieutenant hosk! I was in command of the squad that was to be escorting you! i heard you were awake and came as fast as I could!" hosk stood at attention, sporting a black buzz-cut, a heavy brow, and several scars.

"uh... at ease. lieutenant, what happened after I took the eldar's hand?" james said, sipping water.

hosk visibly relaxed. "you kind of... sat there for a minute, then collapsed. the eldar's hand went limp, and we assumed it died. delphi here-" he said, gesturing to delphi, who was standing in the corner-"picked you up, carried you out, and we all exfil'd. h brought you here, and... that's it."

"and the eldar's body?" james asked inquisitively.

the lieutenant looked confused. "...what about it, sir?"

"where is it now? did you take it with you?"

hosk shifted uncomfortably. "uh... no, sir. we just grabbed you, that's all.

james set himself more straight upright in his bed. "so let me get this straight: there were ten other troopers in the squad, and none of you thought that recovering the eldar's body would be important?"

hosk looked at the ground. "erm..." he looked visibly ashamed.

james was starting to get frustrated, which didn't happen often. "why are you still standing there? go get a body crew, recover it and its stuff, and put it in the morgue!" he said, pointing at the exit of his room.

hosk looked taken aback. "uh, yes sir, right away, sir," he said, jogging off.

james sighed and pulled the covers off of his legs.

"where are you going? you still need rest!" the head nurse exclaimed.

james swing himself out of the bed and onto his feet. he walked over to the table to his right and and began dressing himself. "I feel fine, doc. don't worry, I'll drink plenty of fluids."

the head nurse sighed, then put her hands oh her hips. "I suppose I couldn't stop you if I tried, could I?"

james pulled on his signature aviator's jacket and winked at her, flashing her his signature million-throne smile. "thanks, doc. delphi,” he said, jerking his head to the direction of the door. “We’re heading out.”

delphi held up his equipment belt, carrying his sword and his pistol. "did you want this, boss?" james took it and fastened around his waist before departing with delphi in pursuit.

james walked down the rows of hospital beds separated by curtains. some were filled with soldiers recuperating from a wound, others with engineers that broke their leg. he fished out his vox from his pants pocket, then flicked it open. it was a handy device that could wirelessly connect with other voxes, as well as display holographic messages and recieve incoming calls. he punched in a few buttons, then put it to his ear.

"hello?" he heard a female voice say.

"hey, beatrice, it's me, james. listen, I need to call an emergency meeting with the top brass. could you tell mukali I want him on the bridge?"

"of course, captain. is there anything else?"

james reached the infirmary's lift waiting area and pressed his thumb on the call button's scanner, performing an "executive override" meaning any lift currently empty would immediately be redirected to him.

being the captain had its perks.

"yeah, tell the navigator boys to figure out where the eldar craftworld of "eeyandin" is, and prep the engines for a warp jump."

he heard a keyboard typing furiously. "will that be all?"

james saw the icon telling him the lift was almost there. "last item. get the recaf cart to stop at the bridge, and make sure they have those chocolate scones I like. that'll be all, beatrice. thank you."

"undersood, captain. glad to have you back." she said before hanging up.

james closed his vox and stowed it in his pocket. once again, he was grateful to have beatrice, his personal secretary. james heard a ding, and looked up to see the lift's doors open. he and delphi stepped into the spacious metal cube. "bridge" james said. the elevator responded with "going to: brig." in cool, female voice.

"no, bridge." he said, stretching the word out.

"I'm sorry, "ridge" is not a valid destination. please repeat."

james sighed in annoyance. "old, piece of shit software." he said under his breath. "fuck it. you know what? fuck it! take me to the northern engine level. I'lll take the stairs the rest of the way."

"going to: lower hangar bay." the lift's voice said.

