The Empress of mankind walked across the shadowy expanse of the Noctis Labyrinth with all due caution. The vox she'd received from the Mechanicum, of strange, peculiar energy readings, had been most disconcerting. Worth a personal investigation even. Such was the caution of the Empress, her determination to personally see to it that that great dragon was staying put in it's aging cage. Flanked by her trustworthy custodian guards, the matter should've been a simple one.
The simplicity of the task was rendered moot by the sudden surprise entrance of several silvery stern metallic xenos.
"Necrons, here?' Thought the Empress. 'I suppose they would've shown up at some point, but now? This is far too early, my predictions, my visions, they should still be sleeping.'
Of course, she quickly realized her prior predictions weren't exactly perfect, her current predicament was proof enough of that. With a silent impulse of telepathy she implored her beloved Custodes to strike the moment the Necrons showed hostile intent, not a moment sooner.
"Why are you here?" Inquired the Empress, restraining her more xenocidal urges.
From amongst the small crowd of what she assumed to be an elite retinue of the mechanized xenos, the distinguished figure of a necron lord emerged. Regal, this one posessed a blue scaled cape, alongside a blue chest and golden centrepiece. A colored arching hood of some sort domed over his head, with blue color and golden highlights. He carried himself with a sort of composed dignity, a strength of purpose the Empress had little seen in her ages stranded in the Sol system by the age of strife. He carried an exquisitely crafted antique staff, a surely potent weapon.
For a moment, her gaze lowered, by way of habit really. She noticed that his groin was covered by a peculiar sort of scaled metal tabard. The sort of bulky accessory that should've left his crotch entirely to her well developed imagination. Except it didn't. Despite the hefty piece of apparel she could quite clearly discern a girthy bulge underneath. No doubt some unnecessaily heft codpiece. Were it not for the relatively dire situation she would have certainly been captivated by thoughts about what could, theoretically, be hiding beneath.
"Empress of Terra, I have come to bargain" spoke the Necron Lord, in an uncharacteristically smooth tone for his kind, absent of harsh reverberation or echoing. The voice almost sounded organic.
"Oh, and just what do you offer that I might need? Xeno's filth!"
The Necron lord laughed off her harsh words. Clearly this was a veteran of uncountable centuries of verbal sparring.
"My lady, may I call you that? I have come to this most, erm,'unsettling' place to offer up what you humans call 'the olive branch'.
A flash of green permeated his right hand for a split second, a literal olive branch appearing within not long after.
'Well, at least this Necron has style I suppose.' Thought the Empress with mild impress. Deftly walking up to the lord, she took the branch in hand, despite the clear worries of her Custodes.
"That expression has not existed for millenia? Who are you to have stumbled upon it?"
The Necron once more let loose his bemused chuckle "A collector of antiquities, quite simply. Unlike my kin I never slept. Which was how I noticed the return of 'them'.
The Empress froze up a slight bit at their mere mention, flashes of her encounter with the Beasts running freely through her almost pristine mind. The Necron's eyes seemed to notice her distress, almost narrowing in satisfaction at how much purchase that simple four letter word had landed.
"I see, to imagine a being such as yourself would fall victim. Still, my lady, that is most conducive to our current exchange. You know the threat they pose, as do I. Species lines means nothing in the face of such reckless chaos. Now is the time of action. So, on that note..."
That distinctive green flash once more washed over his free hand, this time culminating in the appearance of a fancy letter.
"If you seek to learn more of these new enemies. If you wish to mark a ceasefire in the name of removing 'those' threats from the proverbial board, then I invite you to open up the letter."
The Empress mulled it over for a second. Then came to the speedy conclusion that, while the current situation was highly suspect, the tradeoff of vital knowledge was well worth the risk. Besides, this Necron had intrigued her somewhat. From what she had gathered their kind saw humans in an even lesser light than the Eldar. Yet here was a clearly distinguished Necron treating her with all due respect, like an equal even. Perhaps he was just desperate? Yet even then, it showed a sort of desperation that could also be trusted.
'Plus, he is kind've handsome, in a weird chiseled statue kind of way'.The thought popped into her head suddenly, abruptly, yet for all her old hatred of xenos she just couldn't find it in her to disagree with the thought.
"I suppose I should take the opportunity. Stay put my loyal custodes, I don't imagine the talks will take too long. And you, Necron, I'd ask you stop referring to me as 'My Lady'. It is grating."
"Whatever you say, 'My Lady." Trolled the the impossibly smug Necron Lord.
The Empress scoffed at his remark, then nimbly opened up the letter in a single motion. It took less than a tenth of a hundredth of a second for her post human mind to brush through its text, which was about the same amount of time it took for what she could only assume was a built in teleporter to activate, transporting her across time and space to the Necron Lord's meeting place.
To: The Empress of Mankind
From: Necron Overlord Trazyn the Infinite
You are cordially invited to my Solemnace Galleries for a private showing, in regards to the answers you currently seek. Also on the itinerary will be peace talks, refreshments, and other such amenities to the primary subject at hand. May the accommodations be to your likings.
