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Legacies

Started by N01H3r3, August 03, 2009, 06:46:36 PM

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N01H3r3

Present Day - 215.604.M35 by Imperial Reckoning

The holds of The Opportunist were vast and filled with all manner of treasures and trinkets... but those of Eldar origin were lacking in worth.

Hos stood nearby, his satisfaction showing in a broad smile as he watched Alundirel sift through the shelves and crates.

"Ugh... and what did you think this was?" Alundirel turned, a disgusted expression on his face as he held out what looked to be a strange crystalline mineral.

"There were dozens of them, buried on Heresfell near the ruins of an ancient Eldar settlement." Hos' expression faded somewhat at this.

"It's faecal matter, Hos. Biological waste. You probably found the remnants of an animal pen. Only a human could dig up the dung of a Megadon and believe it to be treasure."

"Oh... you're certain?"

"Collectively, I've spent fourteen years on various Exodite worlds. I know what it looks like. This however," He said, picking up a gem-studded sphere the colour of sun-bleached bone, "is a marvel. This alone is worth more than the rest of the true Eldar artefacts here, and I will not leave without it."

"What is it?"

Alundirel traced a finger along one of the rune-etched gems, and watched as the sphere began to hum slightly, the gems beginning to fluoresce. "If I were to continue this sequence of runes, there would be a perfectly round hole in your cargo hold large enough to fly a tank through. It's a distort charge, a weapon that tears holes in matter and leaves absolutely nothing behind. I will not leave without it, and if you somehow manage to stop me, there is no conceivable way that I would reveal to you the sequence in any manner except by demonstrating it first-hand on the weapon itself."

Hos went pale and took a step backwards. "Let's not be hasty here, Eldar. I wouldn't trust any of the potential buyers on this world with a weapon like that in the first place."

"I will take the weapon for safekeeping away from the grasp of your kind. There is nothing else here of any value to me; broken trinkets and the irrelevant detritus of an abandoned Exodite colony."

"We had a deal..." Hos started to exclaim.

"Yes, we did, human. My wealth in exchange for the lost treasures of my kind. There are, however, no lost treasures, only a weapon of immense destructive power, three fragments of a broken plate, a damaged power cell from a lasblaster, and a pile of animal dung. The former I am taking, regardless of your desire for recompense, and the rest is worthless. Goodbye."

Click

Alundirel stopped in his tracks as he walked away, the device tucked into his bag. He turned, to see Hos stood there, a bolt pistol aimed steadily at Alundirel's head.

"No. I will not be left with less than I started with. Anything of worth you own... that fancy sword, for a start."

"My blade has been with my family for longer than your species has existed. It will not leave my side."

"HAND IT OVER!"

"Do you honestly think you can best me? I am two and a quarter millennia old, and in my life I have brought war to hundreds of worlds, slain countless thousands, both face-to-face and from the command chamber of a starship. Every one of your accomplishments, every facet of your life that you pride yourself on - your commanding presence, your skill at arms, the reputation of your ship - I have equalled or bested in my long existence, and I am not done yet."

"I'm the one with the gun."

"Yes, you are. You are, by your species' reckoning, three metres from me, with a loaded weapon aimed directly at me. It would take you one-tenth of a second to will yourself to squeeze the trigger, and another few fractions of a second for the weapon to respond and fire. Against any human, you would be the victor. I am no human."

Half-derisively, and half still shaking with panicked frustration, Hos laughed, and moved to squeeze the trigger.

Alundirel just smiled, and it was not a pleasant smile. In almost no time at all, he had crossed the distance between them, stepping to the side of the outstretched gun, and level with Hos' shoulder as the weapon discharged.

"You blinked," hissed Alundirel. Hos dropped the bolt pistol in shock, unable to comprehend how any being that looked so human could move so fast.

Alundirel walked away again. "Attempt to stop me again, and you shall not live to regret it."
***

Alundirel entered the Webway, and reached into his pack, laughing softly to himself. He ran his fingertips along the runes of the device, and faint music played as the lights grew more intense, before the image of lithe dancers coalesced above the largest gem, wrought from light.

A music box, and one that Alundirel had sought for a friend on Iybraesil for many a decade. The trick had been simplistic, but the Rogue Trader had sought only to ascertain what was valuable and what was not before auctioning it off to other greedy humans - Alundirel merely broke the deal before the human could.

As he strode away, his laughter mingled with the echoes of the music, and the Void's Gift was left far behind.
Contributing Writer for many Warhammer 40,000 Roleplay books, including Black Crusade

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