"THAT DOESN'T SOUND ANYTHING LIKE WHAT I JUST SAID!"

chapter 3

the top brass of the centerfold were an odd bunch. each of them had their own role, vital to the continued survival of the ship. there was general mukali, the stern, by-the-book commander of all men-at-arms on the centerfold. one of the reasons james recruited him was because of his illustrious service as an imperial guard commander, infamous for his flawlessly coordinated spearheads and his no-nonsense attitude.

another important figure was his uncle, archibald gildrich. a short, stocky old man, his role was, in a nutshell, to pilot the centerfold when james was busy doing other things, which was most of the time. as far as james knew, gildrich wasn't directly related to anyone in his family, despite his title stating otherwise. his father called gildrich "uncle" as well, and so did james. after james' father died, "uncle gildrich", with the assistance of several nannies, raised james to be the dynasty's successor. james liked his uncle, because if not for him, he probably wouldn't have grown up to be the man he is today. he remembered when he and gildrich used to pull "heists" on the galley's pastry store, and played "traders and pirates" where james would pretend to be a dashing rogue trader fighting off gildrich, a drukhari raider. if not for the sense of adventure gildrich had instilled in him, james would almost assuredly have come out quite boring.

some argue wether putting gildrich in a position as important as his was a good choice, and on the surface, you could see why. gildrich wore an old blue-and-red officer's uniform that was now retired from service, one that hasn't been worn by any of the centerfold's crew in decades. the jacket, now almost faded of color, was open, revealing a tank top and his unflattering gut. his dress pants were in similar condition, almost denim blue in hue, with several stains and patches. he also wore brown slippers instead of the accompanying dress shoes, fingerless gloves, and a monocle over an eye he was legally blind in, and a wool-knit cap. he drinks heavily, is a bit misogynistic, and often makes rude jokes. despite this, he's an excellent pilot, utterly loyal to the dynasty, and has seniority over pretty much everyone on the ship.

the engineseer gelvia was, in short, the one who was responsible for keeping the ship running. she oversees the engineers and technicians of the centerfold, making sure everything went smoothly and administers workloads. she runs the day-to-day operations in the engine rooms, often acting as a representative of the numerous technicians stationed on the ship. formerly a tech-priest from the forge-world of lucius, gelvia was hired due to her expertise of the now archaic monarch-class cruiser engines, the type found on the centerfold. due to her unique understanding of them and her management skills, it's suffice to say that there are very few in the imperium that could do her job half as well. best described as "passionate", she easily takes the spot of "most devoted engineseer to the omnissiah." she can frequently be heard humming the tunes of hymns to the machine god under her breath when she works, and her "office" has repeatedly been mistaken for a shrineroom, with binharic scripture, machine cult iconography, and incense burners everywhere. despite this, she's very kind for a person mostly composed of cogigators, mechadendrites, and servos. though it might have gone unnoticed by delphi-73, james has observed gelvia staring at his bodyguard's sophisticated bionic arms and mechanically-enhanced torso in ways he could only describe as lustful, the implications of which james would rather not think about.

holding the rank of head navigator is a woman named ysmera. she was responsible for ferrying the centerfold through the warp safely, utilizing her third eye to stare into the warp. ysmera was a psyker, an individual that was capable of manipulating the warp in a variety of ways, such as sensing people's emotions, creating protective barriers of psychic energy, or firing bolts of lightning. she dud this by using a special staff of office, a long wood staff with the symbol of the navigator appearing in solid gold on the end, to channel her psychic energy into an effect of her choice. while normally only ever using these abilities to ferry the rogue trading vessel through the immaterium, there have been occasions where, when forced into conflict, she's shown remarkable combat prowess, capable of disintegrating enemies with bolts of lightning, and stopping autogun slugs midair. as a member of the navigators, ysmera wears a long, floor-length robe of thick, purple silk, cinched around her waist with a length of golden rope and with a hood over her head, partially obscuring her brilliant violet eyes, olive complexion, and wavy black hair going down to her shoulders. she wears a purple blindfold over the eye on her forehead to prevent anyone from gazing upon it. due to her status as a psycher, she often struggles to make meaningful relationships with other, "normal" members of the crew due to the stigma surrounding them, despite her cool and confident attitude.

