‘All those who oppose the Eldar shall fear my wrath’
AN: Sorry for the extreme delay in updating. Lots of real world distractions, not the least of which the demise of my beloved Windows XP. But here it is.
Also, some of you have written me in regards as to how this particular Farseer stands in regards to established canon and the books. I hereby freely admit as to not having read any W40K books. What I know comes from having played the games, osmosis from various internet boards and having spent hours and hours and hours of having read various W40K wikis. I could have read some of the novels, I managed to acquire the Path of the Eldar series, but I've decided to hold off on reading them until after I finish uploading this story. Sometimes ignorance is bliss and if Cop'lann behaves or acts a bit differently (or a lot) chalk it up to artistic license. A pathetic weak excuse, I'll be the first to admit that. But I've read enough fanfiction to recognize a good story and a good story is still a good story regardless of adherence to canon (*cough* the new Star Trek movies *cough*), whereas a shitty story with excellent canon is still a shitty story. Again, a pathetic excuse, but if you're troubled by my shitty canon, try to enjoy the story for its own sake. And if you liked it regardless, I hereby bro fist you through the internet.
Off with the horns, on with the show. (digital cookie for who gets the reference)
x A little earlier.
Having halted outside the store Cop’lann stared at its name.
“Is this the place?” he asked as he looked at the noble. He didn’t like trekking through this Chaos stricken town and she obviously longed to be inside again. Not for the first time he rued having to look out for her. She was childish and ignorant. And a serious pain in the ass. But she had agreed to his plan and as such was now at least deserving of his respect.
Plus there was at least one more benefit to dragging her along. Unlike her he could only read lower and higher Gothic, the languages of the Imperium. Not the language these people used however, here in the 2nd Millennium. And while she may have been completely useless, only versed in the useless arts as befitted those being born into the useless classes, she was at least taught how to read and write and in those few centuries that had passed between her age and this one the language had thankfully not changed that much.
“I think it is,” she said staring at the sign, “It reads Ethan’s.”
“Good enough for me,” Cop’lann said and pulled out his Shuriken pistol in one hand and his sword in the other, “Like before, with those scary monsters, stay behind me, and above all, do not run away like you did last time.”
“But it was scary,” she protested, flinching at the memories.
“It may be scary,” Cop’lann said and tapped her with the flat of his blade on her shoulder, “but where would you go? You know nobody here. Stay with me and I will keep you safe. Like with those scary monsters. Remember?”
She nodded. She really was like a small child at times. All humans were, but she really was more childlike then all the others. And in the end can you really blame a child for its ignorant behavior? It almost made him feel regret for what he was going to do to her.
Opening the door Cop’lann entered the store, followed by the girl.
“This place does not look like any shop I know off,” the girl said, looking at all sorts of unfamiliar objects, like the modern day cash register.
“That makes two of us,” Cop’lann said, then he pointed his pistol at a curtain at the back, from behind there was the flicker of candlelight.
Slowly the two of them made it for the curtain, until they were almost next to it, then Cop’lann pushed her behind him with his pistol, then placing the tip of his sword on the curtain.
“Hello, Ripper,” a voice called out in greeting as Cop’lann pushed the curtain aside, “I was expecting you. Granted, a little earlier then planned, but…….”
As Ethan Rayne slowly turned around he saw that he wasn’t looking at Rupert Giles, his former friend and former comrade at occult arms. Instead he was looking at two of the costumes he had been selling. One was the formerly blonde Slayer now wearing the costume of an 18th century noblewoman he had sold her, and there was one of his alien costumes.
“This is a bit, uh, unexpected,” Ethan said a little uncomfortable, “Shouldn’t you two kids not be out there? Having fun?”
“You call this……, fun?” the alien said, his musical voice distorted by his helmet, “You brought down Chaos upon this world.”
“Exhilarating, ain’t it?” Ethan grinned. Inwardly though he tried to remember the details of this particular costume. It had come in a batch with others, seemingly harmless he had thought. Some kind of alien sword fighter or something. He had so many of them. He had figured that if there was a chance that any of his ‘costumes’ would get an idea what was going on and come visiting him it would have been those three Jedi outfits that he had sold. A risk he knew when he decided to offer them up for sale. Still, any chance to see the Force in action was just too good an opportunity to pass upon.
