Chapter 26: Cultural exchange
Nidhog153
Warhammer Lore Lover and Nasu-verse enjoyer.
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A/N: I've added some links to music and ambient sounds. These are just my personal opinion, so take them or leave them. Put the name in quotes ("") if searching on YouTube, otherwise you'll get a lot of unrelated search results.
A/N2: There are some terms that may require defining for this section.
Tritium: A radioactive isotope of hydrogen. It is formed when water is exposed to nuclear fallout or as a byproduct of nuclear fission reactors. It is physically heavier than normal hydrogen, and water made from tritium is called 'heavy water'. The added weight literally slows down the chemical reactions in your body, so drinking too much of it will kill you even without the radiation.
♪1 日向:re - Sunlit: re - Tsukihime 月姫 Remake OST
♪2 18 - Time Together (Right click, and select "Loop")
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After several days with the alien deity named Isha, I have learned a number of novel things about Aeldari culture and thinking. They are a proud race to the point of near ridiculousness, but their usage of psychic abilities seem to stretch into their daily lives even further than I first expected.
Another thing I can conclude is that the goddess is surprisingly useless.
Emperor's log Number 10950000
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♪1
Neoth sat down with a sigh on the steps of an empty Astropathic choir pedestal; the raised platform where the psykers tasked to serve as FTL communicators would stand.
The bundle of chains that was Isha shook once, before splitting apart as the Aeldari goddess flexed her arms, stretching them above her head.
They were both in the empty chamber of the battleship Artax, which was one of the most psychically shielded places in the entire vessel.
As for why the two gods were here instead of the Bucephelus…
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"My Lord… it is good to see you have returned to us." Lysander turned away from the holomap he was looking over with some of the commissioned officers of the Bucephelus, and Captain Velor as the Emperor emerged onto the bridge of the Artax. Cold sweat drenched the Commodore, and ran off his brow in large droplets even as he saluted the Master of Mankind.
Most of the crew were in a similar state of disarray, having just barely survived the psychic Exterminatus that was Isha a few minutes before. The hands made of molten magma were only a few hundred meters away, and were approaching from every direction possible before they started receding. He could see several of the bridge crews' knees were still trembling..
His miracle may have given them the strength to stand firm, but now that it had ended and the adrenaline had started to run out of their system confusion and panic was beginning to grow within them.
"At ease." Neoth said as he gave a short salute to the various operators and officers who had begun to stand to attention in order to salute him.
He had already given the psychic order to stand down and decrease the threat level of the fleet while he had been wrapping Isha in chains. That meant the fleet was no longer in a combat situation, so military regulation dictated that the bridge crew should salute the most senior officer when they appeared. However, Neoth would prefer it if they didn't look towards him at the moment. Nobody seemed to notice the bundle of chains on his shoulder so far, and it would be a lot easier for him if they remained distracted.
The crew turned back to their terminals and returned to their stations, but he could see most were still trying to look at him and Lysander out of the corner of their eye while keeping both ears open to pick-up anything that might be said between the two of them.
"Would it be possible to have an explanation of the situation, My Lord?" Lysander asked as he stepped closer to the Emperor, dropping his voice to a whisper.
Neoth saw several ears and necks twitch, including those that belonged to Captain Velor, straining to hear the answer.
The people here were mostly the crew of the Artax, and were unaware of Isha's presence. The only one here who knew of her in any detail was Lysander, and even then it was as the 'Catumen' of the Aeldari.
Now, how was he going to explain away all their fears without telling them the truth?
"A Xenos artifact found by the Tech Priests on the previous planet we visited activated itself. I jettisoned it off of the Bucephelus, and deactivated it."
The Emperor's answer: Blame someone else.
Even tens of thousands of years in the future, politics is still a mudslinging blame game.
The timeline of events matched, and the scapegoated Xeno Biologis were all mind-dead; unable to retort or defend themselves. Additionally, it reinforced his previous teachings of the dangers of Xeno technology, while assuring them all that he was the only one who could safely handle it.
"I… see." Lysander replied.
The Commodore knew that was not the entire truth, but he was also aware of the others around them. The Emperor's statement also told him enough. The 'Catumen' had been dealt with, and that was why the hands made of magma had receded. However…
"And the device?" The Commodore asked as he shot a brief look at the bundle of golden chains on the Emperor's shoulder. A bundle that was about as long as the 'Catumen' had been tall.
The Emperor walked around Lysander while making sure to keep the pointy ears and golden hair sticking out of the top of the bundle hidden behind his back.
"I have it here, and I am taking it back to Terra."
There was a rather audible silence on the bridge, but the unspoken question of 'Are you serious?!' was unanimously voiced internally by all who were within earshot.
Of course, being the most powerful psyker of all humanity, Neoth heard their thoughts loud and clear.
However, being the biggest tyrant in human history, he ignored all of them.
"It is a terraforming device of impressive scale, as you saw." Neoth remarked nonchalantly, as he silently summoned the Custodes on the bridge to stand behind him. "Although dangerous, it has its uses."
There was another moment of silence. The Emperor's tone was the same as if he had just picked up a motorized hedge trimmer from a gardening shop, instead of something that had almost destroyed the entire fleet.
The Commodores opened his mouth again, but closed it as he saw the Emperor smile; a very arrogant all-knowing smile that was full of aplomb.
Lysander knew what his lord was doing. He had seen similar acts put on by the various nobilities or equivalents on Terra.
One of the most important traits of a politician is confidence. Nobody wants to follow a leader that is unsure of themselves. The Emperor was expressing this aspect to the utmost, effectively bulldozing any doubts placed before him by pretending there was nothing to be worried about in the first place.
"I see." Lysander replied. He knew the Emperor was lying through omission, but his shaken wits had recovered enough to realize that now was not the time to share the knowledge of the Catumen's existence with the rest of the fleet. Besides, it was always best to nod and accept what the Master of Mankind said while he was smiling.
"Shall we begin returning to the Bucephelus?" He enquired instead.
"Yes, begin the re-embarkation." The Emperor nodded, and Lysander began to salute the Emperor to acknowledge the order, only to stop mid-way at the next sentence. "I will remain on the Artax with the device. Vacate the Astropathic choir. I will need it to contact Terra directly so the necessary arrangements can be made. Notify me when the fleet is ready to begin Warp travel."
Lysander caught Captain Velor swiveling his head in their direction out of the corner of his eye with a look of pure dread. The Commodore could understand the feeling. He would have not enjoyed the thought of having a device that could destroy an entire planet on his ship either.
The very fact that the Emperor was not taking it back to the Bucephelus hinted that there was a non-zero chance that whatever had happened on the planet could happen again. It was also quite obvious to everyone that, although the Artax was important, it was less valuable than the Bucephelus. The only thing that prevented a panic was that the Emperor would remain on board with it as well.
Unfortunately, that was probably the second reason why the Captain's face was filled with dread. Although it was a great honor to have the Emperor on board, practically speaking it was a nightmare for the commanding officer of any vessel. Most Captains already disliked having a senior officer or a member of the nobility on board. Not only would they have to play host to their guest, they would have to ensure that both themselves and the rest of their crew were on their best behavior. Failure to do so usually risked your career in the Navy.
The Emperor was the sovereign and commander of all the military forces belonging to the Imperium of Man. One wrong step or improper word from anyone could theoretically result in them and the Captain being converted into servitors.
'Well, it's not as bad as most people fear.' Lysander thought to himself, having traveled with the Emperor many times already. His Lord was fully capable of letting the occasional faux pas slide, and most humans were usually too awed by his presence to think of being rude to him.
"As you wish, my Lord." Lysander saluted before turning towards the Captain who now had a very strained smile plastered on his face. "Vacate the Astropathic Choir, Captain. I will be borrowing your Vox officer to prepare the fleet's return home."
"Yes, Sir." Captain Velor saluted, finally regaining control of his expressions.
The two military men turned back to the Emperor, only to see him already leaving the bridge with his Custodes directly behind him.
"Do not bother with an escort, Captain Velor. I will walk to the Astropathic Choir myself. Just see that it is vacated before I get there."
"As you will, my Lord." The Captain saluted the Emperor's back as both him and his Custodes disappeared behind the door.
Lysander sighed to himself. He had no idea what had happened on the planet below, but the Emperor had returned unscarred, unexhausted, and without a blemish upon his armor. Hopefully, that was a sign that the Master of Mankind had dealt with the Catumen easily, or whatever was defined as 'easy' for a being of such enormous power such as him.
'But, that's definitely not a corpse in those chains.' He thought to himself. 'A corpse's ears don't move.'
Just before the Custodes had gotten in position behind the Emperor to hide the portion of chains slung over his back, he saw a pointed ear poking out of the chains flicking like a cat's.
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Neoth sighed internally as he stood on the internal three-dimensional elevator that would take them to the deck the Astropathic Choir was on.
He had originally returned to the Bucephelus, but the moment he left the Warp portal every hidden gun turret and security drone activated themselves and pointed their weapons at the bundle of chains that was Isha.
The ship's artificial soul was furious with her, and refused to decrease her threat level. Naturally, as he was trying to make Isha not to appear like a threat, having every internal weapon on the Bucephelus pointed at her at all times was not helping the impression. Even now, he could hear the Bucephelus snorting and grunting irritably as he stroked its partially organic mind, attempting to calm it down.
He could overwrite the ship's mind, wipe its memory, and force it to obey him. However, after having just fought with the entirety of unified humanity at his back, it felt a little too heavy handed to effectively beat the ship into submission after it had served him so loyally.
'A feeling I haven't felt in a long time, to be honest…' He thought to himself.
Until now, there was just the path, the plan, the singular road to salvation for humanity.
Under those circumstances, he felt no hesitation. There was no loyalty; only obedience or destruction.