and there was James, of course. he was the head and patriarch of the dynasty, inheriting his warrant of trade from his father, who had inherited it from his father, and so on and so forth. his warrant of trade, the document signed by the emperor himself, granted him the status of one of the most powerful men in the imperium, rivaled only by the likes of inquisitors, space marine chapter masters, and, of course, the high lords of terra. so long as he could twist his actions to make them appear beneficial to humanity in some way, he was nigh untouchable, allowing him to go wherever he wanted and do whatever he pleased. however, unlike an inquisitor, who could force people to submit to their authority, rogue traders' freedoms were a bit different in that he didn't have authority as much as he had immunity. if he, say, decided to steal a shipment of precious metals from a forge world, he would not be prosecuted on a federal level, but he would still be a fair target for the forge world themselves to eliminate. fortunately, a key hallmark of rogue traders (or james, at the very least) was their ability to talk their way either in or out of almost any situation. if that didn't work, they could always try high-tailing it, another of james' specialties.

in truth, james was rarely on the bridge of the ship, preferring to leave the management of everyday operations to other trusted administrators, allowing him more free time to enjoy himself. however, there were things that james needed to be there in person for, such as the discussion of trade deals, commanding his forces during naval battles, and representing the dynasty during social occasions. he often was on the ground with his troops whenever they were doing military stuff, as he was quite proficient in combat himself, and liked to be able to directly influence the battlefield. sometimes, he also needed to organize strategies with the commanding officer of an ally he was providing backup for during joint operations.

james stepped off the lift into a large, rectangular room, with marble floors and tall, metallic walls curving into a gentle arch. to his left was the heavy, armored metal door leading to the command bridge, lodged firmly into the north wall, where the rest of the centerfold's top brass. it was guarded by two militia troopers, carrying hotshot lasguns at waist-level and outfitted with the standard carapace armor of the McAllund dynasty's private military, with thick plasteel and ceramite plates of armor painted in glare-reducing black, over a dark blue flak suit. to his left was the wall with the executive lifts to the private suites, where both his private quarters and the guest rooms were located. located in between the two matching lifts on the rear wall was the metal,semicircular desk of his secretary, beatrice. she was typing away on the keyboard of her computer, easily typing over 150 words per minute. she was wearing a pink sweater over a white-collared shirt, and a pair of round, thick-lensed spectacles. she looked up to see james stepping out of the elevator and said "everyone's in the bridge, sir, as you requested."

"thank, you, beatrice. hey, is that a new sweater?" james said as he started walking over to the bridge's bulkhead, followed closely by delphi.

beatrice looked down to her torso. "uh... yes, sir, it is."

james smiled before placing his hand on the door's biometric reader. "it looks good on you." beatrice blushed slighly and looked away.

with a loud mechanical hiss, the doors slid open., revealing the bridge. it was a massive chamber, semicircular to the front and square to the back, with multiple layers of similarly shaped subdecks going a hundred feet down, accessible by a rather steep staircase. the farther down the decks went, the longer they were, so anyone on the command deck, the highest and shortest deck, could see the front ends of all decks. on each deck, rows of bridge crew were working furiously on terminals to redistribute energy flows, monitor the status of their naval cannons, and other important administrative tasks, with hundreds of overlapping voices. immediately in front of all of the decks was a colossal window of meter-thick reinforced glass, with adamantium reinforcements running in a grid pattern. you could fire a battle cannon at the exterior and it would leave an ugly crater at most.

as james entered, he saw the inky darkness of the void, speckled with white dots swirled in with yellow, purple, and scarlet through the viewport. even after spending the majority of his life in space, he never failed to be blown away by its view. that was one of the perks of being a rogue trader: the views.

