He scratched at his side absently, the rhythmic throb of the churn in his guts drowning out the distant sound of screams. On the table, the eldar spat curses in its own heathen tongue and struggled against the bonds.
"May Khaine himself be avenged upon you, filthy warp-soaked mon-keigh!"
Sardus looked around. He didn't raise an eyebrow, because his flesh and his armour had long since melded together and made such notions absurd, but he managed to convey the impression that the gesture would have imparted.
"There's really no need to get angry," Sardus replied in halting but passage Asuryn, to the eldar's visible surprise, "I'm not here to harm you. Not in the long run, at any rate."
He lumbered over, dragging up a chair made of mouldering Astartes bones. He sat heavily. The chair had no back - it would have got in the way of his tank. It grumbled faintly in protest but held. Sardus looked at the eldar long and hard.
"It's all about survival, you know," he said, "ultimately, that's all it's ever really about. We live in a universe which tries to kill us all, and it will have its way in the end. But we can forestall that end with the application of science."
The eldar spat.
"What would you know of science, lowly ape-thing?"
Sardus grunted and reached down. From the putrid deck of the ship, he lifted a beautiful blueish gem and held it for the eldar to see. The alien grew deathly still.
"I understand that this is a wonderful piece of science," said Sardus, "an absolutely incredible achievement. A literal defiance of species-wide damnation. From what I have read and observed, the stone resonates in just such a way and holds just the correct properties that it draws eldar aether-matter into it with a pull which, over a short distance, is greater than the pull of the warp. From there, the eldar's fellows release the aether-matter into a purpose built psychically resonant haven within the Craftworld. I offer no mockery when I say that your people were truly among the galaxy's greatest minds to devise such an invention."
The eldar stared at the gem, wide-eyed. He did not plead or beg, which Sardus admired, but the alien's fear could be felt almost physically.
"It's a good solution, I'll grant," he went on, "especially as the alternative is so appalling. The Dark Prince devours your souls if they enter the warp unshielded. And we're not talking about the few moments of pain and surprise that humans feel before they ignite and the warp's predators shred their consciousness. Your people remain conscious indefinitely."
Sardus held the spirit stone out and wagged it, like a teacher waving a book at a stubborn student.
"But, I started this discussion by talking about survival. And what does an eldar do to survive if his spirit stone is lost?"
The eldar's eyes widened and he might have spoken then, but Sardus was too fast. He hurled the stone against the wall. Astartes strength and the warp tainted malice of the ship did all the work. The stone shattered. The eldar stared at the remains in utter desolation.
"Now," said Sardus, "we can have a proper discussion. Let us examine the facts. You are trapped and weaponless on an enemy ship, surrounded by what you would call corruption and disease. And you cannot allow yourself to die. It is not a matter of honour or loyalty. You must make a determination about how to survive. As a scientist, I wish to help you make the best choice. I am also, after a fashion, a gardener. A gardener understands that his plants will die without the correct care and that a plant who stings is still a thing of beauty."
He stood up heavily and clumped over to a workbench. With surprising dexterity, he began to examine vials of unmarked liquid.
"What insane riddles are these?" demanded the eldar, though his voice was empty and flat. Sardus glanced over his shoulder.
"That feeling? That is despair. You are damned, and you can conceive of no way back. I can offer you no way out, before you ask. But what I can do is to help you recognise that being damned is not the worst thing that can happen to you."
The eldar regained a little of his former anger.
"You speak madness!"
Sardus snorted a small laugh.
"Very probably. But that's kind of the point I'm making. We need to stop thinking rationally in an irrational universe."
Sardus returned to the table and loomed over the eldar. He held a seemingly innocuous vial of clear liquid in his armoured hand.
"A choice lies in your future. In the one case, you can continue to deny the nature of the universe around you and the events unfolding. In that case, you will die a very unpleasant death, and that will be only the beginning of your suffering. In the other case, you must accept a truth which will be difficult for you. I am no insensitive to that. You must embrace the knowledge that the world you have known is a hysterical lie smeared across the truth. Decay, debasement, and degradation are inevitable. In resisting these things, we give ourselves pain and heartbreak. By embracing them, we must face a moment of unhappiness. But beyond that, we are ironclad. We will survive much longer. And when death finally comes, the Ur-father himself will welcome us to the Garden. Embrace the Ur-father. Embrace the force that the world hides behind the name Nurgle. Your soul will be damned, but you will rejoice in it. Survival, you see?"
The eldar spat.
"Never!"
Sardus shrugged, the motion tectonic in his corroded power plate. The stench rolling off of him killed the eldar's defiance and he fell to coughing.
Sardus regarded him for a moment longer before grabbing the alien's face and forcing the vial of liquid down his throat.
"Call when you change your mind," he said mildly. He lumbered back to his workbench as the screaming began. the churn in his guts continued to work slowly, unhurried.
Eventually, the eldar changed its mind.
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