Chapter 1: Into the wild black yonder IC

Alexium did not look nearly as graceful as Lethia, but that was on purpose. To the "unremarkable child," it was a defense mechanism - a ploy - a way of forcing any potential enemies to underestimate their abilities in the void of space.

Alexium was void-born, just as Lethia, and this was their natural habitat. Anyone paying very close attention could see the casual ease with which they moved in the vacuum.

They sensed the newcomer just a moment before the figure spoke. A quick pulse of the mind and Alexium quite clearly picked up the alien form:

~~ Eldar - psychic potential evident - threat level unclear ~~

The psychic voice immediately filtered into the party members' minds.

*Aboard the Mundus, commenting to Alexium*
"I believe your talents have been ill-suited to what we have come across so far. This will not always be the case. Your day will come. I am certain of it."


-------------------------------

Torian felt discontentment. Surprise was not something he enjoyed. He would have words with Valry about this. This was not a comfortable environment for him, unlike Alexium and Lethia. Fortunately, his comfort mattered not at all. None of this registered on his face as he calmly watched the newcomer. His hands never moved towards his weapons. He understood very well that this xenos was faster than he could ever hope to be. Moreover, if it was going to shoot them, it likely would have already done so.

"We go where we will. I am Lord-Captain Torian of the Anatem Imperabit Mundus. We represent the Filianatus Trading Dynasty. Simply put, we are exploring in search of archeotech, profit, and power. This hulk represents the potential for significant salvage. Therefore we have laid claim to it via combat."

Torian stared at the xenos being, ice-blue eyes glowing through the goggles. "And who are you, who lurks in dead ships and lays traps? If you will lower your weapon, perhaps we can strike an accord. I see no reason why we must be enemies - we would both be best served through negotiation. What can I do for you?"

Ignatio had not been born to the void, but he had long been trained in it. While his movements had more precision and less grace than the astropath and navigator, he certainly knew how to move without gravity.

When the new signal came over the vox, the Magos instinctively analyzed it, recognized it transmitted a voice, and switched everyone to that frequency to better enable communication with this new entity. Turning his head to take in their visitor, his cybernetic eyes lanced through the darkness, shifting to darksight and zooming in to scan over the details.


While he observed in silence, his cybernetic mind went to work. Each of his companions would see a vox rune flash in the corner of their viewscreens as the xeno spoke, and then another appear as he created a separate encrypted channel for Vox communications that would exclude this new figure. Alexium's suit, of course, communicated this with a vibration along either ear indicating what channel he was hearing.

As Torian spoke, the Eldar regarded him with contempt and pity in equal measure. Although he would never admit to having such thoughts to his fellows, a part of him had felt sorry for Humanity for going down the same path that the Eldar race themselves went down. But that pity was often overwhelmed with the contempt he felt, for none of Humanity knew the path they were on--but even if they did, none would do anything about it. Still, primitive and misguided though they were, at least some did not shoot on sight. In Caervan's mind, given the current situation they were all in, lowering his weapon was warranted.

"I am Caervan of the Eldar, Captain. What you can do for me is listen. Xerachans tore through the ship I was on, murdering everyone they could find. As far as I am aware, I am the sole survivor. I am not, however, your trap-maker--this place was trapped long before I arrived."

Roderick trudged through the void in silence listening to the chatter of the others as they disseminated clues on their surroundings. Therefore he felt the pulse coming from Alexium before the words trickled into his mind and the xenos stepped into view. He was still surprised however. Surprised there was some...one still alive and occupying the ship. He kept his hands by his side knowing that drawing weapons was futile. He'd be eating breakfast with Hector before he knew he'd tried otherwise. Who are the Xerachans? he asked from somewhere in the middle of the group.

Regarding the primitive's question, Caervan spoke with only a slight degree of derision, as if disappointed that the human did not know of the Xerachans already.

"They are an arachnid race with a hive mind. They make extensive use of augmetics, and seem to have the ability to render a ship down to its constituent parts through a black substance of their own creation. They tore down the ship I was on with it."

Lethia watches with quiet trepidation.
She did not like the idea of entreating with an eldar in the cold void. If it came to blows with the xenos, her helpistol was a reliable enough weapon in this situation, but solid projectile weapons would cause just as much problems for the user as for the target. She had a hunch the eldar weapons were also less prone to such hazards in the void.

"Perhaps this discussion is better left served in a more hospitable environment?"

