626M03 Exodites
Plasma Regulators
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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626 M03
Ah phooey. Another Eldar world nearby. Mark it on the map, I guess. At least they were easy to detect from hundreds of lightyears away, thanks to their psychic presence. Which, rather than hiding, they actively flaunted.
While I certainly had no problems throwing a few Petatons away on a whim, if the Eldar warmachine at the height of its power noticed humanity, it would be bad news for the humans.
Actually… getting some bearings on this particular planet… it was only forty-seven lightyears away? That didn't make any sense. Of the hundreds of Eldar worlds I've detected and mapped, all of them were giant beacons of psychic energy. Running through the statistics momentarily negated the idea that I just missed smaller colonies due to their lower presence making them harder to detect. I still should have found dozens by now if they were a regular occurrence. Eldar didn't really do smaller colonies, and they certainly didn't found new colonies, other than the Exodites-
Ah. I think I've answered my own question.
Exodites were odd ducks. The Eldar equivalent of a modern human decrying technology and going to live as a monk at a hermitage. They did so in roughly equivalent percentages of the total population of ascetic monks among humans. The difference in populations, however, meant that there were entire worlds populated by Exodites, albeit sparsely. They were on track to be the only group to consistently survive the fall of the Eldar in a bit less than thirty thousand years. This was primarily thanks to their philosophy; one of self-denial and hard work in direct opposition to the open lustful decadence of the majority of the Eldar population. This abstention saved them from the hungers of Slaanesh, at least during the birth of that entity that spelled the death of the rest of their civilization.
As stuck-up, self-righteous, dismissive aliens go, these guys were not bad. I would even go so far as to say that they were actually worth saving, unlike those who followed the philosophy of the majority of the Eldar.
Now I just needed to decide how to play this.
Actually…
"Hey Big E! I found some Exodites."
I got an amused sense of interest back. "Did you now. Well, what were you planning on doing with them?"
"Well, I don't have any firm plans, so chime in if you have a better idea, but here's what I was thinking-"
639 M03
Menekas was watching the herds, eyes and mind sharp for predators, when he spotted an unusual biped walking calmly in his direction, ignoring their pack-lizards. While the three meter tall animal was obviously a predator of some sort, it was not one that he recognized, which should be impossible given their tribe's meticulous surveys of the planet over the past four hundred years.
A suspicion struck him. It would be just like those disgusting Drukhari to bring an alpha-predator to an Exodite world just to watch as it slaughtered its way through the 'primitives' below while memorizing the events to sell the memprint to others.
The Drukhari were stupid in their corruption though. They seemed to forget that the 'primitives' were yet Aeldari, and rather than letting their natural gifts atrophy, they were sharpened to a wraithblade's edge by living a life of denial and refutation of the excesses that plagued their disgusting cousins.
Even as he limbered his joints for coming combat, Menekas picked a pebble off the stony grazing grounds and fit it to his sling. Twice, his sling revolved, before loosing the stone with the whip-crack of a broken sound barrier. As he expected, the alpha-predator barely reacted as the stone splashed off its carapace, turned to powder from the speed it had been traveling at. The speed at which its eyes had tracked the projectile let him know that it had reflexes comparable to his own. With a few mental simulations of the possible outcomes, he reached out to his kin. It would not do to have them be unprepared even in the unlikely event of his demise.
When he could feel the minds of his entire tribe, he spoke. "Brothers and Sisters. Turn your gaze to me. I would do combat against a predator I do not recognize, and I suspect Drukhari trickery as its provenance."
Their tribe's Farseer spoke, after a moment of intense thought. "I cannot sense any other Aeldari minds nearby, but a careful inspection reveals a great diffusion of psychic energies large enough to raise the background levels a detectable amount. Perhaps they have developed some technology that can hide their presence amidst an appearance of greatness. It would fit their kind."
"To combat then." Menekas drew his wrathbone skinning knife. It was no Wraithblade sword, but it would suffice.
"Before you decide to fight to the death, I figured we should talk." A psychic voice came from the predator- no. From the being in front of him.
"Stop where you are or I shall strike you down, stranger. What is it you seek from the Aeldari people?"
"Ha! Fair enough. I was actually planning on doing you a favor. I have information that you might find interesting." The mind chuckled and spoke with a mirthful presence, as if to mock him.