Besides, the Jedi were notorious pussies, always believing in the good of man. While their presence would have been, ‘interesting?’ Ethan didn’t fear them. Unlike a Sith, the costume of which he had been careful not to sell, going even so far as to remove that red light saber after somebody wanted to buy it. This guy on the other hand….. Why couldn’t he remember? Usually he remembered the details of all the costumes he had sold, but for some reason this one eluded him.
“Chaos is not to be trifled with, Ethan Rayne,” the alien said disapproving.
“Oh, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Ethan bit back, “I’m just having some harmless little fun. So a few people die. People die here all the time. At least now they die…., with a little style?”
“I want to go home,” the girl moaned plaintively.
“And you will be, my dear,” Ethan smiled, “Once I end the spell.”
“Somehow I doubt you will end the spell anytime soon,” the alien said a little too ominous for comfort. Damn if only he could remember what kind of alien he was dealing with here. Something regarding space elves. Who hated humans as a few images he had looked up on the Internet saw them fighting against humans.
“Why should I? What's in the bargain for me?” Ethan shrugged. Space elves shouldn’t be bad, right? Just like Jedi. All wrapped up in rules and cultural stuff that made them frown on doing actual nasty bad stuff.
“Ah, you’re one of those,” the alien nodded in understanding, then he shook his head disapprovingly, “How…., disappointing? Peel back the rhetoric of every Chaos cultist and you always end up with a Mon-keigh looking to get a better deal for himself. Only the Imperials seem to have the true believers. And really stupid ones at that.”
He had no idea what the space elf was talking about but he seemed to know how the universe was working.
“Well, are you here to offer me a better deal?” he asked smiling, upon which the alien shook his head.
“Not really,” it shrugged, “I have seen the future and you are just too much trouble worth to keeping around.”
“Future?” Ethan asked surprised, then it dawned upon him, the costume’s name, Eldar Farseer, “You mean, you can actually see into the future?”
“Many futures, little Chaos Cultist,” the alien said and put the tip of his blade on Ethan’s throat, “Unfortunately for you yours now all end with you screaming to be killed. Not a very dignified end, I will grant you that, but when you made your compact with the Ruinous Powers of this realm I’m afraid you made your bed.”
Ethan looked at the alien, then at the blade at this throat. He could almost feel it, like it was alive. And somehow it spoke of a single thing. It demanded to kill something.
As fast as he could Ethan tried to turn around and make for the exit in the back. But he had barely turned around and made one step when the alien shot him in the knee, bringing him crashing down.
“I saw this happening too in all your possible futures, Mr. Ethan Rayne,” the alien said as he holstered his gun, then grabbed him by his hair, “Now, we are going to have a nice little talk in which you explain to me the details of your little spell. It would seem we still have 14 of your Terran minutes before a certain Rupert Giles will arrive at this place.”
The alien then turned to the girl, the magically transformed Slayer.
“It might be best if you went back into the other room, my dear. What will happen here will undoubtedly be most unpleasant for your sensitive tastes.”
“THAT’S ALL!” Ethan screamed in pain, “I SWEAR! THAT’S ALL I KNOW!”
Cop’lann gave Ethan’s wrecked and tortured body one final look, then he sighed. The Chaos Cultist was probably right. While a deceitful creature through and through right now his desire to avoid further pain and his need to tell the truth seemed to coincide. A fortunous congruence, but one which left no more room to exploit. In six minutes Rupert Giles would enter this place. He would have to go.
“I believe you, Mr. Ethan Rayne,” Cop’lann said and reached for his sword, “I shall free you now.”
“Y-y-you’re g-gonna free m-me?” Ethan gasped in pained surprise.
“Metaphorically, of course, Cop’lann said and took the blade of his sword with one hand and brought it to Ethan’s forehead.
“W-what are y-y-you gonna do?” Ethan asked worried as the tip of the alien’s sword reached for his forehead.
“Just a little custom we of Il-Kaithe have developed for our Mon-keigh friends,” the alien said calmly, then he began to slice into Ethan’s forehead and the mage screamed again.