Torian appreciated the comment from Lethia, her comfort was always of utmost importance. Truly there was no more irreplaceable officer. This xenos was so smug, as if it was not the one whose ship just died and we were not the ones who just destroyed their attackers, as if the eldar had anything to be proud of. Torian had little respect for those who let power just slip out of their hands. It was obvious this creature was not going to shoot them - it was probably going to ask for help, if it could let its pride go for long enough to do it. Torian knew the eldar well enough to know that the hints of disdaine coming from it were unquestionably purposeful. Why must Torian always be the one to remind others of their negotiating position?

"My navigator tires, Caervan. We will be withdrawing now. Why don't you lower your weapon and join us? Or feel free to wait in this rotting corpse until you starve to death."

"I have been journeying the void since before you were born, Captain. I know full well what my fate will be if I decline your offer." Caervan lowered his weapon, keeping an eye on Torian's subordinates to make sure none of them tried anything foolish. The Navigator was certainly one to keep an eye on - she reeked of the influence of the Warp.

"And yet, I would be remiss if I did not wonder exactly why you would suddenly leave this place. Humanity knows much about the Eldar, so I can hardly be as valuable to you or your fellows as the archeotech within. Are you certain you wish to abandon this hulk to scavengers, pirates or worse?

Alexium was quietly irritated at the tone of the Eldar. They steadied their breathing and reached out over the vox frequency Ignatio had established.

"Perhaps a language barrier has made this meeting more hostile than it needs to be. Surely, we are all agreed that a friendship could be mutually beneficial."

As soon as the words left their mouth, however, they knew they didn't purge the irritation well enough from their mind. Immediately they sent a psychic message to the crew.

~~~ So, I might have just pissed this one off even more. That's my bad. Use me as a body shield if they shoot. ~~~

Roderick tutted in his mind, hopefully loud enough for Alexium to hear.

~~~ Stuck the landing on that one didn't you, Old Son. Let me see if I can clean up your little whoopsie. You have to give credit where it's due with this thing though. It's not exactly living the good life in this derelict, and yet you can fair taste the condescension in the air as it speaks! ~~~

Though he loathed the xenos with all the zeal of any good Imperial citizen, the ram sack on this one to act so superior despite its surroundings and predicament actually made him grin. If he thought too long about it, he might actually like it. It was a disquieting concept, but he was intrigued enough to let it play out. You're correct, Caervan, though I hate to cede you the high ground in this subtle moral discussion by admitting so. His smile was genuine, though still devilish. We're here to see what we can recover to better equip our ship. Do you have any information on this craft or its previous occupants? He glanced at Lethia and Torian, Let us continue Lord Captain. We may yet find more of use.

Alexium chuckled back mentally, sending their thoughts directly to Roderick.

~~~ How funny would it be if this was how I died? I literally dropped a shipping container on a bio-titan, and this pointy eared emotional cripple takes me out. Avenge me if that's how it goes down. ~~~

~~~ Ha! The irony would be cripplingly hilarious. That's what you'll get for expecting to make friends without effort. You can't go around swiping with your mind's eye and expect them to be more than a fling! You need booze. Lots of it. Like we did. But for certain, I'll be carrying your wee bag of bones as a shield and then as a cape of some kind. Or a shrunken head! Then you'll be there to see me mete out our vengeance one day. ~~~
Roderick actually guffawed out loud at the mental image, oddly interrupting the exchange with the xenos.

While all these mental communications flitted about, the Magos stood silent and servitor-still, until finally he spoke up, addressing the Eldar.

"It appears you are confused about our Lord Captain's intentions. I believe that what is being proposed is to bring you to our ship, continue our discussion there, and then return and resume our exploration of the derelict after having negotiated the terms of your passage and potential further participation in this effort. Your estimations of your own importance should be adjusted. Meeting you will not substantially alter our overall plan."

"And yet our meeting has altered your plans anyway, machine. As fortune would have it, you all may be able to be of as much assistance to me as I can be to you. Let us get to your ship--to satisfy your Navigator's request--and we can discuss the minutia there, Captain." Caervan lowered his weapon fully now, although he hoped his race's reputation for lightning reflexes would remind his erstwhile acquaintances of how fast things could turn if Caervan were...provoked. Speaking of which, the Eldar turned to gaze upon the one who attempted to get inside his head, before speaking to Torian again.

"And Captain, please restrain your fellow from entering my mind again. I will not be held responsible for what happens should my privacy be breached again." Caervan's displeasure was perfectly evident in his voice, although he partly respected the human for trying to breach his mental defences in the first place.

