¡± harboring or withholding information regarding one he knows to be touched by the warp¡±
Sentence: ¡°will be whipped, have his eyes put out, and then hung until dead. The Emperor will have his revenge on the unclean denizens of the warp.¡± ¡°Any soldier who, through his own will or not, becomes touched by the warp in any way and becomes impure and a danger to security, will be the beneficiary of the Emperor¡¯s Mercy.¡±The Emperor''s Mercy, of course, being a bolt round to the face, conveniently placed there by the nearest commissar. This...This is not what I wanted. This is not what I wished for. Using my psychic power around the wrong people would spell death for me. But for me to know which people were safe and unsafe, I would have to use my powers. And every time psychic powers were used, there was a chance that some malicious entity would take notice and decide that life would be less boring if they interfered with the warp user. In theory, anything could happen, from the area starting to smell of sulfur and rotten eggs, to becoming an unbound demon host, allowing a lesser or greater demon to tear a hole between realities and manifest itself in realspace, consuming the psyker in question in the process. It was a dangerous power to wield and even more dangerous power to actively use. This... This meant I had to dive back into the underhive at some point. But I would have to find a way out of my current PDF outfit to do so, and preferably one that did not involve me faking my death. The lift continued rattling but it had become lighter and the air was fresher, so I was nearing the surface once more. It was time to put my own plans behind me and fall into the role of a regular PDF trooper for as long as it was needed to ensure my safety. Well, safety was a relative concept, but a role that would not get me executed at first chance. As the lift reached the top and I opened the door, I was assaulted by the sounds and smells of the bustling civilian area of the hive city under Imperial control. Vendors, beggars, whores, doomsday prophets, drug peddlers, muggers, regular citizens, and everything in between made up the flowing crowd that seemed to be neverending. Nobody spared me more than a passing glance, only briefly stopping on me to wonder why a PDF trooper would have been alone in the underhive, but there was too much going on for me to draw any meaningful attention, so I made my way towards the barracks area. There were bound to be a few campfires going, where I could charge my power packs. A quick rummaging of my backpack how revealed that I only had the half-charged packs in my weapons to spare, the other 10 were depleted. If I got in another fight before I got to charge them, I would be more than useless. I would have to stay nearby while they were charged. Guardsmen and PDF troopers were downright infamous for the ability to "acquire" items and war gear that was not their own. Thieves and pickpockets back home never even came close to this level of expertise. The black market among the regular troopers, as a result, was brimming with everything from extra rations to body modifications that would make a mechanicus adept squirt copious amounts of oil in pure excitement. I had thought of getting in on the action, but I had no idea what services I could offer that others could not offer at a cheaper price, on account of their connections to... well, anyone. I would have to test my new "powerpack grenades" and see how effective they were. Perhaps I could make a black market business of modifying gear for others. I had not met any people able to modify technology yet, but then again, technology was very weird in this universe. My lasrifle wouldn''t fire if I did not say the prayers of loading and unloading when putting in a new powerpack, for example. It was a weird way of things, but I went with the flow. Nothing else to do if I wanted to live. It only took 15 or so minutes for me to make the walk back to the designated barracks section of the hive where I quickly found a nice campfire to charge my packs in. I would have to wait a few hours for them to be properly charged and I saw the troopers that passed by sending avarice-filled glances toward the pile of power packs, but a single look at me was enough to make them keep walking. Not that I was a particularly intimidating character to look at, but nobody wanted trouble with their fellow troopers, and while everyone stole from everyone, it was a completely different thing if you got caught doing it. It was during this waiting period that I heard the step of hard leather boots approaching, in that controlled and foreboding manner that was unique to the commissars. It was hard to suppress the instinct to look up, but a commissar''s attention was not something you wanted under any circumstance, and since just looking at them could illicit an impromptu "morale improvement" session. As they got closer, I could feel the tension in my body rise and see it in the troopers that were visible in the corner of my eye. He was walking too slowly to be going anywhere, which meant he was looking for someone or something. I breathed a silent sigh of relief as he passed by me, but it was short-lived. Barely a half dozen steps past where I was sitting with my back turned, watching the fire and my power packs, I heard him come to a stop and then the gravel under his boot crunching as he spun on his heel. Five more steps and a voice rang out behind me "Where have you been, trooper?" Ah, shit! Chapter 16: If grim dark is what I get, then grim dark is what I shall become. I scrambled to my feet as quickly as I could, making sure I made the sign of the Aquila as I did. As I made eye contact with the Commissar I noticed how old he was. His face was a mask of wrinkles and old scars, his skin was greying and his hands looked crooked and gnarly. But he had a gaze of sharp steel and right now his entire focus was centered on me. "Ave Imperator, Commissar!" I quickly said. "I have been indisposed on account of serious injury, but since receiving the attention of a Medicae* I find myself once more able to perform my duties in the name of the Emperor!" Sure, I was laying it on a bit thick, but the Commissars knew the power they wielded and the fear it inspired in the men around them. In any case, I would rather be accused of embellishing the truth a bit, than of trying to shirk my Imperial duties. The Commissar narrowed his eyes in suspicion. This was not his first rodeo. "Why have you not reported to your company commander?" The question was fired at me like a bolt, but I had my answer ready. "My power packs were almost all used up, Commissar, and I had to charge them back up before I could be of proper use in combat. I wished to report back for duty, ready to take on my responsibilities from the moment I stood in front of my commander." Shit, I just hoped it was good enough to avoid a firing squad. The grizzled old Commissar stared me down for a few seconds as if trying to recall my face before he spoke again. "I remember you from the initial charge into the hive. You rallied the troops around you and pushed the objective, allowing us to gain a foothold." I recalled a Commissar stopping, actually stopping, during the charge into the city, to stare at me when I used my rallying ability, "To me brothers". I had been worried back then, and now those worries returned with a vengeance, as it dawned on me that an overzealous Commissar would execute me on principle. I couldn''t be an unsanctioned psyker if I was dead. A crude, yet extremely pragmatic and effective way of looking at things. The Commissar continued staring me down for what felt like an eternity and I saw his pistol hand twitch several times as if he was fighting an instinct to blast my body into a pile of goo on the ground. Finally, he spoke again, "We will meet again trooper, and soon at that. Do not die in the meantime. The Emperor has a glorious death planned for you!" With that, he spun on his heel and walked away at a brisk pace, making his retinue jog to keep up with him. It wasn''t until he walked away that I noticed the slender, red-haired woman that followed him, and the only reason I noticed her was on account of her turning her head back to me and winking as she walked away. It was the mysterious woman who, for lack of a better word, used me, though I must admit I do not mind in the slightest... Not counting the lung damage, of course. But what struck me was not the fact that she was here, but the fact that she was wearing the uniform of a high-ranking member of the Ordo Hereticus.** I slowly exhaled as I watched them disappear in the distance and I noticed my hands trembling from suppressed fear of dying. I needed to find a way out of the PDF, and fast. Every interaction with anyone above the rank and file soldiers was potentially dangerous for me. My knowledge of this universe was not complete, nor perfect, and eventually, I WOULD slip up on something rudimentary which would cause enough suspicion about me to grant me a very swift execution, maybe with a bit of extreme torture and mind-probing before I died. Add to that the worries of having had a romantic encounter with a freaking inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus I was well and truly fucked. I spent the remaining time waiting for my power packs to charge, trying to get my emotions under control. It was becoming too much, I was getting overwhelmed, always on edge, always on the watch, and always mindful of my actions and words. The stress was getting to me. As soon as the first pack was charged I immediately began fiddling with it to give my mind something else to think about. I soon figured out that if I was to turn them into power pack grenades, I would have to use them immediately after changing the settings, as it happened by overloading the pack, rather than change any settings on it, so there went the idea of using them as a black market selling items. Unless..... I pushed the thought back, it would have to wait. My power packs were charged and I had no desire to give the commissars any sort of reason to cast more suspicion my way. My rallying of the troops had already made them center their crosshairs on me and the grizzled one that had just talked to me had made it plain that plans were being made that involved me. With a heavy sigh, I gathered my things and packed my pockets and backpack, found a clean(ish) water source to refill my primary canteen and the ones I had looted as well, double-checked my weapons and equipment, and hurried back to the area where my unit was currently stationed. It took me almost 2 hours to reach the area, as I got lost in the hive on several occasions, These things were not built as hives, to begin with, and the city planning was all but non-existent. When I finally arrived I was greeted with extreme indifference, if not outright hostility. I shouldn''t be surprised. The inquisitor that had infiltrated the PDF troopers had been the object of desire for almost every man and many of the women in my unit and seeing her decide on me had been the perfect soil for resentment and envy on their part. No doubt they had hoped I was dead and gone, thereby making it a possibility that they would be the next lucky pick of what they thought to be a regular trooper like the rest of us. Knowing what I did now, I also realized just how much danger I had been in last night. A single misunderstood word or gesture, the slightest inclination that I was more than a regular trooper with fervorous faith, and she would have killed me with a casual ease that sent shivers down my spine. I quickly fell into the rhythm of things once more. Guard duty, patrol duty guard duty, rest and refuel, repeat. Throw in the occasional skirmish with hive gangers so drugged up they thought they had a chance against established bulkheads of bunkers and trenches with 3 or 4 fallback positions that left the enemy extremely exposed, should they decide to take the defensive positions given up by us., and probing attacks from the rebellious elements within the hive. It was obvious they were being orchestrated as they never attacked for long or with any commitment, and they never attacked the same target twice. They were either searching for a weak spot or trying to get a sense of our defensive capabilities. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. The days passed, I got an occasional kill during the attacks, I waited in a more or less permanent state of stress for the commissars words to come true, and... Nothing happened. And it was slowly tearing me apart. I found myself taking more chances during engagements, I became more snappy and aggressive toward my fellow troopers, and I stopped caring about the people I killed. About the lives they may have lived and the people that might be waiting for them. The waiting was eating away at me, as was the constant lure of psychic powers, but with an Inquisitor around, you would have better luck pissing against a strong wind and hoping to not get wet than you would be finding me using my witchsight, I also threw my last 10 skill points into luck, putting it at a very solid,30. With luck like that, I would not have to worry about it for a while and I could focus on my other skills for the next few levels. I also started pilfering supplies with the same enthusiasm as the rest of the soldiers around me, but since alcohol was hard to hide unless you had accomplices, I opted for his second desired item and focused on stealing, looting, pickpocketing, scamming, and pilfering Soylens Viridians to the very best of my ability. It reached a point where I managed 2 bottles of alcohol which I used to barter for an extra backpack to store my loot in. Through trial and error, I had managed to figure out the lock on the room I was in, giving me a safe place to keep said backpack, though I DID pack my bed with it in such a way that it looked like a sleeping person. After a week, I had 2 days of rest coming up and I decided to go back to the underhive to settle the first part of the greedy doctors deal. It was not hard to find a dozen or so people that wanted to go get drunk in the underhive and as a large group, we would be fairly safe. The ride down was fairly uneventful and mostly silent. The only thing binding all of us together was the uniform, but I had a plan. The others had questioned my backpack, but I had shrugged it off with a comment about needing to trade a few things. I took to the front when we got down and quickly found the same bar as before. Figuring I could use a few friends among the troopers as well as a reputation boost, I walked up to the bar and ordered 6 bottles of amasec, a potent, wine-like alcoholic beverage that was all around popular. Sure, underhive quality was nothing to write home about, but it smelled infinitely better than the rotgut I had partaken in last time. bringing the bottles down to the tables that had been cleared of drunks and junkies, and pushed together for the group. The smiles on the faces of my fellow troopers told me I had made a good choice in alcohol. "First round is on me!" I declared and put the bottles on the table, helping myself to a hearty swig in the process. It would still be considered poor quality back home, but if rotgut was underhive standard, then this was indeed a proper wine in comparison. Made from grains, strong enough to use as a firebomb, but quite pleasant in its taste, it was a drink I could get used to drinking. I excused myself after a few minutes and headed for the doctor. I was stopped by a very bored and very big guard as soon as I got to the door."Where do you think you are going? The doctor is busy!" "Then you can explain to the grumpy goat why he must continue eating corpse starch when I get better things for him!" I snapped back. I was already done with this whole thing. the doctor had to go. This might only be food, but I could have traded it for other things that would have proven immediately useful to me. "This grumpy goat would prefer you to show a bit of respect!" Came the voice of the doctor from inside and I pushed the guard aside. "Respect is earned, not given," I stated just to piss him off, and it worked. "You better be bringing something good for me!" He snapped, and as I opened the backpack, I saw him eying the rations with obvious delight. "At least you know how to listen when given directions, WHICH IS MORE THAN I CAN SAY FOR SOME PEOPLE!" The last words were directed over his shoulder, toward the door. The guard was not in as high favor as he could have wished, it would seem. "I hope this is a good start, at least?" I said, trying to play to the belief that I had accepted my fate, and he confirmed. "A few more runs like this and I will have to start paying you. I foresee a very profitable partnership between the 2 of us" The doctor declared as he was already munching on a ration bar. I saw no reason to correct him, but If that was how he felt about this situation, I could already think of a few ways to get out of this situation, but that was in the long term. For now, it was all about appearances. "If you say so. Are we done? I have people waiting for me." I asked and after he nodded, I turned around and left immediately. I quickly made it back to the bar where several more bottles had found the table, and I went by the bar to get another fresh batch before I sat back down. I was greeted with a lot more vigor than initially, proving once more that a small gesture of goodwill combined with some booze was still a good way to worm your way into people''s good graces. I was surprised though, that it didn''t take more than a few bottles of amasec to change their opinion of me so drastically. I spent the next few hours just having a few drinks and relaxing with the others, and as we packed up to go back topside, I quickly bought 2 extra bottles that were stuffed into my backpack. One of them might have been a more expensive bottle than most of the ones available, and I would be lying if it wasn''t to make a good impression on the redhead inquisitorial agent. Dangerous as she was, I had seen her from a different side and I had decided I would enjoy this life while it lasted. I had already beaten the average lifespan of a PDF trooper, so might as well. And back to the daily routine, I went. On my next trip, I added a power pack I managed to win during gambling. There was a myriad of different games being played in the soldiers'' free time, mostly dice or cards, and all the different cultural backgrounds provided by the literal million worlds that made up the Imperium***, provided me with all the excuses I needed to introduce games of my own. Poker quickly gained popularity since many could play at once and it required you to think when playing, a valued trait as it tricked you into forgetting your bleak existence for a few hours, chasing that dopamine rush of winning. What most of the new troopers didn''t know, was that in poker, you do not play the cards, but rather the people at the table. It allowed me to make winnings in Imperial crowns rather than goods for bartering, slowly giving me the need to store the growing sum of money in the bottom of my extra backpack. It also made me worried about thievery and I set about trying to figure out a way to keep things safe. I ended up taking one of my frag grenades and tying the top of the pack to the safety pin before carefully closing the entire thing. Unless you knew it was there, you would never discover the trap before the telltale *PING* as the striker lever activated the chemical delay inside the grenade. At that point, the explosion would be exactly 2 seconds away. The first time I put the whole thing together, I got a new notification. SKILL GRANTED: IMPROVISED TRAP-MAKING.TIER 1, LEVEL 1. How interesting. I got a feeling this would be a very useful skill to have. Leveling it would definitely be in my best interest, looking forward. Maybe I could even figure out a way to combine it with my power pack grenades. If only I could figure out a way to make the explosion happen when I wished for it, and not on an overload timer. One morning, after rigging my backpack trap and heading for my designated post, she was there again. Red hair, standard PDF trooper uniform, and a crooked smile on her face, she was standing at the spot where my watch partner would be standing, watching me and waiting. This was going to be quite an interesting day. Chapter 17: A very special offer. I groaned mentally as I laid my eyes on her. It was a weird mix of emotions, on one hand, I still desired her. The memories of our night together were still very livid in my mind, and her position within the Ordo Hereticus would explain her access to Kyxa, but her position as either a full-on inquisitor or an infiltration agent working for an inquisitor, filled me with anxiety. "You look like you could go for another round" She called out as I got closer. So it was a friendly visit so far. "I would not be opposed to the idea" I replied as I got closer. "Though, knowing what I know now, I am a bit surprised to see you here" She got a serious look on her face as I said that and I wondered if I had gone too far. "You have been watched ever since your first rallying cry back on Karrik. At first, we suspected you were an unsanctioned psyker, but after our little rendezvous, it became clear that this was not the case. So I decided I might as well have a bit of fun in the completion of my duties. You were my first deathworlder, but with the endurance your kind has, most definitely not the last." She winked at me as she said this, despite the serious implications of her words. Was that why my danger instinct was always tingling ever so slightly? "So what has warranted this pleasant surprise during my duties?" I asked. If I had gotten my psychic powers just 2 days before, I would not have lived through that night and the realization made me sweat with nervous energy. "The Ordo Hereticus took a special interest in you. Why do you think your life was saved?? You might be a good lay, but not THAT good, trooper." She said with a voice full of mirth. This made me think. If the Ordo Hereticus saved my life, they would most likely want something in return. But what could the inquisition want from me? I was just a PDF trooper in their eyes. "I think you better explain to me exactly what it is the inquisition wishes of me, so that I may do my best to fulfill their wishes," I said in a measured tone. This was deeper than random conversation, though it was cleverly disguised as such. The subtle body language told its own story and my investment in perception was paying off. I couldn''t pinpoint exactly how I knew or what made me aware, but I knew she had a hidden agenda with this conversation. She fixed me with a cold stare and all of a sudden I saw her for what she was. A trained killer, obedient to the point of fanaticism, willing to kill as casually as one would drink water, and completely focused on achieving her mission. "As you well know," She began "The Ordo Hereticus are wary about the rogue traders* and the potential for heresy that is present within their occupation. However, it is extremely difficult to keep track of these Imperial servants, on account of their rather special field of work. This has in turn led the Ecclesiarchy to conclude that rogue traders, working for the Inquisition, is the only way to get some semblance of control over the situation. This is why I am here. You and a select few others have been chosen as possible candidates for such a position. And between you and me, you are in a rather favorable position. You have the ability to rally soldiers around you, a valued trait since you would often find yourself without any other support that can fit on a starship. And of course, there would have to be an Inquisitorial agent on board, to report back at regular intervals. And since I already know how pleasant company you can be, I have taken the liberty of recommending you very highly. It would make the travels so much more bearable." She said the last words with a voice that was laced with promises of reenacting our last night together and I had to kick myself mentally in the groin to not start grinning like a madman. "Wait," I interjected, " YOU are the inquisitorial agent chosen to travel with said rogue trader?" ''"Yes." She confirmed. "Why else would I be the one to tell you about this?" "You have a good point there. Was that also the reason to sleep with me?" I asked. I was not sure I wanted to hear the answer, but it was out there now. "No, that was just a pleasant way to pass the time. Your possessions have also been searched multiple times. Nice trap by the way, almost went off last time. So far, nothing but indications of a faithful Imperial soldier. But you already know this. You are still alive." She explained This gave me pause. It was true that the fact I was still breathing was more than enough proof they had not found anything wrong with me. But that did not exclude the possibility of them finding out I actually WAS an unsanctioned psyker. And it wouldn''t even be a quick death. As an unsanctioned psyker, they would most likely round me up on one of the black ships** where I would eventually be sacrificed to the Emperor to keep him alive for another day. "So what is this? A test of how I am to spend any prolonged time with?" I asked, trying to find her angle. "Partly." She confirmed. "And partly to see what kind of company you are. And finally, I wish to observe you doing your job. It will tell me a lot about your sense of duty." I had to agree with that logic. If they for some insane reason should choose to grant me the status of Rogue Trader, I would experience a level of freedom that was very seldomly experienced in this universe, even by those at the highest echelons of power. Perhaps my Luck stat was finally doing something else besides keeping me alive. Not that I was complaining, I appreciated not being dead. But a way out of this hell of a situation would also be good. On a whim, I asked, "Who are the other candidates?" "It has been elected that the candidates will not be introduced to each other, nor be made aware of the other candidates'' identity, to avoid any foul play." She said smoothly. "But let''s not talk about that. Why not come over here and let me know if you missed me?" Her mischievous smile spelled promises of endless joy, but something she said moments before made me hesitate. "I DID miss you terribly, but right now I am on guard duty and I cannot shirk that responsibility. As much as I want to, it cannot happen while I am on the job." I said, my groin screaming at me in protest and my brain padding my shoulder for being the responsible adult. Apparently, it was the right thing to say because not a moment later she pulled out a small notepad and immediately wrote down a few words. "Well done, You managed to avoid being turned into a servitor. You would be surprised how many fail that test." There was something about her chipper tone of voice that told me she wasn''t joking and I once again shuddered with suppressed fear and anxiety. Just how far did the power of this woman reach? We spent the shift making idle small-talk and watching for hive gangers or heretic troopers. Unsurprisingly, it was a boring watch with nothing happening, except the dozens of soldiers swinging by and trying to make their move on the redhead. I found it all quite entertaining as she was quite adept at shooting down their hopes and dreams without being mean about it. It didn''t stop them from staring daggers at me as they walked away, but I was not surprised. I had already been through that mill the first time she showed interest in me. I took great care in praying diligently and on time, doing my hardest to make it seem like a natural and ingrained part of my daily routine and I noticed her well-hidden satisfaction when I excused myself for prayers, moments before it was time. I prayed with fervor and sincerity, silently praying that it would be enough to satisfy any doubts she might have had. The rest of the day passed in peaceful boredom and when the changing of the guard occurred I gathered my things as she came over to me. "See you tomorrow, trooper." She said and turned to walk off. "I still don''t know your name!" I exclaimed after her and she answered without turning around. "It''s Elris. See you, Bj?rk": Wait, how did she know my name? I never told her and nothing in my gear carries my full name. I narrowed my eyes and followed her with my eyes. more on instinct than through conscious choice, I activated witchsight without thinking and was immediately rewarded with a heavy aura around Elris. She was a psyker!! As soon as I realized what I had just done, I immediately turned it off again, but she had already noticed. She had stopped and was looking around, trying to find the source of the new psychic energy that came into play around her. Just as quickly I resumed picking up my stuff and casually walked away, doing my best to not reveal the sheer terror that was running through my body. Every instinct screamed to look behind me and check if she was looking at me, but nothing would make me seem more guilty at the moment. than checking her reaction. I made it back to my small room without any trouble and I threw myself on my cot, but I couldn''t sleep. I had been so close to ending my own life without even thinking about it. I needed to get better control of myself. I didn''t have the slightest idea of how to do that, but I tried meditation back home before I was transported here, so it was worth a try. I settled into a sitting position and closed my eyes, trying to find a calm center within myself. I focused my mind on my breathing and let go of everything around me. Slowly, gradually, the stress and anxiety that had built up during the day left me and allowed me to relax mentally. When I finally felt relaxed enough to open my eyes, Elris was sitting in front of me, legs crossed and a smile on her face. "I have never seen a trooper focus their mind that way. Usually, only the Astartes will spend their time doing that. You ARE a strange one!" She said thoughtfully as she looked me over. "Well, you DID throw a lot unto my plate today. I needed to clear my mind so I can focus on my duties." I replied with a half smile. "Well, one of your duties is waiting for you to get to it. Unless you were lying when you said you missed me?" She was coy and playful as she pulled away from me, but it was all a ruse. She was just as eager as I was, and I only hesitated for a moment when she pulled out another stick of Kyxa, but I decided to put my trust in my new cybernetic lungs, and the high brought every sensation up to 11. __________________ When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was that I was not alone. An arm was draped over my chest and my face was hidden behind a mess of red hair. So she stayed this time. I was not complaining, but I did wonder why. Slowly and gently, I untangled myself from her and slipped into my uniform pants, made my way outside, and started looking for a Quartermaster to get some recaf from. It didn''t take long and the short line in front of him quickly diminished. When it was my turn, I noticed a glint of recognition in the eyes of the man on the other side of the table. Great, another envious soul to deal with. "I need recaf, extra rations, and my daily portion of water," I told him. Water in hive cities was controlled by the water guild which was in charge of distributing every drop of water in a hive city. From the imported ice water sipped on by nobles to the run-off sluice used in the industries of the hive, everything went through the water guild. Not that the Imperium lacked the means to get water from them, but there was a tight hold on every drop. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. "No can do, supply restrictions prevent me from handing out anymore without special authorization. But there ARE ways to expedite the process." He said with a sly smile while rubbing his thumb and index finger against each other in a universal sign for payment. With a heavy sigh, I started the bartering process, but the quartermaster seemed very intent on ripping me off in the most extraordinary way. and I couldn''t seem to get anything near a decent deal. After about 10 minutes of the idiot becoming more and more outrageous in his demands, I noticed a commissar walking just within earshot and I had a brilliant if despicable, idea. "NO, I WILL NOT PAY YOU TO HAND OUT MY DAILY RATIONS!" I bellowed loud enough for the commissar to hear. The quartermaster turned pale and made hidden gestures for me to quiet down, but it was too late. The commissar had heard me and was stomping over toward the quartermaster booth with his bolt pistol already drawn and a scowl on his face so menacing I almost felt sorry for the poor fool. "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS? EXPLAIN YOURSELF!" He demanded from the quartermaster as he leveled the bolt pistol at his head. "Nothing but a simple misunderstanding, Commissar, I assure you!" The man stammered, "I misunderstood the intent of this trooper and thought he asked for more rations than he was allotted, which of course would require payment. But now I understand that he only wished to be given what is rightfully his." As he spoke, he was manifesting things from behind the counter of his booth and putting them on the table in front of me. Even the recaf I had requested was put there. "A small apology for the misunderstanding." He said as he placed the last recaf. "No apology needed, it was an honest mistake. How many crowns do I owe for the recaf?" I asked, and the Commissar kept switching his gaze between the 2 of us. The quartermaster named a price that was many times lower than what he demanded from me a minute ago and the commissar seemed... Well, not satisfied, but placated at least, and he walked away, still clutching his bolt pistol. As soon as he was out of earshot, I turned back to the quartermaster. "Next time you try to rip me off, I am not saving your fat ass!" I snarled at him and he could only nod meekly as I gathered my things and headed back to my room. I had barely made it inside before I heard Elris speak, "For a moment I thought you had repaid me the favor of disappearing before you woke up" She sounded like she had just woken up and she stretched out on my cot, the blanket sliding provocatively down from her ample chest, revealing that she slept in the nude, a fact that had escaped me when I woke up. How, I did not know, but her eyes lit up at the sight of the recaf. "Oooh, I am definitely recommending you for the position!" She exclaimed and made grabby hands at the mug in my hand, but I pulled it away from her and smiled. "What are you offering in return?" I asked and she was completely floored by the question. It was obvious she was used to being in charge, but I wanted to flip that script. She needed to learn that I was not going to roll over whenever she whistled. "Well," She said as she leaned backward, exposing herself to me. "I can''t offer you anything you have not had before, But I think you will enjoy it just as much." And that was all it took for me to hand over the cup. Damn my male biology and its influence over my mental faculties!! She sipped the recaf with a delighted look on her face and I decided to distract myself by making breakfast. not that it required a lot of work, field rations are fairly simple and can be eaten cold, but it gave me something to think about, other than the naked woman drinking recaf 3 feet away. After breakfast, she slipped out of my room after getting dressed and I sat down to take a breather. I was slightly on edge when she was nearby, the revelation she was a psyker filled me with dread. If I wanted to explore the psychic possibilities, I either needed to convince her I was a sanctioned psyker, which was next to impossible, try and train on my own without getting caught, which was even less likely, or... get rid of her at some point. Of course, I could always just forget everything about my psychic abilities, but being a psyker always presented a danger just by being one. And the best weapon against the denizens of the warp was, quite ironically, psychic powers fueled by the warp. I would like to avoid the murder of an inquisitorial agent if at all possible, but once out among the stars, anything could happen. Of course, there was a possibility she would be fine with my psychic powers, but then again. The Ecclesiarchy was one of, if not THE most fanatical faction in this entire universe, AND their Inquisition had almost unlimited freedom of power. They could even order around Astartes chapters, something that otherwise was unthinkable unless you were looking for suicide by chainsword. I decided to push the musing aside and quickly downed the last of my ration before I grabbed my gear and headed out for another day of patrol duty. But it was not to be. My commanding officer found me on the way and told me I had been given a couple of days off to spend as I saw fit. Not wanting to challenge my luck I hurried away and decided to start the first part of my plan to get rid of the troublesome blackmailing doctor in the underhive. I had to sacrifice a power pack to start the plan, but it would be a good expenditure. A quick trip into the underhive and the doctor''s face lit up at the sight of the powerpack and the extra rations, he inspected the powerpack, found it to be functional and fully charged, then looked at me as he said " I half expected you to bring me something broken and empty, not a powerpack in excellent condition and fully charged as well." I snorted at his comment. "Maybe you just forgot how it feels to work with people that possess a minimum of integrity. You saved my life, the least I can do in return is to properly deliver on our agreement." The insult did not go over his head and he cocked an eyebrow at me before he started laughing. "You deathworlders and your strange sense of honor. Not that I''m complaining. If you can get more power packs, my payment will be due in a very short time." I just smiled and nodded. He thought me complacent and agreeable. Perfect. The next delivery would be his death. As I was about to make my way back to the surface, I could hear rhythmic stomping approaching rapidly and I hurried over to a bar and ordered a bottle of amasec. Better to appear as a trooper out for a drink. moments later, a squad of Arbites*** came running rapidly around the corner, their carapace armor donned, despite being reserved for direct combat, and the mix of bolt guns, shotguns, grenade launchers, suppression shields, and, power mauls already in their hands and ready to fire. They continued toward the deeper slum of the underhive, so it would seem a raid was in progress and I wanted as little to do with that as possible, so I stashed the bottle in my backpack and hurried on my merry way to the lift. It wasn''t until I reached the lift that a thought hit me. The arbites ran straight past us. Despite there being numerous shops selling all manner of illegal items and controlled substances, they had run right past us with a clear goal in mind. But there had been no sounds of fighting. The Arbites only moved with such purpose when they were trying to catch someone or something, completely unaware which usually only happened with gang lords and heretical dealings. And since the gang lords were quite safe, that left only the heretical dealings as the possibility. Which meant I needed to get my happy little ass out of there as fast as possible! The lift had barely been underway for 1 minute before an explosion could be heard deeper in the underhive and the muffled sounds of heavy gunfire followed. Thank the Emperor I made it out of there. After waiting and listening to the sounds of gunfire disappearing in the darkness below me, I reached the top and almost walked into Elris and the Commissar from the last time she was wearing her Inquisitors uniform. "The strange one!" The old commissar growled and give me a critical stare. "What could you possibly be doing in the underhive, trooper!" "Just securing provisions for myself and a lucky lady, commissar," I said as I made the Aquila across my chest. No reason to risk a public flogging for failure to salute. Elris, standing behind the commissar, smirked at my words and winked at me. "Provisions, he says!" The Commissar exclaimed theatrically. "Well, why don''t we go over those provisions together!" "With pleasure, Commissar," I said compliantly and opened my backpack. The only thing down there was a couple of rations, my extra power packs, and the bottle of amasec I had just purchased. The commissar''s eyes lit up at the sight of the bottle and I knew he would confiscate it before I had shown it to him. No matter, this was the basic stuff anyway. I had a better vintage stuffed away in my room, well hidden in my dirty clothes. Elris''s confession to having rummaged through my belongings had made me change some of my habits. Thankfully, the precious bottle was hidden in the dirty clothes as soon as I brought it back. "I better confiscate that bottle, trooper. No reason to risk you falling for temptation and getting drunk on duty!" He growled again, and I had to agree with that logic, despite me not being much of a drinker. I had already seen 2 soldiers get caught being drunk on sentry duty and the punishment was flogging followed by shooting. Why on earth they bothered flogging them before they shot them I will never understand, but then again, the Imperium is not exactly known for its logic and good common sense. Elris looked crestfallen as the Commissar stuffed the bottle inside his jacket, but I just kept smiling. She must have caught on that I had something planned so she just cast an inquisitive look in my direction. I didn''t react to it, but I spoke again. "Thank you for relieving me of the temptation Commissar. May I be dismissed? I have prayers to attend to." As much as he wanted to search my person for more items to confiscate or execute me for having, the Commissar could not in good conscience deny me my prayers in front of an inquisitorial agent. Reluctantly, he sent me on my way, but Elris hung back to talk to me. "A shame, I would have liked to enjoy that bottle with you." She said. I knew she was being nice, her position afforded her the economy to acquire Kyxa, so she would be accustomed to a finer palette of alcoholic drinks. "Guess I just have to be more careful next time I come back from shopping," I said smoothly, which almost made her laugh, but she stopped herself. That uniform she was wearing represented a special branch of the Ecclesiarchy and it would not do to break character out in public. "Will I see you again tonight?" I asked, with no small amount of hope in my voice. Screw being stoic, right now, Elris was the only positive thing to have entered my life since I came here. Even with the added danger of being found out as a psyker, that just added to the excitement, at least for me. "You just might" She answered with delight before she turned on her heel and walked off. I took this chance to make my way back to my room, but I didn''t get far. "Getting cozy with the redhead again last night, eh?" I turned my head as someone called out and saw a shorter-than-average trooper, covered in grime and dirt, his uniform wrinkled and unwashed, his gear in various states of disrepair, and an overall aura of just being a scumbag human being. "So what if I am?" I retorted "Just because you are so smelly and dirty you would be lucky if an underhive whore would cast you a second glance." The troopers that had started paying attention as he called out to me started hooting and hollering at my response. They loved drama, anything that would break the boredom. If it came to blows, they would have something new to talk about for weeks. The dirty trooper''s face contorted with rage at my words, but he didn''t do anything. "Frakking deathworlders!" He spat "The universe would be better without the lot of you!" This made me roar with laughter which was joined in on by several other troopers also hailing from death worlds, that were milling about in the area. "Then who would pull your stinking corpse out of the fire whenever you get into a fight, little man?" I taunted. Looking him over, I had nothing to fear unless he drew a firearm, and he was not stupid enough to do that. Nobody wanted to receive a field judgment for killing another trooper, especially not since field judgment usually meant death by shooting. He could, of course, still attack me but I doubted he would, so I might as well have a little fun. "Eventually she will tire of you and find someone else!" He tried, but he knew the verbal battle was lost. "And don''t call me little!" Being more than a head taller than the loudmouthed idiot I couldn''t help myself. "what are you?? The newest edition of pocket troopers, for when you need a little soldier for little problems?" I continued taunting and it had the intended effect. He took a swing at me, but he was both slow and telegraphing his moves, so I just leaned ever so slightly backward and watched his fist sail past my face and spinning him around in the process. I pushed him gently on the back, making him stumble a few steps in the process. He whirled around and attacked again and again, but I evaded every attack, giving him a shove every time he was off balance. He fell over several times and only grew angrier. "Are you too scared to fight back?" he sneered at me as he took another swing and I caught his wrist as his arm sailed past me yet again "Because you are not worth the effort it would take to teach you a lesson in manners, short stack!" I replied and pushed him away once more. It would seem I had miscalculated the stupidity of the trooper because the next thing I knew he had drawn his bayonet and was holding it as an experienced soldier would. Solid grip on the handle, blade pointing straight forward, held in front of his torso. He was an experienced knife fighter, but he was still slow. The first stab nearly caught my abdomen, so when he went in for the second attempt, I sidestepped the attack and kicked as hard and fast as I could toward his knee. the loud *CRUNCH* when my boot impacted with his kneecap told everyone nearby that I had shattered his knee and he fell over, screaming in pain. Before things could escalate further, I hurried away from the scene and retreated to my room. If Elris showed up tonight, it wouldn''t be for a few more hours. Guess I had to figure out what to focus on next. Committing to securing that Rogue trader position, or getting rid of that doctor in the underhive. I would have to think long and hard about this while I waited. Chapter 18: How deep does this system run? I was laying in my cot, having an inner debate about my choices, but the rogue trader position was going to be the focal point of my efforts. It would grant me the power to take care of that annoying snitch of a doctor in the underhive without any issues, and more importantly, it would secure me the freedom I was starting to crave. Life had been interesting and new when I first arrived, but every day brought with it the fact that my life as a trooper was meaningless and shortlived, and every battle I survived was a bit of my Luck being shaved away. I was becoming disillusioned and I could feel the effects of it. Being free to move about, more or less as I pleased, sounded like the right path for me. I had to come to terms with my way of thinking not aligning with the common Imperial citizen and it WOULD get me killed sooner rather than later. Having a Warrant of trade, or even just a Letter of Marque*. I did not need to create a Dynasty as the other rogue traders did. I was deep in thought and musing but I still noticed the footsteps approaching my door. Several people, judging from the multitude of steps, and the door was opened moments later. I was staring at the same old grizzled commissar, Elris, and my regiment commander. I jumped up and made the Aquila, waiting for the order from my regiment commander to relax. It only took them a minute to make me understand why they had come. I was temporarily promoted to lieutenant and given command of two, 20-man squads of guardsmen each with an attached sergeant. The reason? They wanted to test my leadership abilities and decided the best way to do it was to give me an insufficient force of soldiers and orders to take control of the next section in our path. The small industrial area would be key to securing the ground level of the hive, completely cutting it off from the rest of the planet, and thus ensuring the containment of the rebellious elements. The area in and of itself was not that large, but it was the home ground for one of the more troublesome gangs of the city, "The Underhive Runners" unofficially employed by one of the more powerful **Highborn houses, and officially one massive pain in the side of the Imperium. Well equipped, well trained, absolutely fucking mental when it came to desecrating the dead, the only reason they had not been branded heretics was their use of said desecrated dead to make imperial symbols. No more than a death cult that saw themselves as the heralds of the Emperor''s divine will, delivered by having your inner being revealed to his eyes. At least that was the best explanation that had been given by captured gang members. When I pressed for information on The Underhive Runners, I was informed they totaled close to 200 members at any given time, in the area I was supposed to take, though they would be partying resting, and getting drugged out of their minds, with it being their hideout and all. When asked if I had any questions, I said "Only one. will I have operational freedom in securing my objective?" "What are you asking, trooper?" My regiment commander snapped and I hastened to answer, "I am asking if I will be given the freedom and control to direct the troops as I see fit, during the assault, sir!" The three of them shared a long look before the commissar turned to me with a suspicious glint in his eye, "Do you see any fault in the Imperial doctrine, trooper?" He asked me, his voice carefully neutral. I was stepping on extremely volatile ground right now. "No, commissar! But Imperial doctrine always accounts for superior or equal numbers during an engagement. When outnumbered, even if it''s merely 5 to 1 against an inferior enemy, there may be the need for... adaptation, on the battlefield, to secure victory in the name of the Emperor!" "Unorthodox, but let''s see if it can yield results," Elris said, all of the warmth I had come to know in her voice, gone. She spoke like a true agent of the Inquisition. Cold fervor, analytical, judging. Her word, however, seemed to be law among these 3 although that should not surprise me. Even my regiment commander could do little other than bow and scrape if she truly chose to allow it. And so it came to be that I was swiftly marched over to get a change of uniform and marched out in front of the 20 soldiers that were to accompany me. I was far from impressed and from the smirk on the Commissar''s face, he had a hand in this. The sergeants looked capable enough, doing their best to make the glorified suicide squad look presentable. They utterly failed. Sagging, small-talking, smoking and doing their very best to look like anything other than a soldier. I sighed deeply as we walked up to them. The 2 sergeants immediately stood at attention and made the Aquila, as did all the soldiers except one. Before I had time to register what was happening, the Commissar jumped forward and grabbed the offending trooper around the neck, and started shouting, "FAILURE TO SALUTE AN OFFICER OR ANYONE OF HIGHER RANK CARRIES THE SENTENCE OF FLOGGING!! 50 LASHES!" He turned to the nearest sergeant and barked "Sergeant, carry out the punishment!" before violently shoving the offending soldier to the ground The man was quickly stripped of his shirt and tied up with his hands above his head. The sergeant had requisitioned a whip at the nearest quartermaster and took up position behind the man before he began the punishment. By the 5th lash, he started screaming from the long snaking wounds the whip created. By the 15th he didn''t have the strength to scream, but his face still contorted whenever he was struck. by the 35th lash he started weeping silently, the tears rolling down his face as the blood ran rivers down his back. He finally passed out by the 40th lash but the last 10 were still administered. As his unconscious body hit the ground the Commissar ordered him taken to the nearest medicae. Such a punishment would not relieve him of his duty, but it would take him off the mission and after leaving for less than 2 minutes, the Commissar came back, dragging a scared and confused trooper behind him. He was quickly shoved into the group of soldiers that had lost a member and a short briefing ensued by the regiment commander. The troopers looked less than pleased but being a deathworlder, I was built taller and stronger than most of them, except one of the sergeants, thus giving them at least some comfort in my abilities to fight and survive. Better than an armchair officer anyway. And so, I was suddenly left in charge of these 22 men. Taking a moment to go over the situation, I pulled out a map I had been given of the area we were supposed to take. Industrial, mostly the melting down of scrap metal and pouring of metal into bars. Hot, dangerous, a plethora of places for enemies to hide and take advantage of the shadows, and a fortified position in the back of the area, up against one of the enormous pillars that made up part of the hive base structure. Not much to work with, but I noticed that their territory was bordering another hive gang, "The Iron Nails". perhaps I knew I could use it to my advantage, but I had yet to figure out how. But it was not all bad. As numerous as the hive gangers were, they were drugged-up psychos with little to no formal training. I had trained soldiers under my command. Sure, they were scruffy and looked to lack discipline, but I had a gut feeling that when shit got real, their training would kick in and their natural defiance would see them through to the other side. As much as Guardsman did. I would be lucky if I got away with more than half of them still alive. My sergeants would most likely be the saving grace. Seasoned, competent, and secure in their abilities, they would assuredly push the troopers to the best of their abilities, in the name of survival. With a silent sigh of worry, I gave the order to move out and started leading the men to the area that served as a border between the two gangs. It took almost an hour of navigating around the hive city to arrive near the correct area, and it dawned on me once more just how much larger everything was in this universe, compared to back home. It also illustrated how much ground we had taken so far, which would only increase exponentially until we needed to start taking the levels above ground. They would be repetitions of our initial assault. Punch a hole in the defenses, establish a bridgehead, and start expanding until the level is under our control. And the higher we go, the more difficult our battle will become, because the higher levels are reserved for the wealthier, granting them access to war gear and armor that easily surpasses the quality of the Imperial Guard. But the fate of the hive was sealed the moment we gained a solid foothold inside. From that point forward, all the enemy had to fight for was the number of casualties they could inflict upon us. We finally arrived and took a lift a short way down to reach the construction area that stretched out for miles around. The sound of random skirmishes between gang members flared up and died down in the distance, the roaring of the ovens melting down the endless amounts of scrap, the clanking of the conveyer systems, it all melted together to form a disorienting and overwhelming environment. Add to the mix the orange glow from the melted metals, the yellowish light from the few and random glow-globes*** that were scattered around the area, and the many dark areas created by the various light sources, and we were walking into a possible death trap. But I had a plan. Or, I had an idea for a plan, but since I was in charge, I had a plan! I found a solid place to hunker down, easy to defend and hard to attack, and helped drag some smaller pieces of equipment over to construct some makeshift barricades. When we were ready, I gave each sergeant 3 troopers and tasked them with taking potshots at the different gangs, doing their best to make it seem like the rivals were committing to an attack. I wanted to instigate an all-out war between the 2 factions and wait in our dark corner while they fought it out. Once the smoke settled, we could move in and finish off the Underhive Runners while they were bleeding and drained of manpower. All I had to do, was be extremely lucky and trust my men to do their part. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. We watched as the sergeants took their charges and skulked off in different directions, taking careful note of the area so they knew where to retreat once their mission was accomplished. It didn''t take more than 10 minutes before we heard very aggressive lasgun fire, followed by a mix of las and stubber fire. The sound of battle would disappear for a few seconds before resuming once more, each time getting closer to the middle of the border area. After almost 2 minutes of this, 6 figures came rushing toward our position and a few of the guardsmen raised their rifles before they recognized the sergeants and 4 of the 6 troopers that had been with them. Random stubber fire flew past them and impacted near our barricades, sending the troopers, who were more or less settled down for a long wait, into a frenzy of return fire that helped the sergeants and troopers reach the safety of the makeshift barriers before they were gunned down by the pursuing gang members. As the scattered pursuers got closer, their fire started shifting from us to each other and I realized they were from the different factions, so the best we could do was hunker down and let them fight it out. Sure, it was not what was expected of me, but what did I care? My life mattered more to me than Imperial battle doctrine, and I had the advantage of surface-level knowledge about a great many things from back home. There was another benefit to my way of directing this fight. The troopers, that had wrongfully assumed I would charge in and fight the enemy head-on, had warmed up quite a bit when I was near and some of them even greeted me with some semblance of happiness. As we listened, the sounds of battle intensified, large explosions and screams of the dying and wounded filling our ears. It was weighing on me. The others might have grown up with this life, but I had not. I came from a universe of relative peace. Sure, crime and war were still a thing back home, but not to this degree. My world would be a literal paradise to all but the most powerful people in the entirety of the Imperium. Being able to go to sleep without screams of agony in the distance was considered a good life, here. I shook myself out of my thought as we settled down to wait for the gangs to fight it out. 4 more times, we had to instigate battle between the 2 factions, and 4 times the dying sounds of battle, resumed with a vengeance. I lost another 3 troopers, leaving me with the 2 sergeants and 15 troopers, but it was well within acceptable losses for a mission such as this. the 5th time I sent troops out to instigate, they quickly came back to report that the area was more or less safe to enter, and we moved out. Moving quickly, sticking low to the ground and rushing from cover to cover, I directed the troops forward toward the Underhive Runners'' territory. We rounded a large piece of machinery and I had to take a moment to regain myself before I could continue. I was staring at a hellscape. Burning, twisted, broken, and torn apart, the bodies were spread out across the area in numbers I had a hard time comprehending. From the look of things, I would say that almost a thousand or more people lay dead in an area the size of 4 football fields, dotted with heavy machinery. We would have to wade through the dead and still dying to get to where we wanted to go. I suppressed a shiver and quickly started moving again. The number of dead bodies did not diminish as we got closer to the headquarters of the Underhive Runners and I started to worry that maybe The Iron Nails had managed to win this miniature war I had instigated and I would be facing them instead. I had no intel on them beyond their name so they presented an unknown danger. My fears proved to be unfounded, as the look of the dead started changing from one gang to another, and when we arrived, all we saw was a few stragglers, hobbling around the various rooms that were used as living spaces and community gatherings. I counted no more than some odd 30 shapes moving around and I guessed there was no more than double that inside. Add to that they were wounded and tired and this should be fairly straightforward. One of my troops raised their rifle, but his sergeant quickly pushed it back down with a shake of his head, allowing us to move forward in silence. The closer we got, the greater the element of surprise. We were no more than 20 meters away when we got spotted. One of the wounded glanced out toward the border area and saw the 17 of us moving quickly toward their position. He barely managed to cry out before the beam of a lasgun punched a hole where his face used to be and we went loud. "ATTACK MEN! KILL THE BASTARDS!" I shouted and started firing indiscriminately at the open doorways while advancing. As soon as we got within range, the sergeants primed a frag grenade each that was tossed into the rooms where sporadic return fire had opened up. This inspired the rest of us to do the same with the other rooms and after the rocking explosions, we started cleaning up. going from room to room, half of our group stayed outside either with me or the 2 sergeants as we alternated the overwatch duty. Sad to say, I didn''t get many kills, but what could you do? I was appointed to orchestrate, not eliminate. My job was the big picture, the troopers were there to see to the actual work, but I did manage to sneak in a few quick shots along the way. There was no trouble for most of the process except for the end where a last-ditch ambush cost me 2 more troopers and a glancing shot that bounced off of my pauldron before our massed fire managed to finish off the wounded remains of a gang that had controlled a significant area, not in size, but in value. With this foundry area, the attacking Imperial army could resupply gear and munitions locally instead of relying on supplies captured or transported in from off-planet. This was massive, and most likely the reason it had been chosen as a special assignment. Had I failed, they would have just rolled a few thousand guardsmen over the area, but if it could be avoided by testing a potential rogue trader, that would of course be the preferable option. especially considering the Inquisition stood to gain absolute control over said, rogue trader. In any case, it would still be a significant upgrade to be chosen for the position. We might have done what we were tasked to do, but I didn''t trust anything until I had been cleared of duty, so I chose one of the sergeants to huff it back and report mission success, the other sergeant to take 10 troopers and patrol the captured area and finish off any survivors or intruders, while I hunkered down with the remaining 3 troopers who quickly got a small fire and a pot of mystery stew up and running, made from ingredients scavenged around the area. While we waited, I sat down on the ground and leaned against one of the massive foundry machines, letting the heat emanating from it warm me up as I decided to check out my status. I scrolled past the usual notifications but my eye caught the last two. Imperial faction quest complete. Reward: 2000 XP Achievement unlocked: Outgunned and underpowered. Time to think! "you outwitted your enemies and forced a victory through deception and guile. Congratulations, you backstabbing snake. Reward: +1 Will, +1 Luck. Wait, when did this system start commenting on my actions? I shook off the thought and continued to my status screen, HUMAN. LEVEL 5. STAT POINTS REMAINING: 0 ALIGNMENT: FAITHFUL IMPERIAL+. LITANIES: 27 AUGMENTATIONS: Cybernetic lung(upgrade lvl1, Toxins/environment) LEVEL:7649/9600 STRENGTH: 11 AGILITY: 9 PERCEPTION: 10 WILL: 14 LUCK: 31 PSYCHE: 1/500 SKILLS FEATS ABILITIES I liked what I was seeing. The random quest I had completed put me close to level 6, But Faction quests? That was both new and it made me wonder. Would it be possible to do quests for other factions if I got the coveted position as a rogue trader? How would that even work? Would I be able to get away with it? It didn''t matter for the moment, and I settled down, waiting for the Commissar to arrive. It took a little while, but He arrived with Elris and a retinue of close to 100 guardsmen. Scanning the area and occasionally firing his bolt gun into corpses at random as he made his way to me "Report" He demanded, gruff and direct. "Mission successful. We instigated a small gang war and used to damage caused, to mop up the remains and take the area. The neighboring gang, The iron Nails, were beaten back and should present a very weak opponent right now." I reported, and the commissar Turned to exchange a look with a captain who immediately ordered the retinue to move out. I could swear the commissar looked pleased underneath that permanent scowl of his, as insane as the very idea sounded. "When you said you planned unorthodox tactics, this is not what I expected." Elris remarked as she took in the area, "But I cannot argue with the results. You even managed to weaken the strength of another gang to the point where we can get rid of them immediately. This will certainly count in your favor." She was still as ice-cold and distant as ever, but I understood why. This was business. Pleasure had its time, and she had a reputation, considering her station. "Go rest and relax. You have earned it. You will be summoned again in 1 day." The commissar said, effectively ending the conversation, so I and the surviving members of our group gathered our things, aside from the troopers there were now chowing down on the mystery stew and made our way back to the safety of our territory. Soon enough I had made it back to my room and could throw myself on my cot. I was almost asleep when there was a knock on the door to the room and I opened the door to see a trooper I had not seen before, carrying a small satchel. "I was ordered to bring this to you," He said before shoving the satchel in my arms and making off again. I closed the door again and sat down on the cot while looking over the satchel. What was all this about? Chapter 19: When things start moving, they start MOVING! I couldn''t resist the temptation and opened the satchel right away. inside I found 2 letters and a small token with the Inquisitions insignia on one side and the insignia of the Adeptus Mechanicus on the other. The first letter explained the meaning of the token, which was to be traded in for my new set of carapace armor* at the nearest officio departmento munitorum. The inquisition had already taken care of everything and it just needed to be picked up and fitted to my body. Furthermore, the letter explained my promotion to rogue trader and informed me that a ceremony would be held in the near future to make my new status official. in the meantime, I was to report to Elris, who would be my immediate supervisor and travel companion in the near future as I get underway with my new task. She would spend the time between now and the ceremony teaching me about my new responsibilities and what the Inquisition expected from me as well. The second letter was handwritten, by Elris, telling me to go and get my armor handed out and then wait for her in my room before it finished off stating that she would be thirsty on her arrival. I dutifully unpacked the amasec bottle I had squirreled away, taking the not very subtle hint, and hurried over to the nearest munitorum office. The quartermaster behind the counter shot up from his seat and barked at a mechanicus adept when I put the counter on the table, and after inspecting it thoroughly, I was escorted into a mechanicus workshop where the work to fit my armor begin immediately. While quite a bit heavier than my old flak armor, it also offered a massive upgrade in protection, one that I was more than happy to trade a little bit of mobility for. I felt safe in this armor. The process took a few hours and the adepts were extremely nitpicky about any perceived error or miscalculation, but the fruits of their labor were undeniable. When they were finished, the armor felt like it was a second piece of skin I could slip into at will. The only thing I was not the biggest fan of, was the not-at-all-subtle markings of the Inquisition that adorned the armor. It was what it was. There were worse factions within the Imperium I could be associated with, and at least the mark of the Inquisition usually crushed any idea of being difficult I might encounter among many Imperial subjects. I felt powerful as I left the munitorum, mostly because the regular troops around me wore flak armor. I could tank damage that would obliterate a regular guardsman in this thing. Which, when I thought about it, didn''t amount to that much. But still, slow progress is still progress, and every sliver of advantage I could scrounge up for myself was to be cherished and appreciated. I also received an upgrade in weaponry, opting for the Bullock class Stub cannon**. Sure, the low ammunition count in the enormous revolver was insignificant compared to my las rifle, but when each shot has the potential to stop an Ogryn, or turn a regular man into a mess of scattered body parts, ammunition becomes a relative concept. Whoever heard of someone needing to be splattered, twice? I noticed numerous looks of both envy and confusion on my way back, as the Inquisitions mark was not a normal sight on these frontlines. I made my way back to my room without any issues and found Elris waiting for me, having already dipped into the bottle. "The armor suits you, though I expect you are going to want to modify it at a later point. I knew there was something different about you when I read the commissaries battle report back on Karrik Tomorrow, we begin your instructions. But tonight, you get to celebrate early!" The smile she sent me over the glass in her hand sent shivers down my spine and I was suddenly struck by the absurdity of the situation, seen from an outside perspective. An armored and armed man, being spun around the finger of a beautiful woman in tight clothing. A clich¨¦ as old as humanity itself. The oldest game ever played, and I had to stick to the rules, so I dutifully removed my armor and joined her for a few glasses before the real celebration got underway. The following days were spent listening to endless repetitions of the same subjects. namely, the normal duties of a rogue trader, establishing contact with worlds outside of the Empire''s influence, bringing any lost human civilization back into the fold, and otherwise finding the best way to exploit and conquer whatever I set my eyes on, in the name of the Emperor. I was also informed that I would indeed be bringing a liaison from the Inquisition that would function as advisor and middleman, between me and the Ordo Hereticus. I was also endlessly rehearsed in the correct wording when accepting the position during the ceremony. The matter of tradition was of the utmost importance, and there could be no errors for anyone to point at in the future, should a conflict between the Imperial factions arise as a consequence of my actions out beyond the borders of the Imperium. Elris was especially tenacious about me not being a direct part of the Inquisition, but rather a freelance agent benefitting from an endorsement that could be withdrawn more or less whenever it suited the people in power, which only happened if I started disappointing in my duties. Thankfully, shackled as I was compared to other rogue traders, my task was fairly easy. Do regular rogue trader stuff, claim planets for the Imperium, bring lost human civilizations back under Imperial rule, and trade to my heart''s content with exotic and rare items and minerals. As far as I was interested, trading was my main focus point. There were many things for sale in this universe, and the most precious of them all was knowledge. Someone, somewhere, out there, knew the secret for me to get home, and I wanted to find that someone. No price would be too high, and no cost too great. And I was lucky, lucky beyond all reason and hope, to get this chance. But I could not get my hopes up. This would be more than flying to the outer rims and finding a backwater planet with a shamanistic human culture. If I had to play by the rules of this universe, my best bet would most likely be the chaos powers, but that was not an option, with the whole Inquisitorial agent thing I had been roped into. Unless I could get more freedom, which meant getting rid of my Inquisition liaison down the line. A shame, Elris was good company outside our rank and file, but she was also standing in my way, in more ways than one. I had no real possibility to use/train my psychic powers with her nearby, and she would also prevent me from forming any meaningful relations with any planetary civilization that was not strictly Imperial, severely hampering my ability to discover as much as possible. But those were a concern for a different time. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. 2 days before the ceremony was to take place, I was asked to give my future crew some thoughts. As a rogue trader, I would be given a contingent from the Imperial Guard to travel with me and take care of the more aggressive side of Imperial diplomacy. Meaning, do what I want, or my personal army will vaporize you under a torrent of laser fire. But I would also have to start creating a personal retinue of specialists, starting with someone in charge of my security. But no matter how I twisted and turned the idea, I didn''t like the thought of having someone else plan out my security detail. Then it hit me. Abhumans. As soon as I got the idea, I voiced my desire to have a few Ogryns placed on my ship, along with a commissar trained in the handling of them. From the look on Elris''s face, I could tell she was less than impressed by the idea, but it was a tried and true method to have Ogryns as personal guards. Or, to me be more specific, "Bone ''eads"***, the heavily augmented sergeants among the Ogryn''s. Bigger, stronger, able to understand orders as complex as "attack the enemy from the side", and fiercely loyal toward their commander, they would sooner break the neck of anyone threatening their charge, high-ranking Imperial officials as well, than they would let harm come to those whose protection they are charged with. But I had another reason for wanting an Ogryn as my personal protector. Showing up on an undiscovered world with a lost human population would always create tension. Letting them see me have ultimate control over an abhuman large enough to crush me with a firm handshake, would remove any illusions of empty bravado in the claims I would bring about the strength of the Imperium. And it would be nice to have a companion whose biggest issue in life was whether to eat or sleep if they were not in a fight. Ogryns were so lovingly uncomplicated. I also spent some time testing out my new weapon, the outlying checkpoints and defensive works could always use extra manpower, and the hive gangers and heretics provided ample opportunity to test out my new toy. The first time I connected a shot, there was little left of my unfortunate victim''s left side of the chest. The arm and shoulder had been ripped off by the bullet and the poor idiot bled out within a handful of seconds. Of course, I also attracted quite a bit of attention from the return fire, on account of my new armor, which the gangers undoubtedly saw as a potential prize to be looted once I had been killed. The effectiveness of the armor was astonishing, most of the stubber rounds clanging harmlessly off of the pauldrons and chest armor, and the few that weren''t deflected didn''t penetrate enough to damage me, and a quick visit by the local mechanicus adept quickly saw minor damage corrected. Laser fire was still somewhat of an issue though, the concentrated light burned through the armor at an alarming rate whenever the occasional las weapon was used against us, and I very quickly learned to focus down anything even remotely looking like a las or, Emperor forbid, a plasma weapon among our enemies. That last one had not happened yet, but we with my future looking like it did, there was no telling what kind of weaponry I would possibly be pitted against, so it was best to learn the limitations of my new armor. Hopefully, I would get the chance to upgrade again sooner rather than later, and preferably to something that was not covered in Inquisitorial markings. I would really like to get my hands on some power armor, but considering that the full suit of carapace armor I was wearing, was usually reserved for wealthy individuals, or used by special units, like elite storm troopers, or squads of the Adeptus Arbites when they performed their underhive raids, I could not complain about my current situation. It had been an upgrade from paper armor to actual armor. The day before the ceremony I was given a short list by Elris and told to pick out a ship class from the ones listed. "I am sorry there are no better choices, but with the limited resources we have to spare on this project, they are the best we can supply." She added with a sad smile on her face. I truly believe she was sorry I could not pick from more suited options. There was the Jericho class Pilgrim Vessel, an enormous vessel that had been converted from a refinery vessel, it was able to hold thousands upon thousands of inhabitants with little issue and had massive amounts of cargo space. This also meant that its weaponry was rather limited, and it handled as well as a flying brick. I was not surprised this was on the list, the Ecclesiarchy was the main user of these ships, transporting pilgrims to and from the endless amount of shrines that were scattered across the Imperium. A good vessel for the rogue trader that wanted to do just that. Trade, and travel with a large force of Guardsmen to protect him. Then there was a Hazeroth Class Privateer, so named for its wide popularity among pirates and raiders. A good-sized crew with a decent amount of weaponry for its size, it suffered from a lack of armor and cargo space, in favor of engine-heavy designs, allowing them to run from anything they cannot fight. A good starting vessel for the up-and-coming pirate in the making. There was also a Vagabond Class Merchant Trader, a freighter style vessel with small amounts of weaponry, enough to discourage pirates anyway, engine power on the lower end of the scale, but good cargo space and decent crew manning. Unassuming and a very common sight along the Imperial shipping lanes, it was a ship that would blend into the crowd. A safe bet for any starting captain. Finally, there was a Havoc Class Merchant Raider, an older ship design with fast engines, sizable cargo space, enough firepower to rival many frigates, and a good-sized crew. The only downside was its relative lack of armor, earning it the nickname "glass cannon". A somewhat good choice, for the captain that was confident in their ability to either avoid a fight or end it before it could begin. It was an interesting choice, and one I would have to think over very carefully before I decided. Chapter 20: So. Many. Worries! "Havoc Class," I said after thinking it over for a long moment. It was the only sensible choice. engines fast enough to get me out of trouble, enough weapons to pose a threat to any similar-sized frigate, and still a respectable amount of cargo space along with a more than respectable crew size, meaning, allowing me to bring as much as 5 regiments of guardsmen, provided the Inquisition would supply me with that much. I doubted it. Most likely, I would be given a single regiment until I could prove my worth, either by trading and finding worlds that could be of use to the Inquisition or by weeding out potential heretics among the other rogue traders, if and when I met them, which I was bound to do sooner or later. "An Interesting choice. I would have thought you would have gone for the Hazeroth. Many new Traders prefer to start with as fast a ship as they can get their hands on." Elris said as she pulled on her boots. She wasn''t bothering with anything more than her basic guardsman shirt and pants, but I had a feeling she would be dressed to impress for the handing over of the Letters of Marque. It was not every day a new rogue trader entered the scene, even if I was not a full-on rogue trader with a fledgling dynasty behind me. "And you don''t have to worry about finding skilled crew. It will be supplied for your first ship. Navigators, tech priests, deckhands, 2 regiments of guardsmen, everything. We have even found an Ogryn that would be a suitable candidate. For some reason, he claimed to have seen you before, back on Karrik. You understand why I find this to be quite incredible, considering we are dealing with an ... Abhuman." Her voice was laced with vitriol as she said the last word, her distaste for the massive humanoids being put on full display, and I knew what she meant. An Ogryn being able to remember anything that had not been repeated 10.000 times was touching the borders of the unbelievable. "I do not understand why you would insist on having one of them assigned to your retinue. Apart from their size, I can see no advantage in using them for such tasks." "You forget about their loyalty. Once charged with my safety, no amount of coaxing, bribery, threats, begging, or anything else will make him go against that the task of protecting me. Sure, he might be manipulated, but as my bodyguard, he will be spending all the time away from the ship, glued to my side. There will not be many chances for anyone to attempt such a thing. There is also the possibility to put a literal wall of flesh and muscle between me and any danger there might arise. Given some Bullgryn armor* and a proper power maul and a ripper gun, once he has proved worth the expense, he will be neigh unstoppable, even against an Ork Nob*. The only thing that could keep me safer would be an Astartes battle brother. But don''t worry, I only plan on getting the 1 Ogryn. I need advisors and specialists in certain areas, but I am sure we will encounter such individuals on our travels. Unless of course, you know an infiltration expert that can operate in hostile territory? that would solve at least one more position issue" I was rather hopeful that Elris only operated in our ranks and I was not disappointed "I do not. Those I know are trained to infiltrate our own ranks." Elris was casual as she answered and it struck me how much more information she was willing to give out now that I was chosen for the role of a rogue trader. All of this was of course disclosed under the assumption that it was a private conversation. Spilling Inquisition secrets would get you killed, no matter your rank or position. Even governors of whole sectors would not be safe from spilling such secrets. I didn''t care about that, I had no obligation to these people, no duty of care. I just wanted to go back home. I had my life dream fulfilled, and I had been sorely disappointed. I had been blind to the horrors, being enthralled by stories of heroic last stands and epic charges against overwhelming odds. The truth was far more grim. For every heroic tale, millions of meaningless deaths would have to take place. Enough blood to fill oceans would have to be spilled to create the circumstances that transformed an ordinary warrior into a legendary one. And in this universe, I was not one of those ordinary warriors. I was a flea, a surface nuisance, to those that wielded real power. Astartes, both regular and chaos varieties, entombed dreadnoughts**, Daemons, Titan walkers, a literal hell dimension, numerous alien species with nothing but bad intentions for mankind, there were death cults, parasite species, and so much more. I was surrounded by a galaxy of shit and suffering, and I had to contribute to it in no small degree to find the only thing I truly wanted at this point. A way home. My dull home seemed like a vacation in paradise when compared to my current situation. "A shame. Guess I will have to figure something out with Ordo Militum*** down the line." I replied as I started strapping on my new carapace armor. "You are very familiar with the inner workings of the inquisition for a PDF trooper!" It was not a statement but a deeply veiled accusation, and I felt the familiar tingling along my spine as the room seemed to grow colder in an instant. Gone was my nighttime distraction and in her place sat the Inquisition agent with the scent of blood in her nostrils. "I am also quite capable, for a PDF trooper. Is it so strange that I would be of exceptional intellect as well as skill?" I fought to keep my tone light, trying to hide behind boastful bravado. "I love the Imperium and as such, I have had an interest in learning its inner workings to the best of my ability, which is quite substantial, as you well know." I winked at the last words, causing the tiniest of smirks to appear on her lips for a fraction of a second. She accepted my words reluctantly, but it WAS plausible. She even kissed me goodbye before she left after giving me the time of the ceremony. Nothing noteworthy happened until then, and the ceremony itself was a very quiet affair. The inquisition always did like its secrecy. The planetary governor himself signed and handed me the Letter of Marque, overseen by Elris, a commissar, and a servitor clerk from Administratum, and just like that, I was a rogue trader. The letter was placed in a Null box**** and I carried it in as we walked toward the landing pad that contained the Havoc Class Merchant Raider I had requested. Mind you, the ship was roughly 1.6 km long (roughly 1 mile) and 400m wide (roughly 1200 ft) and had approximately 24.000 crew when fully manned. Add to that my 2 regiments of 1500 guardsmen each, and I was set for at least a solid 6 months of exploring before I would have to return to port to refit, sell cargo, and hire more crew. Given the size of my ship, it took us a while to finally arrive at an entry point, and when we did, we were greeted by a commissar and an enormous Ogryn that showed signs of heavy cranial augmentation. So it was a Bone ''Ead. His size, however, was quite bigger than the regular abhuman. Where a normal Ogryn would tower over you at 2.5-3 meters, this one almost reached 3.5 and his muscle-to-mass ratio was even more ridiculous than normal Ogryns. He was a freak of nature. The initial greetings only took a minute and the commissar looked to the Ogryn and said firmly "Trokk, this is the man you need to protect. That is the only thing you will need to do. Keep. This. Man. Safe!" It surprised me that he used such a simple command to an Ogryn that had been mentally enhanced, but maybe it made it easier for Trokk to have a clear order to fall back to, whenever he was in doubt. "Okay. Keep the man safe!" Trokk repeated as he stared intensely at me, no doubt committing my face to memory to the best of his abilities. With that, we quickly started moving through the ship to arrive at the bridge, with the captain''s quarters located on the deck straight above with a private elevator leading connecting the 2. The crew looked at us with curiosity, but as soon as they saw my armor and the box I carried, they knew I was the soon-to-be captain of the vessel and they saluted us with the Imperial Aquila. It might sound glorious, but it was anything but glorious. Cramped corridors that were coated in old grease and grime, grey crew members that lived lives of darkness and endless work, only occasionally broken by a few days of port leave. Some of them had been born into it, never knowing any other life than the snaking corridors and horrible food. If they were lucky they would never experience anything other than the killing monotony of a merchant''s life. If they were unlucky they would be killed during a pirate boarding or worse, be taken by chaos to either be sacrificed or corrupted. The true glory of the Imperium. I saw the faces, grey skin and sunken eyes, hunched backs, and dead eyes. The hunger with which they looked at Elris concerned me for a moment, until they saw the Inquisition marks on her clothes and they, in the infinite wisdom a life in the Imperium brings with it should you manage to survive to adulthood, that subservience was the way to go instead. The sight of Trokk also brought no small amount of fear into their eyes despite their knowledge that if he wanted to harm them, he would have done so already, but the massive guy was shooting menacing looks in the direction of anyone so much as looking at me. If he had this effect on Imperial subjects, I could not wait to see a long-lost human race react to him, and the thought made me giddy as we arrived at our destination. I looked around the bridge as we entered and it was bustling with activity. Techpriests, servitors, regular crewmembers, even a Navigator*****. The young man was so pale he could have passed for an albino, spindly of build, but not very tall. the third eye in his forehead was covered with a piece of fabric, but everyone still gave him a wide berth and I noticed Elris sneering in visible disgust as we got closer. I should not be surprised. Navigators were, when it came down to it, mutants. The only reason they were allowed to live, was their ability to facilitate travel between the stars, so her dislike of him was only a natural reaction. The navigator greeted me with indifference, an expected reaction. "This is Farsyn, a young navigator from a shrouded House. I have no doubt he will work very hard to restore his bloodlines lost honor while in service on your ship." None of this information was critical, so it was obvious Elris was mocking the Navigator, her instincts of hate toward any mutation that deviated from a baseline human made it clear, she was Inquisition through and through. I returned his greeting and held out my hand to shake his, and the gesture made both Elris and Farsyn immensely surprised, though for very different reasons, and the Navigator hesitantly extended his hand and shook mine. "It is rare to see someone so at ease around my kind, even more so when they learn of my great shame" The last words were followed by an irritated glance in the direction of Elris, but nothing more. His restraint was either remarkable or he was used to the insult. My bet was on him being used to it. "But it pleases me that we will be able to look past these differences and focus on bringing glory to the Imperium in our future travels. If there is nothing else, Captain, I would like to retreat to my sanctum. Do you have a heading in mind?" I thought about it for a second. What would be the most important thing for me to do right now? Then I had an idea that would solve many problems at once. "Take us to the edge of the Caligari Sector, in Segmentum Tempestus. That is our heading." I said and the Navigator quickly retreated. "The Caligari Sector? What do you expect to accomplish there?" Elris asked when we were left alone, Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. "Find some heretics, bring them the Emperor''s mercy, take whatever is in their ships they have not defiled, and make a new plan once that succeeds. This is a decent ship, Elris, but it needs some upgrades before I am comfortable with taking it out into the fringes. I also need to expand my retinue before we venture out. So for now, we get to chase around heretics, mutants, Xenos, and the corrupted. I can''t imagine you have anything against showing traitors the error of their ways?" I made sure to play on her Inquisitorial nature, but I was not lying either. The Caligari Sector was a hotspot for all of those mentioned above and its proximity to Imperial space meant that I could run away if I bit off of more than I could chew, and reasonably expect to find help before being hunted down and turned into a gruesome trophy. I spent the rest of the day scrutinizing the various blueprints over the ship, a thing that would come to be my primary pass time when I was in standby mode as the captain of the ship. Either them or whatever information we could scrounge up about our next intended destination. When I retreated to my private quarters above the bridge, I was pleasantly surprised to see that the last captain had at least known about comfort, judging from the large and fluffy-looking bed and pillow. A couple of comfortable leather chairs were placed in front of a large steel desk, which had a very official-looking swivel chair placed behind it. The walls were covered in a soft golden light that came from panels along the floor and ceiling, giving the room a calming and comfortable glow. Upon inspection, all the cabinets were empty, but I would rectify that soon enough. Spare weapons, trophies, and the finest booze. Yep, my childhood pirate king dreams would most definitely come to life in this room. Not that I was going to go full pirate mode, but it was nice to have a place to go dream. The first stop on our way was Bakka, besides the occasional entering of realspace once the Navigator was at the limits of his sight from our previous location, so roughly every 5000 lightyears or so. With an expected average travel speed of about 250 lightyears daily when inside of the warp, that meant we have to transition into realspace every 19-21 days, depending on the Navigator and take a day or 2 for them to rest up and relax. Warp travel was not done easily and it was not an exact science. There was also the fact that I had chosen to travel across the Imperium to begin my journey, so... There was that. I was looking at, in the very best of circumstances, 40-50 days of travel before we got anywhere near the sector I wanted to reach. So, I could probably expect a good 70 days of travel before we reached Bakka. After getting out of my armor and putting it away on a shelf, I fell into the swivel chair with a heavy sigh, wondering what I could do to pass the time. There was always hedonism, allowing myself to indulge in whatever struck my fancy. But I didn''t function well under such circumstances. I would quickly become either apathetic or depraved, neither of which was something that appealed to me. I could always train with the Guardsmen. I would have to keep myself ready. I could also familiarize myself with Trokk who had been dismissed to the care of a young commissar that had been assigned to me as his handler until we reached our destination, at which point, Trokk should be bonded enough to me that I would have full control over the giant abhuman. But I could always do that tomorrow. He would be following me whenever I was not in this cabin, or when explicitly dismissed, which would happen very rarely. I could also spend time studying every bit of information I could dig out from our data stores, and try to get the hang of how combat in space would function. I had gotten a good grasp on ground combat, but space combat was very different. Torpedos launched at distances of hundreds of thousands of kilometers, "Point defenses" with a range of a few hundred kilometers. Atomics used with reckless abandon, weaponized gamma radiation to fry incoming fighters. My new ship didn''t even have Lance turrets, the standard high-energy beam weapons mounted on the larger cruisers and capital ships, but I had to do with Las Burners******. And I would have to stick to those underpowered pieces of junk until I could get my hands on a bigger and better ship. It would take days just to plow through the relevant information, and weeks to develop a proper understanding of the various subjects. I was restless but exhausted from the events of the day and decided to get some sleep, but I had barely had time to take off my shirt and reach for my belt when a small vox near the elevator down made a chime. I walked over and pressed the button. "Speak," I said as I activated the vox. "Your belongings from your previous living quarters, captain." The quality of the vox made it impossible to distinguish gender by voice, but the pitch and tone told me it was one of the guardsmen and I pressed the button that sent the elevator down. Moments later it came back up and a young trooper stepped out, carrying both of my backpacks. She put them on the floor just inside my quarters and looked up to salute me with the Aquila, and froze. Her staring told me it was the scars she was looking at, my missing shirt revealing the work of the underhive doctor. Sure, the function of his work was perfect, but he had not been gentle if the scars were anything to go by. add to that my previous injuries and the injuries that the previous owner of this body had received, and the image of a deathworlder was complete. The trooper was short and lean, not an overly feminine body by any stretch, half a lifetime of war having hardened her into an experienced killing machine. She had seen death and dealt it, in equal measure. But she had grown up in a comfortable world, with a stable and comfortable climate, without wildlife that WOULD kill you, given the slightest chance. Compared to me, she was still soft and squishy, and the few wounds I could see would not have been pretty, but they were not too severe either. Even after arriving here, I had stared death in the face and only survived on sheer luck, and only the Emperor knew what had transpired to the previous owner. I had been covered in scars before my inept self had taken over. "Was there anything else, trooper?" I asked and cocked an eyebrow at the young woman. "No captain!" She said, a little too quickly, as she finished her salute. "Dismissed. For now." I said with a smile and she blushed as she turned on her heel and took the elevator down without turning back around. It was a cute reaction, but it was just for fun. I didn''t dare think of what Elris would do if she thought she had competition. Of course, I doubted I was the only man in her life, but one could never play it too safe with the Inquisition. It wasn''t until I fell into my new, wonderful, heavenly, absolutely divine new bed, that I noticed a tiny incessant blinking in the corner of my eye. With a small hint of excitement, I opened my character screen. PERSONAL MAIN QUEST NOTIFICATION: You have started a personal main quest to find a way back to your own world. Guess having your dreams come true was not all it was chalked up to be, huh? REWARD UPON COMPLETION: Unknown (Yes, unknown!) There it was again, that sassy side of the system. What the hell was that about? Achievement unlocked: "I am free" Become a Rogue Trader with all of the freedom it entitles. In Imperial service, this is a luxury afforded to few and desired by all. Where will you turn your gaze? +3 perception, +1000 xp well, that was a nice little surprise. I like this achievement system more and more. HUMAN. LEVEL 5. STAT POINTS REMAINING: 0 ALIGNMENT: FAITHFUL IMPERIAL+. LITANIES: 27 AUGMENTATIONS: Cybernetic lung(upgrade lvl1, Toxins/environment) LEVEL:8649/9600 STRENGTH: 11 AGILITY: 9 PERCEPTION: 13 WILL: 14 LUCK: 31 PSYCHE: 1/500 SKILLS FEATS ABILITIES(*) RETINUE(*) Wow, A new tab? I quickly opened it to see what that was all about. RETINUE: Trokk, the Ogryn. Bodyguard. Strength, 600. Agility, 6. Perception, 8. Will, 5. Luck, 5. 600 strength? What was that guy made out of, cybernetic muscle on steroids? Even if I managed to level enough to have the points, there is no way I would ever invest that much into strength, the most deceptive of all stats. Sure, it was impressive to look at, but at what cost? He was tough as a sack full of bricks, but about just as smart. Bodyguard was indeed the best job he could ever have. Perhaps I could get my grubby little hands on some Bullgryn armor and a slab shield, covering the formidable meathead in discarded tank tracks fashioned into makeshift armor. But that was wishful thinking for now. I moved on to see my new ability. "GET UP GUARDSMAN!!" : This ability grants the user the ability to push through what would otherwise be incapacitating damage, and keep on fighting. One use per week. ENDURANCE: TIER 2, LEVEL 7 (NOTE: PLANETARY BONUS APPLIED) DANGER INSTINCT: LIVING IN A WORLD WHERE DANGER IS RELATIVE AND DEATH WAITS AROUND THE CORNER OF EVERY NEW DAY HAVE GRANTED YOU THE ABILITY TO SENSE MALICIOUS INTENT TOWARDS YOU. NATURAL BLUFFING: SINCE YOUR ARRIVAL, YOU HAVE SPENT A CONSIDERABLE AMOUNT OF TIME DURING CONVERSATION LYING AND TWISTING THE TRUTH. YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED THE NATURAL BLUFFING FEAT. WITCH SIGHT*: Use your psychic abilities to "read" the aura and intent of those around you. TRADERS'' CHARM: LIKEABLE AND FRIENDLY WHENEVER GIVEN THE CHANCE, THE ROGUE TRADER BEGINS ANY FIRST SOCIAL INTERACTION WITH ANY INDIVIDUAL, WITH A MINOR INCREASE IN CHANCE FOR A POSITIVE OUTCOME, REGARDLESS OF THE SITUATION. That was nice, though I wondered how much use a "minor increase in chance" would help me out. I was not about to disregard a new ability though, and it was more than I had before. I suddenly heard the elevator and realized I never recalled it after it went down and I got busy closing down the character screen to focus on whoever was coming up, but I heard Elris call out before it stopped. "Quite an upgrade from your previous lodgings. It''s nice to be back in more comfortable surroundings, but in the future, I advise you to recall the elevator after dismissing someone." She was looking around the room as she walked further in. "Somewhat empty, but, everything in good time. So, why did you choose a destination on the other side of the Segmentum Solar?" I lifted my head and looked at her as she made herself comfortable in one of the leather chairs after turning it around to face me. "Because," I answered "As capable as I might be on the ground, I need time to get familiar with the role of Rogue trader and captain of a ship. I figured the trip through Imperial space would grant me time to get familiar with the basics before we reach Bakka and can get direction on any pirate elements in the nearby area I can hunt down and bring to justice. This will also let me asses the combat level of our little crew, and my vessel, and paint me an overall picture of how effective this ship operates. And finally, it will be near friendly territory, allowing for a backward-oriented assault, giving our Imperial allies a chance at glory." Elris laughed at the phrasing. "It''s remarks like that, that cause you to stick out, you know. You are different. And I cannot help but wonder why. You Intrique me, Bj?rk, and that is not an easy thing to do. I have served the Imperium for close to 300 years at this point, and never have I met someone with a mind like yours. I know you are not a psyker, You were subject to several tests from our psykers both on and off the battlefield before we contacted you. You stood out back on Karrik, and we took notice back then. A deathworlder, with no memory, is miraculously saved by an Ecclesiarcy deacon, reciting ancient teachings and choosing to serve in the PDF. Come on, even with memory loss, you had to know that would make you stand out. But we have plenty of time for me to figure you out. I am here to be assigned quarters... Unless you prefer to assign me to yours?" She raised an eyebrow as she finished speaking and I had to think it over quickly. I would never have alone time if I assigned her here, and it might also give the wrong impression, but there were a few rooms not far away that were meant for wealthier guests during trade between ships, or even transporting important people from place to place. "You will take one of the large rooms as your permanent room, but you are more than welcome to spend the night, almost whenever you want." It was an apologetic refusal, but it made it clear I needed my own space and time every once in a while, and she accepted it with a smile. "Very well captain, I will go get situated in my chambers, but be sure I will return often. You are pleasant company when you are not being an enigma." And with those parting words, she left the room and sent the elevator back up, leaving me to finally get some rest and try and get accustomed to my new situation. The question of what I would do when I arrived at Bakka could wait until tomorrow. Chapter 21: Curse me!!! The first 2 weeks passed in a blur. When I was not locked in my room, studying schematics, battleplans, statistics, fire drill accuracy charts from the guardsmen, common void battle tactics, information of armaments, common trade goods, uncommon trade goods, expected random happenings, knowledge about the world that were situated on the edge of Imperial space, restricted information about the different xeno species, of which I took special note of the Tau empire. Sure, they were communists in space, but there had to be a way I could abuse it to my advantage. It would also annoy Elris to no end if we had to deal with them, and I had to admit I got perverse pleasure out of annoying her. The way she looked at Trokk was enough to make me smile, so I could only dream of one day introducing her to the Tau. But that would have to wait until such an opportunity presented itself. A thousand other small things required my attention and we quickly reached the first time we had to transition out of the warp for our navigator to get a new bearing and rest up. The time in real space was greatly appreciated by the crew, as it was the only time we could look out of the windows in the ship, as the blast shields were lowered for the duration of warp travel There was no reason to risk insanity, corruption, or worse, just because some idiot guardsman or crew member wanted to take a gander at warp space. It also allowed us to take status of the Gellar Field Generator*, which thankfully was intact and operating at peak efficiency. The mechanicus adepts were not at all happy that I invaded their sacred spaces, but as captain of this ship, there was little they could do to stop me. There were quite relieved that I didn''t touch anything, evidenced by the lack of interference from the tech priest that followed my every move. "Any problems with the machine spirit?" I asked to try and appease the neurotic tech priest and the robotic voice of his kind answered me. "The machine spirit is appeased and functioning, captain. No problems are registered." I decided to take his words at face value. No member of the mechanicus would not lie about something like that, especially not about the machine spirit. "Very good. We would not want to upset it needlessly, lest it decides to give it when we most need it. Take care to anoint the engines and read your rites carefully. I would rather you do it well, than fast." I figured it wouldn''t hurt to get a good reputation among the ships mechanicus adepts, and my words seemed to please the one in front of me if that was even possible. Who knows, maybe I could even get some Skitarii** under my command in the future. For now, though, I would have to be content with the Guardsmen I was already commanding, which was quite good in and of itself. A single Lasgun was barely worth noting. But 3000? That could do some serious damage in a very short amount of time. Or it could delay a great enemy for a short while. Either case, it was their duty and destiny to die for the glory of the Emperor, or in this case, me, as his divine explorer. I suppressed a sigh, the thought making me miserable. The fact that human life was so casually thrown away was a heavy burden on the mind and one that was best forgotten if one wanted to stay sane. Better to see them as tools to be used, so I didn''t have to face reality. Was all command like this? Or was it only like this to those that cared? I abandoned that train of thought before it sucked me in deeper, A different