Now, there were options.
He could take the shortest route, or take a more roundabout one. Both would get him to his destination, and possibly in the same amount of time.
Mind wiping the Bucephelus was the faster path, but convincing the Bucephelus was not the step that took the most time. Physically getting the crew back on board, reorganizing the fleet, and preparing it to return to Terra was the most time consuming. Thus, that was the critical path for the process of returning home. Additionally, there was no reason for him to be on the Bucephelus in the first place. He could guide the fleet back on any of the ships, and the psychically shielded and physically reinforced Astropathic Choir chamber of the Artax would provide enough privacy for him and Isha.
Neoth continued reviewing his other plans with this new mindset as he walked to the Astropathic Choir chamber. The 50 cm thick double doors were left open with a platoon of soldiers standing guard.
He acknowledged their salutes with a nod as he walked past them, and gave a quick glance to the Custodes who had been quite literally covering his back the entire time.
The Custodes gave a chest level salute before turning around and dismissing the soldiers as Neoth shut the double doors with a brief burst of telekinesis. The soldiers would not be needed, and his Custodes would be more than enough to ensure the privacy of the chamber.
Placing Isha on the ground, he sat down with a sigh on the steps of the empty Astropathic choir pedestal and watched Isha emerge from the chains.
"Do you have any shame at all?" The goddess smirked as she stretched her limbs. "Your brazenness was so ridiculous I almost laughed. Holding it in was so hard, I couldn't stop my ears from twitching."
Neoth snorted at her comment. He knew she was referring to the lie he told the crew of the Artax and Lysander.
However, with context from their previous conversations, he knew this was a jest of hers. Eldanesh had told far worse lies and made up far more farcical stories than he had according to her, and she viewed her favored son with pride. Thus, this was just a jibe at him, trying to needle him with his own sense of shame.
The Aeldari had long memories, and conversations often referenced things said in ages past, requiring a fair bit of context to fully understand what was being said. It was as if the entire species shared an internal joke, and viewed anyone who didn't get it with contempt. To be insulted here would be a demonstration of a faulty memory on his part in Aeldari society, and a further point of mockery.
Isha finished stretching as Neoth reviewed this portion of Aeldari culture and looked around the room before jumping up to a curved alcove several meters above the ground, lying back and making herself comfortable like a cat on a windowsill.
"I'd say the same thing to you." Neoth replied dryly as he cast a look at her exposed left leg and thigh from the side of her shift. "How about putting on some underwear?"
Isha wore nothing but a simple shift, which was not much more than a long white sheet with a hole in it for her head. The sides of the fabric wrapped around her unnaturally, as if hidden strings were holding the material closed, hiding most of her sides. However, lying back as she was now, part of her waist and the side of her torso was exposed. There was no evidence of a waist band or wrappings that would have indicated some sort of undergarment around her groin and chest there.
"Why should I?" Isha shrugged. "My children's form is one I take pride in. What shame is there to feel in showing it?"
Neoth snorted at that. She spoke as if explaining the most obvious thing in the world. He knew she preferred her Aeldari form, but to take that much pride in it bordered on narcissism.
"Then why don't you walk around naked?" He countered.
Logically, if she took so much pride in her children's form, then that was the natural conclusion. If she truly felt it was an expression of artistic or naturalistic beauty, then why hide it under any clothing at all? There was no practical purpose for it, for her skin was far tougher than any armor.
"What other reason beside pride could there be?" Isha retorted. "You do not hide a piece of artwork in a gallery out of shame. You keep it there to ensure it is given the proper treatment and appreciation so only those who are worthy can view it. To expose such a thing to all cheapens it."
'Pride. Of course, that's their motivation.' Neoth grumbled to himself as several other previous experiences fit into place.
He had memories of human men and women from the Golden Age of mankind who had tried to romantically or lustfully meddle with the Aeldari. Whether one could call such people fools, explorers, or heroes of a different kind was debatable. However, their romantic attempts were still, in a way, legendary. However, all of those who attempted to either glimpse or strip the Aeldari in order to view their nakedness often ended with a grisly demise. Every time, the main emotion expressed by the Aeldari was a furious anger. He had often thought that it was simply a more extreme version of the same reaction a human man or woman would have if treated in the same way, but that was not the case.
The Aeldari did not take their vengeance out of shame or humiliation, but pure injured pride. Someone who was unworthy had viewed their natural beauty, and had effectively insulted them. Thus, the only emotion they felt in return was rage.
It was an interesting insight into the Aeldari mind. However…
"If you're going to come with me to Terra, I'm going to have to ask you to follow some human customs." Neoth sighed as he reached into a small hand-sized portal behind him. "Having an alien such as yourself walking around in only a shift is problematic for my people. You are beautiful, after all." He said boredly.
"Thank you." Isha snorted. "I've never heard that word uttered with so little interest or emotion."
"It is a material fact, no different than water being wet or dust being dry. To call you anything else would be a blatant lie." Neoth shrugged as he continued to rummage around in the portal before pulling a pair of black sports underwear. "If you need a pair use these." He threw them up to the alcove where Isha sat, where she caught them before stretching them out and inspecting them.
The pair of shorts was clearly too small for Neoth's bulk, and was quite form fitting without the space in the front a male would require; making it obvious that these were for feminine use.
"Well, well." Isha chuckled as she turned the piece of clothing inside and out. "So, who did you steal these from?" She said as she narrowed her eyes at him in mock accusation.
Neoth narrowed his own in return as he growled back. "That pair belongs to me."
"To give to someone, or wear yourself?"
"Idiot." Neoth snorted as his form changed into that of a raven haired woman of equal size in his auramite power armor. "I was a man when I was mortal, but I am no longer male nor female anymore. Of course my clothing would need to change depending on what form I take."
"Calm yourself, I make no judgment." She laughed, twirling the pair of shorts on her finger. "I'm just glad they're not gold like the rest of your attire."
Neoth continued to glare at Isha in her feminine form. The Aeldari goddess was mocking and teasing him on purpose. Whether it was petty revenge for being wrapped up in chains, or some sort of Aeldari attempt to break the ice between them was a mystery to him. However, with nothing better to do as the crew of the Bucephelus returned to the ship, she sighed and joined the goddess in idle chatter.
"Even if you don't wear shorts, surely your daughters would require a brassiere of some sort, especially with all the acrobatics your kind enjoys during combat."
Neoth had spent a number of years as a woman on several occasions, and had memories of all the heroines who had joined her mind. A woman's underwear had a practical function of making sure certain parts didn't flop about during exercise or movement. Some female warriors struggled with this excess baggage that men didn't have to carry, and there were many locker room chats between women about the annoyance of having to wrap everything down or risk a rather unflattering dull throbbing chest pain caused by centripetal force; not to mention the problems with the shift in balance this would cause for the more well endowed members of humanity.
"A logical conclusion." Isha shrugged. "However, our muscles, tendons, and connective tissues are hardier than those in humans. We don't have to worry about things flopping around as much as your kind does in the first place."
'Oh, is that so?' Neoth muttered sarcastically internally. She was getting tired of hearing how much better the Aeldari's body was compared to humans.
"On top of that, most of my children wear Wraithbone based clothing." Isha continued, ignoring the annoyed look Neoth was shooting her with. "It can mold itself according to their psychic commands. Their armor and combat harnesses usually optimize themselves to be the most comfortable. Even this simple shift is made of the same material." She said as she tugged at the edge of the hole where her head stuck out of. "How else do you think it clung to my form during our battle on the planet below?"
'Now that I think about it…' Neoth replayed the entirety of their battle on the planet below. Besides the time they had both been fried to a crisp by lightning, Isha's shift had remained upon her, almost glued to her skin. The Goddess of Heroes hadn't had time to notice that oddity, but now that she thought about it, Isha's clothing defied physics. Even when she landed from a jump or retreated from a lunge, the lower edges of her clothing had moved against gravity, air resistance, and inertia in order to keep the goddess's nethers covered.
"That sounds useful." From a purely practical perspective, Neoth could admit she wouldn't mind clothing like that.
"Of course it is." Isha said as she puffed out her chest. "But, I don't think it would suit you."
Neoth narrowed her eyes at that. "Why not?" If the alien goddess was going to make a comment about her size, style, or choice of color, she had a few choice insults to hurl back at her.
"Do you use your psychic abilities like you do the Vellus hairs on your skin?" Isha asked as she rubbed her forearm. "Can you control your power like you control your pores or intestinal glands? If the answer is no, then this clothing would be no different from ordinary cloth."
Vellus hairs were the near invisible hairs that stood up with goosebumps. Pores and intestinal glands were both controlled by automated nerves that responded to reflexes. In other words, Isha was claiming that the Aeldari used their psyker abilities with the same control a human had over their involuntary autonomic nervous system. i.e. With no control at all, but instinctual harmony.
"You use your psyker abilities for something as trivial as that?" She said with one raised eyebrow.
Psykers were some of the more empowered members of the human race, and could destroy armies with their minds. To use the gifts that could tear open holes in reality to control clothing seemed ridiculous.
"It's not like we have a choice. Our gifts are part of us, and there is no changing that. Regardless…" She paused, touching the thin white Wraithbone shift upon her, bringing them back to the original topic of her attire. "My scantily clad appearance before you is not just an admission of your worth, but also a display of how far the Aeldari have fallen. Our racial pride is not worth much now."
'Oh, really?' Neoth thought to herself. If this was Isha's attempt at humility, the message was lost in translation.
"I guess I should feel fortunate to be able to gaze upon the goddess's toes." She retorted sarcastically.
Isha laughed in response.
"These feet have alighted upon a million worlds, traveled the galaxy from rim to rim, and waded through the deepest currents of the immaterium. They have more worth than your tone suggests."