Lethia didn't like being used as an excuse to get the conversation to a more suitable climate.

Unfortunately, there was some truth to it. She simply did not have the stamina for lengthy endeavors. A manifestation of her genetic legacy. It was still a better outcome than many of her brother and sister navigators. Unlike them she did not have to have the growths on her back, the extra appendages, the scaled skin, or any of the other myriad mutations the navigator's gene caused. She simply looked like a young, scrawny woman.

"Excellent! They will restrain themselves for now. There may be an expectation of allowing some level of connection if moving forward with us, and certainly you will always be held responsible for any actions against our Astropath Transcendant. Please, come with us."

Torian turned away and pushed off the wall, to be caught by the waiting armsman by the airlock. It was time to negotiate!

The shuttle returned, new companion in tow, to the Anatem Imperabit Mundus. While the ship had been largely invisible from the wreck, its immense bulk became every more evident as the shuttle approached.


While much of it showed the typical artlessness of human vessels, there was far more effort put into aesthetics than the average imperial ship. Immense golden statues could be seen on each side-one a man, the other a woman; each statue had a weight to it in one's sight, far more than inanimate metal should typically have. The prow was a large, flawless...duck?! It showed the natural curves of life, avoiding the exaggerated eagle-forms common in imperial symbolism.

As the shuttle came closer though, the top & underside became visible, an eclectic array of fluted towers, stations and antennae in flawless silver. The image was oddly reminiscent of the interior of a craftworld, the unpredictable towers giving a semblant of something natural. If one could ignore the MASSIVE rocket engines, it would almost have been beautiful by eldar standards.

After a few more minutes, the shuttle entered the landing bay to let off its living cargo.

Alexium floated in a semi-circle, as though they were no longer interested in the conversation. **Playing to the Unremarkable talent** When referred to, they stopped and looked to the eldar, albeit from upsidedown.

"A galaxy's worth of apologies, Lord Eldar. The next time I dive into your head, I will have your full permission, I am sure."

There was something of a bow, but from their position it looked more like an inverted sit-up.

+++++++

Upon return, Alexium waited for Ignatio to bless the void suit before taking off the helmet. They were well accustomed to doing it alone, but why not have the master-of-machines do it? There was no point in pissing off the machine god.

At this point, Caervan would have their first glimpse of the Anatem's mighty Astropath Transcendent: no taller than an adolescent child, and with the features to match, it was impossible to tell if the "child" was male or female. In fact, it was impossible to tell their age. While their features and stature surely spoke to someone who had perhaps only just entered secondary school, their mannerisms and speech told an entirely different story.

An elegant white sash with blue inlaid designs in the form mathematical lines and ducks covered their eyes. Even still, they looked directly at Caervan with a smile.

Torian was immediately swarmed by attendants as they left the craft. He responded to queries and gave a series of rapid orders before leading the party to a large briefing room with a sole table set in the middle, and the primary and secondary officer corps standing around the edges. An honor guard stood near the entrance.

Torian took a seat at the head of the table, resting his hands in front of him on the table. He looked piercingly at the Xenos, and said "please begin."

Alexium's mind-link with the crew remained strong as they all sat down around the table. The unassuming Astropath sat two seats away from Torian.

~~ Should you will it, I will try again to make them... happier. ~~ They sent telepathically to Torian. Alexium ensured that their mental transmission fell upon the crew like a warm blanket on a cool night so that there was a moment of sensory warning and no jarring as they received the message.

The fact that the interior of the vessel was akin to a Craftworld was not lost on Caervan--some small part of him silently applauded the humans for trying to replicate the natural beauty of Eldar naval architecture--but minute details that were obvious to one accustomed to Craftworlds kept any disbelief from being suspended, even without help from the massive engines. When Torian took his seat at the table and attempted to stare into Caervan's soul, Caervan couldn't help but ponder how quintessentially...human, this all was. Humanity was, if nothing else, almost too good at acting too big for its britches. Then again, spending a few thousand years at the (relative) peak of the galactic pecking order would do that to a race whose average lifespan could be measured in decades rather than centuries.

Caervan took his seat at the table, directly opposite Torian, before removing his void helmet, making his features visible to all who gazed upon him. With jet black hair, shining blue eyes and sharp cheekbones that could give shuriken a run for their money, Caervan was certainly imposing.