"You presume to have information unknown to us? Very well, I shall allow you to speak." Menekas restrained his anger as only an Exodite would even bother to do. None of their so-called kin would ever entertain the notion, but the Exodites were more familiar than anyone in the galaxy with knowing crucial information that others would refuse to even hear. It would insult their way of living to not extend at least a symbolic offer to an outsider, despite their lack of deference.
"The Aeldari empire will fall in twenty-six thousand five hundred years, give or take a decade, as the warp-cascade of violence, death, and hedonistic excess births a new warp-entity powerful enough to consume the souls of all Aeldari within more than a thousand lightyears of your home system."
Menekas felt a nova-hot flash of anger and barely restrained his impulse to strike the being down where it stood. "You dare! To have heard of the Prophecy of Endings and use it to attempt to deceive us. I can barely conceive of the level of arrogance required-"
"Iroooonic. Nah, I just have access to more information than you do. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." The being continued to give off every appearance of an amused statesman watching a younger colleague make a fool of themselves.
Menekas was nearly rendered speechless. "You presume… to have better knowledge… of the Prophecy of Endings… than our greatest Farseers, and even the GODS THEMSELVES?!"
"YES"
It felt as though the entire psychic might of the entire Aeldari race was pressing down on him. Even when his entire clan attempted to aid him, the being, the presence didn't even seem to notice the difference in strength between one Aeldari and a thousand.
"I DO"
Only a second had passed, but it was like wading through water to even move a muscle, let alone muster thoughts of resisting the pressure. He could feel several of his clan-mates fall unconscious as they struggled against the oppressive presence that seemed to ring louder within each person than their own thoughts, barely leaving enough room for compliance and nothing else.
And then it was gone, in an instant. The release of pressure was so sudden that Menekas found himself falling to the dirt from lightheadedness.
"Now that that's settled, I was hoping for a bit of exchange. I give you some very valuable information about the specifics of the upcoming timeline, which I doubt that even I can knock off it's rails even if I tried, and you agree to spread that information to other Exodites and any other Aeldari you think would actually care that their empire is about to collapse. Oh, and I'd like to keep your wraithbone knife. It looks neat."
Menekas found himself nodding idly. "Oh. Okay."
He gracelessly dropped his knife on the ground from his deathgrip on the handle, and then turned back towards his tribal home. "I'm just going to go lay down for a while."
Ah phooey. Another Eldar world nearby. Mark it on the map, I guess. At least they were easy to detect from hundreds of lightyears away, thanks to their psychic presence. Which, rather than hiding, they actively flaunted.
While I certainly had no problems throwing a few Petatons away on a whim, if the Eldar warmachine at the height of its power noticed humanity, it would be bad news for the humans.
Actually… getting some bearings on this particular planet… it was only forty-seven lightyears away? That didn't make any sense. Of the hundreds of Eldar worlds I've detected and mapped, all of them were giant beacons of psychic energy. Running through the statistics momentarily negated the idea that I just missed smaller colonies due to their lower presence making them harder to detect. I still should have found dozens by now if they were a regular occurrence. Eldar didn't really do smaller colonies, and they certainly didn't found new colonies, other than the Exodites-
Ah. I think I've answered my own question.
Exodites were odd ducks. The Eldar equivalent of a modern human decrying technology and going to live as a monk at a hermitage. They did so in roughly equivalent percentages of the total population of ascetic monks among humans. The difference in populations, however, meant that there were entire worlds populated by Exodites, albeit sparsely. They were on track to be the only group to consistently survive the fall of the Eldar in a bit less than thirty thousand years. This was primarily thanks to their philosophy; one of self-denial and hard work in direct opposition to the open lustful decadence of the majority of the Eldar population. This abstention saved them from the hungers of Slaanesh, at least during the birth of that entity that spelled the death of the rest of their civilization.
As stuck-up, self-righteous, dismissive aliens go, these guys were not bad. I would even go so far as to say that they were actually worth saving, unlike those who followed the philosophy of the majority of the Eldar.
Now I just needed to decide how to play this.
Actually…
"Hey Big E! I found some Exodites."
I got an amused sense of interest back. "Did you now. Well, what were you planning on doing with them?"
"Well, I don't have any firm plans, so chime in if you have a better idea, but here's what I was thinking-"
639 M03
Menekas was watching the herds, eyes and mind sharp for predators, when he spotted an unusual biped walking calmly in his direction, ignoring their pack-lizards. While the three meter tall animal was obviously a predator of some sort, it was not one that he recognized, which should be impossible given their tribe's meticulous surveys of the planet over the past four hundred years.