“You humans have such an interesting proverb,” Cop’lann said softly as he focused on what he was doing, “Kill them all and let the God-Emperor sort them out! Naturally when applied to the followers of Chaos we wholeheartedly approve of this principle. But unfortunately your poor Corpse-Emperor seems to be a little overstretched. Being mostly a rotting corpse of course seems to have that effect on the best of people. So we figure, why not give him a hand? After all, we sometimes aid the Imperium in life, why not aid your Corpse-Emperor sorting out the dead as well? There.”
Stepping back Cop’lann admired his handiwork, a nice new and bloody 8 pointed star of Chaos now adorned Ethan Rayne’s forehead.
“Good, the Mon-keigh Corpse-Emperor is strong but I doubt he will mind a little help discerning the heretic from his faithful,” Cop’lann said, then he jabbed his sword through the mage’s heart, killing him instantly.
Sheathing his sword Cop’lann went back to the store, where he found the noble girl waiting for him.
“Is he dead?” she asked, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
“He is dead,” Cop’lann and walked to the store’s counter and began to look for something, then he found what he was looking for and walked past her back to the store’s backroom, “You seem reasonably unperturbed. Normally you seem to be so….. squeamish?”
“My father owns a big sugar plantation in the West Indies,” the girl said, “He sometimes has to punish some of the slaves. It is not pleasant, but it is for their own good.”
“What a nicely cultured man,” Cop’lann called out ruefully as he picked up the glowing statue of Janus and put it into the plastic bag he had gotten from behind the counter. Maybe this Janus was not one of the major Ruinous Powers. Maybe he was, he sounded way too Tzeentchian for comfort. Better to refrain from prolonged direct contact when there were better alternatives.
“He was,” the girl said as he walked back into the store, oblivious to his sarcasm. Like any useless Mon-keigh noble she was totally oblivious to the evil that their political class did. Like owning slaves.
“Here, a present,” Cop’lann said and handed her the bag, “Do not drop it though, it’s precious. Then he walked out of the store. A second later she followed him.
“Why does this bag glow, and from what is it made?” she asked puzzled, “It is impossibly thin.”
“A very thin polymer plastic I suppose,” the Farseer replied, then he looked her deeply in the eyes, “Do you still want to go through with it? This is your final chance. You can still say no.”
The girl looked at him, then the glowing bag, then back at the shop with its tortured to death shop owner in the backroom. She looked very squeamish and Cop’lann figured she would say no. In fact in more then half of the futures he had examined this was the moment of her doubt. Where she would say no.
“I gave you my word, sir” she said, almost sounding insulted, “Where I come from we do not go back on our word. Our word is sacred.”
“Good girl,” Cop’lann smiled approvingly, “Come, we still have a lot of work to do.”
“God, it’s the nerd brigade,” Cordelia sighed as she recognized the Jedi Knights, “Jonathan Levinson, Warren Mears and…., I don’t know you.”
The three Jedi Knights gave her an odd look, before briefly looking at each other.
“You seem to know the men whose faces we are wearing tonight?” the Jedi Knight who was normally Jonathan said surprised.
“Well, I wouldn’t call them men,” Cordelia sniggered softly, “For that you’d need to have sex first. And I doubt you three will ever
have sex. Maybe if one of you built a sex robot…..”
“Cordelia, enough!” Giles barked sharply, then he turned towards the three Jedi Knights, “You know what is going on?”
“Of course,” Jonathan said, “We are Jedi Knights. We can sense the machinations of the Dark Side.”
“We have been sensing its dark power all over town,” Warren said, “Corrupting people.”
“Turning them into monsters,” the third Jedi said.
“But some of them have become heroes,” Jonathan said, “We have watched great acts of bravery along with terrible acts of villainy. We have tried to give a helping hand wherever we went. But we can’t be everywhere at once."
"That is why we came here. We could sense a great and terrible disturbance in the Force here. A distortion that could only have come from the Dark Side. One we thought was at the heart of what was going wrong here.”
“You do realize you are no different then any of the other people who turned into their costumes, right?” Giles asked curious.