issue forced its way into my brain. Elris. She had found, and executed, no less than 47 crew members, on grounds of heretical activities and worship. I could of course try and keep her distracted, but my studies demanded my every waking moment. I needed to prepare for when we reached our destination, The Veiled Region was rife with pirates, heretics, Xenos, and outright Chaos worshippers. I would need every advantage, every scrap of knowledge I could get my hands on, to have a chance to not only survive but flourish in that region. And having an overzealous Inquisitorial agent at my side was not going to help things along if I wanted to try and use a bit of guile and deception. She would not be able to control herself, her passion for play in the captain''s cabin only being surpassed by her passion for her work. It shouldn''t surprise me, 300 years was a long time to convince yourself that your cause was righteous and just. It was only natural that fanaticism had entered the equation about 200 years back. That was the great mystery in her fascination with me, my behavior so far would have caused anyone else to get executed more or less on principle. I stuck out. I might have had enough prior knowledge of this world to blend in, but I completely lacked the mannerisms. So far, I had been able to chalk it up to being a goofy individual, but I wondered how long that would continue. As a rogue trader, I was bound to run into very powerful people from time to time, be it "regular" humans, or Astartes, but they would be individuals who had spent literal millennia assessing people and their character. They would label me instantly, just as the Ordo Malleus had done with me when I entered this world. I had been careless and sloppy and combined with the confusion the system brought me, it was getting increasingly harder to not fall back into old behavior patterns and the endless praying was also taking its toll. But I had to keep up appearances or suffer the consequences. This insistence on piety would also make me stand out among the other rogue traders, since the general level of freedom afforded such exceptional individuals, such as myself, freed them from such menial things, allowing them to focus on acquiring power and wealth, expanding their fleets and their influence. Having officially ascended from flea to pest, on an intergalactic power scale, I had entered a new pond of fish, once more being placed at the bottom of the food chain. The day after we transitioned back into real space, the Navigator, Farsyn, called me on the vox. "Captain, I must inform you that our travels will be extended by a number of days. Warp anomalies are in the way and we will have to redirect into Segmentum Solar for our next scheduled realspace transition. Shall I send a message, informing Battlefleet Solar of our arrival?" "By all means, inform them, I have no interest in incurring their wrath. They are likely to shoot us down before asking questions." I replied before returning my attention to the issue of the day. This day it was a growing sense of dissent among the crew, having to suffer under Elris''s constant scrutiny, and I had to figure out a way to reel in her murderous ways. And maybe, just maybe, I had stumbled upon such a way. That evening as I finished up my studies, I sent for Elris and she showed up with a stack of papers in her hands. "Take a seat, Elris, have a glass of amasec, and relax. You are working yourself to the bone with the crew." I gestured to one of the leather chairs and she slumped down in it after getting herself a glass. "There are more worrying practices on board this vessel than I thought possible. I have so many leads and hints from those already interrogated..." She trailed off to empty the glass and cast a longing glance at the bottle on the far table. I slowly rose and made my way over to it, "Then we have a happy coincidence, as I need someone to gather notes on important people near our destination. Everything that can be found, from their taste in clothes to their favorite drink and food. Whatever advantage you can give me, I want." I picked up the bottle as I spoke and brought it over to fill her glass. "That would give me time to sit down for a while and go over my notes as well..." She mused as she played with the liquid in the glass. "But what of the heretical practices among the rest of the crew?" This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Given your recent storm of activity, you can be sure they are going to keep a low profile. Hang back for a bit, let them fall into a fall sense of security, then strike once more." I encouraged her, playing on her desire to purge anyone she deemed unclean and using her responsibilities as the dominant factor in my reasoning. Admittedly, I was playing a somewhat dangerous game, but I was fairly certain I could make this fall out to my advantage, given the intimate relationship I shared with Elris. My efforts earned me a weak smile, but I noticed a glint in her eye. A glint of something cold. Calculating. Still smiling, she looked at me and said "It seems as though you have given this a lot of thought, Bj?rk?" Her voice was the same as before, tired and slightly frustrated. Nothing appeared changed. And yet, that glint in her eye had me on edge. "Elris. As much as it pains me to admit, your years working for the Imperium give you an insight I simply do not have. I am still in the first stage of my first lifetime. My experience is rather limited. This is why I ask you for this. Yes, there are heretical practices taking place among the crew, but they are not going anywhere unless I approve, and anyone you deem worthy of putting on lockdown, we can arrange it. You have your orders, but I also have mine. Or rather, a lack of. And therefore I have to make my path through the galaxy, serving the Emperor the best I can. But I need help along the way, and right now I am asking for that help." I had to try and reason with her, and the best way to do it without revealing the truth and looking like I sympathized with those she hunted, I had to hide behind false pride. Thankfully, it was a common trait in the Imperium, and my relatively short service in the greater ranks allowed me a bit of ignorance and goodwill from the people I interacted with. Elris stared at me for a long moment before she emptied the glass once more. "Alright. But you owe me a favor, Bj?rk" She was smiling again, a genuine smile, as she answered and she held out her glass for me to fill it once more. "I don''t suppose you accept payment in the form of sexual favors?" I asked, more to tease than anything, but a small voice inside of me was screaming for her to say yes. "Pay for something I already get? Nice try, but you are just going to have to get used to the thought. I promise to be reasonable when the time comes." Elris laughed and the evening took a more comfortable turn from that point. The bottle of amasec was emptied, replaced, and emptied again. We joked, we laughed, and we acted like regular people instead of the figures of authority we were. For me, it was a pleasant break in my new duties. For Elris, it was a very rare chance to cut loose without fear of getting judged by everyone around her. needless to say, we both jumped at the opportunity. This universe had a way of grinding away at joy and happiness wherever it presented itself, so to llow oneself to remember the joys and good things, rather than the grim darkness we lived in, was an exceedingly rare luxury that would be tresured in our memories for a long time. __________________________ The days until the next entering of real space went off in calm silence, the crew was relieved that Elris spent the vast majority of time in her quarters, studying and making small notes for me to hang on when dealing with nobles, royal houses, Astartes, the various branches of the Imperium, behavior in front of regular troops, the importance of spending enough credits to look the part as much as being it, everything that could be imagined I Would need to know without knowing the reason behind why. That would come in its own time. Usually, a person would know all of this by heart, since noble houses always made sure their members were extremely well educated. But my case was a special one, since the Ecclesiarchy wanted a rogue trader without any ties of any kind, to anyone but the Emperor and those that gave him the power know wielded. This routine was broken when we entered real space for the second time. I was summoned to the bridge to answer an incoming hail the moment we left the warp. "This is Captain Antaros of the Imperial Fists 6th company, The Siege Hammers, in command of the strike cruiser Justitia Fides. Halt your ship and submit it to inspection by Astartes forces immediately. Refusal will be met with swift and deadly force." The voice that boomed out of the vox was not human. It was too deep, too rumbling to be human. Even filtered through the helmet vox of the Astartes on the other end, it was abundantly clear that this was not a regular human being. "We will halt our ship and submit to inspection, as ordered. Is there anything we can prepare for your arrival?" I said in a calm and collected tone, doing my very best not to reveal the panic and turmoil going on in my mind. "Have your Warrant of Trade ready to present to our representative." The Astartes responded. "I do not possess a Warrant of Trade, only a Letter of Marque. I shall have it ready to be presented at your command." I said and heard the other end of the conversation disconnect from the call, as our engines died down and our inertial dampeners brought us to a halt. Barely 2 minutes passed before the expected Thunderhawk made itself visible on our scanners and a minute after that, it had landed and I was informed of a contingent of Astartes approaching the bridge at a brisk pace. I was standing on the bridge with the null box in my hands, Elris at my right side, and Trokk at my left. I heard them coming long before I saw them, the impossibly heavy footsteps of a Space Marine in full armor sounding like the approaching steps of death. "Something is coming!" Trokk said with conviction as he looked around for something to use as a weapon. "Relax Trokk. The Emperor''s Angels are coming to see us." I said, using an expression I knew he understood. "Emperors Angels?" Trokk repeated slowly while scratching his head, the gears grinding audibly as he tried desperately to remember. "The Emperor''s Angels of Death, Trokk. Bringing the Emperor''s anger to the filthy xenos, remember?" Trokk had earned his right for the Biochemical Ogryn Neural Enhancement, or Bone''Ead status by fighting Tyranids, also granting him a burning hatred towards the interstellar cockroaches. Having lost every other Ogryn in his squad during the fighting, only surviving thanks to his freakish size and strength until reinforcements arrived at their position, his favorite pastime was now stepping on every bug he could find on the ship. Needless to say, he was plenty entertained when not busy being my enormous shadow of protection, like now. "Oh, I remember! They kill the bad bugs very fast!" Trokk exclaimed and looked happy both with himself for remembering and with the prospect of seeing these Angels for himself. He hoped they were big and good at killing bugs. He hated bugs, they hurt you and killed your friends, and you couldn''t even eat them. As stimulating as this conversation was, the footsteps had come close enough that I anticipated them walking around the corner any second, and was not disappointed. 6 battle brothers were approaching fast, one with a helmet attached to his hip, all of them carrying the signature bolter and chainsword. They came up to the 3 of us in formation and didn''t stop until they were close enough that I had to look up at the 7-foot superhumans. "Letter of Marque!" The one without a helmet demanded, his barrel chest making his voice impossibly deep and forceful. He sounded old, the 3 gold studs and 3 iron studs indicating 330 years of service as a full Astartes. I opened the Null box and he carefully extracted the letter and scanned it before placing it back in the box. As he did, the remaining five relaxed the grip on their bolters. I had not realized it, but they had been ready to open fire at a moment''s notice if their leader had commanded it. "You can never be too careful in Segmentum Solar. We require your aid, rogue trader." The unhelmeted one said as he fixed me with a stare and I felt myself going weak under his gaze. It was like I was being stared down by a deadly predator that was only restrained by the greatest amount of self-control that had ever been exerted. "Pirates are operating further in the sector, and we need you to find them. Our ships are known to their navigators and we cannot get close before they flee. The Emperor''s justice must be fulfilled!" "Of course.. umm, I didn''t get your name?" I said, a little confused on how to approach an Astartes. "Sergeant Demias Iagimoz," The Astarted Rumbled. "Sergeant Demias, I will aid you in any way I can. But we must have a clear plan present, otherwise, this operation is doomed to fail before it begins." "Let us begin then." Demiias rumbled, and just like that, I was roped into a 5-hour-long meeting going over what he referred to as "The beginning stages of a proper plan". Fuck my life, and the neck it rode it on! Chapter 22: A taste of the void. It took no less than 4 days for Sergeant Demias to be satisfied with the plans we made to hunt down the pirates that were giving the Imperial Fists grief. 4 days of discussing possible scenarios, impossible scenarios, and potential courses of action depending on the response of the pirates to any theoretical situation. Estimated losses of my crew and soldiers, should they be allowed to board, and the response time for the Astartes reinforcements that were being made ready to move out at first contact with the pirates. Potential resources that could be reclaimed in the name of the Emperor, and the assumed forces under the command of the pirates. 4 days of mind-numbing boredom, far worse than any prayer session. "Take heed that you do not engage their commander without us. The man is a perverted witch, spreading his degenerate filth where ever he sets foot." Demias had warned me, and I understood enough to know that I was dealing with a psyker turned pirate captain. Elris was happy with this, her desire to root out heretical thoughts growing with each passing day. She was used to infiltrating and abolishing small cells of heretics, not spending endless days gathering information and cooking it down into note form for me to take advantage of. I had taken the sergeant''s words to heart and had no plans to play the hero in all of this. Sure, I was a psyker myself, but I was untrained, and, more importantly, I was neither sanctioned to be a psyker nor known to be one, meaning I would get a target on my head if it ever became known. So while Elris was happy we got to hunt heretics, I was happy we got to take a backseat and function as nothing more than bait. of course, we would still be placed in harm''s way, but pirates had a habit of causing minimal destruction. If they could salvage it, they could sell or use it. And so it came to be, that 1 week after being contacted by the Imperial fists, I was taking my ship out to roam the trading lanes between the nearby local planets, running from one planet to another, hoping to get seen as a target for the pirates to jump on, and for once my luck failed me. several weeks of playing bait yielded no results, and I started fearing that the Astartes might get impatient, but every time I approached the subject, I was met with reassurances that the time would come for our trap to be sprung, we just had to be patient. I was not so sure, and the constant waiting was taking its toll on me. My crew saw it as a vacation, spending their reduced work hours on anything one could think of, from illicit gambling and trading to engaging in hobbies like metal carving and painting. I guess even in this universe, people need something to distract them from the horrors they face in life. It had been damn near a month and I was slowly going mental from the waiting when suddenly the alarm Klaxons sounded throughout the ship. I was on the bridge when it happened and was immediately informed that a small group of 3 unidentified ships was approaching fast. Pressing a button, I connected to the vox in the Navigators sanctum and ordered him to inform the Astartes on standby. Meanwhile, the crew on my bridge was busy turning my ship around to turn tail and run. While the leading ship was a Hazeroth class like my own ship, the 2 Escort Carriers* flying in formation alongside the pirate would surely spell doom if I chose to stay and fight. So, for now, I would have to take on the role of a lone merchant, running scared without a plan. As the ship turned around and started running, we still had a good 3 million kilometers of distance from the enemy. With a ship lance battery having an effective range of roughly 300.000 kilometers, and Las Burners having only 2/3 of the effective range and power, we were well beyond any attempts at hitting, much less damaging us. We were losing ground, but it had become a race to reach safety before we were intercepted, and even when we were, we would be looking at a few good hours of combat before we would realistically have lost. After running the calculations, it was estimated that we could keep running for close to 22 hours before being in the range of the enemy weapons, and from the response I got from Farsyn, our reinforcements were a mere 15 hours away. He also delivered an urgent request to fake an engine problem and slow down to make the arrival of our reinforcements match as closely as possible with the projected arrival of the Astartes Strike Cruiser and chose to take the advice. Or some of it, slowing down enough for the intercept to match a 16-hour mark, giving us ample time for any minor mishaps to slow down the Strike Cruiser. When the orders were given I retreated to my cabin and donned my carapace armor. Luck favored the well-prepared, and I had no intention of being caught slipping, especially not when working with Astartes. Sure, it was going to take a whole lot more to get proper recognition from an Astartes chapter, but being known as at least competent enough to follow orders and prepare for the worst, just in case, would go a long way to not getting dismissed outright in any future dealings. Emerging once more, fully armored and with my stub cannon on my hip, I took my place at the helm and accepted the fate of waiting while the chase was on. I fell into a steady rhythm of updates about distance to the enemy, course changes, engine status, and a myriad of other minor things that helped me pass the time. I admit, I did send a prayer the Emperor''s way at every hour, but that was more for my own mental state than in the hopes of it actually helping. I found that praying calmed me down during long periods of increased stress, like waiting for action. The hours slowly ticked away and the pirates slowly got closer, my wish to contact the Astartes, growing with each passing hour, but having the navigator contact them yielded the chance of the pirates'' navigator picking up on the transmission of a message, alerting them that foul play was taking place. So I would have to be content with hoping they would be there. Not that I was too worried, we were talking about the Imperial fists. The only chapter with a sense of duty that could rival the Ultramarines. I remember reading a fan theory back home about the Ultramarines only being so successful because Orks believe blue increases luck. So having an Astartes chapter completely decked out in royal blue, was bound to have the orks mess up something, considering the psychic bleeding effect of all orks, and the way it actively influenced the universe around them. Not that I ever put much faith in the fan theory, but it was a fun line of thought nonetheless, and it would cause most if not all Imperial branches to have a collectively blown mind if it ever became a public theory in this world. Entire star systems would be scoured clean of life in an attempt to eradicate the idea. My mind was drifting, and I returned it to the present, focusing on the tactical display in front of me. Slowly, kilometer by kilometer, the pirates were gaining on us. And I had no way of trying fancy maneuvers to try and increase the distance. The 2 escorts ship made sure of that. It was a brilliant, yet very simple and very human, hunting strategy. Persistence hunting. Hunting something down fast enough that it doesn''t get to rest up between bouts of chasing, but slow enough that you could keep it up for days if needed. I could of course attempt a warp jump, but they would simply follow me to my destination, making the whole thing redundant and a wasted effort. So there was only running and hoping the plan would work. It most likely would though, the Imperial Fists would not allow something as menial as a band of pirates to stain their reputation. As the hours closed in and the pirates closed the distance, I started growing nervous. I did my best to not show it, but this was my first real engagement in void combat, and I could not escape the fact that I was massively worried. I was up against experienced renegades, I was in charge of a void ship, commanding over 25000 crew and soldiers. And all I had to support the choices I made, was a few weeks of reading, some basic soldier training, and my fanboy knowledge from back home. And of course, the system I was a part of. I had not checked up on it since the ship entered the void, and I felt a little disgusted by my own lack of interest in something that gave me such a blatant advantage, but it would have to wait until after this little intermission in life. At 3 hours left until the supposed arrival of my Astartes allies, the vox operator informed me that I was being hailed. I gave the order to ognore the hails, seeing to point in incurring both the wrath of Elris and the Imperial fists by initiating contact with a renegade. "Incoming message" The operator informed me moments later. "What does it say?" I asked quickly. "... The system brings us all together. The renegades know the truth." The answer came after a moment of hesitation, the confusion evident in the trooper. "Insane ramblings of a renegade degenerate. Purge the message, no response." I said with as much disgust as I could muster. Elris nodded in approval and the men and women operating on the bridge collectively sighed in silent relief. But my mind was racing. The renegades knew of the system? And what was that about the system bringing them together? There was no chance I could exchange words with this person, but if the renegades knew about the system, I had to find a way to get Elris off my ship and gain true freedom. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. But if my opponent was a system user, surely it would aid them in the coming battle. Then again, the system was mostly a bonus for the individual, not the collective, at least not from what I had seen, beyond a very circumstantial ability of mine. In a void fight, it was more or less useless. So everything hinged on me having taken well to the self-imposed training of mine, to make me at least somewhat useful in the coming conflict. Even with an Astartes strike cruiser backing me up, I would still have to contest with the 2 escort ships, while they boarded and disabled the renegade Hazeroth, using boarding torpedos**. No matter, they were not big enough to present a serious threat unless I allowed them to be one. Our shields were strong, I had enough troops to repel boarding attempts, and while my weapons were not as good as they could be, they would still be enough. As for how much damage I would sustain, that depended on how well my crew performed, what orders I gave, the same for the 2 escort ships, and a million other little things. So, it would be more or less random. The minutes ticked by as the tension grew palpable on board my ship. The orders shouted between the crew became sharper in tone and less forgiving about minor mistakes. Several smaller fights almost erupted, and only the intervention of my guardsmen prevented it from escalating I would need to recruit more bosun''s to keep the peace among my crew. This gave me an idea concerning Elris, but it needed more thought before I could consider it viable. But maybe increasing the ship''s number of Confessor''s*** could convince her that I was pious enough for her to resume her regular duties. Sure, we had fun at night, but I was under no illusions in that regard. I was a pleasant distraction from her duties, but nothing more than that. 300 years of rooting out heresy from within had hardened her heart to a point where concepts such as "love" and "Compassion" only existed to express her feelings about the Emperor and the Imperium in general. It didn''t make her visit any less fun, but it made it that much easier to leave her behind. I wanted home, and to get it, I would have to rid myself of Imperial representatives, which included future fleet commissars. They had the power to declare entire crews, including the captain, unfit for service, an effective way of keeping captains in check. Which also explained the blatant lack of them on most, if not all, rogue trader ships. Nobody wants someone nearby that has the power to have one of the freest agents in the Imperium, restrained and possibly executed, on nothing more than twisting of words and events, and an intent to take them out of service. The warning Klaxon ringing out across the ship ripped me out of my introspection and I returned my focus to the present. "Ship transitioning into system!" The lieutenant in charge of the station called out to me, and I snapped my eyes to the large viewport surrounding the bridge. True to the trooper''s words, A massive circular portal opened up and a light strike cruiser emerged from within, the 4? kilometer-long ship quickly entered realspace, revealing that all engines were firing and they were headed straight at the main ship of the 3 in pursuit. I gave the order to turn around and provide escort for the strike cruiser. Despite momentary panic from the renegade pirates, they quickly regained their composure. They opted for sending 1 of the escort ship to tie up my ship while they attempted to take down the strike cruiser. Against a baseline human, it would have made sense. But pitted against Astartes, with their superior... Everything, really. It was a fruitless effort, that I later learned saw the destruction of the escort ship before the boarding space marines had taken the bridge of the hazeroth. But I had my own dance partner, and I planned to wear them out quickly. Overall, I had a better ship, a larger crew, and more to live for. I also had backup, in case things went badly, but it was unlikely. As we closed on the escort ship, I ordered the void shields raised and weapons prepared to combat. I would be faced with a choice, as to whether I wanted to board the enemy vessel or try to disable it from the safety of distance. While a boarding action would get me another ship, I did not have the manpower to spare, at least not at the moment, to undertake such a risk. So blasting them from a distance was the choice of the day. "Get us within range of the macro cannons**** and Lasburners. I want to see that ship turned into debris before our Astartes allies are finished with their prey!" I demanded and my order was immediately put into effect. The first salvo was exchanged and the shields held on both sides, but then one of the Lasburners fired and seared against the void shield of the escort ship. The shield buckled and crackled under the onslaught, but ultimately held out. They fired back, and we began a dance of death in the void. As long as the shields held, this pattern of fire and return fire would continue until either, a critical ship component would get hit, like the engines or bridge, or one of us blew up under the furious assault of the guns. But it never got to that point. after around 40 minutes of combat, their shield was noticeably weaker and flickered every so often, but I never got to deliver the deathblow, as 2 torpedos came flying from the direction of the Astartes strike cruiser, one made the shield fail and the next one connected cleanly with the engine. Judging from the way the engine compartment ripped the ship apart shortly after, instead of blowing up immediately, told me it was a Melta torpedo they had used. Punching its way through the armor and setting everything inside ablaze, the short flash of roughly 15 million degrees Celsius was enough to melt parts of the superstructure the ship was built around. Switching my attention, I saw the other escort ship drifting aimlessly away from the battle, while the hazeroth was simply hanging in space, with thunderhawks flying back and forth between it and the strike cruiser. Once more, the superiority of an Astartes mind made itself evident. The space marines lived combat. They breathed combat. They saw combat in the name of the Emperor as the singular purpose of their existence, and they had hundreds, theoretically thousands of years to learn how to be better at it. Going up against a strike cruiser, even 2 on 1, was bound to end in your demise, unless you had Astartes on your side or your ships were SIGNIFICANTLY bigger and better defended, both inside and out. I was debating internally whether to keep an escort ship for myself or not, but that choice was made for me as more torpedos made contact with both ships and turned them into a field of fine debris. The Hazeroth was still intact, but I doubted I could lay claim to a ship that matched my own when a renegade had been the captain. It would be stripped clean, examined inside and out, split up, and used for spare parts. Those parts deemed salvageable, anyhow. Demias walked onto my bridge once more to thank me for my generous assistance and to offer assistance in any future ventures I might undertake in this area of space. Mostly empty words meant to keep up etiquette, but there was a kernel of truth in them. This action would indeed give me, no matter how small and insignificant, a minor claim to help that would carry more weight once my actions here were taken into consideration. "One last thing." Demias rumbled as he was about to bid us farewell. "A message was sent from the renegade to your ship, and the contents worry us. The familiarity of the message suggested he had knowledge of you, and whatever system he was talking about, I hope you have a good explanation, rogue trader." with horror, I realized that the powerfist****** equipped on his armor had crackled to life, The threat in the words was barely veiled, the need for such niceties was well past, especially when you remembered that the 5 honor guards of the sergeant would be more than enough to take this ship under their control, should they wish it. My saving grace came from an unexpected source, to put it mildly. "The trader captain is a faithful servant of the Emperor. He dismissed the ramblings of the madman as such and ordered the message purged from the system, with no reply, the moment he learned what it contained." The young commissar that was still traveling with me to keep Trokk under control until he had been bonded enough to me to put my safety above all else, spoke up, and everyone turned their head to look at him. This was a significant testimony to my character, as the commissars were exceptionally well known to be suspicious and distrustful by nature. "I can confirm the commissar''s words, I was standing nearby the captain when he gave the order," Elris spoke up as well. and faced with an inquisitorial agent and a commissar, in agreement, Demias capitulated quickly. "Very well, for a moment I was prepared to deliver the Emperor''s mercy to you, just to be safe. But it would seem I have misjudged your character. Keep your faith strong and your bolter armed, rogue trader. Farewell." And with that, Demias turned on his heels and walked back toward the thunderhawk that would carry him and his honor guard back to their strike cruiser. I was once more struck by how close I had been to death. If Demias had been so inclined, no force in the nearby void could have prevented my death, along with every single other mortal on my ship. Say what you want about the Imperial Fists, but they are effective and tenacious. When the strike cruiser had warped out of the system, I messaged Farsyn to plot our course once more and get us underway. We had already wasted a month for nothing more than a "thank you" and a handshake. It was time for us to do something a little more profitable and interesting than playing bait for the Astartes. Bakka waited for us, and with it, a wealth of opportunities! Chapter 23: Heresy without, heresy within. The rest of our journey passed in relative peace and quiet. Elris had relaxed with her witch hunt among the crew, due in no small part to my appointing several of the more pious crew, those that spent most, if not all, of their time at the shrines where they prayed fervently to the Emperor. These preachers had, with my blessing, been given authority to start their own gatherings of followers among the crew to serve as makeshift temple and church attendants, until I could either get my hands on a smaller escort ship I could turn into a flying cathedral to serve the spiritual needs of my crew, and of course show of my piety to the ecclesiarchy, or at least turn a spare hangar into a permanent temple. Later on, the natural need for humanity to see one among them rise to be a leader would see one or more confessors appear, chosen by the preachers to be the link between the ecclesiarchy, and the officers on board the ship. I didn''t mind that at all, as they did not have enough authority to be able to touch me. They did, however, have the authority to hound me ceaselessly, and report me to the ecclesiarchy as well, should I start falling from the Emperor''s light. A small price to pay for the freedom that was at my fingertips. I just had two more problems to deal with, and I would be truly free. One commissar, which would leave my ship as soon as we reached Bakka, his almost godlike patience, and open-minded understanding was needed to train more Ogryns into useful soldiers and guards. The other problem was a tad more difficult. A long-legged, red-haired, church-sanctioned killer, with a specialty in infiltration and information extraction. Not only would she be difficult to rid myself of, but I would also miss her company at night, though I would not have any trouble there. A word, a command, a single indication was all that was needed and most, if not all, female crew members and/or troopers would come to my chambers. A chance to climb the social ladder was always jumped upon, and the women of this universe fully understood the advantage they could wield simply by being women. Of course, had I been born into a rogue trader dynasty I would have had obligations and duties to the bloodline that required me to marry very specifically, to further political alliances and send signals of allegiance, but as a newly anointed rogue trader, if slightly hampered by the lack of ability to create a lasting dynasty, I was fair game to any and all women in the galaxy. This could be both advantageous and dangerous. There would be nobles that would want to lock me in marriage with daughters, or sons had my desires been such. The Imperium did not discriminate against your sexual preference, as long as you did your assigned duty. I was hoping that the rapid increase in preachers and the knowledge that they would soon elect confessors among themselves would convince Elris that there was a far better use for her skills elsewhere. The Ecclesiarchy hadn''t trained her the way they had, just for her to hide away on the ship of an emerging rogue trader. And maybe, just maybe, I could nudge things in the right direction, if I played my card right when we hit Bakka. It shouldn''t be difficult to get a meeting with a high-ranking official to influence