"Is there anywhere you would have me start in particular? Aside, perhaps, from deriding your attempt at mimicking the architecture of my people?"

"Why don't you skip that part." Lethia said flatly.

She had no idea what mimicry this xenos spoke of, but to liken the works of the God-emperor's navy to that of a baseless xenos was an insult.

"As you wish." Caervan replied, equally as flatly. He figured there was no point in telling the humans that the Eldar had been around since their ancestors were creating fire in caves.

"From my initial observations, your crew--or at least this portion of it--seems to be lacking in combat ability, Torian. Now that I am here, I could fill that void for you. Your use of Eldar architecture implies that you know of my people, which doubtless means you are aware of how effective our Aspect Warriors can be. You are now presented with the chance to have one on your crew...at least for now." Caervan's expression told nothing--it seemed as if he were merely stating facts, such was his superiority complex.

Roderick sat at the table, not next to Torian, but close enough to seem important. He listened to the Eldar boast about his abilities and blew out a long exaggerated breath through his nose which rustled his thick moustache. Since this appears to be an interview and analysis of your capabilities, is there any chance you could show us what you can do? I can have the kitchen staff throw vegetables at you for target practice, if that would be of use?

"And which aspect might you be?" Lethia asks, having an idea already from the uniform.

The very notion of being pelted by foreign foodstuffs disgusted Caervan, but he did his best to appear civil. "My skills are demonstrated in combat, Torian, not on vegetables. A Dire Avenger's skills shall not be subjected to mockery such as yours." Caervan then began playing (if that was even the right word for it) with his shuriken catapult, deftly waving it in the air as if both inspecting the weapon and showing it off at the same time.

"None of you may trust me--which is the right call in such a scenario--but you can all trust in my skills. I have not lived in the void for two centuries by being idle."

Roderick winked at the Eldar, Fair point. It was worth an ask. Feeling pleased with where the conversation was heading, Roderick leaned forward and reached into his breast pocket. There was a flash of silver and a small flask appeared in his hand. He took a nip and offered it to Alexium. When it was handed back, he screwed the lid on and began mimicking Caervan's moves with it, inspecting and listening to the slosh of the golden liquid inside. I'll be Frank, and you can be Bruce. I'm interested to know your story and how you were marooned on that particular ship. I'm hungry to get back on it and add it's power to this steed, but I am interested in a good yarn. I'm not too concerned about trust, as you're in the belly of this beast now, so there's no escaping it if you are true to the profile of the deceitful Eldar and turn on us. I like you, and your skills would be useful. Creesh, he used the old Dalmore word, roughly translated as shit, your dry personality would even fit well at Alexium and I's drinking table one day. So come, spill your guts and then we can get back to...exploring He gave another wink and had another pull.

Alexium nodded thanks as they took the flask, took a swig, smiled approvingly, and handed it back.

Satisfied, they then turned back their blindfolded gaze to the Eldar in their midst. The smile they wore was somewhere between genuine and awww look at you.

Torian sat quietly and listened. He felt some vindictive pleasure in hearing the team give as good as they got from this snippy xenos. He did seem quite deadly, that was certain.

"Your assessment is not innaccurate. Although, perhaps you did not notice our immediately recent victory from whatever crawlspace you called home in that drifting shit-heap. Nonetheless, I could use a warrior to bolster our combat readiness. Unfortunately, a warrior I cannot trust is worse than useless.

From my observations, you seem to be lacking in, well... nearly everything. I can provide for you shelter, food, water, a vessel to travel the stars, a means of contacting your people, survival.

What I require from you to settle this negotiation is an understanding of your purpose and goals. They do not need to align with my own, but without understanding them I cannot even trust you to behave according to your own. I must be able to trust you to at least that minimum degree, or you would be of more use to me in a cell in the brig than as an armed warrior of my house."

callume26 wrote:

The very notion of being pelted by foreign foodstuffs disgusted Caervan, but he did his best to appear civil. "My skills are demonstrated in combat, Torian, not on vegetables. A Dire Avenger's skills shall not be subjected to mockery such as yours." Caervan then began playing (if that was even the right word for it) with his shuriken catapult, deftly waving it in the air as if both inspecting the weapon and showing it off at the same time.

"None of you may trust me--which is the right call in such a scenario--but you can all trust in my skills. I have not lived in the void for two centuries by being idle."

Lethia smiled inwardly. She just found out that this was a dire avenger aspect - A small arms powerhouse.