Neoth sighed. She had been expecting that reply. After all, that would have been something she would have said herself.
'I wonder if this is what it feels to be on the receiving end of one of my speeches.'
Arrogant. Stubborn. Overconfident. If there were a consistent set of character flaws used to describe the Emperor, it would be those.
"You seem rather relaxed." Neonth said, changing the subject. "Do you have time for idle chatter?"
"Time has no meaning within the immaterium." Isha shrugged. "That is both a curse, and a boon at this moment. Anything I do is too late, but being too late means that there is no point in rushing ahead. Better to bide my time and ensure we can achieve our goals."
There was a rustling of leaves and branches, and a single vine tipped with a pink-purple bud appeared from behind her. Isha touched the bud gently, and Neoth saw the thing inside wriggle slightly.
"And do not worry about my children. I can talk with you while making my own preparations. I was once connected to every world of my children's empire; the biospheres of a million planets were monitored and managed by my mind. I am used to multi-tasking."
The flowerbud receded back into Isha.
'A single miracle, and perhaps a few other minor blessings.' That was how much power Isha said she had. Her miracle had been activated, and she was using up the rest of her reserves to assist the surviving twins that she had remained attached to.
Neoth frowned at that.
"Even so, you seem to be enjoying yourself too much." She huffed.
Isha's display of making herself vulnerable like this unnerved her. They may have agreed to work together for the immediate future, but depending on the circumstances even the staunchest alliances could be quickly broken. The Empress would never be able to disarm herself in the way Isha was doing now.
"There is no point submerging myself in misery. Better to walk forwards with a laugh and a smile." The goddess laughed sadly as she curled up in the alcove. "Besides, sorrow and suffering are the beginning of my miracle. Steeping myself in them too long would be dangerous for me and for you."
'That would be problematic.' Neoth thought to herself as she rubbed her temples. She may have survived Isha's miracle once, but it had been close. Additionally, with her shield currently out of commission and reforming, she lacked one of the key tools necessary to push through the endless onslaught of natural disasters.
"Enough of this banter." She said as she stood up from the steps of the Astropathic choir pedestal. "Let's talk about more constructive things." Neoth reached into another portal and pulled out a data pad. "I have a list of things I thought you could help me with, and I'd like to go through it with you."
"Fine." Isha said as she jumped down from alcove, slipping into the pair of shorts Neoth had given her as she fell. Her shift hid her hands and nethers while she put them on as she dropped downwards, disobeying the air resistance that should have lifted the hem upwards. "Depleted I may be, but the problems of mortal man should be easy enough to deal with my 60 million years worth of wisdom."
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♪2
"..." Neoth remained silent as she crossed out another item on her list.
"..." Isha remained silent, turned away from the Goddess of Heroes with crossed arms.
"And that's the end of my list." Neoth spoke as she looked up from her data pad. "What was that about problems and wisdom you were mouthing off earlier?"
Isha's ears twitched, but she refused to turn back towards Neoth.
The Goddess of Heroes took the moment of silence to smirk. "At the very least, it is refreshing to see prayer is about as useful as it always is."
Prayers are the requests made to gods, and the requests Neoth made to Isha all came back with useless answers. As the deity who believed gods were useless, it was a refreshing reaffirmation of Neoth's beliefs.
"Problem solving takes time." Isha replied sulkily. "I gave you the answer that immediately came to mind. It is not my fault that you find them disagreeable."
"Alright, let's go over the main ones again." Neoth scrolled back to the top of the list. "Your first answer regarding assisting me with the Space Marine was to restore their reproductive functions."
"They are flawed as a life form." Isha snorted. "As they are now, they are not much more than surgically modified humans parasitized by the Progenoid gland. The first improvement would be to allow them to reproduce naturally, and grow their population so evolution can improve and adapt them over time."
"I am not doing that." Neoth retorted irritably. "The Space Marines must be born from humanity, and be their exemplar. However, they cannot be their replacement. They are to be the heroes of humanity, not their usurpers. It is not my goal to create a new race of hyper muscled Ubermensch to replace humanity."
"Says the oversized hulk in golden armor." Isha muttered with a pout.
"I am going to pretend I didn't hear that." Neoth replied with a smile, and Isha remained silent as the Goddess of Heroes looked back down at the data pad. "Besides, your other suggestions to improve them weren't much better. What is this thing with a scorpion tail, extra arms, claws, fangs, and insectile wings? It barely looks humanoid."
"I thought you didn't mind including animal traits into your warriors." The goddess snarked as she shot him an annoyed look over her shoulder.
Some of the Space Marines did have certain animalistic traits like wings, horns, and wolfish features. However…
"This is going too far." Neoth sighed as she rubbed her temples. "It looks more like a Chaos spawn than a soldier."
"I like it. It reminds me of the Warp spiders back home. Besides, look at how the spine and back muscles curve to rebalance the tail, as well as the way the increased number of shoulder blades and collar bones bulk out the chest. Thematically, it is a good mix of physical features between our two races."
"Gigeresque is how I would describe it, and I'm not making this. It's horrifying."
"Fine then." Isha huffed. "I'll take your criticisms into consideration and come up with something else."
'I'm not sure I want to see what comes next.' Neoth thought to herself. Their aesthetic tastes differed in more ways than one.
"In the first place, don't you think it cruel to convert them into such an abomination?" Neoth said as he turned the data pad towards Isha with the tentative image her suggested genetic modifications would have produced. "Besides their appearance, it would be a nightmare to carry out day to day tasks with this body; especially the tail."
"Leaving aside the point of whether you would call them abominations or not…" Isha replied irritably. "I don't think it's a major issue. The body shapes the soul, but in the end it is just a container. If their changed form is too difficult to bear, then a different one can be prepared."
Neoth took a moment to mull things over in her mind. For Isha, this abomination was meant to be a choice. It would be up to the individual whether they wanted to remain as it or not.
"Like the reincarnation process of the Aeldari."
"Exactly." Isha nodded. "Some of my children modified their bodies for combat. That fact should be obvious after seeing the Psychomatons. They didn't gain control of all 6 arms instantaneously. It took many lifetimes to grow used to them, gradually going from 1 pair to 2 and 3. The few who were able to take off their War mask before becoming Psychomatons began the process of returning to a calmer life by reverting to a body less associated with combat."
'Hmm, I see.' Neoth thought to herself as something clicked together.
Isha, and by extrapolation the Aeldari, didn't view their bodies to be intrinsically part of them the same way humans did. In a sense, their physical form was just housing for their true self; their soul. The pride they felt in their bodies was akin to the pride one took in one's favorite vehicle. Thus, they enjoyed and coveted their body's beauty, for it truly was a piece of art to them in a way only the most perverse humans viewed their own skin, flesh, and bone.
"Could the process be used to transfer a soul from an older body to a younger one?" An idea had begun to form in Neoth's mind.
"Of course. That is how the process functions naturally." Isha nodded as she turned back towards the Empress. "I see. You want to expand the age of recruitment for your legions. The biological process of transformation is more expensive when using an already developed body, but a cloned younger body with the same soul would allow you to take older humans and transform them into your super soldiers without much difficulty."
Logically, the effort required to transfer a soul from one body to another would usually dwarf the effort surgically modifying an adult to become a lesser version of a Space Marine. However, with a deity who knew the intricacies of the process, the hurdles and experimentation necessary were greatly reduced.
"Using children has its advantages. The psychological indoctrination and mental hardening to ensure their loyalty to the cause of humanity are easier to instill in a mind with less prejudices and preconceptions." Neoth recited his other reasons for using children to form his legions. "However, even though a more experienced soul may be less obedient, it could be more efficient. Each legion is meant to be an expert in a certain style of war. However, as they are, the children who are transformed into my Space Marines run the risk of mental stagnation and over reliance on singular strategies due to their training. Repetition nurtures expertise, but over specialization can become a hindrance."
"An interesting conclusion, and one with precedent." Isha nodded. "The Battle of Midway was won in part due to the disobedience and disorganization of several pilots who did what they thought was best from their personal combat experience. Likewise, a Space Marine created from a reincarnated soldier who chooses to serve may bring a greater breadth of experience that a well trained child soldier could not. Of course, it will take longer for them to get used to their new body, unlike the children who grow into it as if it were their own."
"There are positives and negatives with using both." Neoth shrugged. "At the very least, it is another option for recruitment."
"Fine. I can teach you how Aeldari bodies call back my children's souls from the Othersea." The Aeldari goddess said with a nod, then glared at the Emperess. "Your Malcador has already proven that the process can work for mortal species other than my children."
Neoth frowned at the sudden hostility emitted from Isha, then grimaced as she deduced who the goddess was referring to.
"Ael Wyntor, the Aeldari-human hybrid made by Malcador."
"He has a limited ability to reincarnate, although it requires Malcador's psychic abilities and the body of one of my sons you found in the Webway." Isha sighed, closing her eyes and withdrawing the hostile aura she was projecting. "His existence proves that the process of reincarnation is not impossible for non-Aeldari."
Neoth sighed internally as she remembered what Malcador's 'friend' was being used for.
"Will you want them back?" She asked, referring to both the corpse of the Aeldari and Ael Wyntor himself.
"He isn't Aeldari, but I will be taking him and the corpse of my child from Malcador." Isha nodded. "What the Sigillite does to him is cruel."
'Well, she's not wrong.' The Empress thought to herself.
Malcador created Ael Wyntor from the remains of an Aeldari male recovered during their earliest explorations into the Webway. Using gene tech from the Dark Age of Technology, a half Aeldari-human hybrid was created. The Sigillite befriended his hybrid creation, but although that friendship meant Ael Wyntor lived in relative luxury compared to the rest of humanity, that friendship came with a price.