“We realized that soon enough,” Jonathan said, “For neither of us looks like we should have. For starters I am supposed to be Twi’lek, not human.”
“And I’m no longer Nautolan,” Warren added.
“Using a Jedi meditation trance I learned that my original body is that of a Jonathan Levinson,” Jonathan explained, “a native of this place. I have no idea why he chose to dress up as a Jedi Master or why our universe is known on this primitive planet. I am normally called Master Sh’u, but if it makes you feel any better you may call me Jonathan.”
“I am Jedi Knight Ralto,” Warren said, “But Master Sh’u’s meditation revealed to me that I am a human teen called Warren Mears. And that I seem to have a dangerous tendency to skirt with the Dark Side.”
“I am Padawan Telran,” the third Jedi said, “but it would seem that I inhabit the body of Andrew Wells, a very confused and disturbing young man.”
“Of course, Andrew!” Cordelia said as she finally recognized the 3rd Jedi, “That’s the one, that’s the third nerd.”
“Cordelia, not now,” Giles said again annoyed.
“We should be going,” Angel said impatiently, “All the time while we talk Xander’s taking Buffy further away from us.”
“Is this Xander responsible for what has happened here?” Jonathan/Master Sh’u asked curious.
“No,” Giles said and pointed to Ethan’s body, hanging to the right of the three Jedi, “He was.”
The three Jedi turned around and saw Ethan’s dead body hanging.
“It would seem that somebody delivered him into the embrace of the Force,” Master Sh’u said understating.
“I do not understand, Master,” the Padawan said confused, “You said that if we find the man responsible for this and defeat him we could end this. He has been defeated. He has been more then defeated. Why is this not over?”
“My guess, because of this Xander that the Undead One spoke off,” Master Sh’u said, briefly leaning forward to examine some of the wounds on Ethan’s body, “It would seem that whatever scheme this fellow’s been up too, it backfired in the shape of this Xander. I presume this Xander also dressed up as one of his favorite characters?”
“An Eldar Farseer,” Giles said.
“Can’t say it means anything to me,” the Jedi Master said, “What is he exactly and maybe more important, what can he do?”
It was with that question that all eyes turned to Willow.
Carrying the surprisingly heavy bag Buffy the noblewoman found that the handle bars cut very uncomfortably into her hands, even when she switched hands. Whoever had designed these clearly gave little thought to wearer comfort.
Or they figured that just like in her time they would be carried by servants. And who gives much thought to a servant’s comfort?
Since they had left the shop the alien knight hadn’t said a single word. Pressing on relentless, ignoring her attempts at making conversation. How rude!
Still, maybe that was for the best. This was after all a dangerous place and if the alien knight was fully concentrated on keeping her safe, so much the better.
He was an odd fellow, this Cop’lann. A being from another planet, no, a ship so big that it was like a world itself. It boggled the mind that such a thing could even exist. She wondered what it would look like. A part of her wanted to see it. Go with him to that strange place. That strange place, where people lived in a giant ship the size of the Earth.
He was also a brutal man. He had tortured the warlock. She wasn’t stupid. Even from inside the shop she could hear what he was doing to that poor man. It was terrible. And she knew why he had done it. It was why she had agreed to help him.
He was also decisive. He did what needed to be done and took charge. He paid no heed to her protests. He knew what he wanted and did what he wanted to do. That made him very much like the people of her class that she had grown up with and was expected to marry.
But there was no malice in what he did.
Oh, he hurt people alright. He didn’t seem to care much for people like her, people of noble birth. Then again he didn’t have much love for anyone really. Anyone not of this Eldar race. At times even hatred. But he took no joy in hurting others that were not really evil. And that at least made him far better then anyone she knew where she came from.
She knew that when her father punished the slaves he enjoyed exercising that power. Oh, he often said that he only did what he had to do, but she could see it in his eyes, and his tone of voice. Father did like exercising that power over others. Almost all members of the nobility that she knew did. And she knew that when her father visited her mother in the bedrooms he took that attitude with him.
She knew she had no say in what man her parents would select for her, other then that he would come from a good noble family and that the marriage between them would strengthen her family’s position and fortune. Personal compatibility of course would play no role in it. She had accepted this, this was the role all women played, including her own mother.