Caervan was impressed at the humans' ability to verbally spar with him--he had been forced to entertain much blander specimens on previous occasions, and found the crew of this ship to be in good taste. Perhaps they would not be such bad company after all. Having a psyker onboard would help as well...provided they controlled their gift and used it wisely.

On noting Torian's comment, Caervan stared him down. "I admire your ability to recognise lethality when confronted by it, but by your methodology I may be consigned to a cell regardless; your species' inherent distrust of mine--and mine of yours--may prevent us from fully trusting each other. So allow me to alleviate some of that distrust." Caervan then relaxed--as far as a taut Eldar could in such a situation--and began to tell his story.

"I shall save most of the minutia and personal details for a later time, but the short of my story is that I am looking for something that would warrant my return to my Craftworld. Although my life as an Aspect Warrior was purposeful, I grew disillusioned with the way Eldar live their lives. I desired a change, a new perspective to counter the rigidity of Eldar life. As fate would have it, I received a vision of a lost shrine very important to my people, particularly those of my Craftworld, Radaigea. Whether it is an Aspect Shrine, or something more, I cannot say. I spent little time on the Path of the Seer, so my psychic skills are--how do you say it?--far from perfect. All I know for certain is that my quest...requires, that I head for the Arcadian Expanse. That is where I was headed when the Xerachans laid waste to the vessel which was the latest in a long line of temporary abodes." Finishing his story, or at least the parts of it he did not mind sharing for now, Caervan put down his shuriken catapult, which had been in his hand the entire time, and his piercing eyes returned to Roderick.

"I wager that you have heard more entertaining stories, but there is mine. Do you have anything to say about it?"

Roderick paused as Caervan regarded him. A moment later he blew out another loud breathe through his nose, A bit dull, but as you say, there's more to it. Perhaps later we'll get you crying into your beer over the lack of your Da's love growing up. he looked over at Torian with a sly glint in his eye. No further questions, your Honour.

"I would like to hear more of this craftworld when time permits." Lethia said, unable to control her inquisitive nature.

She then turned to Torian.
"We are certainly in the expanse, searching ourselves." she said before asking the eldar once again.
"I must ask, what would you do in the case that we turn out on opposite sides of a particularly important issue. Would you kill us without hesitation?"

Alexium's smile widened at the question Lethia posed, eager for an answer.

Caervan pondered Lethia's question for a moment, unconsciously raising an eyebrow as he thought of an answer, which he soon gave, arching his eyebrows as his intensity grew in equal measure. "If my soul is at stake, then I will not hesitate to act in the interest of my own survival. I know not of any afterlife you humans cling to, but if my soul is not guarded upon my death, timely or otherwise, it becomes the prey of She Who Thirsts."

Caervan let his answer sink in for only a moment, before relaxing his face and seeming almost jovial. "Otherwise i will likely agree to disagree and move on. There is no sense in getting myself thrown off of the ship, is there?"

Lethia nodded. She was niether satisfied nor unsatisfied with the xenos' answer, but it was an especially prudent one.

And Prudence had a place on the ship.

Torian noted the affirmations from the team. He too found this xenos a good sport. He let his face soften and spoke with genuine sincerity.

"Very well. Welcome aboard. I will have quarters assigned to you and nourishment provided at your direction. Is there anything else you require? Do you desire any form of command or attendants? You are not unwelcome here, friend. After you show us around that derelict, there are some artefacts of your kind we possess that may interest you."

Caervan offered a silent thanks by way of a small nod. At least some humans could be reasoned with...not to mention the fact that their lust for discovery would lead to battles Caervan would love to take part in. "I appreciate the hospitality. I have no desire for any command aboard this vessel; I imagine more than a few would take offence to being given orders by a 'filthy xenos'," Caervan replied, complete with finger movements making air quotes, "however I would prefer a room with access to a view of the void, either directly in the room or near to it. Stargazing is a small hobby of mine, and they are important to all Eldar of all walks of life."

Caervan spoke nothing of Torian's offer of Eldar artefacts, but kept that nugget of information locked in his head until the team's exploration of the derelict was complete. For now, he could relax...to an extent.

callume26 wrote:

Caervan pondered Lethia's question for a moment, unconsciously raising an eyebrow as he thought of an answer, which he soon gave, arching his eyebrows as his intensity grew in equal measure. "If my soul is at stake, then I will not hesitate to act in the interest of my own survival. I know not of any afterlife you humans cling to, but if my soul is not guarded upon my death, timely or otherwise, it becomes the prey of She Who Thirsts."