the command deck was the smallest of the bridge's levels, only about 60 feet in width and 40 feet long from the door. the front half was dropped by about five feet, accessible by stairs to the sides. in the middle of the lowered front half was the captain's chair, a custom-made, fully adjustable mahogany-bodied armchair literally built around james' body, with steel reinforcements running along the exterior and padded with some of the most expensive leather in the imperium, made from the hide of a grox that was the product of over twelve hundred years of breeding in a state-of-the-art biosphere, fed with hand-cooked meals made from vegetables so fresh that it was put into a padded stasis vault directly after harvest. (to be honest, after you've passed the 700-year mark of selective bred grox-leather, it all started to feel the same.) on its arms were dozens of buttons and switches, with more still appearing in holographic displays appearing in front of the chair. protruding from the right arm was a solid gold cupholder, with internal panels that form-fitted around the container as soon as it's put down. (this was the only thing on the entire bridge that was made of gold.)

behind his chair, built into the front of the upper levels, was the navigator's podium. it was a 6-foot wide circular dias, raised about two inches from the ground, with a small locking lug in the center that corrosponded with its twin located on the bottom end of ysmera's staff. it was inlaid with iines of glowing blue crystal zig-zagging in circular patterns centered around the middle. here, ysmera stood to guide the ship through the warp, safely ferrying the cruiser to its destination. behind those were two chairs behind desks with holographic readouts and controls. the right belonged to commander mukali, providing live camera-feeds of battlefields, troop status readouts, and other necessary combat information. his desk was quite spotless, with nothing on the surface. the desk to the left belonged to uncle gildrich, and was covered in empty amasec bottles, crumbs, and multiple stains. from here, he commanded the day-to-day operation of the centerfold, which basically meant making sure it didn't fall out of orbit when over a planet and other mediocre tasks.

the second thing james noticed when he entered was all four of his top brass standing in the middle of the upper level, chatting amongst themselves. to the right of them was the recaf cart, a metal box about two feet tall and three feet long. on top of it was a brewing machine, capable of making multiple mixtures of coffee beans, milk, cream, sugar, and other flavors. next to it was a middle-aged, pot-bellied man with a creased face. he wore a white, short sleeved shirt, a white, folded, pyramid-shaped hat, blue pants, and a white apron. on his shirt was a nametag that read "paul."

james immediately made a beeline to his cart. upon seeing him walking over, paul placed a synthfoam cup under the nozzle of the copy machine, pressed a button on it, then reached into a hatch on the cart, removing a chocolate-filled pastry on a paper plate. by the time james made it to the cart, paul had both his pastry and a cup of specially-blended coffee in either hand, holding it out for james to take with a smile on his face. before taking it, james fished his wallet out of his pants pocket and removed a ten-throne coin. james took the coffee, placed the coin in paul's now-empty hand, and then took the pastry and the plate it was on. as paul was tucking the coin into his apron pocket, james heard mukali's voice.

"you know," james turned around to see everyone facing him. "you don't have to pay him. he already receives compensation. through his salary."

james gestured to paul with the hand he was holding his coffee. "he had my order ready to go before I even got to his cart." james said before biting into his pastry. "you don't get that type of service anywhere else."

"is there a specific reason you called us all here?" gelvia said with an edge in her synthetic, warbly voice. james smelled a whiff of incense coming off of her, the ones tech priests use that remind you of engine grease and exhaust fumes. he assumed she was in the middle of a ritual of some kind when she was summoned.

james leaned on the wall. "right. yes. hey, paul? could you, uh..." james pointed over his shoulder with his thumb to the door. paul smiled, nodded, and exited the bridge with his cart. after the bulkhead behind us sealed shut, james turned back to face his crew. "you guys all received a sitrep from the last op, right? the one with the eldar?" all four of them said yes.