As Malcador's 'friend', Ael Wyntor was given the privilege of chatting with the Sigillite. However, as a 'friend' Ael Wyntor would also have to listen to the occasional secret the Sigillite 'confessed'.
After listening to those secrets, Ael Wyntor would eventually commit suicide.
Malcador spared no expense describing what exactly he did in the past, and the results of his actions. The mental anguish and trauma from listening to Malcador's confessions always drove Ael Wyntor into depression, and then to death. However, death was never the end for the Aeldari-human hybrid. Malcador would clone his body, recover his soul from the immaterium, erase his memories, and 'befriend' this 'lucky' civilian only to use him as an emotional punching bag all over again.
"I did not care what Malcador did to relax. Ael Wyntor is not human, after all." Neoth sighed. "But, if you want him, you can have him and the remains. In exchange, I will need your expertise externalizing the process so the organic process of the Aeldari can be replicated with machinery for humans. You won't be letting me dissect Ael Wyntor to figure out how his reincarnation functions, so I'll need that much in return at the very least."
Converting all of humanity or even all Space Marine recruits into Aeldari-human hybrids was unrealistic and undesirable. Ael Wyntor seemed to be safe from Slaanesh, but there was no guarantee that disinterest would continue. The process for transferring souls would have to be a mechanical one.
"Fine. I may not have Vaul's talents, but I can tell you whether you are getting closer or further from your goal."
"That is good enough."
Neoth looked back down at his list of other items Isha had failed to provide adequate solutions for.
There was some progress with the Space Marines after rediscussing them with Isha, but her answers to the rest were even worse than her scorpion tailed suggestion for the Space Marines.
"Although I admit I did not have high hopes, fixing Terra while keeping the population and infrastructure as they are is impossible for you, isn't it?"
"You know how my miracle works. You can have either Terra reformatted, or the existing infrastructure and population, but the two outcomes are mutually exclusive." Isha sighed. "Quite frankly, I haven't seen a planet this badly mistreated since the War in Heaven. Even if I had the reserves to do so, the best I can do is to allow it to support a post-industrial society on its own once more. However, the planet lacks the metals and minerals to support an expansionary space travel capable civilization. You humans have depleted it of almost everything. Even if I reformatted the planet, the only materials that would be reused would be the ones that are already part of the hive cities and factories your kind inhabit. My children would be able to overcome this deficiency with Wraithbone, but your kind is reliant on material resources. Unless you also want to add mass to the planet through several decades worth of meteorite impacts, Terra's depleted state is permanent."
"That's about as much as I expected…" The Goddess of Heroes sighed. "But isn't there anything you can do?"
"Not without further study on the ground. The information you have on hand regarding Terra is limited." The goddess shrugged. "I could create life that could survive on that planet, but that would be life adapted to Terra as it is now. It would be every bit as alien as me to humanity."
Neoth raised an eyebrow at that. "What sort of life?" Terra had enough biological monstrosities running around.
"Mostly simple microorganisms, fungi-like life forms, and symbiotic creatures that form lichen colonies. The heavy metal and radiation poisoning in the water will stunt the development of any life that remotely resembles what evolved on Terra originally. I would have to start with aquatic life forms that would purify the planet's water supply before moving on to anything else."
"You would start within the underground aquifers?" Neoth's voice was tinged with surprise. "They're the most dangerous of all Terra's environments."
Terra was a depleted world. It was the birthplace of humanity, but being the first stepping stone to the stars, it was the one that got trodden on the most. All the ships and construction equipment to create prefabricated constructs for terraforming other worlds were taken from Terra's soil. Every ship that left and never came back was a permanent loss to the planet. The only thing that kept it habitable was the constant influx of materials it reaped after its successful colonization efforts began to reap their rewards as the human federation spread across the stars.
All of that ended with the coming of Old Night, and the end of the Golden Age of humanity.
Depleted Terra, cut off from its colonies and supply lines, descended into civil war.
Nuclear weapons carpet bombed continents, and seismic weaponry was deployed using subterranean shockwaves to shatter the buried bunkers belonging to the various warring factions of humanity. Eventually, Terra's crust cracked open, and the oceans began to pour into the massive underground hive complexes, bunkers, and ancient strip mines underneath the crust. Years worth of nuclear fallout and the polluted remains of the mines dissolved into the oceans of Terra as they drained away, turning them into underground aquifers filled to the brim with a toxic soup of radiation, heavy metals, and organic solvents.
The once blue-green Terra was now a brown ball in space; a planet covered by deserts with the one last remaining forest kept alive by shielded biodomes and the endless efforts of the Maglev Clans of Panpocro in what used to be the continent of South America.
Naturally, being reduced to a desert planet with no plants, algae, or cyanobacteria to produce oxygen, water had an entirely new value.
Spacecraft in the early 2000s, before oxygen producing hydroponics cultures were invented, used water as a source of oxygen via electrolysis; the process of splitting H2O into hydrogen and oxygen gas with electricity. This same method was how humanity secured the oxygen they needed to breathe on Terra. Toxic water was drawn up through wells and filtered for heavy metals before being electrolysed into breathable oxygen while the tritium gas was used as fuel for the surviving nuclear fusion reactors on Terra.
The drinking water for humanity and their agriculture was recovered from their own recycled excreta, while some larger city-states and mobile water seller caravans retained the archeotech to properly detoxify the well water from underground.
"All life starts from the seas. I may use a lot of plant-like creations and symbolism, but that is mostly because their self-sacrificial biology is a reflection of my nature and personality. However, it is the creatures within the waters that answer my call first."
"Do you have to follow that order?" Neoth asked. It would be far more convenient for him if she could start with something more accessible to humanity, such as the plants and animals that still remained on the surface.
"Just because my miracle is the rebirth of a planet does not mean I can complete the process however I want." Isha replied, hands on hips. "Without the appropriate steps the entire miracle becomes meaningless. Anyways, my reserves are completely depleted, so it's a moot point anyways."
Neoth sighed again.
She knew how difficult it would be to rejuvenate Terra on its own, so she had originally planned to delay it until after the Imperium had expanded to several other worlds so they could replace the resources humanity had spent. Even then, the best the Protector of Humanity could envision was to repair the Orbital Plates of Terra. These ancient floating continents sized constructs were created during the Dark Age of Technology and now lay buried under the deserts of Tera.
Still, it was frustrating to have a goddess capable of terraforming on such a wide scale, and yet be told that she was entirely useless for the endeavor.
"Remind me why I don't just throw you off my ship and leave you behind?" Neoth grumbled as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Because it would be far safer for you to have me in hand's reach than with my children." Isha replied, matter of factly.
"Noted." The Goddess of Heroes muttered as she returned to the data pad and scrolled to the next item.
"You didn't make any mention of the devices I suggested." Isha pouted.
"You mean the device made from Wraithbone that would require at least 10 Zeta class Psykers to operate?" Neoth replied with a dour look. "The device that uses the soul of one of your more experienced psykers to control a miniature blackhole as a gravitational centrifuge?"
"Yes, that one."
"Besides being made out of Wraithbone." Neoth snorted irritably. "It is far too dangerous to handle for humans. One mistake, and the entire device ends up becoming a bomb."
"This is how my children would have done things, and it's 100% safe in their hands. Surely you can take some inspiration from it?"
"This contraption is so far past the current psychic and technological level of humanity that it's completely useless." Neoth huffed, rubbing her temples. "My species don't have the psykers, the technology, or the processing power to replicate the means to manufacture, operate, or safely control this. I wanted a shovel, but you've given me the blueprints for an electric jackhammer while I'm stranded on a deserted island."
"I didn't tell you to copy it as is!" Isha yelped. "I'm not expecting humanity to mimic the progress my children made over tens of millions of years. It's just a suggestion. Besides, I thought you felt pride in your species and their ability to improvise, adapt, and overcome."
Neoth looked down at the Aeldari goddess for a brief moment, then returned to the data pad.
"... Moving on."
"Hey!"
—----------------------------------------
Several hours later, Neoth was returned to his male form while Isha sulked in the alcove above.
In the end, most of Isha's suggestions and solutions were either too dependent on psykers, Wraithbone, or required processing powers that were beyond human cogitators and mental arithmetic.
"You really aren't good at working with others, aren't you?" He called up to the goddess.
"Oh be quiet." She sniffed. "My family and I are all specialists in what we do. We focus our skills on a single area of expertise. Working with others is unnecessary if the process is all self-contained. The last time I had to work with someone was with Vaul and Kurnous over 50,000 years ago. I'm out of practice."
"You do know that's only about a month ago if you were a 100 year old human, right?" Neoth yelled back. "I don't think deities suffer from senility."
"Iyalith regaen, ual Mon-keigh!"
(Jump upside down, you Mon-keigh! Translation: Get lost!)
The Master of Mankind sighed at the Aeldari insult, but smirked soon afterwards; satisfied with the petty victory. His minor moment of gloating was interrupted by the beeping of his communicator. Lifting the device to his ear with telekinesis, the Emperor answered the call from Lysander.
"My Lord, we have reboarded the Bucephelus, and the fleet is ready to return to Terra." The Commodore reported. "We only need your permission to begin Warp transit."
"Good." The Master of Mankind nodded. "Have the fleet activate their Warp drives. I will guide us back directly to Terra."
"As you will, my Lord."
Nothing happened directly within the psychically shielded Astropathic Choir, but Neoth could hear the crackle of the Warp drives as they tore open the veil and feel the spreading chill of the Warp throughout the rest of the ship.
Drawing deep within himself, the Protector of Humanity cast his touch through the void and into all the swirling portals. The smoky tendrils of the Warp burned and boiled away, as the writhing currents was cauterized into glowing golden tunnel.
"You may begin, Commodore." Neoth replied through the communicator.
