985.M41: The Emperor's Boot
Storage bay 12
Jarod stared at the Rogue Trader as he stood in front of the Farseer. Robert insisted that he meet the Eldar, saying that he had dealt with them before -- the fact that that ended with several dead guardsmen and aspect warriors was beside the point. In any case, the two were now across from one another, their faces straighter than the stick up Khaine's ass.
He was subtly trying to read the minds of everybody in the room, a trick he had learned after Michael's mental breakdown. Most of the humans were apprehensive, many of them gripping their weapons or glaring at the Eldar, often both. He wasn't able to get much of a read on the Eldar, as every time he tried to read one of their minds, they would turn and glare at him.
The space marines standing on either side of the entrance to the room were in a similar position to the Eldar, except instead of glaring at Jarod with contempt when he tried to read their minds, they did the mental equivalent of rolling their eyes and ignoring him. It wasn't like he could accurately read their thoughts anyway, only being able to read their surface emotions.
The tension in the air was thick enough that you could cut through it with an over-used joke, so much so that when the Farseer finally spoke, Jarod could actually feel the tension leaving the room.
"I see that you are the one guiding the two travelers," Elirom observed, gesturing to Michael and Jarod.
Robert scoffed, "Travelers indeed. I will have you know that the two of them are the only reason you're alive right now. Had it been up to me, I would have left you on that rock." he said candidly.
Half the Eldar in the room scowled, the other half wearing helmets that covered their expressions. Elirom kept a straight face, however, choosing instead to keep a level head in order for diplomacy to win out over pride and stupidity.
"I will refrain from causing any further ill will between our people, Captain, but I will ask that you return me and my people to our craftworld. And if possible, allow Michael and Jarod to stay there for a time as well." He explained.
Jarod wasn't against taking the Eldar back to their craftworld, heck it was probably their best option, but hearing Elirom suggest that they stay there for a while? That seemed a bit much to ask. Granted they would probably still do it -- because why not -- but it seemed even Elirom wasn't immune to Aeldari arrogance.
Regardless, Robert put a hand under his chin, thinking it over.
"I can arrange for you to be brought back to your craftworld, but Michael and my heir will have the final say of how long they will stay on your ship if they set foot on it at all." He explained.
Elirom nodded, allowing a small smile to come over his face, "We are in agreement then. The Aeldari and I will remain in this storage room. We have enough rations to last us, and if we need more I am sure we can work out another arrangement."
Robert finally let go of his poker face, a grin coming over his features, "For a 'filthy Xenos' you seem to know how to negotiate." He said, holding out a hand.
Elirom shook it, both recognizing that there was no going back. When the handshake was made, that was it.
While the remaining humans and space marines soon left the storage room, Jarod noticed Robert put his hand up to his nose, before pulling them away revealing a bit of blood on his fingertips. Robert frowned, before wiping his nose and turning to follow the rest of his crew. Jarod frowned, brushing his psyche against Robert, only reading the frustration about whatever that was.
[-----]
Matthias sighed as he checked the diagnostics on the Gellar field. Not that it was damaged, or that it was in need of maintenance, but simply so that he had something to do. He needed an excuse to stay away from the Xenos down in the storage room.
It wasn't that the questioned the motives of the Rogue Trader, or of the two men that he had taken as impromptu apprentices, but he did wonder why they were so willing to consort with aliens. He may have been a more progressive member of the mechanicum, but even he didn't want to work around the Xenos and their heretical technology.
He had resigned himself to the fact that he would be working on the same ship with them, however. Hopefully, their interactions would be kept to a minimum.
He was shaken from his thoughts when Jarod barged into the room, a half-empty bottle in his right hand, and a wrench in the left.
"IT'S TIME FOR SCIENCE~!" He yelled dramatically.
Matthias spent the better part of an hour trying to keep the drunken Rogue Trader heir from breaking anything, though he was unable to stop him from making an odd modification to the Gellar fields.
He prayed to the Omnissiah that whatever Jarod did it would not cause any problems, as a Daemon incursion was the last thing he needed to deal with.
Fortunately, as the days turned into weeks, and those weeks into a couple of months, the device only seemed to vibrate and glow every now and again, appearing to do nothing. What that could mean, Matthias had no idea. Still, according to some of the braver enginseers on board, the Eldar appeared rather calm considering their situation.
Mattias was not happy when he was told that the Eldar had broken something in the storage room, and it was his duty to deal with it. He headed out of the engine room, down the lift, and into the room where the Xenos were staying. He started to question his sanity and willingness to continue working on The Emperors Boot when the first thing he saw was Captain Michael wrestling an Eldar Striking Scorpion to the floor, a ring of Eldar and Guardsmen surrounding them and cheering.
Granted both groups were segregated to one side each, but they weren't trying to go at each other's throats when two of them were clearly in the process of combat. Matthias muttered under his breath about his employers being far too liberal with their relationships with Xenos. How Michael had gotten the poor sap to agree to the contest was a miracle in and of itself that Matthias was not willing to deal with.
