Chapter 40: The Lower Deck Prison
In the lower decks of the 'Writhing Worm'.
When Fu Qinghai noticed the dazzling white light around him flicker and die, he knew something had gone wrong. With the vox signal weak, Fu Qinghai couldn't determine the exact issue.
He stood still, deep in thought.
The only possibility he could think of was that the enemy had hidden another ship on the far side of the planet, ambushing the 'Sosalan' in orbit and disrupting the teleportation.
But besides the 'Sosalan', the White Scars' 'Shortsword' was also in orbit.
'Forget it. No point overthinking.'
Fu Qinghai pushed aside his doubts and focused. He continued forward. Since he was here, he might as well explore and see what was hidden in the lower decks.
Fu Qinghai approached the first cell, surrounded by a magnetic field and iron bars. To his surprise, a woman knelt inside.
She wore a sleek white bodysuit, her tall, slender figure bound at the wrists and kneeling on the floor. Her striking red hair was tied into a ponytail.
Under the harsh white light, her face was hidden in shadow, her expression unreadable.
An Aeldari.
Fu Qinghai noticed the pointed ears peeking through her fiery hair.
'Is she dead?' Fu Qinghai extended his power sword, its blade inactive, and lifted her chin with the tip.
A pair of cold eyes met his.
"Enjoying the view, human?"
Fu Qinghai nodded. "Quite."
The Aeldari woman's skin was pale, her features sharp. Her cheeks bore crimson war paint, and her forehead was marked with a triangle connected to an inverted "Ψ."
Fu Qinghai retracted his sword, curious. "You speak Low Gothic?"
She looked no older than twenty, but Aeldari lived far longer than humans. She could be centuries old.
The Aeldari girl continued to stare coldly at Fu Qinghai, clearly unwilling to answer.
Fu Qinghai shrugged. "Where's your weapon?"
The girl blinked, surprised. "You're going to release me?"
Fu Qinghai said, "I ask, you answer. Don't answer a question with a question."
'I'm not indulging your arrogance,' Fu Qinghai thought.
The Aeldari were known for their pride. They had once ruled the galaxy, and to them, humans were little more than upright apes from a blue planet tens of thousands of years ago.
The Aeldari girl gritted her teeth and whispered, "It's locked in the wall behind you."
Fu Qinghai turned, his servo-arm unfolding. The welding torch cut through the wall, and the pincers pulled open a hidden compartment.
Inside lay three items: a bizarre bone-white helmet, an oddly shaped pistol, and a slender, curved blade.
'So, she's a Howling Banshee.'
Howling Banshees were elite Aeldari warriors, specializing in high-speed melee combat. While they might lack the raw strength and durability of Astartes, their skill and speed more than made up for it.
These followers of the Aeldari god of war, Khaine, were deadly killing machines.
As for why the Word Bearers had imprisoned her here, Fu Qinghai could guess after seeing the slaughterhouse altar.
Unlike humans, where psykers were one in a million, every Aeldari was a psyker, though their abilities varied.
Capturing Aeldari for sacrifices was far more efficient than hunting human psykers—if you could catch them.
"Turn around," Fu Qinghai ordered.
The Aeldari girl, tempted by the promise of freedom, obediently turned her back. Fu Qinghai extended his sword through the bars, the blade's power field severing her bindings.
"Aren't you afraid I'll kill you once I'm armed?" the girl asked coldly as she stood.
'She's tall…' Fu Qinghai noted, standing nearly two meters tall.
Despite her height, her frame was slender, though Aeldari muscles were said to be far superior to humans.
"Why would you kill me?" Fu Qinghai asked seriously.
"Good question," the girl replied with clear sarcasm. "I'd like to know why humans attack us without reason."
The Imperium of Man was notoriously xenophobic. To them, all non-human races—whether elegant Aeldari or grotesque xenos—were simply "aliens."
Before Roboute Guilliman's alliance with the Aeldari, Imperial forces attacked and drove off any Aeldari craftworlds they encountered.
Fu Qinghai said, "You should ask the High Lords of Terra or any sector governor. I don't represent the Imperium."