"Understood, my Lord."
One by one, the ships dove into their respective tunnels, leaving the edge of the Aeldari empire for home.
A/N2: There are some terms that may require defining for this section.
Tritium: A radioactive isotope of hydrogen. It is formed when water is exposed to nuclear fallout or as a byproduct of nuclear fission reactors. It is physically heavier than normal hydrogen, and water made from tritium is called 'heavy water'. The added weight literally slows down the chemical reactions in your body, so drinking too much of it will kill you even without the radiation.
♪1 日向:re - Sunlit: re - Tsukihime 月姫 Remake OST
♪2 18 - Time Together (Right click, and select "Loop")
—----------------------------------------
After several days with the alien deity named Isha, I have learned a number of novel things about Aeldari culture and thinking. They are a proud race to the point of near ridiculousness, but their usage of psychic abilities seem to stretch into their daily lives even further than I first expected.
Another thing I can conclude is that the goddess is surprisingly useless.
Emperor's log Number 10950000
—----------------------------------------
♪1
Neoth sat down with a sigh on the steps of an empty Astropathic choir pedestal; the raised platform where the psykers tasked to serve as FTL communicators would stand.
The bundle of chains that was Isha shook once, before splitting apart as the Aeldari goddess flexed her arms, stretching them above her head.
They were both in the empty chamber of the battleship Artax, which was one of the most psychically shielded places in the entire vessel.
As for why the two gods were here instead of the Bucephelus…
—----------------------------------------
"My Lord… it is good to see you have returned to us." Lysander turned away from the holomap he was looking over with some of the commissioned officers of the Bucephelus, and Captain Velor as the Emperor emerged onto the bridge of the Artax. Cold sweat drenched the Commodore, and ran off his brow in large droplets even as he saluted the Master of Mankind.
Most of the crew were in a similar state of disarray, having just barely survived the psychic Exterminatus that was Isha a few minutes before. The hands made of molten magma were only a few hundred meters away, and were approaching from every direction possible before they started receding. He could see several of the bridge crews' knees were still trembling..
His miracle may have given them the strength to stand firm, but now that it had ended and the adrenaline had started to run out of their system confusion and panic was beginning to grow within them.
"At ease." Neoth said as he gave a short salute to the various operators and officers who had begun to stand to attention in order to salute him.
He had already given the psychic order to stand down and decrease the threat level of the fleet while he had been wrapping Isha in chains. That meant the fleet was no longer in a combat situation, so military regulation dictated that the bridge crew should salute the most senior officer when they appeared. However, Neoth would prefer it if they didn't look towards him at the moment. Nobody seemed to notice the bundle of chains on his shoulder so far, and it would be a lot easier for him if they remained distracted.
The crew turned back to their terminals and returned to their stations, but he could see most were still trying to look at him and Lysander out of the corner of their eye while keeping both ears open to pick-up anything that might be said between the two of them.
"Would it be possible to have an explanation of the situation, My Lord?" Lysander asked as he stepped closer to the Emperor, dropping his voice to a whisper.
Neoth saw several ears and necks twitch, including those that belonged to Captain Velor, straining to hear the answer.
The people here were mostly the crew of the Artax, and were unaware of Isha's presence. The only one here who knew of her in any detail was Lysander, and even then it was as the 'Catumen' of the Aeldari.
Now, how was he going to explain away all their fears without telling them the truth?
"A Xenos artifact found by the Tech Priests on the previous planet we visited activated itself. I jettisoned it off of the Bucephelus, and deactivated it."
The Emperor's answer: Blame someone else.
Even tens of thousands of years in the future, politics is still a mudslinging blame game.
The timeline of events matched, and the scapegoated Xeno Biologis were all mind-dead; unable to retort or defend themselves. Additionally, it reinforced his previous teachings of the dangers of Xeno technology, while assuring them all that he was the only one who could safely handle it.
"I… see." Lysander replied.
The Commodore knew that was not the entire truth, but he was also aware of the others around them. The Emperor's statement also told him enough. The 'Catumen' had been dealt with, and that was why the hands made of magma had receded. However…
"And the device?" The Commodore asked as he shot a brief look at the bundle of golden chains on the Emperor's shoulder. A bundle that was about as long as the 'Catumen' had been tall.
The Emperor walked around Lysander while making sure to keep the pointy ears and golden hair sticking out of the top of the bundle hidden behind his back.
"I have it here, and I am taking it back to Terra."
There was a rather audible silence on the bridge, but the unspoken question of 'Are you serious?!' was unanimously voiced internally by all who were within earshot.
Of course, being the most powerful psyker of all humanity, Neoth heard their thoughts loud and clear.
However, being the biggest tyrant in human history, he ignored all of them.
"It is a terraforming device of impressive scale, as you saw." Neoth remarked nonchalantly, as he silently summoned the Custodes on the bridge to stand behind him. "Although dangerous, it has its uses."
There was another moment of silence. The Emperor's tone was the same as if he had just picked up a motorized hedge trimmer from a gardening shop, instead of something that had almost destroyed the entire fleet.
The Commodores opened his mouth again, but closed it as he saw the Emperor smile; a very arrogant all-knowing smile that was full of aplomb.
Lysander knew what his lord was doing. He had seen similar acts put on by the various nobilities or equivalents on Terra.
One of the most important traits of a politician is confidence. Nobody wants to follow a leader that is unsure of themselves. The Emperor was expressing this aspect to the utmost, effectively bulldozing any doubts placed before him by pretending there was nothing to be worried about in the first place.
"I see." Lysander replied. He knew the Emperor was lying through omission, but his shaken wits had recovered enough to realize that now was not the time to share the knowledge of the Catumen's existence with the rest of the fleet. Besides, it was always best to nod and accept what the Master of Mankind said while he was smiling.
"Shall we begin returning to the Bucephelus?" He enquired instead.
"Yes, begin the re-embarkation." The Emperor nodded, and Lysander began to salute the Emperor to acknowledge the order, only to stop mid-way at the next sentence. "I will remain on the Artax with the device. Vacate the Astropathic choir. I will need it to contact Terra directly so the necessary arrangements can be made. Notify me when the fleet is ready to begin Warp travel."
Lysander caught Captain Velor swiveling his head in their direction out of the corner of his eye with a look of pure dread. The Commodore could understand the feeling. He would have not enjoyed the thought of having a device that could destroy an entire planet on his ship either.
The very fact that the Emperor was not taking it back to the Bucephelus hinted that there was a non-zero chance that whatever had happened on the planet could happen again. It was also quite obvious to everyone that, although the Artax was important, it was less valuable than the Bucephelus. The only thing that prevented a panic was that the Emperor would remain on board with it as well.
Unfortunately, that was probably the second reason why the Captain's face was filled with dread. Although it was a great honor to have the Emperor on board, practically speaking it was a nightmare for the commanding officer of any vessel. Most Captains already disliked having a senior officer or a member of the nobility on board. Not only would they have to play host to their guest, they would have to ensure that both themselves and the rest of their crew were on their best behavior. Failure to do so usually risked your career in the Navy.
The Emperor was the sovereign and commander of all the military forces belonging to the Imperium of Man. One wrong step or improper word from anyone could theoretically result in them and the Captain being converted into servitors.
'Well, it's not as bad as most people fear.' Lysander thought to himself, having traveled with the Emperor many times already. His Lord was fully capable of letting the occasional faux pas slide, and most humans were usually too awed by his presence to think of being rude to him.
"As you wish, my Lord." Lysander saluted before turning towards the Captain who now had a very strained smile plastered on his face. "Vacate the Astropathic Choir, Captain. I will be borrowing your Vox officer to prepare the fleet's return home."
"Yes, Sir." Captain Velor saluted, finally regaining control of his expressions.
The two military men turned back to the Emperor, only to see him already leaving the bridge with his Custodes directly behind him.
"Do not bother with an escort, Captain Velor. I will walk to the Astropathic Choir myself. Just see that it is vacated before I get there."
"As you will, my Lord." The Captain saluted the Emperor's back as both him and his Custodes disappeared behind the door.
Lysander sighed to himself. He had no idea what had happened on the planet below, but the Emperor had returned unscarred, unexhausted, and without a blemish upon his armor. Hopefully, that was a sign that the Master of Mankind had dealt with the Catumen easily, or whatever was defined as 'easy' for a being of such enormous power such as him.
'But, that's definitely not a corpse in those chains.' He thought to himself. 'A corpse's ears don't move.'
Just before the Custodes had gotten in position behind the Emperor to hide the portion of chains slung over his back, he saw a pointed ear poking out of the chains flicking like a cat's.
—----------------------------------------
Neoth sighed internally as he stood on the internal three-dimensional elevator that would take them to the deck the Astropathic Choir was on.
He had originally returned to the Bucephelus, but the moment he left the Warp portal every hidden gun turret and security drone activated themselves and pointed their weapons at the bundle of chains that was Isha.
The ship's artificial soul was furious with her, and refused to decrease her threat level. Naturally, as he was trying to make Isha not to appear like a threat, having every internal weapon on the Bucephelus pointed at her at all times was not helping the impression. Even now, he could hear the Bucephelus snorting and grunting irritably as he stroked its partially organic mind, attempting to calm it down.
He could overwrite the ship's mind, wipe its memory, and force it to obey him. However, after having just fought with the entirety of unified humanity at his back, it felt a little too heavy handed to effectively beat the ship into submission after it had served him so loyally.
'A feeling I haven't felt in a long time, to be honest…' He thought to himself.
Until now, there was just the path, the plan, the singular road to salvation for humanity.
Under those circumstances, he felt no hesitation. There was no loyalty; only obedience or destruction.
Now, there were options.
He could take the shortest route, or take a more roundabout one. Both would get him to his destination, and possibly in the same amount of time.
