Macha's Vacation

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Revision as of 07:20, 14 December 2008 by 202.49.125.101 (talk)
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The following article is a /tg/ related story or fanfic. Should you continue, expect to find tl;dr and an occasional amount of awesome.

The Sliver, another graceful, irreparable life's work of Eldar artisans spun, slowly, safe for now. But still, wires twitched and tossed free, some reaching a kilometer out into unfeeling into space. The Sliver tumbled across the void, a star ship with its belly slit, and guts streaming, but still alive.

The Farseer waited a scar above her eyebrow, as she gazed into the abyss. The Warp gate crackled, another way point on the webway, before shimmering she emerged, bearing the colors of Ulthwe, the other Farseer.

The Farseer of Biel Tan stood, serene, her helmet removed, staring at her opposite number, still faceless. They were each flanked by their chosen warriors, honed by years of combat, though, (And at this, the Biel Tan Farseer felt a bit of impolite pride) the warriors trimmed in white and green comported themselves with serenity, while the warriors of Ulthwe were ragged. On edge.

The Farseer of Ulthwe, faceless behind her mask waited. The only sign of her impatience the tightening grip on her prized Singing Spear.

"Macha," she said bluntly. "Taldeer," bounced back flippantly.

"Do you blockade me for the satisfaction of it, or are you here to provide another unneeded lecture," the voice rattled in peevish annoyance from the helmet, the wraithbone still loose from some unseen battle, as the Ulthwe Farseer leaned forward, her fist shaking.

She was stopped by a single hand on her shoulder. A harlequin. Macha reflected it odd that she had seen fit to accompany Taldeer, especially with her recent actions.

"Please, Mistress Taldeer," the harlequin soothed, "You are growing-" "Yes," Taldeer snapped, "Yes I know, and if the kind Farseer of Biel Tan-" "The Kind Farseer of Biel Tan," Macha drawled, affecting a mangled Exodite accent, "Hain't sain a thing."

The soldiers stirred, on edge. Yes, Macha noted sadly. Even immortal, tempered by history and sacred duty, even we who have to tend the very weave of the universe can fall like orks to fighting.

"My soldiers-!" "Are noble, good fighters," Macha nodded, stepping closer, "Who have once again proven themselves worthy of the mission proscribed by the Old Ones."

Her hand reached out, ungloved. The Farseer of Ulthwe, hesitated, then carefully removed her helmet, to show a lined, fatigued face, before her gloved hand wrapped around Macha's. Their guards relaxed, the tension cut.

"I don't have much time for this. Our armies are pursued, and upon one of our own maiden worlds, the Great Enemy awakes. Your own ship is damaged..." "I can have time for my sister, can't I?" Macha smiled.

Taldeer sighed, before glancing at the Harlequin, who in turn capered off, the rest of the Ulthwe following out of the webway hall deeper into the bowels of the ship.

"You certainly haven't gained any measure of tact since our last meeting." "Your men needed to rest," Macha affixed her sister with a look, "I'm the warrior here." "Making me a lunatic oracle?" Said Taldeer sardonically, as she walked to the side, falling and sliding down the wall onto a bench. Yes, thought Macha, as she sat next to the Farseer from Ulthwe. They sat there for a moment, content to hear the hum and whistle of the souls of their ancestors running along the ship, before Taldeer again broke the silence.

"This is going to be a long talk, isn't it?" "Oh yes."


Dear Diary,

Today, I captured a cute little Mon'keigh! He keeps shouting really loudly, though... I'm kinda worried that he'll break his cage, too. That yellow and red armor is kinda pretty, though!


"Don't get me wrong," Macha had just ground through a lecture that felt longer than most campaigns she had been on; more painful too, "So far, all that have talked with me admire you in many ways, Urthlael admires your cunning, Silrissai and the Harmonious Manifold appreciate your dedication to service... Eldrad-" "Don't talk about him," whispered Taldeer, one of the few rejoinders she had given back throughout Macha's litany. She had to give the message, it had been her duty. It had been seen that she could be closest, and she had her, ties, to Taldeer. Nonetheless, Macha found herself gritting her teeth again, and decided to cut it short. "BUT, we all agree that your tilt as of late has gotten the more extreme." "I do my duties," Taldeer's eyes raked Macha even slouched against the wall. "That-" THAT, is a distraction, Macha thought, narrowing her eyes, "I am not the one being lectured here." "For what? Confronting the greatest enemy that this galaxy, possibly this universe has every faced?" "Taldeer..." "Oh we are not getting into this argument again," Whispered Taldeer. Growing more and more irrational, glaring down. "You know just as well as I the simple truth: Yes. The Great Enemy were responsible for the downfall of the Old Gods. But the Immaterium is an entire parallel existence-" "I don't have time for this," Growled Taldeer as she stood suddenly, grabbing her spear. Almost simultaneously, the Harlequin crept in, standing at the ready for her mistress's words. "Tell the men to catch up, I will be on," Taldeer glanced back, narrowing her eyes at her sister, "MY vessel, preparing to move for Kronus," she said these words over her shoulder, as Macha stood following after her, irritated at her sister.

"Taldeer, you are treading a very fine line..." "A fine line!" Taldeer slammed her helmet on, rendering her voice cold and artificial, "Look around you, what have we done as a people? 'Held the line,' 'acted with minimal force,' waiting, waiting for us to die so that MAYBE, there can be born, a God to take revenge for us. Eldrad was worse, attempting to 'leave something behind,' his OBSESSION with those little T'au and monkeigh...!" "And you would content yourself with scratching the world?" Asked Macha. "Yes," Hissed Taldeer, "It's better to leave a scar, than a footnote in history."

Then she was gone. Plunged through. On to her fate. Macha sighed. "You tried," said the Harlequin coming beside her, "You tried your hardest. Course, she's always been one to choose the hard way." "Yes," nodded Macha sadly. "Thoooooouuuuughhh," A canny look passed through the Solitaire, "You never really HAD a choice in that department, did you?" "Wha-" Macha stared, blushing, off balance, "What do you, I, you, how-"

Then too, the Harlequin was gone.

"Oh that little bitch," whispered Macha, glaring after her.


Dear Diary,

Dark Eldar are dicks! I decided to let some capture me today, and I thought I might finally get to be with a real man. It started out really nice, they tied me up, and even toyed with me for a few hours. It was rougher then I wanted, but hey, they were really cute! <3! So the one I want to take me finally gets around to taking my pants off, and right when he gets a good look at me, makes this weird face and kisses his buddy. His guy buddy. Oh my god, it was hot, I admit it. But like, they totally forgot about me and had hot anal sex. My hands weren't even free. Dickwads. Oh well! there's always tomorrow.


"THEN SHE LEAVES!" "Please keep it down," murmured the warlock as he picked at his food, shrunken as Macha exploded across from him. "NO! I, I mean, sorry, but the nerve!" Macha snaked out a hand, grabbing "Uncle Feugan's Xtreme Wraithresidue Shake," and sucking on the straw in pure angry focus, glaring at the wall as if she hoped to bore through it straight to the planet Kronus. "Are you sure she didn't mean something more...Not...Related to your..." The warlock murmured, glancing around. "Oh no, OH NO, it was definitely related," growled Macha around her Crazy Straw, "There's a look," she waggled her fingers at her own eyes, which, to the anonymous warlock seemed to not indicate a taunting knowledge, but more borderline mania.

"Yeah...Clear as the void..." The warlock shrunk down under the cafeteria table, as the rest of the staff and crew of the Sliver stared at their Farseer engage in a wraithbone rattling rant.