[center][i][h2] Nimue Arcada and the VII[/h2]
[h3]in[/h3]
[h1]The Campaigns of the Suppression of the Intcom[/h1][/i][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/iiJi4M4.jpg[/img][/center]
“Ah, the sound of music. Do you know what this piece is?” Nimue asked. She sat in a lavishly plush maroon chair, sitting on a decorated wooden table of moderate size and excessive decoration. While usually, in such a scenario she would be in proper, elegant attire fitting of High Tea - the current company were not those she usually would prefer. As such, she was clad in full Artificer Armour, with only her helmet removed - not that it mattered, her psychic aura glowed with such intensity that they likely could only see a golden, sparkling silhouette of her armoured form. Somehow, the chair survived the armour’s weight. The two men and a woman sitting with her, trembling ever so slightly before the golden, glowing giant of a woman, shook their heads. They did not recognise the classical-like melody of notes.

“Of course you would not, being the unwashed barbarians that you are. This is The Vigilitanzi, composed and orchestrated by my very own legion’s Bequa Kynska - a name you three certainly have never heard of unfortunately, but a truly gifted genius of the musical arts, she perhaps would have been Terra’s finest composer had I not poached her from the Operas”. 

The three, still working up their wits and courage after their harrowing journey boarding The Primarch Nimue’s very own flagship, The Llamrei, as well as trying to cease their flinching at the golden light blaring next to them, stayed silent. Nimue, with little concern for her honoured guests' clear discomfort, continued to sip her Fygillian spiced Tea, its aromantic fragrance a favourite of hers. She glanced again at the three guests' own attire in mild disgust and abhorrent curiosity. What an alien ensemble it was… a streamlined coat of singular dark colours, plain white layer beneath...and what seemed to be a singular triangular tie of some sorts, not even a cravat! She had never seen anything like it in the Imperium.

Looking away from her guests faux pause, she, the guests, the various attendants, officers of the Imperial Navy and various Astartes of the Celestial Inheritors hovering around the palace-like viewing deck returned to watching through a great viewing window, at the world below them.

“Ah… Aetva” Nimue breathed.

“Aetvatia”. One of the three, a scornful man with balding brownish-grey hair and a large mustache said, trembling but so enraged that he spoke with some clarity, something almost like defiance. 

“Ohoho, yes, yes” Nimue surprisingly shrugged this petty defiance off - something she had killed others for less. “Aetvatia”. She confirmed. 

And just then, as she sipped again from her tea, a ‘boom’ was heard through the viewing deck, as another bright light shined on the planet's surface. A particularly sizable thermonuclear explosion, if it was a shell from one of the Imperial Fleet’s orbiting cannons or an ICBM fired by the defenders Deathstrike Launcher equivalents, Nimue could not immediately tell.

“Delightful!” Nimue cheered, in a tone that, honestly, should never be heard from a figure like a Primarch. To be frank however, the boom was in fact entirely artificial. Nimue simply found the absence of all sound in the void to be utterly ghastly. 

“Come now, boy” she chastised her guests, particularly the one now looking away from the screen. “See for yourself”.

“For peace’s sake! Decency!” the looking-away man, an awfully thin, shrunken vultrish thing with… what almost seemed to be strange Mechanicus-like optical augments, but also clearly not, begged. “We are asking for a ceasefire! You accepted this meeting! Do you have no decency!?” his voice reached shrill, panicked notes, unseemly to Nimue’s ears and ruining the concert playing behind them.

“This is decency” Nimue said evenly, and, in contrast to her saccharine glee before, was now again direct and cold. “That you are here alive, aboard my vessel - in the presence of my esteemed self, is decency. That I did not execute you, let alone this clearly xenos woman with you for merely existing, decency. That I am even bothering to consider the civilian lives that may or may not be spared in this horrid campaign. Decency”. She said with a sneer.

“So sit. Eat one of the cakes and try the Fygillian Tea, the fragrance is quite exquisite”. Nimue finished.

And so, reluctantly, they did. The immense battle occurring before them continued without concern, every now and then orbital fire seared down from the imperial ships above onto the embattled surface where the Imperial Army and the VII Legion fought valiantly against this backwards world. It was quite peculiar, that they named their world Aetvatia and yet were known as the Intcomese, or Intcomians or some such.

The battle was nearing its end, of course, hence why Nimue was here listening to the pathetic whining of the world’s representatives - still, she was confident the Lady Commanders of the 2nd, 3rd and 5th Hosts (Chapters) could handle the assault of… what was it? The Dyach River? She was not particularly interested in the landmarks of this ugly world. For Engraila’s sake, their cities consisted of.. of… uniformly disgusting pillars of concrete smeared in nothing but glass! As horrid as it was, Nimue was glad that with the river’s defenders soon to be broken, the armoured columns of Baneblades and Fellblades would quite simply encircle the enemies stuck behind the river, and then roll into the planetary capital.

While they peacefully drank their tea and ate the cakes, the xeno women, an abomination if there ever was one, xeno females representing the diplomacy of a supposed ‘human’ world, looked up, straight into the blazing aura of light that would be where Nimue's eyes were. The xeno’s eyes were… Desperate, if Nimue had to guess. but they were stern. She did not even flinch or blink.

“Our terms. We will end the attempts to retake the separatist-occupied Tymo if-”

“Refused, of course”. Nimue interrupted, a bored reflex of utter disinterest. 