He eventually identified the problem he had been originally summoned to deal with. That problem being a servitor that had gotten its top half stuck underneath a crate… somehow. With a sigh, the Tech-priest began the arduous process of removing the servitor and repairing the thing.
As he was working, Michael finished his fight and spotted Matthias, and further decided to walk over and make some conversation with the liberal-minded cogboy.
"So, they actually got you to come and get the thing unstuck?" Michael asked as he observed Mattias work.
"To be fair, I doubt the others had any better idea on how you managed to get the servitor in this position than I do. And me being at the head of the command chain, I was the one who got stuck with it." Matthias said in a clipped and irritated tone.
Michael flinched at his attitude, "For the record, It was kind of everybody's fault. We had two servitors chucking crates, and this one-" Michael patted the crate, "-was just a bit too big for it." He explained.
Matthias eyed Michael, before looking at the ground and seeing the myriad of scrapes that covered the ground, giving his story merit. Matthias shook his head, "I'm still confused how you managed to get the Xenos to… well, play games with you. Aren't the Eldar, and I quote, 'high-and-mighty space elves with nothing better to do than look down on us'?" He asked.
Michael shrugged, "Never said they weren't, I just managed to appeal to their superiority complex. Well, that and whatever counts as competition for them."
Matthias looked back to the ring of people, where two Eldar were now fighting in hand-to-hand.
"And this will help us… how?" He asked.
Michael chuckled, "Well, right now it ensures that they won't try and stab us in the back. And, if what the farseer says is true, we may end up working with them more in the future."
Matthias rolled his eyes, "Clearly I won't wake up one day with a shuriken pistol pointed to my head with your attitude."
Michael snorted before running off to rejoin the ring.
[-----]
Elirom observed the two species from a distance. Their little competitions were certainly a way to keep tensions down, and he was thankful that Michael had suggested it. It was also good that he had approached the Farseer with the idea first as well, as the rest of the Eldar would have sooner relived Michaels head from his shoulder's if he'd suggested the idea outright.
The Eldar were far too proud for their own good, something the Farseer recognized. He was glad that Michael and Jarod had recognized the fact as well, as they both took steps to mitigate the problem.
The Eldar would never admit it, but the games gave them a good way to weed out their superiority complex. It turned out that yes, the Eldar won about eighty percent of the competitions held, but they still lost some of them, letting them know that they were not invincible.
It also helped that Michael had little pride to speak of. Yes he was still human, no he did not like losing, but he was a good sport about it and congratulated those that had beat him. Elirom smiled as he remembered the first time Michael won one of the fights with an Eldar, instead of gloating or jeering as the Eldar had, he actually helped the Eldar up and gave him his due respect.
After that fight, the guardsmen and Eldar seemed to get along rather well. They were still wary of each other of course, entire lifespans of hatred and indoctrination will do that, but they no longer felt the need to sleep with one eye open.
He smiled when he saw Michael walking over to him, having just conversed with the tech-priest.
"I must thank you again, Michael, your efforts have kept our people from a fate that many would consider… unfortunate."
Michael grinned, "Well, I'd rather my crew be alive instead of dead, so I can't really complain either. Also, I had a question… shouldn't you lot hate traveling through the warp?" He asked.
Elirom nodded, "Under normal circumstances yes, traveling through the warp instead of the Webway is… uncomfortable at the best of times. Our souls shine brighter than those of humans, so we often attract unwanted attention from She-Who-Thirsts. Though I must confess that whatever technology you have shielding your ship is better than most Imperial vessels."
Michael shrugged at the compliment, "Well, I can't tell you what our Gellar field does differently the regular ones, but at least it keeps you guys safe from He… She… It, I'm just going to call it an it."
Elirom raised an eyebrow, "You do not call the dark gods by their names?" He asked.
Michael shook his head, "Oh I definitely do, we've already had a run in with Nurgle-" Elirom shuddered, "-cultists, a couple of Khornate space marines, and Jarod actually had a full-on conversation with Tzeentch." he explained.
Elirom shook his head, eyeing the human next to him, "Jarod has spoken with the serpent? And he has not been corrupted!?" he asked, very surprised.
Michael shrugged, "For the record, we have a lot of experience with Chaos in general. And I for one have no interest in being turned into a screaming pile of flesh." He said casually.
Elirom looked into Michael's psyche, suddenly very wary of everyone onboard the ship, but found that his soul was totally free of taint, as were the souls of every other human in the storage room. He was extremely surprised at that final fact.
When he had been greeted by the two space marines, he had sensed the corruption of Khorne on one of them, but that corruption seemed to be rather limited in nature. Jarod just seemed like a pure light in the warp, so Elirom had not even bothered to check him for any form of corruption, but hearing what Michael said? It made his mind reel.