Mind wiping the Bucephelus was the faster path, but convincing the Bucephelus was not the step that took the most time. Physically getting the crew back on board, reorganizing the fleet, and preparing it to return to Terra was the most time consuming. Thus, that was the critical path for the process of returning home. Additionally, there was no reason for him to be on the Bucephelus in the first place. He could guide the fleet back on any of the ships, and the psychically shielded and physically reinforced Astropathic Choir chamber of the Artax would provide enough privacy for him and Isha.
Neoth continued reviewing his other plans with this new mindset as he walked to the Astropathic Choir chamber. The 50 cm thick double doors were left open with a platoon of soldiers standing guard.
He acknowledged their salutes with a nod as he walked past them, and gave a quick glance to the Custodes who had been quite literally covering his back the entire time.
The Custodes gave a chest level salute before turning around and dismissing the soldiers as Neoth shut the double doors with a brief burst of telekinesis. The soldiers would not be needed, and his Custodes would be more than enough to ensure the privacy of the chamber.
Placing Isha on the ground, he sat down with a sigh on the steps of the empty Astropathic choir pedestal and watched Isha emerge from the chains.
"Do you have any shame at all?" The goddess smirked as she stretched her limbs. "Your brazenness was so ridiculous I almost laughed. Holding it in was so hard, I couldn't stop my ears from twitching."
Neoth snorted at her comment. He knew she was referring to the lie he told the crew of the Artax and Lysander.
However, with context from their previous conversations, he knew this was a jest of hers. Eldanesh had told far worse lies and made up far more farcical stories than he had according to her, and she viewed her favored son with pride. Thus, this was just a jibe at him, trying to needle him with his own sense of shame.
The Aeldari had long memories, and conversations often referenced things said in ages past, requiring a fair bit of context to fully understand what was being said. It was as if the entire species shared an internal joke, and viewed anyone who didn't get it with contempt. To be insulted here would be a demonstration of a faulty memory on his part in Aeldari society, and a further point of mockery.
Isha finished stretching as Neoth reviewed this portion of Aeldari culture and looked around the room before jumping up to a curved alcove several meters above the ground, lying back and making herself comfortable like a cat on a windowsill.
"I'd say the same thing to you." Neoth replied dryly as he cast a look at her exposed left leg and thigh from the side of her shift. "How about putting on some underwear?"
Isha wore nothing but a simple shift, which was not much more than a long white sheet with a hole in it for her head. The sides of the fabric wrapped around her unnaturally, as if hidden strings were holding the material closed, hiding most of her sides. However, lying back as she was now, part of her waist and the side of her torso was exposed. There was no evidence of a waist band or wrappings that would have indicated some sort of undergarment around her groin and chest there.
"Why should I?" Isha shrugged. "My children's form is one I take pride in. What shame is there to feel in showing it?"
Neoth snorted at that. She spoke as if explaining the most obvious thing in the world. He knew she preferred her Aeldari form, but to take that much pride in it bordered on narcissism.
"Then why don't you walk around naked?" He countered.
Logically, if she took so much pride in her children's form, then that was the natural conclusion. If she truly felt it was an expression of artistic or naturalistic beauty, then why hide it under any clothing at all? There was no practical purpose for it, for her skin was far tougher than any armor.
"What other reason beside pride could there be?" Isha retorted. "You do not hide a piece of artwork in a gallery out of shame. You keep it there to ensure it is given the proper treatment and appreciation so only those who are worthy can view it. To expose such a thing to all cheapens it."
'Pride. Of course, that's their motivation.' Neoth grumbled to himself as several other previous experiences fit into place.
He had memories of human men and women from the Golden Age of mankind who had tried to romantically or lustfully meddle with the Aeldari. Whether one could call such people fools, explorers, or heroes of a different kind was debatable. However, their romantic attempts were still, in a way, legendary. However, all of those who attempted to either glimpse or strip the Aeldari in order to view their nakedness often ended with a grisly demise. Every time, the main emotion expressed by the Aeldari was a furious anger. He had often thought that it was simply a more extreme version of the same reaction a human man or woman would have if treated in the same way, but that was not the case.
The Aeldari did not take their vengeance out of shame or humiliation, but pure injured pride. Someone who was unworthy had viewed their natural beauty, and had effectively insulted them. Thus, the only emotion they felt in return was rage.
It was an interesting insight into the Aeldari mind. However…
"If you're going to come with me to Terra, I'm going to have to ask you to follow some human customs." Neoth sighed as he reached into a small hand-sized portal behind him. "Having an alien such as yourself walking around in only a shift is problematic for my people. You are beautiful, after all." He said boredly.
"Thank you." Isha snorted. "I've never heard that word uttered with so little interest or emotion."
"It is a material fact, no different than water being wet or dust being dry. To call you anything else would be a blatant lie." Neoth shrugged as he continued to rummage around in the portal before pulling a pair of black sports underwear. "If you need a pair use these." He threw them up to the alcove where Isha sat, where she caught them before stretching them out and inspecting them.
The pair of shorts was clearly too small for Neoth's bulk, and was quite form fitting without the space in the front a male would require; making it obvious that these were for feminine use.
"Well, well." Isha chuckled as she turned the piece of clothing inside and out. "So, who did you steal these from?" She said as she narrowed her eyes at him in mock accusation.
Neoth narrowed his own in return as he growled back. "That pair belongs to me."
"To give to someone, or wear yourself?"
"Idiot." Neoth snorted as his form changed into that of a raven haired woman of equal size in his auramite power armor. "I was a man when I was mortal, but I am no longer male nor female anymore. Of course my clothing would need to change depending on what form I take."
"Calm yourself, I make no judgment." She laughed, twirling the pair of shorts on her finger. "I'm just glad they're not gold like the rest of your attire."
Neoth continued to glare at Isha in her feminine form. The Aeldari goddess was mocking and teasing him on purpose. Whether it was petty revenge for being wrapped up in chains, or some sort of Aeldari attempt to break the ice between them was a mystery to him. However, with nothing better to do as the crew of the Bucephelus returned to the ship, she sighed and joined the goddess in idle chatter.
"Even if you don't wear shorts, surely your daughters would require a brassiere of some sort, especially with all the acrobatics your kind enjoys during combat."
Neoth had spent a number of years as a woman on several occasions, and had memories of all the heroines who had joined her mind. A woman's underwear had a practical function of making sure certain parts didn't flop about during exercise or movement. Some female warriors struggled with this excess baggage that men didn't have to carry, and there were many locker room chats between women about the annoyance of having to wrap everything down or risk a rather unflattering dull throbbing chest pain caused by centripetal force; not to mention the problems with the shift in balance this would cause for the more well endowed members of humanity.
"A logical conclusion." Isha shrugged. "However, our muscles, tendons, and connective tissues are hardier than those in humans. We don't have to worry about things flopping around as much as your kind does in the first place."
'Oh, is that so?' Neoth muttered sarcastically internally. She was getting tired of hearing how much better the Aeldari's body was compared to humans.
"On top of that, most of my children wear Wraithbone based clothing." Isha continued, ignoring the annoyed look Neoth was shooting her with. "It can mold itself according to their psychic commands. Their armor and combat harnesses usually optimize themselves to be the most comfortable. Even this simple shift is made of the same material." She said as she tugged at the edge of the hole where her head stuck out of. "How else do you think it clung to my form during our battle on the planet below?"
'Now that I think about it…' Neoth replayed the entirety of their battle on the planet below. Besides the time they had both been fried to a crisp by lightning, Isha's shift had remained upon her, almost glued to her skin. The Goddess of Heroes hadn't had time to notice that oddity, but now that she thought about it, Isha's clothing defied physics. Even when she landed from a jump or retreated from a lunge, the lower edges of her clothing had moved against gravity, air resistance, and inertia in order to keep the goddess's nethers covered.
"That sounds useful." From a purely practical perspective, Neoth could admit she wouldn't mind clothing like that.
"Of course it is." Isha said as she puffed out her chest. "But, I don't think it would suit you."
Neoth narrowed her eyes at that. "Why not?" If the alien goddess was going to make a comment about her size, style, or choice of color, she had a few choice insults to hurl back at her.
"Do you use your psychic abilities like you do the Vellus hairs on your skin?" Isha asked as she rubbed her forearm. "Can you control your power like you control your pores or intestinal glands? If the answer is no, then this clothing would be no different from ordinary cloth."
Vellus hairs were the near invisible hairs that stood up with goosebumps. Pores and intestinal glands were both controlled by automated nerves that responded to reflexes. In other words, Isha was claiming that the Aeldari used their psyker abilities with the same control a human had over their involuntary autonomic nervous system. i.e. With no control at all, but instinctual harmony.
"You use your psyker abilities for something as trivial as that?" She said with one raised eyebrow.
Psykers were some of the more empowered members of the human race, and could destroy armies with their minds. To use the gifts that could tear open holes in reality to control clothing seemed ridiculous.
"It's not like we have a choice. Our gifts are part of us, and there is no changing that. Regardless…" She paused, touching the thin white Wraithbone shift upon her, bringing them back to the original topic of her attire. "My scantily clad appearance before you is not just an admission of your worth, but also a display of how far the Aeldari have fallen. Our racial pride is not worth much now."
'Oh, really?' Neoth thought to herself. If this was Isha's attempt at humility, the message was lost in translation.
"I guess I should feel fortunate to be able to gaze upon the goddess's toes." She retorted sarcastically.
Isha laughed in response.
"These feet have alighted upon a million worlds, traveled the galaxy from rim to rim, and waded through the deepest currents of the immaterium. They have more worth than your tone suggests."
Neoth sighed. She had been expecting that reply. After all, that would have been something she would have said herself.
'I wonder if this is what it feels to be on the receiving end of one of my speeches.'