“You didn't even hear the proposition. The Foreign Ministry of INT-COM is perfectly willing-”

“To repeat the same nonsensical request it has asked of me for the last twenty times. How many times must I repeat myself? I will accept only the unconditional surrender of the Intcomese”.

“INT-COM” the vulture-like man emphasized the term, before continuing “is only accepting the presumed casus belli of the… ‘The Emperor’s’... Earth Empire” the man said with confused bafflement. 

“We and the rest of the Intercommunity recognise the right of Tymo’s right to self-determination, and while we implore them to reconsider their xenophobic reasoning, if they wish to join with the Earth Empire so desperately as to call on its armadas, then we must accept the decision of its citizens, even if it may lead to Kaos”. He continued.

“I, as a Primarch of Him on Terra, must then implore you to consider what I have said previously. This is not nearly enough. My mandate is to reforge the Human race’s undisputed mastership of the stars. I was perfectly willing to focus my attention on those ghastly Orks but you simply would not learn. your. lesson. I do not care for Tymo’s right to self-determination. It is madness and insanity that you allow things called ‘votes’ and ‘committees’.. And.. what was it, Holo-Celebs... some kind of Bureaucrat? To decide your foreign policy! Your people choose to wage war against my Astartes. The moment you fired that first plasma bolt, that first snubber round. You had forsaken your claim to a mere exchange of some rock.” Nimue was, to once again, repeat herself.

“I offer you the chance to provide complete and unconditional surrender, you will end all resistance and turn in your arms, and then you can save the lives of your ‘citizens’ you love so much”.

Somehow, the mention of one’s love of citizens however alighted something in the eyes… of not the two human men, but the xeno woman. Her alien, greenish-brown and spiney face arose, filled with newfound and sudden, yet inexplicable confidence - enough to slightly surprise Nimue. 

“Yes, we do love our citizens deeply. Moreso than you could possibly know” She said. “I will offer different terms then. We will surrender and lay down our arms on the Dyach and the rest of Aetvatia so long as you permit any and all citizens of the Metrospheres Beta, Gamma and Delta free passage through a neutral, humanitarian corridor to the rest of INT-COM space”.

A slight giggle of laughter burst from Nimue momentarily. “Your xeno friends I assume?”

“Any and all citizens. We do not need to distinguish between free people as you do”.

The others in the room braced themselves. The naval officers and Astartes had once heard a very similar line from a certain hated foe of their Primarch, and so expected this to be the fated end of this vile creature and her treacherous human compatriots. The fated blow, however, did not come. Nimue seemed to be showing uniquely supreme patience. Instead, she simply sipped the last of her tea and nodded politely. Nimue's aura of light flickered ever so slightly, and then actually dimmed, not enough to show any of her features however.

“And why would I allow my enemy to extract their tanks and guns from the battlefield? Why would I allow my enemies’ soldiers to retreat to fight another day?”

“Your army may observe the corridor. No military hardware will leave Aetvatia. Our armies as you have seen are dominated by machines. The overwhelming majority of those who would pass this corridor would be civilians”. It seemed, against all odds, that Nimue was actually listening to this Xeno Diplomat’s reasoning.

“And what of your precious anonymous ‘benefactors’?” Nimue inquired. This time, it was the xeno’s turn to be surprised. A slight, if smug, smile broke across Nimue's face. It seemed they were under the premise that Nimue did not know that some third party were funnelling advanced technology and weaponry to the Intcomese. So far, the only thing that Nimue’s tech-priests could gather was that they were an awfully advanced xenos… supposedly of a centauroid-like frame that made great use of…. Abominable intelligence.

“There is no such thing”.

“If you lie again, I will kill you and every single ‘citizen’ in that Metrosphere of yours”. Nimue said directly. A heavy, pregnant pause followed, as the three INT-COM diplomats looked at each other. Nimue through this exchange of glances could confirm that the xeno woman was in fact their leader - perhaps even a high-ranking leader of that mysterious “Foreign Affairs” entity.

“They… they will have to accept the outcome of this agreement. They share our faith in reason, the struggles of all peoples against Kaos, even your people”. Nimue had no clue what this “Kaos” was, she assumed the xeno meant chaos, but the awkward pronunciation of the Low Gothic made it questionable. Still, she figured she understood the overarching idea. And even better, this parlay had confirmed one thing - The long-suspected third party did truly exist and was arming The Imperium of Man’s enemies with highly advanced weaponry. 

Nimue wasn’t sure why. At that moment, as an act against the hated Xenos, she considered rejecting the agreement for no other reason than to see the determined, earnest face of the xeno collapse into despair… but she didn’t. Perhaps it was out of a feeling of victory from securing the existence of the “third party”. Perhaps it was a desire to hurry the end of this war so that she could join her siblings at the Council before Micholi forced her to kill him. Perhaps it was even guilt that she seriously considered murdering millions just to see a single Xeno suffer.

Nimue did not shake hands with the diplomats, a nod of heads was enough, and they were allowed, unmolested, to leave her flagship. The orbital drumming stopped and the music was silenced. 

Nimue’s war with the INT-COM, the Xeno-lovers and whoever their mysterious benefactors were wasn’t over, merely postponed. A humanitarian reprieve, she was willing to give them.