Caervan let his answer sink in for only a moment, before relaxing his face and seeming almost jovial. "Otherwise i will likely agree to disagree and move on. There is no sense in getting myself thrown off of the ship, is there?"

"How curious," Alexium perked up after listening to the Eldar in their typical soft, singsong voice. "You disregard the thought of an afterlife and are equal parts terrified for the fate of your soul after you die. She Who Thirts sounds..."

Don't say "sexy"; don't say "sexy"; don't say "sexy."

"...scary? Hmm, I must ask, have we," and they emphasized this point by gently spreading their arms and motioning toward everyone gathered, "Done anything, or made any moves to make you feel as though we are going to harm you or indiscriminately throw you off the ship? I have to assume your dealings with humans in the past haven't been great. But let me ease your mind a bit when I say to take us at our word. We are fucking awesome. You should be so lucky."

The childlike Astropath smiled widely. They meant what they had said. This crew was fucking awesome.

The point was emphasized when Torian reinforced the Eldar's welcome.

Your team-plus one addition-returned to the ruined ship.

The open door loomed in front of your team. The door itself was nearly six inches thick-anything short of a melta-drill or a breaching auger would have struggled to cut through. A number of large metal shards where in the doorjamb and appeared to have blocked the door-though as your previous inspection had shown, this was intentional.

As such, your Eldar companion had no information on the inner ship, beyond the fact it was filled with traps.

"There is no afterlife as your people know it...or at least, that is what I believe in." Caervan stated, matter of factly.

"As for making moves to harm me, you are correct in your assumption that my prior dealings with your kind have been--how you say--less than stellar. Being cautious is merely a part of my way of life as an outcast. Try not to take it personally." There was the merest hint of sincerity in Caervan's final few words, as if the warp-touched human were worthy of such a thing.

Perhaps because Caervan knew what it was like to gaze into that wretched abyss.

Torian was ready to see this prize. The diversion for Caervan was necessary, but he would not be delayed any longer. He voxed the ship, "bring in a breaching and demolitions team, two looter squads, and everything we have to detect and disarm explosives and other potential traps."

His mind swarmed with paranoia and he swept through the lenses of his archeogoggles, but would not let his paranoia overwhelm him. He swept his cloak over his shoulders, strode forward, and opened the door.

The conversation with Caervan had been more revealing than Alexium expected. That was nice. But now they were back on the clock with the rest of the team.

Time to fuck shit up.

They gently pushed their mind out to all of their crewmates present - all except Caervan. Linked together, they had a means of communication that blew any type of vox out of the water.

Equally gently, Alexium's soft voice echoed over the vox to the Eldar. "Caervan, my new friend, I have linked minds with the rest of the crew to ease communications. Given our prior meeting and your colorful warnings, I would be as bold as I would unkind to attempt such a thing on an unwilling mind. I woudl like to offer you the proverbial olive branch in this gesture. Would you like to be connected as well?"

The helm of Caervan's void armour prevented Alexium from seeing Caervan raise his eyebrows in that quintessentially-judgemental way that every Eldar knew how to do, although Caervan suspected that his erstwhile 'friends' expected judgement (and perhaps sarcasm and/or death threats) at every turn from him. Caervan was all too familiar with the benefits of psychic communication--he had been subject to it during his time as a Guardian, when Warlocks were relied upon to hold the civilian militia units together. To have a human psyker inside his mind, however, felt...wrong, disgusting even.

That being said, the benefits, for the moment, outweighed the downsides. Caervan paused for a second, as if to really steel himself for what was about to happen, and spoke.

"I have your word that the bond will be for communication purposes only?" Caervan's tone was an unhealthy mix of 'are you really doing this?' and 'you will die if this goes wrong'. Then again, many Eldar would say allying with humans at all, for any reason, was unhealthy in the extreme, so Caervan figured he would bite the proverbial bullet.

Roderick passed through the threshold. He was fair vibrating inside his skin at the thought of adding the power and menace of this ship to the Mundus. He kept an eye out, scanning for anything dangerous, but also anything that might hide "treasure". He moved up to a point beside Torian. He would impose himself in front of the Lord Captain if there were any danger.

Alexium voxed back, "You have my word."

"Very well then. You may make the connection." Caervan relaxed his mind, and prayed only for the experience to be over and done with. Psychic communion was not his favoured method of communication, but if it eased relations with the humans, then he would acquiesce.