Arrogant. Stubborn. Overconfident. If there were a consistent set of character flaws used to describe the Emperor, it would be those.
"You seem rather relaxed." Neonth said, changing the subject. "Do you have time for idle chatter?"
"Time has no meaning within the immaterium." Isha shrugged. "That is both a curse, and a boon at this moment. Anything I do is too late, but being too late means that there is no point in rushing ahead. Better to bide my time and ensure we can achieve our goals."
There was a rustling of leaves and branches, and a single vine tipped with a pink-purple bud appeared from behind her. Isha touched the bud gently, and Neoth saw the thing inside wriggle slightly.
"And do not worry about my children. I can talk with you while making my own preparations. I was once connected to every world of my children's empire; the biospheres of a million planets were monitored and managed by my mind. I am used to multi-tasking."
The flowerbud receded back into Isha.
'A single miracle, and perhaps a few other minor blessings.' That was how much power Isha said she had. Her miracle had been activated, and she was using up the rest of her reserves to assist the surviving twins that she had remained attached to.
Neoth frowned at that.
"Even so, you seem to be enjoying yourself too much." She huffed.
Isha's display of making herself vulnerable like this unnerved her. They may have agreed to work together for the immediate future, but depending on the circumstances even the staunchest alliances could be quickly broken. The Empress would never be able to disarm herself in the way Isha was doing now.
"There is no point submerging myself in misery. Better to walk forwards with a laugh and a smile." The goddess laughed sadly as she curled up in the alcove. "Besides, sorrow and suffering are the beginning of my miracle. Steeping myself in them too long would be dangerous for me and for you."
'That would be problematic.' Neoth thought to herself as she rubbed her temples. She may have survived Isha's miracle once, but it had been close. Additionally, with her shield currently out of commission and reforming, she lacked one of the key tools necessary to push through the endless onslaught of natural disasters.
"Enough of this banter." She said as she stood up from the steps of the Astropathic choir pedestal. "Let's talk about more constructive things." Neoth reached into another portal and pulled out a data pad. "I have a list of things I thought you could help me with, and I'd like to go through it with you."
"Fine." Isha said as she jumped down from alcove, slipping into the pair of shorts Neoth had given her as she fell. Her shift hid her hands and nethers while she put them on as she dropped downwards, disobeying the air resistance that should have lifted the hem upwards. "Depleted I may be, but the problems of mortal man should be easy enough to deal with my 60 million years worth of wisdom."
—----------------------------------------
♪2
"..." Neoth remained silent as she crossed out another item on her list.
"..." Isha remained silent, turned away from the Goddess of Heroes with crossed arms.
"And that's the end of my list." Neoth spoke as she looked up from her data pad. "What was that about problems and wisdom you were mouthing off earlier?"
Isha's ears twitched, but she refused to turn back towards Neoth.
The Goddess of Heroes took the moment of silence to smirk. "At the very least, it is refreshing to see prayer is about as useful as it always is."
Prayers are the requests made to gods, and the requests Neoth made to Isha all came back with useless answers. As the deity who believed gods were useless, it was a refreshing reaffirmation of Neoth's beliefs.
"Problem solving takes time." Isha replied sulkily. "I gave you the answer that immediately came to mind. It is not my fault that you find them disagreeable."
"Alright, let's go over the main ones again." Neoth scrolled back to the top of the list. "Your first answer regarding assisting me with the Space Marine was to restore their reproductive functions."
"They are flawed as a life form." Isha snorted. "As they are now, they are not much more than surgically modified humans parasitized by the Progenoid gland. The first improvement would be to allow them to reproduce naturally, and grow their population so evolution can improve and adapt them over time."
"I am not doing that." Neoth retorted irritably. "The Space Marines must be born from humanity, and be their exemplar. However, they cannot be their replacement. They are to be the heroes of humanity, not their usurpers. It is not my goal to create a new race of hyper muscled Ubermensch to replace humanity."
"Says the oversized hulk in golden armor." Isha muttered with a pout.
"I am going to pretend I didn't hear that." Neoth replied with a smile, and Isha remained silent as the Goddess of Heroes looked back down at the data pad. "Besides, your other suggestions to improve them weren't much better. What is this thing with a scorpion tail, extra arms, claws, fangs, and insectile wings? It barely looks humanoid."
"I thought you didn't mind including animal traits into your warriors." The goddess snarked as she shot him an annoyed look over her shoulder.
Some of the Space Marines did have certain animalistic traits like wings, horns, and wolfish features. However…
"This is going too far." Neoth sighed as she rubbed her temples. "It looks more like a Chaos spawn than a soldier."
"I like it. It reminds me of the Warp spiders back home. Besides, look at how the spine and back muscles curve to rebalance the tail, as well as the way the increased number of shoulder blades and collar bones bulk out the chest. Thematically, it is a good mix of physical features between our two races."
"Gigeresque is how I would describe it, and I'm not making this. It's horrifying."
"Fine then." Isha huffed. "I'll take your criticisms into consideration and come up with something else."
'I'm not sure I want to see what comes next.' Neoth thought to herself. Their aesthetic tastes differed in more ways than one.
"In the first place, don't you think it cruel to convert them into such an abomination?" Neoth said as he turned the data pad towards Isha with the tentative image her suggested genetic modifications would have produced. "Besides their appearance, it would be a nightmare to carry out day to day tasks with this body; especially the tail."
"Leaving aside the point of whether you would call them abominations or not…" Isha replied irritably. "I don't think it's a major issue. The body shapes the soul, but in the end it is just a container. If their changed form is too difficult to bear, then a different one can be prepared."
Neoth took a moment to mull things over in her mind. For Isha, this abomination was meant to be a choice. It would be up to the individual whether they wanted to remain as it or not.
"Like the reincarnation process of the Aeldari."
"Exactly." Isha nodded. "Some of my children modified their bodies for combat. That fact should be obvious after seeing the Psychomatons. They didn't gain control of all 6 arms instantaneously. It took many lifetimes to grow used to them, gradually going from 1 pair to 2 and 3. The few who were able to take off their War mask before becoming Psychomatons began the process of returning to a calmer life by reverting to a body less associated with combat."
'Hmm, I see.' Neoth thought to herself as something clicked together.
Isha, and by extrapolation the Aeldari, didn't view their bodies to be intrinsically part of them the same way humans did. In a sense, their physical form was just housing for their true self; their soul. The pride they felt in their bodies was akin to the pride one took in one's favorite vehicle. Thus, they enjoyed and coveted their body's beauty, for it truly was a piece of art to them in a way only the most perverse humans viewed their own skin, flesh, and bone.
"Could the process be used to transfer a soul from an older body to a younger one?" An idea had begun to form in Neoth's mind.
"Of course. That is how the process functions naturally." Isha nodded as she turned back towards the Empress. "I see. You want to expand the age of recruitment for your legions. The biological process of transformation is more expensive when using an already developed body, but a cloned younger body with the same soul would allow you to take older humans and transform them into your super soldiers without much difficulty."
Logically, the effort required to transfer a soul from one body to another would usually dwarf the effort surgically modifying an adult to become a lesser version of a Space Marine. However, with a deity who knew the intricacies of the process, the hurdles and experimentation necessary were greatly reduced.
"Using children has its advantages. The psychological indoctrination and mental hardening to ensure their loyalty to the cause of humanity are easier to instill in a mind with less prejudices and preconceptions." Neoth recited his other reasons for using children to form his legions. "However, even though a more experienced soul may be less obedient, it could be more efficient. Each legion is meant to be an expert in a certain style of war. However, as they are, the children who are transformed into my Space Marines run the risk of mental stagnation and over reliance on singular strategies due to their training. Repetition nurtures expertise, but over specialization can become a hindrance."
"An interesting conclusion, and one with precedent." Isha nodded. "The Battle of Midway was won in part due to the disobedience and disorganization of several pilots who did what they thought was best from their personal combat experience. Likewise, a Space Marine created from a reincarnated soldier who chooses to serve may bring a greater breadth of experience that a well trained child soldier could not. Of course, it will take longer for them to get used to their new body, unlike the children who grow into it as if it were their own."
"There are positives and negatives with using both." Neoth shrugged. "At the very least, it is another option for recruitment."
"Fine. I can teach you how Aeldari bodies call back my children's souls from the Othersea." The Aeldari goddess said with a nod, then glared at the Emperess. "Your Malcador has already proven that the process can work for mortal species other than my children."
Neoth frowned at the sudden hostility emitted from Isha, then grimaced as she deduced who the goddess was referring to.
"Ael Wyntor, the Aeldari-human hybrid made by Malcador."
"He has a limited ability to reincarnate, although it requires Malcador's psychic abilities and the body of one of my sons you found in the Webway." Isha sighed, closing her eyes and withdrawing the hostile aura she was projecting. "His existence proves that the process of reincarnation is not impossible for non-Aeldari."
Neoth sighed internally as she remembered what Malcador's 'friend' was being used for.
"Will you want them back?" She asked, referring to both the corpse of the Aeldari and Ael Wyntor himself.
"He isn't Aeldari, but I will be taking him and the corpse of my child from Malcador." Isha nodded. "What the Sigillite does to him is cruel."
'Well, she's not wrong.' The Empress thought to herself.
Malcador created Ael Wyntor from the remains of an Aeldari male recovered during their earliest explorations into the Webway. Using gene tech from the Dark Age of Technology, a half Aeldari-human hybrid was created. The Sigillite befriended his hybrid creation, but although that friendship meant Ael Wyntor lived in relative luxury compared to the rest of humanity, that friendship came with a price.
As Malcador's 'friend', Ael Wyntor was given the privilege of chatting with the Sigillite. However, as a 'friend' Ael Wyntor would also have to listen to the occasional secret the Sigillite 'confessed'.