"that eldar... they were there for a reason. an important reason. it was so important, that they resorted to trusting the kindness of a human to fullfill it. At the very least, I want to know more about the situation. who knows, maybe we can help them and get something out of it.”

the rest of the brass looked around uneasily at each other.

”also, we have the corpse of an eldar that gave us an address to send their body. it'd be kind of a dick move to not do anything. the least we could do is drop their body off."

gildrich looked at him in astonishment. "you want to go to an eldar craftworld? on purpose? what have they ever done for us?"

mukali nodded. "i agree with gildrich. interacting with a craftworld only to return a body is a foolhardy endeavor."

"actually, I think going to the craftworld is the best course of action." everyone turned to ysmera. "if what this eldar was doing was really this important, other eldar may investigate and find out we're involved. it would be best to come forward transparently, ensuring them that we're not guilty of anything. additionally..." she turned to look at the other three officers. "the captain's presence in the warp appears... altered. as if it has something latched onto it. I suspect investigating this matter would prove beneficial to him."

mukali looked towards the ground pensively, then folded his arms in a contemplative gesture. "hmm. I see your point, ysmera. . angering the eldar would be a very foolhardy move for an organization such as ours. in fact, aiding the eldar may open up unique opportunities down the road. lucrative opportunities."

james felt relieved. he gestured to mukali, looking at everyone else like "see?" "yes, exactly! thank you, muka-"

"I'm not finished. despite the potential for profit, and the fact that we'd be honoring a soldier's dying wish, there are still many, many risks. if the ordo xenos found out we went out of our way to aid the eldar in any significant way, they would burn everyone here at the stake. furthermore, negotiating with the eldar will be a diplomatic minefield, and i'm not sure even you could pull it off."

james looked at him with a smirk on his face.

"that was not a challenge, captain."

james winked at mukali. "...right."

before mukali could protest further, james' vox started vibrating in his pocket. he removed it and flicked it open, putting it go his ear. "james McAllund speaking."

"sir, the team you sent down to retrieve the eldar's body has returned, and the navigators have located and plotted a course to the craftworld of iyanden," he heard beatrice say on the other end.

"thank you beatrice. that'll be all."

james shut the vox and stuffed it into his pocket before walking over to his captain's chair and falling into the soft leather, wiggling slightly to microadjust himself.. "alright, people, we're wheels up in 10. gelvia, prep for a warp jump. ysmera, you recieved the coordinates?"

ysmera plugged her staff into the lug in the center of her pedastal, making the psychic runes glow blue. "affirmative, captain."

"good." james said, leaning back into his seat with his feet kicked up on the built-in ottoman. "finally, I get to put that emperor-damned extracurricular eldar-speaking class to use."

part 2
the craftworld of iyanden slipped gently through space,, its angular hull silhouetted by the light of a nearby star they were orbiting. The bridge crew was busy typing away on holographic displays, with little chatter save for two individuals.

"but why?" pleaded a figure in green armor.

she stood in iyanden’s bridge, an expanse as large as a warehouse. its walls were cream-white, illuminated by the multiple bright blue lights and displays present in the room. around them were dozens of crewmen, each stationed at a desk with a holographic readout of a portion of the ship's thousands of systems. each of them were busy in their own way, including a male eldar on a raised platform above everyone else, with the green-armored figure standing next to him. he wore a flashy blue-and-yellow cloak and carried an elaborate staff with hundreds of runes carved into it, and gems set into its gold. he was old, even for the eldar, with greying hair flowing down to his shoulder blades in a loose ponytail. he was typing away at runes being displayed holographically in front of him, as if he was displeased.

"i simply think that you are not finished with the path of the warrior. I sense much discourse in you, young one," he said without turning to face the person he was talking to.

the green armored figure scowled, then attempted to mentally reign herself in, collecting her composure. "what must I do to convince you I'm ready to join the path of the spiritseer?"

the yellow-cloaked figure sighed exasperatedly, then waved away the runes in front of them, causing them to fizzle out of existence. he turned to face the warrior standing beside him. she was clad in the battle-garb of the striking scorpion, heavy, interlocking wraithbone plates over a form-fitting polymorphous bodysuit. on her hip, she carried a chainsword and a shuriken postol, the standard weapons of her shrine. her jet-black hair was back in a high ponytail, with two locks framing her angular face. on it she wore a determined expression, her sharp eyebrows creased over her almond-shaped eyes.