toward the right choice, for the safety and protection of the Imperium of course. As the days passed and my newly appointed preachers took to their new stations with gusto, Elris found herself in the rather unique position of being content with the faith of the crew, but incredibly frustrated as she had nothing to do. The way she skulked around the shadows of the corridors of the ship at all hours, spoke of a woman that sought some form of distraction or work. Anything other than the tedious waiting of warp travel. She lamented her boredom to me in private, taking great care to express that she was not unhappy with the state of things, but rather with her inability to do her assigned job. The engagement with the renegades had even made the crew accept the contingent of guardsmen I brought with me when I took the ship into possession, meaning she couldn''t even divert her attention to peace-keeping duties anymore. It was perfect for me and my plans. Eventually, she approached me one evening after I had withdrawn to my quarters. "You have done very well in your new role, Bj?rk. You have adapted better than imagined, and all while keeping your faith in the Emperor strong and your opinion of yourself humble. I do not doubt that the Imperium will benefit greatly from your service. But my duties call me to seek out heresy within and eradicate it where ever I find it. And from your recent promotion of several preachers, your immediate dismissal of contact with a renegade captain, and the willingness with which you offered your assistance to the Astartes, I see no reason to remain aboard your flagship for any longer than it takes for us to reach Bakka. A station of that size is bound to have degenerates and scum that requires purging, and I plan to offer my assistance to the local Ecclesiarchial representatives. It has been fun, and you have been an interesting experience, but duty calls." I had to suppress a smile as Elris was trying hard to make it sound as if she was reluctant to go, but I knew better. She was going crazy from not having anything to do and this was the best excuse she could come up with to find a new way to continue snuffing out life in the name of the Emperor. But I had to keep up with the act to ensure her departure. "I cannot say I am happy about this, Elris, but we must all serve the Emperor as best as we can. But I want to thank you for your invaluable assistance in making this a successful venture, for both me and the Ecclesiarchy. I am going to miss having you on board, but as you said, duty calls. Though, I am going to have to get used to sleeping alone once more." I played my part beautifully, and my words put a sly smile on her face before she shook her head and said, "Please, Bjork, don''t give me that. You have been a pleasant way to pass the time, but we each have our path to follow. And I am curious how you will fare without the guiding hand of the Ecclesiarchy to guide you. Don''t think I don''t see what you are doing. Appointing more preachers, giving me more free time to do nothing, while you bury yourself in data slates and studies. You want me off the ship, which I was planning anyway. But I admit that our encounter with the renegade, and your immediate dismissal of his attempts to communicate have hastened my decision to do so. I understand you want to stand on your own legs and start building a fortune and a name, like other rogue traders. Just don''t forget who you answer to!" Her voice was warm and intimate while speaking, but the last sentence was delivered with enough seriousness to convey the message perfectly. There would be eyes casting their gaze in my direction from time to time, and I had better continue delivering results. Not that I worried about that, in the veiled region, which was the closest uncharted area of, relative, safety where I could run back to friendlier territory if things got out of hand, there would be plenty of planets and areas of space to explore, renegades to find and question about the system, and who knew what else to find among the unexplored stars. "Alright, Elris. You got me. I AM eager to stand on my own two legs. Don''t get me wrong, I appreciate both the help and the companionship you have offered, and I would be lying if I said I would have done fine on my own. Blessed throne, I doubt I would have known how to properly deal with the Emperor''s angels of death, had it not been for you and the work you have done for me. Thank you." Might as well come clean and throw a bit of flattery in there for good measure. Elris didn''t respond beyond a smile and a nod, and then she left for her quarters, leaving me to contemplate the near future. Elris had solved a problem that had caused me no small amount of headaches. And she had done so of her own free will, even if it was for reasons that I had completely overlooked as a possibility. Sheer, absolute, boredom. I leaned back in my chair and gave it some more thought. Boredom was not a thing in the Imperium. If you had time left over when you met your work quota, you just kept working in the hopes of getting ahead on the quota for tomorrow, which would never happen. Even among leaders, boredom was not a thing that existed as there was always something to do when you were in a position of power. Only at the very top of the social order, among the planetary rulers and the oldest of the rogue traders, could you find boredom regularly, which was also the reason for, relatively, many planetary rulers succumbing to the influence of the ruinous powers of chaos on a regular basis. When you have everything you could dream of, and no one to rein in your delusions, then corruption, nepotism, perversion, and degeneracy usually entered the picture, and the Imperium was a perfect example of this. The more power you gave an individual from the Imperium, the greater the chances of them being corrupted by the ruinous powers. For all its posturing and proclamation of greatness, the very way the Imperium was built up provided ample ground for the seeds of heresy to take place. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. It struck me how casually I was thinking of the Imperial cult as the basic truth at this point. When had I become so casually religious? or what it just a way of thinking that made my current life make sense? It was true, I felt more calm and peaceful after praying, but that could just as well have come as a result of focusing my thought on a singular thing, like meditation back home. only, they had found a way to combine it with religious indoctrination. In a way, it was a beautiful piece of social engineering taking place every hour, of every day, across the entirety of the Imperiums holdings. It also gave the Ecclesiarchy an immense amount of power, as the official state church. I suddenly remembered that I hadn''t checked my status screen in a while, and seeing as I had nothing to do and I was alone in my private quarters, what better chance to do so? HUMAN. LEVEL 6. STAT POINTS REMAINING: 5 ALIGNMENT: FAITHFUL IMPERIAL- LITANIES: 35 AUGMENTATIONS: Cybernetic lung(upgrade lvl1, Toxins/environment) LEVEL:9728/19200 STRENGTH: 11 AGILITY: 9 PERCEPTION: 13 WILL: 14 LUCK: 31 PSYCHE: 4/500 SKILLS FEATS ABILITIES RETINUE Huh, new level. which of course meant 5 more stat points to play with. My luck was already my highest stat by more than double that of my second highest, so there was no reason to pump that even more for the time being. My agility was the lowest stat, and I was standing in front of a choice for the future. I could keep pumping my will, luck, and perception stats, ignore strength and agility, use bionics to compensate, and armor to protect myself. Or, I could try to catch up with agility and a bit more strength, and start relying on natural skill rather than armor and, frankly, unneeded bionic upgrades. I would have to ponder this question before I allocated the points, but it would have to happen soon. Far too many times had I left points to be allocated when they could have helped me out. I needed to stop being so timid with my choices and start accepting my choices as I made them. Psyche had also increased a small amount even If I didn''t use it. That was worrying. It would seem that just being connected to the warp as a psyker, caused the warp powers to slowly, ever so slowly, increase on their own. That meant I NEEDED to train to keep myself safe, eventually, or suffer a fate worse than death. Being an unbound daemonhost* was about as bad as it could ever get in this universe, having my very soul condemned to eternal suffering and torture. If I did not train my psychic abilities, I would not know how to mask them, and that would make me shine like a lighthouse in the night, for any psykers or warp entities that might be interested in an untapped and untrained source of psychic energy. Which meant, everyone. Provided, of course, I didn''t get picked up by the black ships and used as a sacrificial offering to keep the golden throne working. Funny, it only took me to be transported to another universe, in one of the worst possible places to appear, to start improving myself as a man. I would have cried if not for the irony. But why hadn''t my quest to become a rogue trader finished? I was promised a reward upon achieving the title, yet, my pool of stat points remained suspiciously low. What is up with that, system? Where the hell is my bloody quest completion reward? I couldn''t do anything about it, so there was nothing gained by wasting thought on it, but damn it, that was not fair! If there were hidden stipulations, or parameters for completion, it wasn''t fair to keep that information from me. I rubbed my temples and prepared to turn in for the night when my personal vox made a noise. I pressed a button on the wall to connect the attempted communication. "Speak!" I demanded tiredly. "Sir, the Ogryn is out of control! He is trying to break through a bulkhead to get into some of the crew quarters!" The voice of the trooper on the other end was frantic and panicked, and it kicked e out of my tired state in an instant. A rampaging Ogryn, on a ship traveling through the warp. The implications were horrendous and it was made all the more terrible when you realized that Trokk was a freak of nature, even among Ogryns. His 600 strength was a testament to the sturdy nature of Imperial construction if he had not managed to get through the bulkhead to whatever had enraged him. "Inform the commissar!" I yelled into the vox and jumped from y chair to the lift that would take me to the bridge. Every second felt like a minute on the very short trip down, and I was greeted by the sight of a panicking bridge crew that stared fearfully down the corridors on the far end. A guardsman was fidgeting and shaking as he stood by the lift, waiting for me. "Lead the way" I commanded as I jumped off the lift before it touched down, and the trooper shot me a look like I had ordered him to charge a space marine, but he hunched his shoulders and started running, with me in close pursuit. It only took a minute before we could hear the efforts of a 9-foot behemoth trying to break down a pressurized steel door designed for regular humans to use. From the roars of anger and frustration and the loud banging of what I could only assume to be a part of the ship he had acquired to serve as a bludgeoning tool, it sounded like my new bodyguard had indeed lost his mind completely. We rounded a corner and the sight that greeted us made my blood freeze for a moment. Every vein on Trokk''s massive body was bulging as if it was about to burst open, he was screaming and roaring like a madman possessed, and he was hammering relentlessly on the door with a large piece of piping he had ripped off the wall, covering the hallway in a thick layer of steam. "TROKK! STOP!" I yelled as loud as I could, but I couldn''t even hear myself over the noise the Ogryn was making. A moment later the commissar arrived, took in the situation in a heartbeat, drew his bolt pistol, and fired it once at the nearest unfortunate crew member standing nearby. The poor man''s left side of the torso exploded in a shower of blood and chunks of meat, covering the dozen or so crew embers behind him in blood and gore. The sound of the shot was deafening in the tight corridors inside the ship and it was enough to make Trokk turn his head, see the commissar swing his bolt pistol around to aim it at Trokk, and bellow out "CEASE IMMEDIATELY, TROKK!" With enough volume to make my chest vibrate. No doubt he had vocal implants that allowed him to raise his voice above the cacophony of battle to give orders. Now THAT was an implant I would like to get my hands on at the earliest possible chance. The rampaging Ogryn halted for just a moment, and it was enough for his primitive augmented mind to kick back in and realize that he had been given an order. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lowered the pipe and put it on the ground before stepping back from it, at which point the commissar holstered his bolt pistol and walked over to the now very embarrassed and frightened Ogryn. They must have classes on how to walk because there was something deeply menacing about the way the commissar dug his heels in with every step. Not a sound was heard over the clicking of his heels against the steel hull and he didn''t stop until he was right in front of the towering abhuman. "Explain yourself!" His voice was barely more than a hissed whisper, but everyone heard it clear as day, and the lethal intent behind the words was palpable. "I heard the man say the Emperor was wrong and stupid." Trokk finally managed to stammer out, now shaking with fear at the thought of how much he had displeased the Emperor with his actions. His words made the commissar stiffen as if someone had slapped him across the face, but after a few seconds, he whirled around and pointed to the guardsman that had led me here. "You!" He said as he pointed the guardsman out, "Lockdown this entire section and assemble 10 squads here within the 30 minutes. There is heresy to snuff out!" The grin of malicious glee that crossed his face as he said the last words made even me feel uneasy. The man lived and breathed for the chance to kill anyone that didn''t follow the Imperial cult blindly. This was the only time he felt truly alive. Hunting and killing the enemies of the Imperium. I used my own vox to contact Elris. "What? Im packing!" came the irritated voice of the fiery redhead. "We have just locked down a section of crew quarters. Trokk was trying to break down a bulkhead. Apparently, he heard someone denouncing the Emperor." I said casually and waited for her response. When 30 seconds had passed I started worrying the excitement might have made her pass out, but another 15 seconds later I heard the sounds of running footsteps. Figures she wouldn''t even wait to tell me she was on her way, she was worse than the commissar when it came to religious zealotry. "Why are we not hunting down the heretics already?!?" She exclaimed as soon as she was within earshot, but before I could answer, the commissar broke into the conversation, "We need at least 10 squads to cover this area effectively. They will be assembled within the next 30 minutes, at which point we will start interrogations." "Very well, I will gather my tools then," Elris stated and started walking back to where she came from. "Trokk, I want you to stay with me as we do this. I have a feeling I might need you when this begins." I said and the, now quite shameful and subdued Ogryn dutifully took up his position by my left side and I started walking to the armory with him. Might as well get him armed if we were going to do this. With the commissar there, he wouldn''t do this kind of thing. Hopefully, I wouldn''t need the young man after we reached Bakka. I would have to spend more time with the Ogryn, and maybe find some way to interact with him, as I had done with others. But that had been accidental, and Trokk had cranial augmentations, making him smarter than the average Ogryn. That would have to wait, however, as we have heresy on board MY ship to root out. It was nice to be on the well-armed side, for once. Chapter 24: Final preparations before entering the fray. It barely took 15 minutes for the requested squads to assemble, they no doubt felt inspired by the trigger-happy commissar in a foul mood. I would love to tell a grand tale of hunting down a secret cult of heretics, culminating in an epic battle with a minor daemon. But I would be lying. The soldiers entered the section on lockdown and found the heretic believers already bound and ready to be given the Emperor''s mercy. It would seem the regular crew had already snuffed out those spreading propaganda against the Imperium and attempted to restrain them. This had caused conflict with the followers of the heretical thinking, both those who did so in the open and those who were hiding, no doubt to further spread the malicious influence onboard my ship. The result was a minor brawl that had been resolved before we entered and in the hopes of being spared a heretics death, the loyal crew had done our work for us. This was not enough for Elris or our young commissar, and they organized a thorough interrogation of every individual that had been inside the section in question, and for every heretic they found, their entire social circle and work colleagues were brought in for further questioning. In a single day they had rooted out and killed no less than 152 heretic believers, a not insignificant amount, but it was what it was. The rest of the ship sector was rounded up after the interrogations and gathered in a nearby hangar holding Valkyrie gunships. As they stood around nervously, surrounded by my guardsmen and murmuring amongst themselves. As I approached, flanked by Elris and the commissar, and Trokk lumbering close behind me, I could smell the fear in the air. They feared for their lives as they rightfully should. On most other ships in the Imperium, they would simply be shot and fed to the reactor core, as pragmatic and abrupt as the Imperium could make it. Can''t be a heretic when you are dead, and the engine can always use more fuel. However, I had very different plans for these people. They were indentured workers, doomed to an existence of back-breaking and mind-crushing labor until they broke down and died, or tried shirking their duties and got killed or turned into servitors. No pay, lousy and never enough food, cramped living conditions even by Imperial ship standards, frequent physical punishment, casual abuse from the voidsmen, high mortality rate, and low life expectancy. They lived in a concentration camp from back home, and most considered it a comfortable, if bleak, existence. I was about to become the closest thing to a god these people had ever laid their eyes on. We stopped as we reached the middle of the hangar and I felt the eyes of the gathered workers fall on us. "How do you wish to proceed with the rest of the workers, captain?" The commissar asked as we came to a stop, and I thought about it for a short second. Better to give the impression that I desired their counsel in this situation. "I would hear your advice before I decide," I told them, and they wasted no time in informing me of what they would have done. "Grant them the Emperor''s mercy. Who knows how many of them still believe in the heretics'' words." The commissar uttered without hesitation. "Let me take them to the Ecclesiarchy''s chambers once we reach Bakka. They will soon enough know what they know!" Elris said, glee and malicious intent oozing from her words. "No need for such frivolities. Better to send a clear and strong message, both to any heretics in hiding, and to the rest of the crew. That insubordination and radical thinking will be met with a swift death!" The commissar bristled at Elris''s words, and I had suspected he was measuring the cost versus gain on the fly and found it to be an extravagant use of resources that could be better spent on more tangible things, like soldiers on the frontline and firing squads for deserters. "What better message to send the unbelievers, than one of warning that they WILL be found, and brought to justice?" Elris retorted and I sensed a larger conflict brewing between the 2. It was bound to happen, the 2 conflicting branches of the Imperium would always see their organization first, the Imperium second, though they would state the opposite whenever pressed for answers, and in a twisted way, they did see it as the ultimate truth. In their minds, if their organization flourished, so did the Imperium. I cleared my throat and both Elris and the commissar snapped their heads to me before remembering that this was, in fact, my ship. And as a now full rogue trader, my authority was on par with the most powerful and influential individuals in the Imperium, at least on paper. I still had no legends tied to my name, but that would come in time. For now, I just needed the 2 to remember that the decision was ultimately mine, as the crew in question was a part of my ship. "What are you thinking, captain?" Elris asked, the strain of self-control evident in her voice and I now understood why she had never advanced beyond infiltration. She was emotional. She took things personally and had difficulty keeping personal opinion, and Imperial duty, separate. "Promote them," I said flatly, and they both stared at me like I was a talking tyranid that had just asked them to go get tea and crumpets. "I''m serious," I said after a moment of stunned silence. "I can always use more dedicated voidsmen. They would be bound to the ship, no different from their current situation, there would be soldiers around them at all times along with the officers, they would serve the ship for the rest of their mortal lives, and it would show the rest of the crew that not only is Imperial duty expected to be followed, but doing it well is also rewarded. If we do this, I do not doubt that more heretics will suddenly be ousted by people that realize the folly of listening to heretical thoughts and opinions, in the days to come. Besides, what better way to ensure loyalty, than binding their service to my ship? Part of the ship, part of the crew." I could hear the wheels in their heads turning as they mulled over my words. My logic was sound and it would not only spare the Imperium the resources, meager as they were, to replenish said indentured workers, but binding them to permanent service onboard my ship by freeing them from indentured servitude would show I was more generous than most when it came to excelling at your duties and obligations to the Imperium, thus increasing overall crew loyalty. They were hesitant around me as I was still an unknown entity. They had no idea if I was a spoiled noble son from the upper spires of a hive world, the heir to a long and ancient dynasty of rogue traders, steeped in tradition and etiquette, or a newcomer. My mood and my reactions were unknown to them. I might shoot a messenger, or reward him for bringing me news, good or bad, swiftly and without delay. This action would cement to the entire crew that I was strict but far more generous and fair than they could have ever hoped for. "That is... Quite benevolent of you, considering the circumstances." The commissar said. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. "What circumstances? They did their Imperial duty upon discovering heresy in their midst. What more could you ask of them?" I countered. Elris interjected, "Heresy should never have found its way in there, to begin with!" "By that logic, we should punish every single person on board, ourselves included. No, my desicion stands. These men and women are to be freed from indentured work, on condition they enter into service as voidsmen on this ship. Unless, of course, one of you wants to start giving orders on my ship?" This was the first time I assumed a position of authority over Elris and the commissar, but not only was it my right to do so in this situation, as it involved the crew on my ship, but it was also about time I showed them that I was no pushover. Of course, captain, it will be as you command." Elris responded with the slightest hint of amusement in her voice. The commissar took a little longer to accept things, but eventually managed a "very well" before he turned on his heel and walked out of the hangar. "Well, captain. Your subjects are waiting." Elris said and made a theatrical gesture toward the large group of crewmembers huddled together under the watchful gaze of a few dozen guardsmen. I took a few steps forward and cleared my throat before speaking to the gathered workers. "Loyal citizens of the Imperium. You have been put in an extraordinary situation and acted like true Imperials. As a result of your swift action upon the discovery of heresy, the apostates were granted the Emperor''s mercy before they could spread their cancerous beliefs and thought any more than they already had. The Imperium thanks you for your service, as do I. Therefore, those of you that may wish it, will be offered a chance to enter into my service as voidsmen, a significant promotion from your current life. There will be a period of training and testing, but I am confident that you will all prove more than capable. Those that do not wish to take this opportunity may leave at once. Those that wish to become sworn voidsmen may stay and a sergeant will come to assign you to your new living quarters. Ave Imperator!" My last words were echoed by everyone present and for a short second, I felt the power of having thousands of people ready to obey your every command. The roar from the workers was loud and enthusiastic, and when I looked over the crowd, I saw nothing but adoration and gratefulness in their eyes. "It would seem you were not mistaken. Rarely have I seen such sad fates, look at their lord with such reverence. It is usually fear and duty that motivates the troops. I must admit, this confuses me, Bj?rk. How did you ever think of this as a viable option?" Elris sounded genuinely intrigued, as if the thought of treating those beneath you like anything other than dirt, was as alien to her as the idea of not killing a heretic. I shrugged slightly before responding, "You gain more favor among the men with Rahzvod than Rotgut." Then Elris did something I had not heard before. She laughed. Not a controlled chuckle, or an amused snicker, but a bubbly laugh that was better suited for a young innocent woman, than the centuries-old killer in front of me. She laughed until the tears rolled down her cheeks and she gasped for air. "That''s a good one! I will have to remember that one! It might even make an Astartes laugh!" "...I wasn''t even trying to be funny..." I murmured, which only increased her laughing fit. To their credit, the guardsmen had hurried the soon-to-be voidsmen away as, unsurprisingly, none had opted to remain an indentured worker. Sure, being a voidsman was not much better, but you got paid, meaning you could escape reality with alcohol or drugs for a few hours when you were not on duty, and you had the occasional shore leave whenever the ship made port. All in all, I had massively upgraded their quality of life, or at least given them a chance at getting said upgrade. For the entire rest of the day, Elris would snicker every time she saw me, and I had to admit it was getting annoying. Was this universe so bleak that a badly performed crude joke was enough to warrant this kind of reaction?? Maybe I should have tried to become a comedian instead! Then again, comedy is usually based on satire, and if there is one thing I know the Imperium lacks, it is enough self-awareness to laugh at themselves. With this minor incident well over with, things quickly fell back into the routine of warp travel. My prediction also came true, as several more groups of heretical thinkers were exposed in the following week. I had a few more complaints from the voidmasters, on account of the new recruits I had thrown at them and the sudden drop in their worker numbers, but they knew better than to do more than light complaining. Besides, I was planning to let them do a run for indentured workers at the next hive world we reached. Press-ganging regular Imperial workers into indentured servitude was not a thing I was proud of having to do, but it was the way of things here. It still took another month to get near where I wanted us to be, and one fine morning, drinking my recaf and pouring over the local maps of the Segmentum, I was called to the bridge and informed of a vox communication from Bakka Naval base. "We are being hailed, captain." The vox operator informed me as soon as I left the elevator. "Bakka station is demanding we identify ourselves before we continue further. "Well, don''t keep them waiting. And inform them that I desire to speak with an Astartes representative at the earliest convenience. Be polite and make no demands, only requests. We would not benefit from insulting the Emperor''s angels." I ordered and took a seat in the command chair overseeing the bridge. Bakka Naval base was, as the name implied, host to Battlefleet Bakka, under the command of the Ultramarines. The poster boys of the Imperium. The spitting image of duty and going by the book, anything not supported by the Codex Astartes would not be undertaken. Thankfully, a rogue trader carried the same authority and freedom as an Astartes chapter master, meaning my authority over myself and anyone under my command was absolute. Well, except for the Inquisition when they desired something from me, but that is the price I have to pay for my freedom in a universe where such a word is considered quite filthy. The communications flew back and forth for a few moments and we were granted safe passage, for which I was sorely grateful. Having an Imperial naval base manned by Imperial fists, and the homeworld of the Crimson fists being located in a sector close to the naval base only added to the danger of approaching Segmentum Pacificus without proper authorization. Now the only choice left would be what to do once I had dropped off Elris and the commissar that had finished his duties in ensuring Trokk was loyal to me, and was now needed to train more abhumans for the frontlines. I could visit a hive world, replenish the indentured workers that had been uplifted, pick up some trading goods for my travels, and head out in search of new and unexplored worlds. I could visit a feudal world and stock up on food and possibly exotic goods, able to be sold at a great profit down the line. Maybe even pick up a few specialists in close combat to train my guard regiments. Being on a ship, close combat was inevitable, and if my troops had received superior training they would stand a better chance at surviving and succeeding. I could go hunting pirates and renegades, though this was a dangerous gamble. My ship was still only equipped with basic las burners and I only had one. Going pirate hunting, I would have much better chances if I could secure an escort ship or two. Or I could start digging around the underhive bars and communities, putting my ear to the ground and finding any rumor, tall tale, story, and adventure I can, and start looking for the answer I already desire with deep desperation, How do I get home? But this carried its own risk, my lacking reputation and lack of accomplishments granted me precious little goodwill when it came to doing things of... Questionable behavior, as far as the Imperium was concerned. It could draw the exact kind of attention I did not want, both from inside Imperial ranks and from the ruinous powers. So many options, and so little room to act. Chapter 25: Slumming it on Slud. The choice was obvious when I thought about it. I would have to find myself some melee specialists to train the soldiers under my command, the advantage could prove to be invaluable once I joined in ship-to-ship combat. But I also wanted to upgrade the general weaponry available to my soldiers. The voidsmen would need Shotcannons instead of the regular Ironclaw shotguns, and the voidmasters would enjoy being upgraded to the Lucius pattern mark 22c revolver/shotgun hybrid, preferred by the Death Korps of Krieg combat engineers. This would free a hand to wield a melee weapon, instead of relying on a cumbersome shotgun requiring both hands. maybe 400 or so of the Lathe pattern Boarding gun. The extreme recoil meant that only the biggest and strongest of the voidsmen could use it, but that would only add to the effect of boarding parties. The larger shells and the fact that it could fire all 3 barrels at once, meant that it could pulp anything that wasn''t clad in copious amounts of serious armor. Of course, it had a rather limited range, but for combat in void ships, it was perfect, the cramped and snaking corridors making optimal conditions for just such a weapon. A standard close-combat weapon would also have to be chosen and trained with, again, something that would give me the most bang for my buck. Axes were a good contender, but since they were favored by renegades and heretics, it would paint the wrong image of my soldiers, and it could not parry effectively as well. No, it would have to be some form of blade and I was leaning toward Falchions. Heavier than the cutlass and combining the best aspects of both the sword and the axe, they would deliver the results I desired, and with just a little gold ornamentation and a skull or two, they would look oh so good, when lining up to impress Imperial representatives. Of course, all of this was going to cost me a not insignificant amount of Imperial Thrones, but since I was going to a feudal world anyway, the blades would at least be cheap and well-made. I could pick up the guns at Bakka station, but I would either have to pay up or offer up my services as payment. One would not think it initially, but the freedom offered to my position could be a massive boon to any of the organizations in the Imperium, apart from the Inquisition. My best bet would be the Mechanicus, but I was not keen on dealing with those technophile zealots. It was more than enough to have to deal with my own Enginseer regularly. I could put in a requisition with the Administratum and receive my shipment in 15 or so years, my rank DID afford me some priority in regards to requisition requests. Naturally, I would have to go outside the official channels. We reached Bakka station within the next day and I was informed over the vox that that an Ultramarine, Captain Acheran, Master of the Watch, would be ready to receive me upon my arrival. We docked without much fuss and after convincing Trokk that he did not need the maul he now carried with him everywhere, ever since the incident with the apostates on the ship he and I walked off the ship, followed by the commissar and Elris. There was no need to ask around to find Captain Acheran, as he was standing a few hundred meters away, helmet tucked under his arm, sharp facial features adorned with a stoic look of quiet contemplation. Even without an honor guard, I had no doubts as to who he was. His mere presence was dominating, even from this distance. He commandeered your attention and drew it toward himself. The crisp blue of his armor stood out among the green, grey, and gold ships, and he towered above the regular humans scurrying around, dealing with a thousand different and menial tasks. He did not carry his bolter, but the chainsword on his hip was almost as big as I was tall. There was no amount of written lore from back home that could ever do justice to the aura of sheer intimidation that oozed from this man. He was wound up like a bowstring at the moment before you release the arrow, the destructive potential of this behemoth of a man, wearing enough armor to put a tank from my own world to shame, was nothing short of mind-shattering, and I had to stop myself from gawking as we walked toward him. Sure, I had met Astartes before, Demias to be specific, but he was nothing like the individual I was now facing. Demias, even with his honor guard, could potentially, although the chance would have been very slim, have been defeated by the collective effort of my ship. But this captain, growing larger as