After listening to those secrets, Ael Wyntor would eventually commit suicide.
Malcador spared no expense describing what exactly he did in the past, and the results of his actions. The mental anguish and trauma from listening to Malcador's confessions always drove Ael Wyntor into depression, and then to death. However, death was never the end for the Aeldari-human hybrid. Malcador would clone his body, recover his soul from the immaterium, erase his memories, and 'befriend' this 'lucky' civilian only to use him as an emotional punching bag all over again.
"I did not care what Malcador did to relax. Ael Wyntor is not human, after all." Neoth sighed. "But, if you want him, you can have him and the remains. In exchange, I will need your expertise externalizing the process so the organic process of the Aeldari can be replicated with machinery for humans. You won't be letting me dissect Ael Wyntor to figure out how his reincarnation functions, so I'll need that much in return at the very least."
Converting all of humanity or even all Space Marine recruits into Aeldari-human hybrids was unrealistic and undesirable. Ael Wyntor seemed to be safe from Slaanesh, but there was no guarantee that disinterest would continue. The process for transferring souls would have to be a mechanical one.
"Fine. I may not have Vaul's talents, but I can tell you whether you are getting closer or further from your goal."
"That is good enough."
Neoth looked back down at his list of other items Isha had failed to provide adequate solutions for.
There was some progress with the Space Marines after rediscussing them with Isha, but her answers to the rest were even worse than her scorpion tailed suggestion for the Space Marines.
"Although I admit I did not have high hopes, fixing Terra while keeping the population and infrastructure as they are is impossible for you, isn't it?"
"You know how my miracle works. You can have either Terra reformatted, or the existing infrastructure and population, but the two outcomes are mutually exclusive." Isha sighed. "Quite frankly, I haven't seen a planet this badly mistreated since the War in Heaven. Even if I had the reserves to do so, the best I can do is to allow it to support a post-industrial society on its own once more. However, the planet lacks the metals and minerals to support an expansionary space travel capable civilization. You humans have depleted it of almost everything. Even if I reformatted the planet, the only materials that would be reused would be the ones that are already part of the hive cities and factories your kind inhabit. My children would be able to overcome this deficiency with Wraithbone, but your kind is reliant on material resources. Unless you also want to add mass to the planet through several decades worth of meteorite impacts, Terra's depleted state is permanent."
"That's about as much as I expected…" The Goddess of Heroes sighed. "But isn't there anything you can do?"
"Not without further study on the ground. The information you have on hand regarding Terra is limited." The goddess shrugged. "I could create life that could survive on that planet, but that would be life adapted to Terra as it is now. It would be every bit as alien as me to humanity."
Neoth raised an eyebrow at that. "What sort of life?" Terra had enough biological monstrosities running around.
"Mostly simple microorganisms, fungi-like life forms, and symbiotic creatures that form lichen colonies. The heavy metal and radiation poisoning in the water will stunt the development of any life that remotely resembles what evolved on Terra originally. I would have to start with aquatic life forms that would purify the planet's water supply before moving on to anything else."
"You would start within the underground aquifers?" Neoth's voice was tinged with surprise. "They're the most dangerous of all Terra's environments."
Terra was a depleted world. It was the birthplace of humanity, but being the first stepping stone to the stars, it was the one that got trodden on the most. All the ships and construction equipment to create prefabricated constructs for terraforming other worlds were taken from Terra's soil. Every ship that left and never came back was a permanent loss to the planet. The only thing that kept it habitable was the constant influx of materials it reaped after its successful colonization efforts began to reap their rewards as the human federation spread across the stars.
All of that ended with the coming of Old Night, and the end of the Golden Age of humanity.
Depleted Terra, cut off from its colonies and supply lines, descended into civil war.
Nuclear weapons carpet bombed continents, and seismic weaponry was deployed using subterranean shockwaves to shatter the buried bunkers belonging to the various warring factions of humanity. Eventually, Terra's crust cracked open, and the oceans began to pour into the massive underground hive complexes, bunkers, and ancient strip mines underneath the crust. Years worth of nuclear fallout and the polluted remains of the mines dissolved into the oceans of Terra as they drained away, turning them into underground aquifers filled to the brim with a toxic soup of radiation, heavy metals, and organic solvents.
The once blue-green Terra was now a brown ball in space; a planet covered by deserts with the one last remaining forest kept alive by shielded biodomes and the endless efforts of the Maglev Clans of Panpocro in what used to be the continent of South America.
Naturally, being reduced to a desert planet with no plants, algae, or cyanobacteria to produce oxygen, water had an entirely new value.
Spacecraft in the early 2000s, before oxygen producing hydroponics cultures were invented, used water as a source of oxygen via electrolysis; the process of splitting H2O into hydrogen and oxygen gas with electricity. This same method was how humanity secured the oxygen they needed to breathe on Terra. Toxic water was drawn up through wells and filtered for heavy metals before being electrolysed into breathable oxygen while the tritium gas was used as fuel for the surviving nuclear fusion reactors on Terra.
The drinking water for humanity and their agriculture was recovered from their own recycled excreta, while some larger city-states and mobile water seller caravans retained the archeotech to properly detoxify the well water from underground.
"All life starts from the seas. I may use a lot of plant-like creations and symbolism, but that is mostly because their self-sacrificial biology is a reflection of my nature and personality. However, it is the creatures within the waters that answer my call first."
"Do you have to follow that order?" Neoth asked. It would be far more convenient for him if she could start with something more accessible to humanity, such as the plants and animals that still remained on the surface.
"Just because my miracle is the rebirth of a planet does not mean I can complete the process however I want." Isha replied, hands on hips. "Without the appropriate steps the entire miracle becomes meaningless. Anyways, my reserves are completely depleted, so it's a moot point anyways."
Neoth sighed again.
She knew how difficult it would be to rejuvenate Terra on its own, so she had originally planned to delay it until after the Imperium had expanded to several other worlds so they could replace the resources humanity had spent. Even then, the best the Protector of Humanity could envision was to repair the Orbital Plates of Terra. These ancient floating continents sized constructs were created during the Dark Age of Technology and now lay buried under the deserts of Tera.
Still, it was frustrating to have a goddess capable of terraforming on such a wide scale, and yet be told that she was entirely useless for the endeavor.
"Remind me why I don't just throw you off my ship and leave you behind?" Neoth grumbled as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Because it would be far safer for you to have me in hand's reach than with my children." Isha replied, matter of factly.
"Noted." The Goddess of Heroes muttered as she returned to the data pad and scrolled to the next item.
"You didn't make any mention of the devices I suggested." Isha pouted.
"You mean the device made from Wraithbone that would require at least 10 Zeta class Psykers to operate?" Neoth replied with a dour look. "The device that uses the soul of one of your more experienced psykers to control a miniature blackhole as a gravitational centrifuge?"
"Yes, that one."
"Besides being made out of Wraithbone." Neoth snorted irritably. "It is far too dangerous to handle for humans. One mistake, and the entire device ends up becoming a bomb."
"This is how my children would have done things, and it's 100% safe in their hands. Surely you can take some inspiration from it?"
"This contraption is so far past the current psychic and technological level of humanity that it's completely useless." Neoth huffed, rubbing her temples. "My species don't have the psykers, the technology, or the processing power to replicate the means to manufacture, operate, or safely control this. I wanted a shovel, but you've given me the blueprints for an electric jackhammer while I'm stranded on a deserted island."
"I didn't tell you to copy it as is!" Isha yelped. "I'm not expecting humanity to mimic the progress my children made over tens of millions of years. It's just a suggestion. Besides, I thought you felt pride in your species and their ability to improvise, adapt, and overcome."
Neoth looked down at the Aeldari goddess for a brief moment, then returned to the data pad.
"... Moving on."
"Hey!"
—----------------------------------------
Several hours later, Neoth was returned to his male form while Isha sulked in the alcove above.
In the end, most of Isha's suggestions and solutions were either too dependent on psykers, Wraithbone, or required processing powers that were beyond human cogitators and mental arithmetic.
"You really aren't good at working with others, aren't you?" He called up to the goddess.
"Oh be quiet." She sniffed. "My family and I are all specialists in what we do. We focus our skills on a single area of expertise. Working with others is unnecessary if the process is all self-contained. The last time I had to work with someone was with Vaul and Kurnous over 50,000 years ago. I'm out of practice."
"You do know that's only about a month ago if you were a 100 year old human, right?" Neoth yelled back. "I don't think deities suffer from senility."
"Iyalith regaen, ual Mon-keigh!"
(Jump upside down, you Mon-keigh! Translation: Get lost!)
The Master of Mankind sighed at the Aeldari insult, but smirked soon afterwards; satisfied with the petty victory. His minor moment of gloating was interrupted by the beeping of his communicator. Lifting the device to his ear with telekinesis, the Emperor answered the call from Lysander.
"My Lord, we have reboarded the Bucephelus, and the fleet is ready to return to Terra." The Commodore reported. "We only need your permission to begin Warp transit."
"Good." The Master of Mankind nodded. "Have the fleet activate their Warp drives. I will guide us back directly to Terra."
"As you will, my Lord."
Nothing happened directly within the psychically shielded Astropathic Choir, but Neoth could hear the crackle of the Warp drives as they tore open the veil and feel the spreading chill of the Warp throughout the rest of the ship.
Drawing deep within himself, the Protector of Humanity cast his touch through the void and into all the swirling portals. The smoky tendrils of the Warp burned and boiled away, as the writhing currents was cauterized into glowing golden tunnel.
"You may begin, Commodore." Neoth replied through the communicator.
"Understood, my Lord."
One by one, the ships dove into their respective tunnels, leaving the edge of the Aeldari empire for home.