A suspicion struck him. It would be just like those disgusting Drukhari to bring an alpha-predator to an Exodite world just to watch as it slaughtered its way through the 'primitives' below while memorizing the events to sell the memprint to others.
The Drukhari were stupid in their corruption though. They seemed to forget that the 'primitives' were yet Aeldari, and rather than letting their natural gifts atrophy, they were sharpened to a wraithblade's edge by living a life of denial and refutation of the excesses that plagued their disgusting cousins.
Even as he limbered his joints for coming combat, Menekas picked a pebble off the stony grazing grounds and fit it to his sling. Twice, his sling revolved, before loosing the stone with the whip-crack of a broken sound barrier. As he expected, the alpha-predator barely reacted as the stone splashed off its carapace, turned to powder from the speed it had been traveling at. The speed at which its eyes had tracked the projectile let him know that it had reflexes comparable to his own. With a few mental simulations of the possible outcomes, he reached out to his kin. It would not do to have them be unprepared even in the unlikely event of his demise.
When he could feel the minds of his entire tribe, he spoke. "Brothers and Sisters. Turn your gaze to me. I would do combat against a predator I do not recognize, and I suspect Drukhari trickery as its provenance."
Their tribe's Farseer spoke, after a moment of intense thought. "I cannot sense any other Aeldari minds nearby, but a careful inspection reveals a great diffusion of psychic energies large enough to raise the background levels a detectable amount. Perhaps they have developed some technology that can hide their presence amidst an appearance of greatness. It would fit their kind."
"To combat then." Menekas drew his wrathbone skinning knife. It was no Wraithblade sword, but it would suffice.
"Before you decide to fight to the death, I figured we should talk." A psychic voice came from the predator- no. From the being in front of him.
"Stop where you are or I shall strike you down, stranger. What is it you seek from the Aeldari people?"
"Ha! Fair enough. I was actually planning on doing you a favor. I have information that you might find interesting." The mind chuckled and spoke with a mirthful presence, as if to mock him.
"You presume to have information unknown to us? Very well, I shall allow you to speak." Menekas restrained his anger as only an Exodite would even bother to do. None of their so-called kin would ever entertain the notion, but the Exodites were more familiar than anyone in the galaxy with knowing crucial information that others would refuse to even hear. It would insult their way of living to not extend at least a symbolic offer to an outsider, despite their lack of deference.
"The Aeldari empire will fall in twenty-six thousand five hundred years, give or take a decade, as the warp-cascade of violence, death, and hedonistic excess births a new warp-entity powerful enough to consume the souls of all Aeldari within more than a thousand lightyears of your home system."
Menekas felt a nova-hot flash of anger and barely restrained his impulse to strike the being down where it stood. "You dare! To have heard of the Prophecy of Endings and use it to attempt to deceive us. I can barely conceive of the level of arrogance required-"
"Iroooonic. Nah, I just have access to more information than you do. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." The being continued to give off every appearance of an amused statesman watching a younger colleague make a fool of themselves.
Menekas was nearly rendered speechless. "You presume… to have better knowledge… of the Prophecy of Endings… than our greatest Farseers, and even the GODS THEMSELVES?!"
"YES"
It felt as though the entire psychic might of the entire Aeldari race was pressing down on him. Even when his entire clan attempted to aid him, the being, the presence didn't even seem to notice the difference in strength between one Aeldari and a thousand.
"I DO"
Only a second had passed, but it was like wading through water to even move a muscle, let alone muster thoughts of resisting the pressure. He could feel several of his clan-mates fall unconscious as they struggled against the oppressive presence that seemed to ring louder within each person than their own thoughts, barely leaving enough room for compliance and nothing else.
And then it was gone, in an instant. The release of pressure was so sudden that Menekas found himself falling to the dirt from lightheadedness.
"Now that that's settled, I was hoping for a bit of exchange. I give you some very valuable information about the specifics of the upcoming timeline, which I doubt that even I can knock off it's rails even if I tried, and you agree to spread that information to other Exodites and any other Aeldari you think would actually care that their empire is about to collapse. Oh, and I'd like to keep your wraithbone knife. It looks neat."
Menekas found himself nodding idly. "Oh. Okay."
He gracelessly dropped his knife on the ground from his deathgrip on the handle, and then turned back towards his tribal home. "I'm just going to go lay down for a while."
