A Light Not Extinguished

Chapter 4: The Skirmish at Shikiniku

"The Dragontamer's ritual will never succeed, scion of a false god! You think you can seal us away? As long as there is life in this galaxy, we will live, and one day there will be nothing save the mark of the eight-point star, Aenarion Ulthanesh!"

"Really? Then tell me, soul-dreg of the Primordial Annihilator. Why are you cowering?"
-Fragment of Aeldari scroll taken from the razed City of Kyandros, titled 'Saga of Aenarion the Defender'. The historical significance of this remains unknown.

***

M24. 231

Outside the Shinikiku System

A starship hovers silently through the void. If one squints closely enough, they would identify the hull as wraithbone, if they could peer past the layer of flesh and eyes. In front of it was a rapidly expanding portal of psychoplastics and crystal, a still-forming gateway to the labyrinthine dimension known as the Webway.

In the interior of the ship, two long-eared humanoids reclined on couches of shimmering leather, their images reflected by the mirror-like walls of the room. One of them was fully naked, all of the skin covered in tattoos made of the blood of a long-extinct species. The other was scantily clad in see-through fabric, with tiny tentacles instead of hair wriggling on the scalp. Cowering in the corners of the room were dozens of slaves, desperately trying not to move or make a sound, lest they attract their masters' attention.

"Time to put the cattle to good use." The tattooed Eldar said lazily, tracing a line of purple smoke in the air. The smoke swirled briefly, before darting into the mouth of a young human girl huddled in the corner. Her screams filled the room as the other slaves looked away, the chemicals in the smoke slowly dissolving every cell in the body. Within a few minutes she had turned into a puddle of gore- a relatively quick death on this ship.

The tentacled Eldar beckoned another slave forward, this one a Tarellian male. "Hrm. You've always lacked imagination, Sylvyn. Really, how... unrefined of you- her pain was a pitiful morsel." Tell me, dog, how does it feel to be trapped in your own body, with every sense amplified?" The Tarellian stared at him, his expression locked in a visage of horror, the collar on his neck paralyzing his body.

"Nevermind, I can taste your feelings! It's delicious. Come closer, I won't bite..." The Eldar grabbed his arm. "Actually, on second thought, I will." the Aeldari leaned down, revealing razor sharp teeth, and with a quick movement, bit a chunk off his shoulder, fur and all.

The alien's eyes widened to a degree which in other circumstances would be called comical as the Tarellian finally screamed, the collar allowing it. The Eldar spat out the bloody hunk of meat. "Eeugh. Not really that delicious." He grabbed a rod-shaped device from his belt. "Mother always said that meat is best cooked." An unusual amount of drool poured out of the sadist's mouth, as he began to blowtorch the Tarellian's arm. Howls echoed in the chamber as the smell of cooked flesh filled the air.

"And done!" The Eldar ripped off the cooked flesh right off the bone, exposing the bone underneath, as the Tarellian howled himseslf hoarse, the drugs secreted by the collar keeping him awake.

"My turn!" The other Eldar stomped over, tattoos glowing as a sphere of black fire materialized in her hand. "You think that my imagination is lacking? I think you will change your mind once you witness the Mantra of the Eight Despairs..."

At the same time, another ship hurtled through the Warp, zeroing in on its prey. Its teal blue paint job is accented by a warm gold, mute red lines running along the hull of its frame. Roughly three hundred meters in length, the Corvette-class Federation military ship prepared for battle as it closed in on its target.