With that, he tossed the pistol, blade, and helmet into the cell.
The Aeldari girl stared at the equipment, shocked that Fu Qinghai had actually returned it. She looked up at the Astartes and asked, "You're different from other humans I've met… Why are you helping me?"
Fu Qinghai removed his helmet and spread his arms. "First, I have no prejudice against xenos, beautiful Aeldari. Second, I think we share a common enemy, don't we?"
"You were captured by the Word Bearers. I know what they planned to do with you—use you as a sacrifice to summon daemons."
"And my enemies are these traitors. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. At least for now, we have common interests."
Fu Qinghai spoke calmly and logically, confident in his reasoning. He believed he was a reasonable person. His earlier refusal to indulge her arrogance was just a negotiation tactic. After all, being a pushover never worked.
To add sincerity, he even removed his helmet, mimicking Taral's approach when dealing with mortals. Taral had once told him that mortals felt anxious when speaking to an Astartes through a cold, intimidating helmet. Removing it helped ease their nerves.
Fu Qinghai's only concern was that the Aeldari girl was, well, a girl.
As everyone knew, women—regardless of species—weren't always the most logical.
The Aeldari girl nodded slowly, then knelt to don her equipment.
Fu Qinghai breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
If she'd held a grudge over past conflicts between her craftworld and the Imperium, this could've gone badly. A Howling Banshee was no pushover, and Fu Qinghai had no experience fighting them. He had no idea what tricks they might have.
The girl put on the helmet—a bone-white mask with a high crest and a mane of red hair. The mask's visor and grille gave it a fearsome appearance. Fu Qinghai had heard the grille was a vocal amplifier, working with the helmet's psychic enhancer to unleash the Howling Banshee's terrifying wail.
With her mask on and weapons in hand, the Aeldari girl transformed from an ethereal beauty into a fearsome warrior.
Her slender blade crackled with energy as she sliced through the cell bars. The Howling Banshee glanced at Fu Qinghai, then turned and walked away.
"Hey, where are you going?" Fu Qinghai called after her.
He wanted to remind her that the transport ship was stranded on a barren planet.
"None of your business," the girl's voice, filtered through the mask, was harsh and androgynous. With that, she vanished into the shadows.
'Well, so much for gratitude…' Fu Qinghai shrugged, amused by her indifference.
At least he'd given the Word Bearers a new problem to deal with.
He put his helmet back on and moved to the next cell.
'Let's see what's in this one.' For a moment, Fu Qinghai felt the thrill of opening a mystery box.
The next cell held a skeleton.
'Oh… dead already. My bad.'
Fu Qinghai moved on. Several cells were empty. Finally, in the last cell, he found an old woman in simple robes, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
Hearing Fu Qinghai's footsteps, she looked up and smiled warmly.
Fu Qinghai's face tightened under his helmet.
"Who are you?"
This was a transport ship of traitor Astartes, a prison for special prisoners. Finding an old woman here was unsettling.
"I am Agatha, Agatha Ela Graham. You may call me Prophet Agatha, young man," the old woman said kindly.
'How does she know I'm a young man? I'm wearing a helmet…'
And "Prophet"? This was getting weirder.
Fu Qinghai studied the old woman, confirming she wasn't some xenos in disguise.
"Madam… why are you locked up here?"
The old woman smiled. "Who said I'm locked up?"
'Huh?' Fu Qinghai paused, then pushed the cell door.
It creaked open.
'The door wasn't locked? So, she's here voluntarily?'
Fu Qinghai stepped back, his power sword humming to life.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
The old woman chuckled. "I told you, I'm Prophet Agatha. I came here guided by prophecy. The prophecy spoke of a new entity on this planet that would draw the attention of the Chaos Gods."
After this cryptic statement, she added, "No need to waste time on an old woman like me. I've seen your commander in trouble. You should go help him."
Fu Qinghai frowned, slowly backing away. He couldn't figure out what this mysterious old woman was, but caution was wise.
'Is she talking about Flavorus? Or Ogotai in orbit?'
Fu Qinghai decided to leave the old woman for now and head back to the surface.
*****
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