This was her fate and she had come to accept it. She just hoped that whoever she was going to marry was neither a fop who would be walked over by others, nor a cruel man who took delight in the suffering of others.
And then she met Cop’lann.
Like a proper noble man he was decisive and authorative. He didn’t take shit from anyone and would kill if need be. She even liked that in men. She just didn’t like the malice with which most men seemed to do it.
Cop’lann on the other hand did not like to use cruelty. He was just a man living in cruel times.
He was also the man who had given her a Purpose. It is not every day that one is given a Purpose with a capital letter and she took it. He had shown her a vision of his time and world and after seeing that how could she refuse to help him? Become a wife to a cruel nobleman and bear his offspring instead?
No, this was way better.
Suddenly the alien knight halted and signaled for her to halt and go stand behind him. Then he fired his pistol six times into some bushes and out came cries of pain and anguish.
Then he took off his helmet and spoke.
“You might as well come out, Spike, I know you’re there,” he said confidently, like he knew for sure that whoever he was addressing was out there.
For a moment nothing happened, other then continued cries of pain and anguish. Then a tall man in a long black leather coat and impossibly blonde hair appeared, followed by a motley gang of monsters, most of them small. And some of them now injured.
“I have to admit, Droopy, you sure took a level up in bad assery,” the newcomer said with some bravado, “How did you know I was there?”
“I saw it happen in at least seventeen different timelines,” Cop’lann replied calmly, “the only thing that was in doubt was where you were going to ambush us. Luckily I could sense your mind and those of your followers.”
The blonde man pulled out a small paper tube and put it into his mouth. Then he proceeded to light it.
“I assume you’re like all the others and turned into your Big Bad costume, right?” the blonde man said after exhaling a large puff of smoke, “In which case, I have no beef with you. I’d even be willing to make you a deal. I will let you be on your merry way and do whatever it is that you’re gonna do. All I want in return is one thing. Just a little thing.”
“Suppose I haven’t heard what you want in return in at least fifteen possible timelines, what is it that you want?” Cop’lann asked.
“Simple,” the blonde man said and pointed towards her, “Her.”
“Me?” Buffy the noblewoman said horrified.
“Nothing personal, love,” the blonde man grinned at her, “I’m sure whoever you are now is a fine and upstanding woman. But my beef’s with the person that you’re in. And she and I are kinda……, how shall I put it, mortal enemies? And if I kill you I also kill her. As the old saying goes, like killing two birds with one stone.”
Cop’lann said nothing for a moment, then he looked over his shoulder at her.
“You’re not going to do as he says, right?” she said horrified, “He wants to kill me!”
Cop’lann shrugged at her words, then he holstered his gun.
“I knew you would see sense,” the blonde man said victoriously, then he beckoned to his minions, “Get her.”
Horrified Buffy the noblewoman looked at the alien knight.
“I thought you were going to protect me?” she said saddened, “That you had need of me?”
Cop’lann said nothing and turned towards Spike again.
“Not today, little Mon-keigh mutant,” Cop’lann said and his eyes flashed. As soon as they did Spike and the monsters under his control fell to their knees as they clutched their heads and began to scream.
“NOOOO!!!!!” Spike yelled, “What the…. GET….. OUT…. OF….. MY….. MIND!”
The screaming lasted for half a minute, then Cop’lann put his helmet back on.
“What have you done?” Buffy the noblewoman asked aghast.
“I acquired an army,” Cop’lann said casually and walked over to Spike and patted him on the shoulder.
“I could never have done it without you grandstanding like an idiot first,” he said condescending, “It takes time to mindcontrol this many minds at once. Even more time in a place like this in a body like this. Thanks for being so….. predictable.”
“I bloody hate you,” Spike groaned as he glared hatefully at Cop’lann.
“That is okay,” Cop’lann shrugged, “Unlike Chaos I only require your obedience, not your devotion.”
Then Cop’lann leaned over and whispered into Spike’s ear.
“Once I am done you can have her.”
AN: The character of Jedi Knight Ralto was lovingly borrowed (with permission) from LegacyWeapon’s story Far, Far Away.