Estrenelle was deep in thought when the human sitting beside her started waving frantically. Her eyes glowed for a split second as she continued to quietly sip her drink. The Mercaturian humans sure had a knack for brewing interesting concoctions.
The pair observed as Grimskarg thundered across the Tavern before planting himself firmly on the last remaining chair. The chair groaned under the immense weight of the Ork and from both of their points of view, the Ork seemed to be floating mid‑air as the tiny chair disappeared out of sight.
The human was the first to speak.
“Hey, I think that worked,” he said.
“Shiny lightz flash, the ladz move!” replied Grimskarg.
Orks had no concept of time, which had resulted in many missed gatherings much to the annoyance of Estrenelle. That led their human companion to physically attach a contraption onto the Ork. It only had one light. When the light went on, the Ork moved to the Tavern. Simple stuff. Estrenelle had watched in wonder as the human drilled a mounting bracket directly onto the Ork’s chest. It greatly surprised her that the device was still intact after a few weeks.
Estrenelle watched her companions continue to banter and felt a sense of peace washing over her. Back at her Craftworld, she had been shunned by her peers because, apparently, she was too laid‑back. A feat considering her lifespan, which was ten times longer than the average human (and maybe one hundred times for Orks).
The Aeldari were a proud race who once ruled the stars. Now their civilization was on the verge of decline with low birth rates and this particular Craftworld recently suffered high battle casualties due to a massive ambush by Chaos forces. They drifted onto the edge of the Sector almost by chance and had been anchored firmly in place ever since, focusing on rebuilding their devastated population.
With the massive attention on rebuilding the population and their combat forces, it was hardly surprising that Estrenelle’s peers shunned her for her easy‑going and introverted nature. This was where she found the company of her alien companions weirdly endearing.
Perhaps a bit of context is needed here. Estrenelle was laid‑back, but only if viewed through Aeldari lenses. She had over seventy years of training as a Howling Banshee under the personal tutelage of an Exarch. That Exarch perished during the last battle, and Estrenelle quickly withdrew back to her reclusive nature.
Her glass was empty. She raised it and nodded to a nearby hovering Service‑droid. Within moments, the same droid returned with a filled glass. As it passed the trio on the way to its next customer, its exhaust gently lifted the Aeldari’s hood, revealing the slim and tender face underneath.
The Tavern fell silent. Estrenelle could feel every gaze landing upon her. Some felt hostile, some fearful, but most were filled with admiration.
Based on Mercaturian beauty standards, Estrenelle could participate in any random pageant and win it on the spot. Her features were sharp and her pale skin emitted a faint yellowish glow. Her silky red hair, tied in a high ponytail, now fluttered about in the breeze of the Tavern’s air blowers.
Her companions, however, paid her face little attention. Perhaps they had seen each other too often to be amazed by just a face reveal. Or perhaps they had seen the many unsightly versions of this same face covered in puke, dirt, or grime.
Estrenelle paid little heed to the other guests of the Tavern as her attention was fully on her two companions. She let out a small smile, the tiniest lift at the corners of her lips.
She intended to savour every single moment of this gathering.