Admiral Idraevil, scion of house Baleforn, the self-styled ‘Bleakspike’, snarled with hungry anticipation as his fleet slipped through the void in silence. The latest intelligence had proven surprising indeed. The brutish mon’keigh fleet from the nascent Imperium were still in at the further reaches of the system, instead of conquering the planet as expected. Scans detected the remains of a void battle, so perhaps the natives here had put up a stiffer resistance than the Imperium had expected? There were far more ships in the fleet than expected, too.

A shame, then. The hunt for the distracted and weakened living weapons would have to be called off.

However, that still left a primitive world ripe for the taking. No doubt the defenders would still be on alert, but the clumsy humans’ awareness was far blunter than that of the Eldar. That neither the Imperium fleet nor the natives reacted, nor were there any communications frequencies detected between the two, was comforting proof that the raiding fleet’s arrival was at worst, masked as an unidentified blip, an erroneous anomaly to the inferior human sensors.

Idraevil grinned at the thought. Comforting for him and his household, but an delectable agony for the slaves that would soon fill the fleet’s holds.

Sweetening the coming raid, the local humans’ orbital defenses were highly inadequate. There were only a score of large ships that might pose a threat, and a single space station that would serve as an ideal collection point for the planetary harvest of flesh. The ships had no signs of life on them, which was a minor issue. The Eldar had dealt with automata-reliant savages before.

Plans were drawn up, bribes and deals negotiated for the vanguard position, and the necessary backstabbing was resolved to secure a place in the boarding parties. All the while, the prey remained unmoved in their formation, the smaller vessels protectively surrounding the space station while the larger ones orbited the planet itself to provide some form of paltry protection.

The raiding fleet dropped its stealth completely as it neared the planet’s lone moon, and combat systems came fully online. Immediately there was movement from the defenders, and Idraevil enjoyed a tingle of delight simply imagining the panic the very sudden, very close appearance of an unknown fleet must have caused the defenders. He didn’t know if he preferred them to despair knowing of his fleet’s intent, or to have them confused about the arrival of so many ships up until the Eldar fleet began firing on them.

Regardless, the sleek raiding ships powered towards the planet with prow weapons primed and targets assigned. The speartip of the Eldar fleet would strike immediately when it got within effective range, focusing its fire on ship engines and weapon arrays. It would set the stage for the rest of the fleet to follow up to obliterate overly stubborn targets and cripple the space station in preparation for capture. Once orbital superiority was achieved, it was then down to getting the timing right to maximize the ripeness of the planetary populace’s fear. Targets would have to be picked for sorties and precision bombardments.

That was the plan, at least.

When they got into firing range of the mon’keigh fleet, those capital ships in range were subjected to a blinding barrage of lance, pulsar and haywire batteries from the Eldar speartip, which was followed up by further strobing fire from the other raiders as they closed the distance. It was an artful precision strike, an artistic act of destruction worthy of a day or two of boasting in the noble gatherings.

But the admiral scowled in confusion when he saw the results of his artwork. As the raiding fleet thrust into the planet, the human ships in the way were not the melted debris field that he’d imagined. The four capital ships were still intact, and worse, they seemed to still be fully operational.

Perhaps these savages warranted some tactical consideration after all.

“Shatter the spear,” Idraevil commanded. “Break off the attack run and harry the prey from all sides.” Instead of a focused attack, the Eldar fleet would scatter and pick apart the immobile defenders at its leisure. It was a less elegant maneuver, but still a tried-and-true staple that served the raiding fleets well for millenia.

The fleet immediately began to split off from their close formation, but the humans finally retaliated.

A torrent of plasma bolts blasted apart the edges of the separating fleet, bracketing the Eldar ships back into a closer formation. For all their maneuverability, the fleet was being herded by an unfathomable amount of firepower. Then lances of white laser beams lashed out, accurately puncturing the vanguard ships from prow to stern, and then piercing through their sister ships behind.

Idraevil stared blankly as the reports began to filter in. In just that few seconds, nearly a third of the fleet had obliterated. Confusion and panic reigned among the captains of the other ships as they were forced ever closer towards the lethal beams.

Some tried to veer out of formation, trying futilely to slip past the unceasing stream of plasma bolts. None succeeded in breaking through. The admiral heard and felt the death cries of the fools as their ships disintegrated like a sheet of ice being forced through a curtain of molten lava.

And then the sensors picked up the rest of the mon’keigh ships converging on his fleet at a far faster speed than initially thought possible, and Idraevil began to severely regret his earlier assumptions. The energy readings spiked to levels that should have caused each human ship to explode into miniature supernovas. That they were capable of unleashing such firepower at all for so long should have been impossible to start with.

Only when the humans had the raiders surrounded did the shooting stop. The defiant raiders fired at these upstart savages, but neither lance or torpedoes left a mark on their vessels. In return, pinpoint fire picked out the weapons and engines of each Eldar ship, rendering them effectively paralyzed.

After the last weapons bay was blown out and the last ship immobilized, there was a few seconds of dreaded silence. At first, Idraevil thought they would open communications to gloat and mock, but that notion was harshly cast aside when both the capital and escort vessels began disgorging clouds of metal.

Despite his resignation at the burning humiliation of an utter defeat, Idraevil sent out the orders to prepare to repel boarders.

The tide of metal monsters began pouring through the ships’ hallways several minutes later. The entire crew of Admiral Idraevil Baleforn’s shattered fleet were mutilated and broken before being dragged off. The admiral tried to make a stand, but metal tentacles snapped his masterwork blade and crushed his fusion pistol, before ripping his arms and legs out.