"quell the rage inside of you. regain control of your heart. if you ventured into the path of the spiritseer as you are right now, you may disturb the dead that you Shepard into battle.

before she could respond, a red warning rune blared to life on the farseer's console, matched by a loud, disturbing alarm siren.

one of the bridge crewmen turned to the farseer and shouted "warp signature detected, 1000 kilometers starboard! a ship's coming out of the warp, sir!"

"get our weapons on standby!" the farseer spun around to his console and pulled up a view of the warp portal in question, through one of the ship's onboard cameras. unlike the elegant, seamless tunnels created by eldar craft using the webway, this portal spit warp-fire and bled out into the inky darkness of space. it yawned open to slowly disgorge a crude, geometric vessel, immediately recognized as human-made. the ship, about 50 kilometers long, drifted a few kilometers before coming to a halt, killing its engines as the maw of the warp portal closed behind it.

"what is it doing?" the farseer asked, puzzled. the most obvious reason a mon-keigh ship would so brazenly approach a craftworld was if it intended to attack them. however, this vessel showed no signs of hostile intent. there were no accompanying vessels, so it wasn't part of a strike force. sensors indicated that very few of their defense batteries were armed, even though a ship that size would stand no chance against the might of a craftworld.

"sir, they're... hailing us. we received a transmission from the vessel," said another crewman to his right. "it's an audio log in their language."

now the humans were trying to communicate with them? something wasn't right. mon-keigh were rarely so docile, espescially going as far as to disarm most of their weapon systems.

"play it." barked the farseer.

the voice of a male mon-keigh, judging to be a young adult, spoke from the speakers around the bridge.

"first of all, please don't shoot, we're not looking for any trouble. my name is Captain james McAllund of the McAllund rogue trader dynasty, and I suspect that you're gonna want to hear what I'm about to say."

"we met an eldar with what we’re pretty sure is your craftworld's heraldry. before succumbing to wounds it had previously sustained in battle, it told me to find you, and also that they... 'found it.' I'm not sure what they meant by that, but I thought the least I could do was send their remains home. That and the gem around her neck. Those are important, right?”

murmering began around the bridge as the crew reacted to the cryptic message. the farseer was left with even more questions than had been answered. this mon-keigh found a dying eldar of his craftworld, searching for something they dubbed so important that they entrusted a mon-keigh to send word back to them?

being a farseer meant that he was capable of seeing the future. ordinarily, he, like almost all other farseers needed special equipment such as stones with runes on them, but sometimes he felt a premonition through his instincts, less a prediction and more as a strong speculation, and now was one of those times. he didn't know why, but he knew that something big was about to happen and this mon-keigh would prove pivotal to their success in the endeavor.

"...could we speak in person, perhaps on one of our vessels? there's other matters I'd like to address, and I can bring the body with me”, the male mon-Keigh said.

The farseer silently weighed his options for a few moments. After several minutes had gone by, he spoke to the bridge crew. “Send this message on the same frequency.” He hoped his mon-Keigh was as good as he remembered it being.

”James McAllund of the McAllund rogue trader dynasty, this is the craftworld of altaioc. We are sending coordinates to a docking bay you may enter through. Bring the body and its soulstone. Know that if we even suspect any trickery, we will blow your ship to pieces.”

“end transmission” he said as he turned away from his console and faced the aspect warrior.

”you can’t really consider allying with them!” The green figure sputtered.

”this human intrigues me. If he turns out to be a liability, we can always dispose of him.”

a sly grin kcrpt