*****

“That was…”

“They were toying with reavers,” Dorn remarked gravely, cutting Magnus’ shocked words.

The primarchs - bar Angron - and their close advisors watched with a mix of grudging respect, disbelief and outright shock at the result of the Eldar incursion. The boosted augur arrays told a clear enough story about the doomed raid, of how Eldar speed, precision and ancient technology had proven useless against the defenders. The raw potency of the Nexus’ ships made a mockery of the xenos’ centuries-honed skills to the point where nobody witnessing the sham of a battle play out would’ve believed it if they had not seen the results for themselves.

“That could have been us,” Maloghurst, equerry of Horus, commented unhappily. “They were holding back during our encounter.”

Horus nodded slowly at the hologram filled with blips and unlabelled contacts. Even in the best scenarios, an Imperial fleet facing off the corsairs would have paid some casualties, and would have taken more than just a few minutes to wipe out the xenos.

This was not the time to feel insulted at knowing how much the Nexus might have pulled their punches. The xenos ships had all been incapacitated or snuffed out by now, in far less time that it took for his expedition fleet to be routed. “We have learned valuable information here.”

If anything, the primarch was sure that there was still more being held back. Magnus was convinced that the Nexus’ homeworld was bound to hold a trove of knowledge in regards to psychic phenomena, and Russ was simply pissed at the amount of ‘maleficarum’ the Nexus held that he couldn’t smash to bits. And that’s discounting the countless Abominable Intelligences being used.

“So, are we going to just keep sitting here?” Leman huffed with annoyance. The Wolf King’s usual bluster was absent ever since Angron’s defeat. For all his bravado, the primarch of the VIth knew when something was too big to even try biting off, let alone chew.

Rogal spoke with his usual stoic curtness. “We should at least await a reply to the message we sent out previously.” With how astropathic messages traveled through the Warp, delivering multiple, differing messages without awaiting a reply could cause more damage through the confusion it might sow.

“Yes…” Magnus hummed, “It would be disastrous if reinforcements arrived and hurled themselves blindly against the Nexus. Especially if more of our brothers are also participating.”

Grave nods answered throughout the command room, and Horus was already imagining the horrendous losses that would follow if Perturabo or Mortarion tried forcing compliance. Or worse, what Sev would think of the Imperium should Konrad show up.

“We could take the opportunity to try once more to seek friendly relations with the Nexus while we wait?” Sanguinius offered. “At the very least, it would justify our continued presence in the system.”

Horus gave an irritated snort. To think that the world breaking legions of the Imperium and their primarchs who cowed mortals and xenos with their mere presence, were loitering at the edge of a system, gingerly mulling over an excuse to stay in some forgotten backwater realm like uninvited vagabonds…

From the frowns around him, most of his brothers were of the same mind, though Magnus’ features were of a more contemplative nature.

As much as the notion annoyed them, the reality of it definitely bit deeper into the primarch of the XVIth. At least for the other legions present, they could take the fight to the Nexus should reinforcements arrive, or if push came to shove. Horus and his sons were all but missing armor and weapons, with only a paltry amount of armory stocks and training equipment to arm them. The other legions could theoretically loan some of their reserves, but the hellish logistics of that was something still being figured out between the legion quartermasters.

Horus’ broken fleet was effectively depleted and would require thorough rearming and resupplying. He was not willing to leave this place just yet though, not when they were all still waiting for further news from the Imperium.

Not when the Emperor might personally attend to this system.

Duty demands that Horus personally apologize for his disastrous failure, and to warn his Father about the Nexus. Honestly, the primarch was beginning to doubt even the Master of Mankind’s capabilities against the eldritch powers of the Nexus, especially considering just how much about it remained unknown.

“The combined might of six legions,” Russ spoke up again, and Horus didn’t know how to feel that his mauled expedition was counted amongst them. “We dismantled stellar empires with far less… And we’re going to just sulk out here and…talk?”

The Red Cyclops threw a heavy-lidded glare at his brother’s way. “Do you have any better recommendations, brother?”

There was a moment where the Wolf King bristled, but he deflated with a sigh and a shake of his head. “No… I hate to admit it, but…” Leman looked around, as if fishing for suggestions. “...nothing comes to mind that doesn’t see our wyrd cut short. I still don’t like it, especially once Perturabo and Mortarion hear of this. Hel, or even the Lion.”

Horus nodded in resigned agreement, and noted that even magnanimous, patient Sanguinius twitched in annoyance at the words.

“Their opinions do not matter,” Rogal said with his usual stoniness. “Decimating our legions for a futile, suicidal attack would only be a greater failure on our part.” The blunt admission made most of the legionnaires in attendance gape in surprise.

“So you truly see the Nexus as unassailable?” Magnus asked, almost rhetorically, judging from the tone of his voice.

The primarch of the Imperial Fists shrugged his shoulders, a telling sign of emotion coming from him. “For now, with the dearth of information about them. This is not some threat that we can simply solve with attrition and stubbornness.”

Horus blinked in surprise. Even Dorn’s sons, First Captain Sigismund and Huscarl Captain Arachmus were staring at their genesire with wide eyes.

Of course, Leman had to butt in with a wry comment. “Something more unmovable than you, brother? Now I’ve seen it all.”

The discussion went for a loop a moment longer before an astropathic message was received. Further Imperial reinforcements were enroute. And leading them was the Bucephelus, the personal flagship of the Emperor of Mankind.

Author's notes: Next update will take a longer while. On the bright side though, it's more than 5 chapters already. Yay!