I approached, crushed any such illusions. If he so desired, his natural advantages combined with the 800 years of active service, indicated by the gold studs on his forehead, meant he alone could take out me and everyone I commanded with disgusting ease. "Trader Bj?rk. Welcome to Bakka Naval base." Acheran''s voice was comprised of gravel and rusted iron, the hoarse voice of a man that had been yelling orders and cursing his enemies for centuries. A man that had watched the decline of the Imperium he fought for, slow and agonizing, while he fought to preserve it. He looked every bit of his age and an aura of death and duty hung around him like a miasma, permeating the very air I breathed. Shooting glances at Elris and the commissar, I saw that they felt it as well, being near a being so powerful it bordered on incredulity. Even Trokk''s lumbering footsteps behind me had become more hesitant, slower, and not as confident. I was still a bit of a way away when the Captain spoke to me, and I had to raise my voice when I answered, "Thank you Captain Acheran, it is good to finally make port, even if it just for a short while." "You wished to speak to an Astartes representative upon your arrival. Speak." While not displeased, Acheran sounded Impatient, a rare thing for an Astartes to display emotion to a mortal, but then again, Master of the watch, Captain of the 2nd company of the Ultramarines chapter, was not a regular Astartes. "I plan to visit a feudal world, both for resupply and re-armament. However, I thought it prudent to seek information on the systems near the veiled region before I do so, as I plan to make excursions into the area and bring the Emperor''s light to the shrouded hideout for heretics and renegades." I saw no reason to dance around the subject, especially not faced with a disgruntled Astartes Captain, "And I would like to offer my services, humble as they may be, in exchange for said information. I am certain you have minor tasks that are better suited for someone of less import to the safety of the Imperium." I had no way to read the face of superhuman standing tall in front of me, but I hoped my passive skill for interaction with strangers would help me. "A moment, please," Acheran said as he put on his helmet and I heard the muted click of his internal vox activating. Figures, he would vox back to ask the chapter master. I could almost hear the internal grinding mantra that most assuredly rang continuously inside of his head. "The Codex Astartes does not support this action". I swear, if I actually hear that sentence, I will have to use all my willpower to not mock whoever says it. I know it would be a serious health hazard to do so, but damn it, no book could ever account for every possible situation! I waited for a minute before the helmet was removed again and Acheran fixed me with a stare that was, well, not friendly but at least not hostile either. "There may be something we can use you for," He rumbled, and the wording perplexed me for a second before I reminded myself how the Imperium worked, "The feudal world of Slud has had issues, and it has been decreed that a change in governor is needed. Since your intended destination happens to be our target of interest, we have a common goal. You will travel to Slud and take care of this situation in the Emperor''s name." It was not a request but an order, and something bristled in me at the thought. "I shall do this for you, Captain, but only because I so chose. As you said, we have a common goal, and doing this will benefit Imperium and allow me to accomplish my task at the same time." I had to cement a reputation for not getting pushed around and that meant pushing back against these minor attacks on my authority. Yes, it was a literal superhuman standing in front of me, a mere mortal, but my Imperial authority rivaled that of his immediate superior, the chapter master of the Ultramarines. My wording let him know that I wished to perform my duty as an Imperial subject, but also that I had my own agenda and I would not allow anyone to interfere with it. "As it must be" Acheran rumbled in reply, "All the relevant information has been forwarded to your ship. Take heed, Slud is a pre-industrial society and it is the wish of the Imperium that they remain unaware of the larger galaxy in general. Weapons and equipment planetside will be restricted to pre-industrial equipment only, to keep up the illusion. Breach of this order of secrecy will result in the immediate termination of the transgressor. Praise the Emperor." There was something incredibly intimidating about the way Acheran conveyed the threat. He had not moved a muscle, and yet his entire being was pressing down on me like a blanket made from adamantium and ceramite. Deciding he had spent enough of his valuable time on a mere mortal, however glorious my designated position deemed me, he turned on his heel and walked away without another word. I should not be surprised by the casual dismissal of someone, not an Astartes, especially not from a chapter o fanatically codex compliant as the Ultramarines. A small cough made me turn my head and the young commissar caught my eyes before he presented the Aquila, as stiff and formal as if he was being inspected by a former teacher from the Schola Progenium. When I had returned the salute he, to my great surprise, reached out a hand and I did not hesitate to extend my own in a warm handshake. "While you are as unconventional and strange as I was told, and your methods border on the heretical, I cannot argue with the results or the faith of your character. Trokk has also taken well to you, which I must admit is a bit of a surprise. He was a... Difficult, subject, very willful, and stubborn. But the Promotion to Bone Head did wonders for his ability to understand the need to obey his superiors. So to see him bond to you without much issue is... Enigmatic. I have asked him, but all he says is that you make happy noises. You will have to forgive me for asking, but could you elaborate on the subject?" The question was innocent enough, and his tone was light, but there was the slightest hint of a twinkle, deep in his eyes, and the tingling sensation along my spine was driving me crazy. I was balancing on the border between believable eccentricity and perceived heresy. "I whistle, commissar. Just random little happy tunes." I answered lightly, doing my best to come off as unbothered and slightly amused. "I see," His voice remained carefully neutral, and his next words were as predictable as they were expected. "And what can bring about such joy, besides a perverse reveling in your newly acquired power?" "Why, having done a good day''s work in the name of the Emperor, commissar. Does it not bring you immense joy to carry out the Emperor''s will?" I kept my voice light and chipper, but the trap had been laid and the commissar knew it just as well as I. He could say yes, at which point he would have to relent on this last attempt to wrestle my authority from me under the guise of Imperial duty. Or he could say no and stick to his accusations against me, calling his faith into question near an Inquisitorial agent in the form of Elris, who was standing less than 6 feet from him. The crooked and amused smile on her face did not escape my attention This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Of course it does!" The young commissar almost spat out the words in indignation over that implication, had he disagreed, and I got the thought that this might cause a divide between us, if I didn''t try mending it posthaste. "As I rightly assumed. Your dedication has been an inspiration to my crew and I will not forget the service you have provided on my ship." I was being honest and my voice betrayed that, turning the sour look on the face of the commissar to one of appeased calm. "But try whistling around the Ogryn, commissar. It does not matter what tune you whistle, they seem to respond well to the sound itself." He made a neutral grunt and stepped back, leaving me to turn to Elris. "I am staying until tomorrow. Your crew will need a little shore leave, and if you are looking to rearm your troops, I think it''s best if I escort you to the Ecclesiarchial representative on the naval base, and help you requisition what you need. Within reason of course." She was being formal, but I had a feeling she also wanted to say goodbye in private. So be it, one last time before we hit the open road. "Of course, I only seek to rearm the voidsmen and guardsmen. Lascarbines for the Guardsmen, shotcannons for the voidsmen, Lucius pattern mark 22c for the voidmasters, and around 400 Lathe pattern boarding guns. I figured the offset of the downgrading from Lasrifles to Lascarbines will make it equal out and if not, I am sure something can be worked out." I laid out what I needed and her eyes widened slightly. "That''s all? I thought you wanted to refit the ship." She exclaimed in surprise as she realized I was being serious. "Yes, that is all. Everything beyond that will have to be earned by smart choices and hard work." I told her and she nodded slowly in understanding. I wanted to prove my worth before claiming more resources. At least that''s how she interpreted it. I only saw it as a way to not strain my relationship with the Inquisition by being a burden. She nodded and we went on our way. I acquired the upgrade in weapons from the Naval Bases'' armory and got my stocks of basic supplies refilled. I granted a full day of leave for everyone that was not indentured or part of a penal crew, and it took almost a week before we had cycled through the crew, at which time I had been in contact with the planetary governor of Slud, the pompous fool was blissfully ignorant of the danger he was currently placed in. I also learned the reason for the needing change in leadership on Slud. The planetary governor, Dartsma Ret, had chosen to dramatically increase the price he charged the Imperium for his world''s ores. It was then that Imperial authorities decided to replace him with a more cooperative puppet, and where I came into the picture. Had any other representative of the Imperium arrived in orbit, he would have been immediately suspicious and have fled planetside, where they would have to restrict themselves in the gear they used to combat the troops loyal to him, out of fear of the planet''s population learning that more advanced technology existed. But as a rogue trader, and especially one looking to rearm his troops with quality melee weapons from a feudal world, I was not only able to arrive without suspicion but I would be welcomed with open arms as an opportunity to increase the size of their coffers was always jumped at by such individuals. I also spent my 5 points while cursing the system regularly for not granting me completed status on my quest to become a rogue trader, and after many restless hours, the only reason I could think of was that the Inquisition was not allowing me to roam as free as I liked to think. Which meant, they have me under strict surveillance. So naturally, I made sure to spend copious amounts of time at the cathedral on the station. A large amount of time spent praying meant that I gained quite a lot of litanies and a positive shift in my alignment. As for my points, I put 3 points into will, 1 into Agility, and 1 into Perception. I also spent time going over the accuracy exercise charts from the drills that were constantly being run by my crew. I was looking and hoping to find a trooper with over 95% accuracy. I had a plan to take the most accurate of my troopers and turn them into a support unit that would be used to pick off targets of interest, commanders, and officers, while the bulk of regular troopers made sure to keep the enemy occupied. In the end, my status screen looked pretty good. HUMAN. LEVEL 6. STAT POINTS REMAINING: 0 ALIGNMENT: FAITHFUL IMPERIAL+ LITANIES: 62 AUGMENTATIONS: Cybernetic lung(upgrade lvl1, Toxins/environment) LEVEL:9818/19200 STRENGTH: 11 AGILITY: 10 PERCEPTION: 14 WILL: 17 LUCK: 31 PSYCHE: 5/500 SKILLS FEATS ABILITIES RETINUE With everything done, the crew rested and rearmed, the immediate plan clear, and absolutely nothing to stand in my way going forward, we left Bakka Naval base and turned the ship toward Slud. Nothing noteworthy happened on the way there and we arrived in orbit above the planet where we got hailed by the nearby space station that housed the governor because of course the prick couldn''t be bothered to live on the same common dirt as the people that slaved their existence away so he could live a life of luxury and debauchery. After the standard back and forth over the vox, I ordered the ship to be docked at the station after being given permission. Not that he could refuse an Imperial ship, but it was always good to keep up appearances. Dartma Ret was there to greet me and the honor guard I had chosen. While no troopers had the accuracy scores for my little plan, at least not yet, there were a great many that were placed well above the 70% accuracy mark, and I had the voidmasters pick out 4 dozen of their most veteran and accomplished troopers to serve as my personal guard. For the occasion, I had dug out enough suits of full carapace armor from my ships armory to fully deck out my bodyguard, and with the new shotguns in hand, Laspistols, and combat knives on the hip, sharp eyes, and gruff faces, they joined Trokk and me as I made ready to leave my ship. I strode off the ship with Trokk following close behind me, his usual melee weapon replaced by a ripper gun without a loaded clip, no reason to tempt fate, and the designated honor guard in proper marching order behind me, we made for an impressive sight. The local guardsmen shot envious looks at the armor I had my men wear for the occasion, and they eyed the new shotcannons with both weary trepidation and jealous greed. My men looked professional, hardened, and extremely well-equipped for being regular guardsmen, just as you would expect from a rogue trader. In comparison, the troops on board the governors'' space station were undisciplined as evidenced by the idle chattering among them, lazy, if the state of their armor and weapons were anything to go by, and completely out of touch with how the Imperium worked, as several of the regular troops would openly challenge me by refusing to avert their gaze as I swept my eyes over them. They looked dirty and uninterested in doing their duty, more akin to the hive gangers I had fought, than actual guardsmen. It would seem that apathy and hedonism were spreading from their original host. "Welcome, welcome, to my humble station. I hope you had no trouble during the journey here?" The voice came from a ghastly individual, soft and delicate as only a politician could sound. My eyes found the owner of the voice, and I saw everything I had expected in a planetary governor that was on the line for failing his duty. Flabby, overweight, short, dressed in the most expensive and colorful of clothing, draped in jewelry made from precious metal and covered in shining gems. His shoes looked to be made from some form of silk, as well as the cloak that clung to his back, looking more like a napkin that got turned the wrong way. Sure, it might once have fit the man that was now approaching me with beads of sweat running down his forehead, from the exertion it took him to move his sizeable girth with a surprising speed. "None," I said gruffly as I looked down on the man sending me what I assumed was supposed to be a reassuring and warm smile that mostly came off as fake and treacherous. "Good, good. Now, I understand you wished to purchase some of the fine weapons produced here on my meager planet?" Dartman Ret rambled on, jumping straight to business. How typical, no tact or etiquette from this supposedly refined person of power and position. "Maybe, if they are of the quality I desire. I would wish to inspect the blades before we discuss this further, governor. For now, I would like you to arrange transport to the planet as well, as I require a blade master, and one of the trainers among your planet''s garrison will be the one to travel with me." I kept my voice gruff and blunt, refusing to let his slimy demeanor get to me, and I saw the fake smile turn stiff and the first crack appeared in the facade he was trying to present. "I am not sure you would find men of exceptional enough quality to satisfy your needs, Lord. Perhaps I could suggest.." He started, but I cut him off, intent on taking control of this interaction. It would shape how we interacted going forward. "You will not refuse this honor. The Imperium has needs, and they will be met by you and your loyal Imperial subjects!" I said sternly as I caught his gaze and I saw the fires of rebellion flare up for a short moment inside of him before he relented. His authority was great, but mine was greater, and refusing to yield would give me immediate grounds to remove him from office, by violence if needed. "Of course Lord, I was merely concerned with the quality of my troops. I would not wish anything but the best for the Emperor''s finest." The governor was starting to annoy me, and in turn, I had managed to annoy him, even if he was hiding it well. "When can we leave for the planet?" I pressed, and the question caught him off guard. "I-I-I can''t say with certainty, Lord," He stammered nervously, and I was struck by a sudden inspiration. "Very well, if you would follow me, we can take a Valkyrie from my ship and have this whole thing over with and a few hours. I have things to do, places to be, and I cannot afford to wait around!" I demanded and there was very little he could say to avoid going with me. At least, if there was a valid protest, he failed to come up with one, and we soon found ourselves heading through my ship, Dartma Ret now with an honor guard of his own. it doubled mine in size, but they neither had carapace armor, nor any weapons of note besides regular Lasrifles, replaced with simple bows and swords. My men''s armor was hidden beneath plain robes. A walk, a flight, and a solid walk as I refused to use the carriage that was waiting for the governor at the grove where we touched down, we soon found ourselves on the outskirts of the biggest town on the planet, the supposed seat of this whining and sweat-drenched excuse for a ruler. He had been complaining about having to walk ever since we left the ship, but I didn''t care. Even his own men, sloppy as they were, looked at him with disgust whenever he wasn''t watching them. Slud was not something to be proud of. Filthy people worked the fields with rounded backs, smoke bellowed up from the large city, the stench was unbelievable, and where ever we went, the peasants looked up from their fields in fear and awe. We were healthier and stronger than most people on the planet that was not part of the significant military needed to suppress the people and keep them obedient, living in conditions such as these. We didn''t carry any weapons besides the combat knives, and a select few troopers with Laspistols tucked away under their shirts. And of course, Trokk, that had been outfitted with the piping he had ripped off the wall in his attempt to break down a bulkhead. Mangled and twisted, there was no telling what the piece of metal had once been, so it was safe to bring along. Besides, Trokk drew more attention than anyone else, his cranial augmentation hidden beneath a simple hood, and his size and bulk made him stand out like a sore thumb. I had noticed the governor side-eye him with suspicion several times, but he never said anything as the hulking brute stuck close to my side. I now understood why he had been hesitant to go down here. It was a truly depressing setting, just miserable. Muck and grime everywhere, badly maintained roads, guards dressed in too much armor for regular peacetimes, serving to intimidate the general population, animals that looked like they bordered on being malnourished, and an endless train of carts arriving from every road in the horizon, dragging ore, coal, and food to the capital and the countless foundries and blacksmiths working there. Medieval slum at its finest. Oh, how I loathed this pathetic excuse for a leader already, but I still had a role to play before I could see to it that he was removed from office. And he would not be granted a quick death. I planned on handing him over to the Inquisition. That ought to ensure he was properly punished, provided he survived the extended stay in my ship''s prison, of course. With a deep internal sigh, I steeled myself for the sights to greet me when we entered the city gate that was already being swung wide open as medieval soldiers assembled to form an impromptu parade for the sudden surprise visit from the almost mythical ruler. Chapter 26: Well. That happened. The soldiers that lined the road as we came up on the gate, were all dressed in heavy half plates, mail skirts over their pants, and thick leather greaves that doubled as waterproof leggings. All of them carried long swords that looked well-maintained and well-used which made me wonder. What could they be using those blades on, besides the civilian population? There had been no reports of rebellion or heretical uprisings from Slud, so unless they were attacking people at random, there was little reason for their blades to carry that special shine a weapon only gets when it sees frequent use. They had arranged themselves into two neat rows flanking the road as we came walking up to the city, and even though I was wearing plain robes to hide the carapace armor beneath, It was obvious to all that it was me, not the governor, that was in charge at the current time. The fat little man was heaving for breath and looking desperately around for something to lean against, but there was nothing to be found except fields, gates, peasants, and soldiers. The contrast between us could not be greater. While I had spent quite a lot of time in my quarters, most of it studying, I had not neglected the occasional practice session with my handcannon and my combat knife. But a knife would never be good enough in this universe, which brought me to the present. As we crossed the threshold into the city, the wall of stench that hit me felt like a physical attack. Piss, shit, rotting dung heaps, dead animals and rodents, inns, industrial work, and a thousand other vile smells assaulted my nose and almost forced me to gag in response, but I managed to keep it together, even if it took a huge mental strain. The governor, on the other hand, did not fare as well. He hit the wall, made it 3 steps, and immediately emptied the contents of his stomach on the ground in front of him. With an audible whimper, he recollected himself and used a small silk handkerchief to wipe the vomit from his mouth. "I agree, governor, the stench is unbearable. Might I suggest splitting the city up, and creating dedicated zones for industry, housing, agriculture, and so on? I would solve some of the most immediate problems of cities such as this" I remarked and while I received no answer, I could sense the growing frustration in the flabby little dictator. Not that I blamed him, I would feel the same way if someone showed up on my ship and started insulting it right away. But I wanted him angry. Angry men make mistakes, and as a wise old Chinese philosopher once said, never interrupt your enemy when they are making a mistake. He might even order an attack on me and my men if I antagonized him enough, but that would also be a risk. If I used the Laspistols we had smuggled with us, inside the city, I would have to order the city cleansed of life. I had another idea and turned to my honor guard, pointing out 12 of them. "You 12, wait outside the city gate, and if I have not returned within the hour, consider it an attack on my person and flee to inform the ship," I said to the one closest to me, and I once more noticed a visible rise in the anger and frustration of the man huffing for breath while trying to minimize his air intake to avoid the smell. But also a level of worry if his body language was to be believed. Then again, fat and useless as he was, one did not become a planetary governor without some skill in politics and intrigue. I would have to keep my senses open at all times, just in case I was being played for a fool. The 12 troopers immediately presented the Aquila and hurried back to where we came from. As the rest of us proceeded into the city, the noise rose to levels of uncomfortability that rivaled the smell. Barking animals, noisy children, yelling shopkeepers, the hammering and sawing of the various industries, fistfights, religious processions, guards yelling orders, Inn''s with their already drunken patrons, beggars, thieves, and a thousand other sounds mixed to create a wall of sound you simply moved through, making it impossible to hear anything beyond what happened in your immediate vicinity. "TROKK!" I shouted and the giant man focused in on my voice. "Stay next to me while we are in the city." And he moved closer, almost brushing against me as we continued forward. I wasn''t worried about my security so much as I feared that the many sounds and noises would overstimulate Trokk. I wanted him within reach, in case it all got too much for him. If he lost his mind the way he lost it back on the ship... I shuddered at the thought, I doubted there was a soldier on this planet capable of putting down the Ogryn without the use of Imperial technology, which made for scary thinking. A freak of an Ogryn, rampaging through the largest city on a feudal world. Shit, that might be bad enough for the Inquisition to revoke my Letter of Marque. "Trokk, it is very important you stay close to me until we get back to the ship. If you don''t the Emperor will be very angry with you. And I do not want the Emperor to be angry with Trokk, because I like Trokk." I had to dumb it down a bit, even with his cranial augmentations, well hidden beneath his hood, but the giant abhuman moved close, so close that I could smell gunpowder residue still clinging to him from the firing drills this morning. That, and his questionable hygiene. We continued our trek through the city until we happened upon a collection of large stone buildings, unlike the wooden houses that dominated the streets. Armored soldiers were drilling in a square outside, messengers came running to and from the largest building, and the nearby stables were a flurry of activity. We had arrived at the guard quarters of the city. The man at the guard post was in the middle of a lazy yawn when he spotted us and the sight of the planetary governor made him try to stop yawning and call attention to the incoming visitors but only managed to get himself caught in a coughing fit. It did draw the attention of nearby soldiers who cried out in alarm and immediately snapped to parade rest, presenting the aquila to us as we approached. As we entered the drill square between the buildings, an elderly man in a magnificent steel armor with gold ornamentation and silver inlay weaving intricate patterns, left the large building that saw a steady stream of messengers, followed closely by fully plated knights, covered from head to toe in thick steel plating and sporting large claymore swords, held high and ready to strike any who might threaten their commander. We stopped 2 meters apart and silence gripped the square as the commander eyed me and my men, but especially Trokk. Not that I blamed him, my Ogryn bodyguard was indeed an impressive sight, even with his simple clothes and twisted metal piping. The governor, on the other hand, made for a sad sight. red-faced and heaving for breath with beads of sweat running rivers down his many chins, he was leaning on 2 of his men that seemed ready to collapse under the strain and I moved my attention to the commander to see his reaction. He was good, very good, as his face betrayed no emotion at all, but I saw the hint of disdain in his eyes. No wonder, he was the spitting image one would think of when thinking of a medieval military commander. Around 50 years old, small scars crisscrossing the small parts of him not covered in the ornate armor, one eye completely white, and a permanent look of angry displeasure etched on his face. "Greetings, commander," I said and he snapped his full attention to me, surprised that I spoke before the governor, but more or less unfazed. "Greetings, stranger. To what do we owe the pleasure of our lord and his guests, blessing us with their valuable time?" His words were impeccably chosen as the perfect greeting, but his tone and demeanor told the story of a man that considered this visit a massive nuisance and inconvenience, at best. "The Emperor needs your finest swordsman, and I am here to collect him. Old, young, noble, common, it matters not. What matters, is the skill of the individual you wish to stand before me." I did my best to sound authoritative and in charge, but the commander still glanced at the governor who simply nodded. Snapping his fingers, he summoned a messenger who immediately ran off after being tasked to find the swordsman in question. "While we are at it, I, as the Emperor''s agent, need a great number of blades. Are there blacksmiths in the city with a significant supply in stock?" I asked, making sure to let the commander know I did not expect him to solve this issue for me, beyond some basic directions. "By law, the only smiths permitted to make weapons are employed by the army. The armories should hold everything you desire if you can pay." It was obvious the old soldier took great delight in being an inconvenience. No matter, it would be solved once the new governor took the planet under command. "I need 3000 falchions and I am willing to trade you their weight in steel of equal quality, which you will accept and be happy about. Better they are used, than rotting away in the armory of a glorified extortion gang!" I would not allow this commander, accomplished as he was, to take joy out of standing in the way of mine and, by extension, the Emperor''s will. These blades would, when paired with a skilled trainer, mean a great difference for any boarding actions, both offensive and defensive. He expectedly bristled at my words, I swear I could see his eyebrows become more bushy, and one of the guards wielding claymores stepped forward and reached out a hand, but it never touched me. Instead, there was a sound of crunching metal, followed by a sound like a twig snapping in the wind before the guard dropped screaming to his knees, staring in what I guessed to be horror, at Trokk. The Ogryn had sensed what the guard planned and reached out to stop him. In his simple mind, a broken arm could not be used to touch me. Every set of eyes native to the planet within earshot of the whole ordeal was locked on me and as the commander gained a grip on himself, I just had to rub salt in the wound. "The Emperor protects," I said with a smirk. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Indeed he does." he managed, but was stopped from saying anything else by the sound of someone vomiting violently. The governor was apparently not used to the idea of casual violence. Truth be told, less than 9 months ago, I was much the same way. I was lucky enough to be introduced to casual killing by ork attacks. Something not human. One of his aides rushed to his side with a container of water to wash the vomit out of his mouth with, and he drank greedily while admonishing the poor soul for not supplying him with water earlier, during our walk. "I shall have one of my men escort you to the armories and requisition carts for you to transport the weapons." The commander stated in a mix between a growl and a hiss, both to answer my question in a manner that would be satisfactory, but also to draw attention away from the governor and his childish tantrum. "Excellent, though I would request, for the governors'' sake, that we get at least one of the carts right now," I suggested and it was met with general agreement. As a cart was procured and we started making our way to the armories, I made it a point to get out in front of the cart with the now-placated governor. This was a power move, a way to tell the local population that as powerful as their lord was, my authority extended beyond him, and as such he was beholden to me. He tried several times to engage me in conversation, no doubt in the hope of having me fall back to walk beside his cart to make it look like I was his subordinate rather than his equal, but I brushed off every attempt. There was nothing to be gained from speaking with this self-indulgent excuse for a man. The armories were solid stone buildings, surrounded by soldiers and kept under heavy lock and key. A young man in a soldier''s half-plate was engaged in combat with 3 others, and from the look of things he was toying with them. "As you requested, here is the blade master the Emperor desires." The commander remarked as he looked over the exhibition taking place in front of me. But I didn''t like it. It was too convenient that he had arrived and engaged in an exhibition match mere moments before us. I pointed at 3 of my men and made a gesture with my head, which made them draw their combat knives and approach fast from behind the young man, who was busy showing off. If he was the blade master I was being told he was, he would know how to handle what was to come. As my men were 5 steps away I shouted a warning and the young man threw a look behind him, spun around, and was immediately disarmed by the first arriving soldier and taken to the ground by the next 2, the blunt side of their knives pressed against his throat. I slowly turned away from the scene to stare down at the commander, who was now sweating a great deal more than he was mere moments ago. "I don''t think you understand the position you currently find yourself in, commander. You see, when the Emperor desires something from his subjects, it is not our place to question it, or to put hindrances in the way of it, but to see the Emperor''s wish fulfilled in the fastest, most efficient manner. Should we fail due to circumstances outside of our control, that is understandable, to an extent. But when someone, anyone, actively seeks to obstruct the Emperor''s will from being carried out, that is when people start turning into corpses. Corpses cannot complain about being replaced. Have I made myself clear, or do you need the encouraging attention of my dear Trokk, to help you understand what I am trying to tell you?" I was so done with both the governor and the commander. It was obvious he was only in the position he was in because of nepotism and a greater interest in pleasing his lord, than the Imperium, and I gestured to Trokk as I spoke. The magnificent Ogryn even had the whereabouts to take a step closer to the commander at the mention of his name, and the effect was instantaneous. The color drained from the hardened veteran''s face, he took an involuntary step backward and he had to swallow hard before he could answer me. "Of course, Lord. You could not be more clear!" He managed to get over his lips before he summoned another messenger to go and get the correct soldier. "Now, many hands make light work. My blades, commander." I said, hinting that he should get the soldiers that had stopped what they were doing to gawk at their commander being threatened, to start loading up my order. Which he did with so much bravado it was hard to believe that he was bowing and scraping before me just seconds earlier. The blade master arrived a few minutes later, a middle-aged man with a pristinely combed and kept mustache, an ornate and elongated saber at his hip, almost as long as a bastard sword. He was slender, but fit and moved with the grace of a predator on the hunt. I did not doubt that this was the man I wanted. I waved him over and he presented himself as he approached. "Hector Indrack, at your service, Lord." He made a small bow as he presented the Aquila and waited for me to respond. "Greetings, Hector. Rejoice, for your skills are needed. The Emperor desires a blade master to train his soldiers and you have been picked as the most likely candidate. Hurry and pack what you might need, though only the most essential. Time is of the essence." I replied and gestured for him to step closer. "And between you and me, you might want to pack as if there was a chance you might never return," I said in a lower tone of voice, only loud enough for the 2 of us to hear. He nodded once and spun around to walk back to the armories. I called after him to meet my men at the city gate when he was done. With that done, I walked over to one of the carts being loaded with weapons and inspected one of the. A nice broad handguard, good quality steel, properly maintained and kept. While they were nothing exceptional, they were still good work and they would do the job well enough. It took close to an hour for the work to finish, but that hasn''t stopped the governor from summoning food and drink no less than 3 times while we waited. The amount of food the fat bastard was shoveling into his pasty face was nauseating and to avoid having to look at it, I inspected every single cart when it was filled. It was during this that I discovered a blade that stood out. With a broader blade, smaller handguard, heavily inlaid with gold, and an Imperial prayer written in the metal along the blade, it was a thing of beauty and I picked it up to inspect it more closely. The handle and guard were both exquisite works of art while the edge of the blade which looked smooth from a distance, turned out to have minute curves, like a flamberge. It would make for truly devastating attacks against unarmored, or lightly armored enemies. It was a thing of beauty and I decided I needed an upgrade from the combat knife I was currently using. "Wait, that blade shouldn''t be there, it was made on my request." The governor called out, completely forgetting the food he has been busy gorging himself on, and I realized that I had just picked up the newest favored toy in his collection. "Fitting, that it should hang on the hip of someone that would actually use it for its intended purpose, rather than hanging on the trophy wall of your collection room, wouldn''t you say?" I replied and took the blade into my possession. "But I am not without reason, and a gift of this magnitude deserves something of equal value in return. Would you accompany me to my base of operations when we return, so that I may repay this extravagant gesture?" I wondered if the idiot would fall for it, and he jumped straight in, feet first. Now smiling at the thought of being given something exotic and rare in exchange for a blade he could always have replicated, the suggestion appealed to the governor''s sense of entitlement and he readily agreed. Nothing more happened until we made our way back to the grove and boarded the Arvus. Once situated and moving away from the planet, the governor noticed we were not heading for the space station, but rather my ship. "What is the meaning of this?" He demanded, and I took a seat on a crate in front of him. "Governor, you disappoint me. You have raised prices on ore beyond what the Imperium finds acceptable. It is almost as if you think yourself untouchable like your mudball of a world is important in the grand scheme of things. You have angered forces that are beyond your comprehension, and now it''s time to pay for those transgressions. I promised you a gift of equal value to the blade you have bestowed upon me, Well, governor. My gift is allowing you to live to be handed over to the Inquisition. Otherwise, I can put a shot in your head right now, and get it over with. And before you ask, this cannot be undone. The verdict has been passed, the judgment delivered, and no power in the galaxy can change this. I advise you to meet your fate with some dignity. It is all you have left at this point." I should take joy in bursting his bubble. I should be malicious and gleeful, but all I felt was weary resignation. The fact that people like this were allowed to flourish in the first place overshadowed the joy of being the one to remove him from power. I had expected rage, crying, begging, and attempts at negotiating. Anything, but what he did. Instead of any of the expected reactions, he raised his hand and if not for my danger sense, I would have been dead right there. Instead, the las shot from the digital weapon hidden in one of his rings seared through my ear and took out the man behind me. He only managed one shot, as Trokk responded by reaching out and ripping the arm off of the man. The field chiurgeon sprang forward to attend to my wounded ear, but I brushed him off. "Save that fat bastard. He doesn''t deserve to bleed out and escape the interrogation chambers. Innocentia probat nihil!" As I uttered the motto of the Inquisition, silence fell over the Arvus, except for the whimpering of the, literally, disarmed former governor. Trokk was still holding the arm and I reached out and started plucking the jewelry from the fingers. A digital weapon was a rarity, even among the obscenely wealthy and powerful, and any other human would most likely have been taken out by that little stunt, and even with all my advantages, I almost got taken out. This would be a wonderful addition to my personal armory and a great last resort when people thought you were disarmed. I just had to figure out which one of the gaudy rings it was, but my enginseer could help me with this. But I was faced with a choice. Did I inform the people on the governor''s space station before, or after, I had returned him to Naval base Bakka?? Chapter 27: Unwanted responsibility and 4 times the trouble. My ear hurt like hell, but there was no immediate danger in the wound. it had been cauterized by the las shot so bleeding was not an issue, it just hurt like hell. The governor had been under the care of the chiurgeon and was now sitting on the ground with several troopers standing close by to watch over him. Not that it was needed, he seemed to have withdrawn into himself after his failed attempt at killing me. Nothing we did elicited a response in any way, and with a missing arm he was no threat, but I had a feeling it was not the wound that caused his apathy, but rather the thought of what he would be subjected to by the Imperium before he would most graciously be allowed to die. If he was even granted that mercy, and if I remembered Imperial law correctly, the punishment for treason, as his actions rightfully were, was death through decapitation or firing squad, or enforced conscription into a penal platoon. Somehow, I think the enforced conscription would be his fate, someone in power would most certainly get a giggle out of seeing a former governor placed in the penal legions. We got him back to the ship and locked him away in the brig, but before we started on the short trip back to Bakka, I had a message sent to the space station. Their Lord had been summoned to Bakka station and would be back at his earliest convenience. No reason to cause a panic. Panic among the rank-and-file soldiers of the Imperium usually leads to a split in the troops, followed by infighting and finally either full-blown heretical worship or extreme, fanatical, Imperial worship, among the survivors. This simple act of informing them of what was happening would be enough to keep them under control until someone could replace the governor. As was expected, the trip back was uneventful, the travel lanes of the Imperium enjoyed a relatively high level of security anywhere except the fringes of its territory. We made it back to Bakka without issue, and during the back-and-forth communication, I informed them that I had the former governor of Slud in custody. That caused the call to be redirected to the Astartes contingent on the station and Captain Acheran was waiting for me when we dragged the prisoner from the ship. "I see you had a successful journey. The Emperor''s justice awaits him in the near future." he rumbled, even sounding rather pleased with the whole thing. His eyes followed the whimpering tub of lard as he waddled after the Arbites that had come to secure him. "Unfortunately, a new governor has not been found. It has been decided that the planet will be placed under your charge until a replacement can be found." "Wait, no, I can''t take on that responsibility, I have duties to attend to as a rogue trader. I cannot spend my time playing governor! You can''t do this!" I protested, the prospect of spending my time playing Lord to a planet of medieval peasants was not an appealing one. "It is already done! We must all do our duty to the Emperor and this is what is being asked of you. Be mindful, rogue trader, that this is merely a stewardship, until a governor is chosen, but the tithe shall be paid as expected." Acheran cut through my protests and made it clear in no uncertain terms that this was not negotiable. It pissed me off greatly, being ladened with this responsibility. It was not something I wanted, despite the potential wealth that could be gained. How would I find a way home if I spend my time lounging about in a space station hanging above a shithole of a planet? But if they wanted me to stir the pot, I would stir it to such a degree that the Deparmento Munitorum would have an aneurysm with the changes I was going to enact on the planet of Slud. A planet was governed as its ruler saw fit, even a temporary ruler. And while the old ruler might have had an aversion to technology to keep the people subservient, I wanted more. If I was to be burdened with the responsibility of ruling these people, I could at least do the one thing no one else would. Find a way to improve the lives of the people under me, like I did with the indentured workers on my ship. Speaking of, they were doing well in their training, the reports from their senior armsmen glowing with praise of about the willingness to serve and sincere faith of these former glorified slaves. There had also been reports of less mutinous behavior among the lowest ranks on the ship, fewer morale problems among the general crew, and an increased sense of duty among the voidsmen in general. Perhaps, the way to get out of this assignment was to start rocking the metaphorical boat. Alternatively, get someone to do the practical work for me while I continued my work as a rogue trader. Now there was an idea, some loyal fanatic that could run the place like their governor had not been replaced until his actual replacement could arrive. I knew I was doing the very same thing, that Acheran was doing to do, but so what, I had better uses for my time than sitting in orbit over a mining planet with so antiquated technology that an outhouse in the yard was considered modern technology. Without Elris on board to function as my de facto information broker, I would need to set up my retinue of people. And I just happened to have been given a planet to scour of people. Shit. I was going to assume the temporary position, at least for a short while until a suitable puppet could be installed in power. "As the Emperor demands," I said and Acheran acknowledged my acceptance with a nod before he turned and left me to my own devices. With this new task at hand, I made my way to the Administratum, closely followed by Trokk, the giant abhuman sticking to the order I gave him earlier. Once we arrived, I made my way into the building and found the first clerk I was able to locate. It took a few words but once he understood who I was and what I wanted, I was escorted to a Prefectus who immediately started the process of digging out all available information on the people stationed in orbit above Slud. I wanted to know the number of men, their designated titles, and everything else the Imperium knew about them. The former governor was bound to have had several specialists enlisted and I wanted them all. Sure, there might be a little initial grumbling, but a small talk about the actions of their former boss, and the fate that he is suffering, as well the fact that anyone who still supports him will be taken in as an accomplice, should clear the air of any feelings of resentment they might hold toward me. Once again, it struck me how casual an approach I had taken to using and exploiting people, thinking of them not as living beings, but more like tools to further the one goal I had set for myself. Was it something about this universe that either forced that mentality or saw you perish? Or did I always have the capacity and potential for sociopathic behavior, and I just suppressed it on account of living in the society I did? It was a thought that was both scary and intriguing. At what point did morals and ethics start to supersede survival and thriving? To what extent was it morally acceptable to push those boundaries, without losing yourself and your humanity in the process? How far did you have to go before you started becoming a threat to the very humanity you were fighting to preserve? These were thoughts worth pondering, but I had a lot of things to do and little time to do it. With the requested information being taken to my ship, I made my way to the Departmento Munitorum. I had a special request that I wanted to take care of, one that would see Trokk busy for the majority of his waking hours, and make him damn near indestructible in battle. We arrived at the Office of the Imperial Pursary. However, every single bureaucrat I tried to make contact with ignored me and went about their business, making it clear they had no intention of dealing with me right now. Well, we would just have to see about that, now wouldn''t we? I physically grabbed the highest-ranking bureaucrat I could find and he immediately called for the Arbites to have me removed. It took them less than 10 seconds to arrive and 2 Arbitrators rounded the corner, wielding shock mauls and suppression shields, their jaws the only thing exposed by their matte black carapace armor. "In the name of the Emperor, you will release the official and follow us to be punished in accordance with the Book of Judgement!" They ordered and the energy fields of their mauls sprang to life as they bore down on me. Trokk didn''t move, torn between his understanding that the arbitrators worked for the Emperor, and the order to protect me, who also worked for the Emperor. "Arbitrator, I have a very interesting document you might want to review before you tell me what to do and who to release!" I said sternly without letting the bureaucrat dangling in my arms, a good foot off the ground. "A document? Explain yourself immediately!" They ordered, but they didn''t advance any further. "If you wish, I will let you inspect my Letter of Marque, and then you can decide whether you want to pursue your previous action." I snarled and out of the corner of my eye I noticed the color drain from the unfortunate man I was holding off the ground. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "You are the rogue trader that has docked at the station?" One of them asked as he slowly lowered his maul and relaxed his shield arm. His comrade still kept his battle stance, but I couldn''t blame him. "How many people do you see wandering the station with an Ogryn?" I countered and his eyes wandered from me to Trokk and I would swear, I could hear the wheels in his head turning. Did he dare risk offending me, or did he dare risk letting a potential criminal go? In the end, the natural desire for self-preservation won, and they turned on their heels and left after offering me an apology. The clerk, still hanging from my arms, looked crestfallen, but I suspected that was more because he learned who I was than the fact that he was not in control of the situation. "Do you have time to listen to an agent of the Emperor? Or should I find your replacement and request their help?" I asked the now-shaking bureaucrat, and he quickly spouted into a lengthy apology mixed with promises of expedient handling of whatever request I had. "You can start by leading me to the Officio Tactica. I wish to requisition specialist troops and war gear." I stated and looked at him expectantly. He tried stalling, citing rule after rule, and regulation after regulation and it started to bore me, so I cut through his rant, "Your objections have been noted. Now, take me to the Officio Tactica!" And with no more ways to delay me, the now defeated-looking man in front of me turned to lead me on my way. Despite my ham-fisted approach to getting what I wanted, I got my wishes fulfilled. I acquired a full set of bullgryn armor for Trokk and even managed to get my hands on 3 more Ogryns. They would not be part of my retinue but would become the sledgehammer among the forces at my disposal. Sure, 3 Ogryns didn''t sound like much, but when commanded by a Bone''Ead, namely Trokk, they would be an unstoppable force moving around the battlefield. Faced with regular humans, they would be neigh impervious to anything that could be thrown at them. Against something more dangerous, like traitor Astartes, they would still stand a chance, even in melee. Stories about Ogryns beating traitor Astartes to death with nothing but their fists, or maybe the discarded helmet of said Astartes. When the Ogryns were brought forth, they immediately huddled around Trokk which I must admit surprised me. They were strangers to each other, and yet they sought his company and leadership almost by instinct. They all started speaking with one another and it quickly became apparent that they would follow Trokk without hesitation. I would have to look into that at a later time, perhaps there was an untapped potential to be discovered and used. With this done, I could return to my ship and depart for Slud. I would have a little time to go over everything I had received from the Administratum before I arrived back in orbit around the planet. It seemed the governor had only kept 1500 soldiers occupied on a station that could comfortably accommodate at least 10 times that number of troops. This was worrisome. Not because it was common to fill your station, but because the planet was situated fairly close to unexplored regions, by Imperial standards, so to only keep a skeleton crew gave food for thought. Over the next day, I dug deeper and found several discrepancies with the estimated earning when compared to the treasury status. When you added the demanded increase in payment for the ore the planet delivered, I started suspecting that the governor was paying off someone to leave the planet in peace. Well, we would just have to see about that. I sent a message to Farsyn, asking that a request be sent to Bakka, asking for naval reinforcements for no more than 3 months, on account of a suspected attack by renegades. I attached my findings alongside my speculations as the reason for my request and now I could only wait for a response. I hoped it would be positive and quick. Then all that was left was to prepare to enter the small station orbiting Slud, and after a few hours of work, I had what I felt was a solid enough plan that it would go off without a hitch. I would bring 2000 of my guardsmen with me, leaving the last 1000 as well as the designated voidsmen to guard the ship. We would make our way to the private chambers of the former governor, which I would take into my possession as soon as possible. Once that was done, we had to assume control of the bridge of the station. Some might wonder why I didn''t go for the bridge first, but planetary governors were unreasonably paranoid when it came to their safety and I had a hunch that there were quite a few surprises that could be countered, simply by going to the private quarters of the former governor, first thing. We would have to see if my instinct held up or if we wasted time and gave away our intent before we could reach a point where we would be in control before the stationed troops knew they were under attack, so to speak. Happy with the state of things, I left my quarters and decided to check in on Trokk and his new charges. I found them doing supervised training by a frustrated sergeant, and I made a mental note to also secure someone with greater patience to train the Ogryns. I feared this one would rather blow his brains out shortly, rather than be stuck with this duty. "Trokk," I called out, and the group of Ogryns turned their heads collectively to stare at me. I waved him over and he came trotting without hesitation. "Tell me, Trokk, how are the new Ogryns doing? "They are okay. Not very smart, but they want to make the Emperor happy. So they are okay." He stated with all the simplicity and insight one could expect of an Ogryn, but then he surprised me by adding, "They need more training." I looked at him in surprise, a tactical suggestion from an Ogryn? Practically unheard of. "What makes you say that?" I Inquired, my interest piqued by his suggestion. "They are new Ogryns, they didn''t have a lot of time to get proper Ogryn training. Yes, more training." He reasoned, and without any further interaction, he lumbered back to the Ogryns who had busied themselves with using their ripper guns to bash at each other in what appeared to be a heated argument, which was over as quickly as it started as Trokk come close, his size dwarfing the other Ogryns and his neural enhancements making him a great deal smarter than the 3 of them collectively. The fact that he had not only carried a conversation, albeit a short one, and even made a reasonable tactical suggestion, again, even if it was still a minor one, was more than enough proof that there was more than just a handful of screws rattling around that skull of his. I would need to keep a very close eye on him. My gut told me there was a lot more to this giant than his strength and size. With the Ogryns now subdued by the presence of their bone''head, they could resume their training, and I watched the new Ogryns struggle to remember the difference between empty and full clips for their ripper guns. full ones heavy, empty ones light. This was not the time to present the new armor to Trokk, he had his mind elsewhere, and if I gave it to him now, the rest of the day would go without training. That wouldn''t do, I needed discipline in my new Ogryns. They would be strictly kept where they trained and lived, as far as possible, so Trokk was the only Ogryn to have freedom of movement on the ship, but he usually stuck near to me whenever he was not doing Ogryn things. I decided to go make sure everyone understood what was going to happen once we reached the space station above Slud. That was another thing that made me different from the regular commanders of this universe. I informed my troops what was going to happen, to the extent it was possible without putting us at risk. I always believed that people were much more willing to do their job if they understood why they were doing it. At least, that''s how it worked back home, and I saw no reason for it to not work here as well. No matter what, it made me more transparent as a leader, which was always a reassuring trait in people in positions of power. We soon found ourselves nearing the station once more, and contrary to last time, we were immediately hailed upon entering communications range. As soon as they learned we were the same ship that had taken their governor to the planet, and later led them away, they assumed we were back with their leader and immediately gathered most of their troops in the hangar we were designated to land in, to throw a parade for their returning lord. This made things easy for me but required a massive and hurried undertaking to change the orders I had so carefully planned out. I decided to take 2500 soldiers with me, to subdue the bulk of the defensive forces with one stroke, granting us enough troop superiority that I could demand the surrender of those that remained opposed to us. I wanted to take as many of them alive as possible since their only sin was serving their lord dutifully, but I was prepared to use deadly force to take the station. The amount of damage they could cause to the planet below, to the trade ships that passed through, and to the tithe collectors, if they remained in control of the station, was simply too great to ignore. They had to surrender or die. But there were other ways of going about this, and I still had time to make a change in plans. I could initiate an attack immediately, causing a massive firefight on the station, but culling the garrison in the process. Or I could stick to the plan I had made now, of letting my troops mingle with theirs for the supposed parade before we struck. Or I could simply fly my ship in position near the plasma reactor, inside the void shield of the station, train my weapons on it, and demand immediate surrender under threat of blowing up the station. Of course, if they called my bluff, there was a very good chance I was going to be blown out of the void by the orbital weapons platforms that circled the station. Chapter 28: What price is too high? No, the best option was the one already planned. Infiltrate, strike from within, and take control as quickly as possible. There was no need to make further changes. As one would expect from a friendly ship, we approached the station slowly, taking our time getting to the hangar. When we landed, the stationed troops had indeed gathered ¨¨n masse and lined up in parade formation to the best of their abilities. They looked immensely pleased with themselves, even their officers were sporting small smiles, and it managed to relax and worry me. That was the advantage of being the captain, I had access to everything my ship was capable of, including direct access to the outside cameras, allowing me to observe the situation before we disembarked. The smiles on their officer''s faces calmed me because Imperial officers, no matter how relaxed their attitude toward discipline, only smiled when everything was going exactly how they wanted. On the other hand, I was deeply concerned because the officers were smiling. Or rather, these Imperial officers, if the soldiers'' lack of discipline and general crass attitude from my last visit was anything to go by. Why were they so happy? They couldn''t have let their standards fall that low, not within the Imperium. My danger sense was completely silent, but I had a bad feeling in my stomach. "Trokk, go and get the other Ogryns. Take them to the armory and get your weapons." I ordered. "Yes, Captain." He answered and hurried away to do my bidding. Something was wrong here, very wrong, and I needed to watch out. I almost lost my life once already, being involved with the space station above Slud. There was no sense in inviting another attempt. Those that looked for trouble usually found it and luck favored the well-prepared. I ordered the soldiers that would join the parade to equip their shotcannons instead of their regular lasguns, the proximity to the stations'' garrison in the parade would ensure maximum effectiveness. Thinking about it, it would be a slaughterhouse, a true image of carnage. At point-blank range, the shotcannons would turn their enemies into a red mist with limbs flying everywhere. It would be like detonating a stick of dynamite inside the chest cavity of a human. If the death of their comrades didn''t deter them, then the gruesome display certainly would, and being showered in the mist of your former comrade tended to do strange things to the morale of guardsmen. I kept studying the gathered garrison for a few minutes, flicking back and forth between the cameras in the hopes of finding something, anything, that could tip me off to what was going on. But nothing caught my eye, except for the unusual cheery attitude among the officers. This was the Imperium, officers of the Astra Militarum were never happy. Their job was to find flaws and smooth them out and as a result, they were ornery and irritated at the very best of times. At the worst of times, well, that''s when the firing squads were given a red carpet into the barracks. But I saw nothing. They were all decked out in standard parade uniform, not a single thing out of place, except for the.. extra... ammo pouches. "I fucking knew it!" I spat and the first officer standing nearby cocked an eyebrow. "Captain?" The young man inquired. He was a steady first officer. Competent, ruthless, efficient, and calm. "Do you see anything wrong with these formations?" I asked and took a step to the side, granting him a full view of the screen. He studied it carefully, flicking through the screens at a rapid pace, but he shook his head. "Nothing, Captain. All I see is a parade that would befit a new governor." He deadpanned, and I got the distinct feeling he was mocking me with my new responsibilities, but be that as it may, I wanted him to know better in the future. "Why would they don extra ammo pouches for a parade?" I grumbled, and the young man stiffened slightly. I saw his eyes stare into eternity for a moment before he turned to me, "The only reason to bring extra pouches of ammo is if you expect a prolonged firefight. They must expect us to only have a small number of soldiers leave, and prepared to take the ship by force." he reasoned and earned my forgiveness for his earlier jest at my expense. "Correct you are, and I trust you will remember to put details such as that, into their proper context in the future. It is what will keep you alive more than anything." I admonished my first Officer, but he took it in stride and bowed his head in acceptance of this piece of questionable wisdom. "Well then, let''s not keep them waiting. Let us show them how real Imperial soldiers look." I Declared, and the orders began ringing out through my ship. A short trip brought me to a platform where I could observe the disembarking troops before I left with Trokk and his Ogryn squad. He had been given the new Bullgryn armor and struck a truly intimidating figure, the discarded tank tracks used to make the armor made the already freakishly large abhuman even bigger, and the solid metal covering his body could withstand withering amounts of fire before it gave in. I would have to get him a slab shield eventually, and a proper powermaul, but for now, the ripper gun and combat knife the size of a small regular human torso would have to do. I watched as my troops started leaving the ship in combat groups of 100 men, totaling 25 groups needing to leave, and for every group past the second one, I saw the face of the station''s first Officer grow darker and more worried. While I had taken the carapace armors back from the group that had escorted me to the surface of the planet, the shotcannons in their hands inspired fear in the men on the station. In this limited space, my troops would dominate any firefight by sending walls of buckshot down any corridor they advanced through, and in the point-blank conditions of this parade, they had no chance of losing, not even if the garrison troops had quicker instincts. Their lasguns had long barrels and took a while to swing about, compared to my men''s weapons. Slowly, they disembarked and spread out evenly among the garrison, eventually being deployed all around the edge of the formations. When I left the ship with 4 Ogryns in tow I could almost hear everyone''s sphincter collective tighten at the sight of them. I was once again wearing the carapace armor given to me, donning the mark of the Inquisition and the effect was immediate. The air that had been filled with expectant happiness suddenly felt like cold winds were howling through the ranks of the garrison as everyone present did their best to not look like a force that had been gathered to invade my ship. As much as I disliked wearing the Inquisitions symbols, I had to admit I was loving the effect they brought with them. The sheer fear and awe with which people treated you was intoxicating. All the more reason to hate it, such power could very easily lead me to forget what I wanted. And I wanted home! The first Officer of the station came up to me, presented the Aquila, and stared down the barrel of my stub cannon a moment later. Immediately, the sound of 2500 shotcannons being hoisted into firing position filled the large hangar. "Your previous governor has been relieved of duty because of his greed and incompetence. I have been placed in command of the station and the planet below until a fitting governor can be found and travel here. Please, enlighten me if you have any issues with this, and I shall bless you with the Emperor''s mercy." I growled and I met no resistance. The gathered that had not arrived with me all swore a temporary oath of allegiance to me, in the Emperor''s name, before I was satisfied to move on to the rest of the station. With the first Officer under my control, it was a small issue to order the station garrison to gather up, disarm themselves and allow my troops to take their places until I could have their loyalties verified. Until then, they were free to move around where they used to, even to work their previous occupation, just unarmed at all times. I was slightly worried that the former governor''s troops might cause trouble for me while we waited for a new governor to arrive, but nothing ever happened. At least not with them. However, it only took 3 days for my men to cause trouble for me. I was almost done taking inventory over everything, 3 days of nothing but reading and compiling lists of goods, services, communities on the planet below, expected resource gain, expected selling price to keep the wheels of economy turning, funds freed up by removal of a corrupt official, projected injuries among the feudal population as a result of hard labor, sustainable loss of life among the population, amount of guards needed to keep a minimum of peace, expenses to cover costs from everything to maintaining guards equipment to hauling the ore so preciously mined and thousands of other minor details. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. My head felt like it was about to burst from the reading, the weight of it making it feel like I was about to keel over. I had just put down yet another book of numbers when the door sprang open and a sergeant guardsman came skidding into the room. "I beg your forgiveness, Lord, but there is a riot growing out of control down near the mess halls." She managed between gasps for air, and I needed nothing more to draw me away from this tedious, soul-crushing work. No time to put on my armor, but Trokk was posted nearby along with a squad of my more disciplined guardsmen, functioning as my escort whenever I had to go anywhere. As little a threat as unarmed soldiers posed, enough of them would have no trouble kicking my skull into the floor if they got me to themselves for just a minute. Not that I didn''t trust my guardsmen, but I wasn''t so sure about these station troops. Ahead of our group, the sergeant lead us through the station and we soon heard the sounds of a riot. Things breaking, people fighting, random cursing and yelling, and all-around chaos. The scene we saw when we finally arrived, already seemed to have grown out of hand. Hundreds of soldiers, a mix of the station garrison and my guardsmen, were engaged in a full-on melee. I took in the situation in an instant and knew it would be almost impossible to stop this right, short of sending in more troops. Glancing around the large mess hall we were in, I noticed some wiring hanging down from the ceiling, most likely maintenance being interrupted by the riot, and I had an idea. A horrible idea, but an idea nonetheless. looking back over the fighting soldiers, I saw one of my guardsmen pulling out his combat knife and killing 2 from the garrison, and I pointed him out to Trokk. "Bring him to me, Trokk!" I ordered and the giant abhuman wasted no time, crossed into the melee that parted around him like a shark swimming through a school of fish, grabbed the unfortunate man around the head, and started dragging him back to me. His vision was blocked by having his head encased in the hand of an Ogryn, and the guardsman was flailing around with his knife, trying desperately to free himself to no avail. When Trokk brought him back, I grabbed some of the loose wiring hanging over a solid beam of the ship structure and wrapped one end of it around the neck of the dazed guardsman before handing Trokk the other and giving the order. "Pull!" And Trokk did just that. The sight of a man being hung to death had a magical way of capturing the attention of people, and the riot started dying out as the fighting men and women slowly stopped what they were doing to silently observe the diminishing struggles of the guardsman I had doomed to death. His thrashing became weaker as life got choked out of him, and I for a moment, wondered what this would do to me and my morals. This was the first killing I had done that was not done in self-defense, not done on the orders of anyone else, or in service to the Imperium. This was a death that could solely be placed on me as the responsible party. I had technically committed murder and didn''t know how to feel about it. Was achieving the goal of stopping the riot worth the price of human life? Could you even put a price on human life? And if you could, why were we doing what we did? When you turn human life into yet another quantifiable resource, have you advanced?? Or have you regressed to a point where what you are fighting for is forgotten, replaced by the simple need and desire to keep fighting? I shook myself out of these depressing thoughts, but as the dangling man went limp, I got a faint red flash in the corner of my vision. Almost like when I arrived and some entity initiated contact, but deeper red, more insistent. It would have to wait, I was being stared down by several hundred people, fear and anger in their eyes. "Just what the hell is the meaning of this? How dare you all show this lack of discipline? Someone explain to me exactly what happened here, or I swear by the Imperial Throne, you will all hang!" I yelled as loud as I could as I scanned the face of everyone assembled, looking for any clue as to it being more than a random riot. A garrison soldier stepped forward and the rank on his pauldron identified him as a Lieutenant Commander. "I cannot stand by and watch men under my command be menaced by foreign troops, even if we all serve the same Emperor!" His voice was strong and his words carefully chosen, and I had to admit that they were in the right to riot if they were truly being menaced by my troops. "Our Lord may have been corrupt, but we were just doing our duty in the Emperor''s name, as is expected of us. Why should we be punished for being dutiful?" Before I could answer, I had a flash of a vision. I saw the situation from the outside. The garrison soldiers, justified and righteous in their anger, mixed with the guardsmen from my ship. Myself, standing under the hung, still warm corpse of one of my men with my first officer and Ogryns standing behind me. It made me realize that my next course of action would determine my reputation in the future, despite anything else I might do. Too many people with too much invested in the situation were watching, and the wrong course of action could doom me when it came to interacting with other people in power. Returning to the moment, I could only choose one action, If I wanted to have a somewhat decent reputation as a rogue Trader. "If it is as you claim, we will find out soon enough. Everyone here is confined to quarters while an investigation is carried out, one that I will personally lead. Orders were given that this station''s crew and garrison were to operate as normal, albeit without your weapons until your loyalty could be confirmed. I now see that my orders have not been carried out properly, or else this situation should not have happened to begin with. But, Lieutenant Commander, mark my words well. If you are lying to me, then 10 years in a slave gang, or even forced conscription into a penal legion will be too good for you. You, and your men, are looking at life in a slave gang in the mines on the planet below if I discover you are lying to me!" As I delivered the final part of my decision, I watched the officer in front of me grow paler, but his eyes were as determined as ever. He wasn''t lying, I could tell. But putting the fear of the Emperor in him would do me good in the days to come with unraveling this massive clusterfuck of an interruption. On the plus side, it gave me an excuse to assign my first officer to my more needed, and much more boring, official duty of getting a proper grip on everything going on with the station, the planet below, and the unholy amount of information that needed to be sorted, filed and compiled. My first officer oversaw the locking away of anyone that had been involved with the riot while I had to take on the questionably enjoyable task of dealing with the enginseer. Walking through the cramped corridors of the ship, I noticed the gazes of the crew members that thought themselves safe from my perceptive observation. It was no longer uncertain fear I saw in their eyes, more of measured respect, and I was certain that my choice to lead an investigation myself had turned things in my favor. This would keep any petty rivalries and nepotism out of the equation when it came to finding the guilty party. Making my way toward the generators of the ship, I noticed a lot more servitors and a lot less proper crew, the menial and mind-breaking work of the semi-sentient worker drones that once were human, left to the lobotomized remains of the punished wicked. It was difficult to not feel creeped out by them, shells of their former selves fused with robotic technology to get around the ban on Artificial Intelligence. Knowing that this was a possible punishment simply for failing the Imperium or insulting the Mechanicus in a situation where they had the advantage, didn''t improve the impression left by the semi-sentient automatons. I shook off the dark thought and continued toward the reactor area of my ship. It was still a bit of a way away, and I thought of the red flash I had experienced when the guardsman died from being hung. I had to know. Innocence lost. Was it circumstance, purpose, fate, or personal choice? Adapting to the grim dark universe is a hard thing for those born into it. Those that come from the outside rarely reach this point of acceptance. The taking of life, no matter how casual or serious, is a definitive act, the ultimate show of determination. Why did you do what you did? Perhaps no one will ever know, not even yourself. You are a killer. taker of lives. +3 Will. Once again, what''s with the snarky attitude of this system? It is bordering on an almost accusatory tone at this point like the system is actively disapproving of my choices. Well, live long and suck it, System, I shall not be passive-aggressively goaded on to a chosen path! Though I always welcomed a stat increase. for now, I had to deal with the Mechanicus in earnest, which meant minding my words at practices that might be seen as barbaric and inhuman by the Imperium at large, but the Mechanicus saw as the natural way of things. The flesh was weak, and they strived to achieve perfection through the replacement of biological components, with mechanical. Perhaps the buff in Will was just what I needed to get me through this conversation. I just knew that the Enginseer would demand a boon in return for diverting precious attention and resources away from the ship in general. Well, time to play the diplomat with my own crew. Chapter 29: Rodent issues. It ended up taking quite a while and I got turned around more than once, but I finally managed to find my way to the engine section of the station and started my search for the Omnissianic Congregator. Not that he was hard to find, I simply followed the slow shuffle of tech-priests that were wandering the oil-stained and damp corridors near the engines, applying new oil to the various parts they passed on their way while they chanted incessantly in high gothic. Some carried ancient tomes containing their prayers, others carried human skulls, swinging from long chains and emitting copious amounts of incense smoke. All of them were modified in one way or another. Some had replaced their eyes with cybernetics, others opted for arms or legs, a few of them had their entire torso exchanged for mechanical devices, the skin near the areas of fusion showing up as highly inflamed and infected if the bright red color and the small oozings of pus was anything to go by. I skulked through the station, surrounded by servitors, servo skulls, tech-priests, and slave gang workers, I even passed a single cherub, the bio-sculpted homunculi with the appearance of horribly looking, child servitors. The ability to fly with the implanted cybernetic wings and an anti-gravitic generator didn''t improve the horrible image. It all suddenly became too much and I felt violently ill as the horrors surrounding me finally overwhelmed me. Turning to the side, I unloaded the contents of my stomach unto the floor where it seeped into the grille I was walking on to disappear into the bowels of the station, forever. I was shaking like a leaf in the wind, I felt drained of all my energy and it was all I could do but sit on the floor for a while, pressing my head against the cool and grimy metal. It was nice here. Cool, dark, almost peaceful. I could sit here forever, forgotten in the dark. And yet, I couldn''t. I had to pick myself up, keep moving forward. I was good at ignoring my situation and embracing the moment, but I was eventually overwhelmed. I had no idea how long I lay there, but the chanting had moved so far away that I could barely hear it when I eventually got on my feet. I found a smooth surface shiny enough to function as a makeshift mirror and was horrified by the sight that greeted me. Pale as a ghost with sunken cheeks and dark rings around the eyes, I could barely recognize the body I was inhabiting. I looked haunted. Was it taking so much of a mental toll on me, being here and having been given the responsibility I had? Or was it mostly caused by the past few days of little sleep and too much reading? I would have to take better care of myself if I didn''t want to have a stress-related heart attack. I shook my head and got moving again, determined to not let these dark thoughts dominate my mind, but I found it hard to distance myself from them. Surrounded as I was by evidence of the very things that I wanted to avoid, dark thoughts and terrible moods kept trying to exert their power over me, but I wouldn''t let it happen. There was too much at stake, and I wasn''t thinking about the Imperium or the station, but of myself. Weakness would be taken advantage of by anyone that saw it, and the only reason I had been spared ridicule and/or attempts at my life or undermining my authority was that I was in the station''s mechanicus area. The engines, the various machine parts, the small local manufactorums on the station, even the menial workshops and the mighty generators, all of these were the shrines of the mechanicus and they guarded them zealously. Being caught doing anything not supervised by a tech-priest and blessed by the omnissiah would guarantee you being turned into something less than human for your transgression. However, I was their captain, their rogue trader, and I had the might of the Inquisition at my back. They couldn''t touch me even if they wanted to. I gathered myself and resumed my walk toward the chanting, the mechanical voice of the Congregator sticking out like a sore thumb, leading their prayers as it was. I soon found who I was looking for, the Omnissianic Congregator, standing in front of a large conduit that transported the power across the station, surrounded by lesser tech-priests chanting, applying holy oil, tightening bolts, and adding new paint to the flaking layer covering the conduit. The Congregator himself was chanting out loud from a tome in his hands while the servo arm attached to his spine was slowly attaching prayer parchments to places of apparent significance. I knew better than to interrupt their work and thus made myself comfortable in a corner where I wouldn''t be in the way. I knew the Congregator had noticed my presence long before I entered his but their prayers and rituals would suffer no delay or interruption, such was the importance of their work. Yes, I considered it to be bogus, nothing a regular engineer could not accomplish, but unfortunately, the cult of Mars had a monopoly on the manufacturing and invention of technology, and they would be more than happy to disintegrate anyone that threatened said monopoly. And in a way, they made the imagined belief of the omnissiah become reality through belief. They literally willed their godlike entity into existence. This was the way of things in this universe. If enough faith was poured into something by enough beings, then it would manifest. The realm of souls, or the warp as it was commonly known, ensured this was the case. It made me miss my home, where faith was superstition and gods were nothing more than a figment of our collective imagination. When they finished their incantations and prayers, the Congregator and his tech priests swiftly gathered up their tools and got ready to move on to the next job. "Honored Omnissianic Congregator. A word, if you please." I called out, and the group turned as one. "Captain." The voicebox that had been installed to replace his vocal cords made the voice of the Congregator sound like a horrible parody of an 80''s movie robot, but the words were clear enough. "The blessed engine requires our attention." "I understand, but this cannot wait. I require tech-priests to perform a sweep of the security measures around the mess area where we had a riot. I need to know exactly what happened, in detail. I understand this would take them away from their duties, but I have neither the time nor the patience, to put this on hold." I demanded. My words were carefully chosen, a perceived insult at this moment could very well mean that I would not get what I wanted for several weeks, and it dawned on me just how much I loathed the inefficiency of the Imperium. Human nature at its finest, is self-serving and greedy no matter the situation. Not that the Ruinous powers of Chaos were any better, raving madmen that only cared for the death and suffering of every living being, in the pursuit of a slave''s powers. Sure, they were powerful beyond measure but they were forever bound beneath their chosen chaos god, doomed to an eternity of servitude. Even death would not see them free, as their souls had been sold to their gods. "This will be a difficult task. A large part of the station remains unblessed, its systems laying dormant and unused. Power is there, but the machine sleeps. We must awaken the great machine, in the name of the Omnissiah. We calculate at least 2 weeks before we can approach this task." The answer came swiftly and it was nothing I had not expected. Of course, they pushed back, they had their own agenda. I had seen them scurrying around, trying to gain access to the quarters I now inhabited, the many exotic and uncatalogued items stored in there drawing them in like flies to grox shit. "What if I send a team down to the planet to secure a group of indentured servants to take over some of the more menial tasks, freeing up your tech-priests valuable time in exchange?" I had thought about it, and the easiest way to placate these technophiles would be to increase the number of hands they had at their disposal. But I would be damned if I gave them access to properly educated people, the shift in political power could very well see me relegated to a crown figure role, a puppet that was controlled by the Congregator. I needed to properly cement my power as well as my authority. "As for the jewelry I handed over to you, have you identified the digital weapon used in the assassination attempt on me?" Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The one human eye still left in the Congregator''s face flashed a moment of irritation and regret, annoyed at me for remembering the digital weapon. Had he been able to squirrel it away, it would have secured him a rise in rank the next time he was able to contact Mars. "We were. I shall have it delivered to you quartes. Indentured servants would indeed increase the speed at which we can sanctify the station We calculate 3 days before the security sweep can be completed." Even through the robotic voice filter, there was an undertone that told me I shouldn''t press the matter further. No matter, I got what I wanted and now I just had to sanction a press gang raid on the planet below. Somehow I don''t think that is going to do anything other than improve the mood of my men, growing restless as they were. I said my goodbyes and started the trip back toward the bridge with the Congregators'' single eye burning a hole in the back of my head. I didn''t like the feeling I was getting from that one, it was more hostile than the Enginseer Prime and that warranted a response. Giving it some thought while I backtracked through the station, I got the idea to issue the press gang to target penal colonies on the planet, solving several problems with crime, granting more hands to the mechanicus, and having them go through the arduous process of turning hardened criminals into cowed servants, on account of the less than successful interaction I just had. I also needed to figure out what to do with the planet below. Sure, I could lounge around in my temporary ivory tower of a space station, but that wasn''t me. Lounging around would only lead me down the same path that the former governor had taken, and considering how it ended for that sack of potatoes, it was not a path I was eager to follow him down. And I did vow to myself to annoy the Imperium for locking me down here. I wanted to explore, to see the new things in the galaxy. To find a way back home! Maybe it was time to deliver on that personal promise. With a new energy and a much more positive disposition, I set a course for the treasury, looking to have a serious word with the Purser from my vessel. I had neglected this for too long as it was, and now was as good a time as any to make him understand that I had my own plans for how we were going to run things in the future. It was a long walk, getting to the administrative offices on the station, the layout was less than optimal for efficiency, but perfect for a nepotistic governor that wanted to play favorites with the varying factions within the Imperium. There were going to be grumbling and complaints when I ordered them to rearrange their various offices, but once the efficiency skyrocketed, they would sing my praises in the shadows. They wouldn''t dare say anything that could inflate my ego. I practically kicked the door open, the sour and annoyed face on the wrinkled old woman that served as my economic advisor and personal banker quickly turned friendly and warm as she saw me enter. "Great," I thought to myself, "Another snake in the grass, waiting to backstab me or rip me off." "Captain. To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?" Her voice was like sandpaper scraping across gravel and her eyes were hiding beneath a sea of wrinkles. She was arched over a table covered in mountains of papers and data slates with a small army of scribes squirreling around in the background, handing over and receiving stacks of paper at a frightening rate. Despite her obvious advanced age, her hands moved with a frightening speed, grabbing and handing out the stacks of paper the scribes transported around while typing down information on the data slates. "I wish to restructure the economic overview of the planet below. Now!" I started and I saw her narrow her eyes at my words. "That is an enormous undertaking, Captain. Are you certain we have the time?" Her objection was a fair one, but it was not as hard as she made it out to be. Running an economy, be it for a nation or a planet, was like a household economy, there were just more zeroes at the end of the numbers. "How much does the average worker on the planet earn, for every 100 Imperial crowns made in profit?" I pressed. "5 Imperial crowns, Captain." The answer came without hesitation. She had accepted that this was happening. "And we have a 20% flat tax on any income in place on the planet. Here is what I want you to do. Raise the pay of the average worker to 15 crowns on the 100. Implement a varied tax rate based on income, with the richer paying the lion''s share of the taxes, Institute 4 daily mandatory working hours in the mines for anyone who is not working there already, including the nobility and their households. Start work on disbanding the class system and move toward a system where worship of the Emperor is at the top of everyone''s to-do list. Start the process of disbanding nobility and higher ranks, we need hands in the workforce, and I will not accept that a good portion of the healthiest part of the population sit on their asses while the rest struggle to meet the tithe requirements. Start confiscating any food that is grown, sold, transported, and otherwise located on the planet, distribute it into large food banks in every city, and start rationing the food to ensure everyone gets a fair and proper share determined by family size. I need the populace to be strong and healthy to work hard and serve as guardsmen. Start disbanding the various militias and noble household armies, and start creating a PDF, with a focus on keeping the peace rather than anything else. I want them to function both as upholders of the law, and protectors of the planet. Yes, there will be push-back from the local lords. I care not. They will accept this new way of things or see themselves obliterated. I will not hesitate to order the ship to fire from low orbit to prove a point!" This was a good beginning and would keep the various people around me busy for the foreseeable future. "Captain! This- This will take quite a while and will be met with severe opposition from the local lords! They might rebel against the Imperium in response!" The Purser argued, and she had a good case. Except I had a reason to not listen. "They will listen to their governor or they will be sent to meet the Emperor! Do not fail me, but inform me if I need to deploy troops to the planet below. I have things to attend to, you know my will. See it through.." I was not in an arguing mood, and I did have the power to simply veto anyone on board this ship, except perhaps a commissar, which I conveniently did not employ the use of. Who in their right mind wanted to work with someone who could declare you unfit for service? "I...- Yes. Captain. Ave Imperator!" The old woman said and presented the Aquila. I returned the formal greeting and turned to leave. When I left the room, I could have sworn I saw a shadow flicker in the corner of my eye, but when I turned my head, there was nothing. My danger instinct was calm and no gut feeling told me anything was out of order, but I still felt curious. Walking down to the junction where the flickering had taken place, I saw nothing out of the ordinary. I looked around, behind pipes and wiring, underneath panels, everywhere I could think, and nothing. Thinking nothing of it, I shrugged my shoulders and began walking back, but my eye caught something out of place. There, embedded in the wall and partially hidden in the shadows, was a small rat skull strung upon a simple, thin iron chain wrapped around it. Most people would have thought nothing of it. Not me though. I knew this thing, this foul pendant, better than most. It represented the faction I had loved most of all within the 40k universe, aside from the glorious space marines. But that couldn''t be, they couldn''t be here, it was the wrong universe. They belonged in the Warhammer Fantasy universe, not the 40k one. And how would they have found their way to an Imperial space station, hanging above a feudal world? And there it was, staring me in the face. Feudal world. Fuck me. I was staring at the evidence of a Skaven infestation. And not just any Skaven infestation, but one that was sanctioned by a Council of Thirteen. Chapter 30: Drafting a merchant. The discovery of the foul pendant made me search the area almost frantically, looking for any more signs of Skaven. And I found them. Small markings etched in the wall, no doubt runes from their written language. The Skaven had a large and complex written language, even more so than any other race. A rune or symbol for every word, concept, idea, thought, and thing. This meant that most Skaven did not know all of them beyond a basic idea of the concept, but they knew enough to understand whatever basic idea was being conveyed. I found several small markings I did not know the meaning of, but I also found runes indicating both the Grey Seers and Clan Skryre, the mad rat engineers that used warp stone to make unholy weapons of incredible destructive power. The symbols etched in the walls had no doubt been placed by Clan Eshin, the assassins, and spies amongst the rats. That only left evidence of Clan Moulder, the surgeons and flesh crafters, makers of rat-ogres and beasts alike and by far the wealthiest clan of them all. But they would be here as well, even if I couldn''t find any sign of them. If the overgrown rats were bold enough to mark territory under direct and immediate Imperial control, then they were most likely under the influence of the Musk of Battle, a curious thing that happened whenever a Skaven burrow reached its upper limit in regards to population density and availability of food, meaning they would be looking to expand, through the conquest of needed. The only thing that bothered me was, we were on a space station several hundred kilometers above the planet. How on earth did they gain entrance here, to begin with? Could they have snuck aboard the cargo haulers bringing ore from the planet?? It seemed the most likely. The only other way they could have gotten on board was if they had help. Which was a whole can of trouble I did not even want to consider unless I could rule out everything else. In any case, I could sound the general alarm, send troopers out to comb the station with a fine tooth comb, and they would most likely find nothing. Or. I could go get Trokk and his Ogryns, pick up a squad or two of voidsmen, they had better experience moving and fighting inside the ship, and go hunting myself. bringing back a corpse to display to anyone thinking I had lost my marbles would be a godsend, especially when it came time to convince the Mechanicus that they did not have full control of the areas of their charge. I know, it is not the safe thing to do, but I wanted more than boredom and endless lists. I was a rogue trader, and I think it was about time I took on the mantle of a Trader Militant. Satisfied with this plan of action, I turned to walk away, but a sudden whim made me stop. I wondered... I turned on my witch-sight and was assaulted by a projection of bright lights. As many runes and pictograms as I had found etched in the walls in inconspicuous places, they were nothing compared to the light show that sprang up in front of me. Walls of text written in the Skaven language, every single rune brimming with the power of the warp. It seemed as if the text was drawing in warp power in minute amounts, gathering it up like a flux. Disturbing the writing could have catastrophic results, anything from a fizzle of energy, to the station being ripped apart, could happen. So of course that''s what I did, betting on my luck stat to keep me safe. I ran my knife diagonally across one of the walls of text, disturbing the finely carved runes and intricate symbols, and was immediately thrown violently against the opposite wall as a blast of psychic energy was unleashed in an instant, a gale of wind rushing through the corridors. Dazed and confused, I lay there rethinking several life choices recently made, when I heard stomping feet approaching fast. It turned out to be several guardsmen investigating the strange phenomenon and they quickly gathered around to make sure I was okay. "Get Farsyn. Now!" I ordered as I slowly got up. I was not well versed in being a psyker or the powers that followed with it, and I needed someone much more experienced to help with this. Summoning my Navigator Primaris was a bit of a gamble since there was a chance he would catch on to me being an unsanctioned psyker, but since he was from a Shrouded House bloodline, there was also a good chance he might just ignore it, in favor for continuing working for me, which could be a path to redemption for his fallen family. In any case, I had turned off my witch sight the moment I gained control of myself after being flung through the air. I had hit the wall hard, but not hard enough to do any real damage. Bruised and with a hurting ego, I rose to my feet as the guardsmen fussed around me. They may find me strange and my way of thinking weird, but they also knew that I treated the common soldier with a least a grain of respect, which is more than they got from 99% of any other higher-ranking personel they will ever meet. I sat down on the floor, crossed my legs, and began to wait while I observed my surroundings. The guardsmen, not knowing what to do, assumed positions up and down the corridor, standing watch and looking out for any potential danger. If nothing else, they were dutiful. It took almost an hour, but Farsyn finally came hurrying down the corridor with a slew of astropaths and guards in tow. It pleased me that he took care to ensure he and his subordinates were safe when venturing the station or my ship, the astropathic choir being my only link back to the Imperium once I left the relative safety of Imperial space. He didn''t even make it down to me before he slowed down, staring in awe and fear at the hidden texts on the walls "What- What is all of this?" He said slowly as he gestured around him. "All of what?" I asked aggressively. "I was thrown against the wall by... Something! All because I dragged my knife along a wall!" I was playing dumb and the skepticism on Farsyn''s face did not escape my attention, but he had more important things to deal with than my vague explanations. "Captain, my astropaths and I will need to work uninterrupted for quite a while. Can you instruct your guardsmen to keep anyone from interrupting us while we work?" Farsyn knew better than to press the matter with me, when we were not alone, and thus put all of his in the back of his mind to deal with the current issue at hand. "Done. Seek me out once you are done. We have things to talk about, Navigator." I answered as I gestured to the guardsmen already in position around the area to stay and stand guard. Another gesture brought the Corporal closer, ready to receive instructions. "Increase patrols all over the station, increase the size of patrolling units, and," I pointed out the small charm embedded in the wall, "Wherever you find these, or anything like it, I want soldiers on permanent watch. Instruct them to pack an extra ammo bag for their shot cannons, and a fully charged pack for their las pistol. If anyone is found sleeping or slacking off in that specific guard duty, summary execution will be the punishment. And do not touch them!" I spat at him at the hast with which he presented the Aquila and hurried off to make my orders a reality was enough proof that I had scared him sufficiently to understand the gravity of the situation. A trooper came up to me, holding the knife that had been flung away from me when I was thrown against the wall, and I took it with a nod. Before departing, I bent down and pried the Skaven pendant free from the wall, wrapping it in the cloth of my jacket as I picked it up. There was no telling what the fiendish ratkin had done to these things. After that whole ordeal, I retreated to my room, placing the pendant on a small shelf in a glass cabinet left by its previous owner, taking care to lock the cabinet back up. For a moment I thought about trapping the cabinet, but decided against it, choosing instead to trap one of my hairs between the cabinet and the glass door. If anyone opened it when I wasn''t here, the hair would fall to the ground, betraying any sneak thief in the process. With all that done, I sat down and started penning a letter that would be copied to the various city mayors below and distributed at the first chance. Precautions were needed to fight the Skaven effectively. First, they needed to triple the guards around granaries and food stores, as well as any industry quarters in the city that worked with metal, the ratkin''s greed for the metal was as insatiable as their hunger. They needed to increase the number of local city guards, improve and repair their sewer access grates, making them lockable and putting orders in place to lock them down each night, and in case of any grate being picked open, an ambush of guards should be placed for the following nights. I didn''t bother explaining the last bit, I just added several phrases making it clear the horrors I would inflict upon any mayor stupid enough to go against my will. To take the edge off of my harsh orders, I also added an order to keep a detailed list of extra expenditures associated with these orders with a promise that the extra expense would be covered by their planetary governor, as a sign of understanding that they, and by extension I, still had tithe quotas to meet. With all that done, I poured myself a glass of amasec and enjoyed the rich aroma rising from the glass. I had only taken the first sip when a communicae sounded from the vox in the wall. "Captain, Imperial trade ships are approaching the station. They are hailing the old governor with words of familiar greeting." My young first officer''s voice rang out, and I felt a slow headache building behind my forehead. "Summon them the moment they make landing. I might have use for an Imperial merchant. Do not inform them of the change in governor." I said in a neutral voice. I did not need the distraction of a bootlicker trying to score a sweet trade deal, least of all one that already had a fleet of ships behind him. I was technically quite poor for a rogue trader, at least for the moment, but what I lacked in material wealth, I had gained in a small reputation among the people with real power. And it was time to cement more of a reputation. I liked the thought of the trader militant label, which would serve as an excellent way to enforce that reputation. I made ready to receive the guests, making my way to the closest thing to a throne room on the station where the old governor would receive important guests. It was a gaudy place, covered to the brim in expensive silks, gold inlay in the flooring, statues of the former governor, crystal decanter, and glass sets strategically placed so a servant would never have to walk far to get one for a guest, mosaics made from gemstones and precious metals. The entire room was as tasteless as it was extravagant, and if I had the time I would have ordered my troops to dismantle it all to be sold for a profit, which in turn would be used to improve the situation on the planet below. I summoned Trokk and his Ogryns, directing them to wait in the shadows near the doors to the room. Once our guests entered, they would walk straight past the monstrous abhumans without ever noticing them. It would make for a wonderful surprise, should they not be as pleased with the change in leadership, as the people below would soon be, at least once my changes were implemented. It took almost an hour for the ships to arrive, dock, and discharge their Chartist captain along with the subordinate captains of the other ships that followed him, and I was getting bored with the waiting, but I could not break character. Contrary to belief, most statecraft is nothing more than theatrics and timing woven into an artfully directed illusion, presented to your intended target with one specific goal in mind. And my goal was to present a front of disgustingly exaggerated control over my surroundings. I wanted them to see me as a person that played cards while they were playing dice. To think I had already thought about every possibility and taken steps to ensure they fall out in my favor. When they finally arrived, they were neither silent nor respectful. The door was kicked open and a woman, not much older than myself, swaggered into the hall with all the self-confidence of a person who had complete and utter power over everything in her immediate surroundings. A small retinue of capable-looking bodyguards, headed by an arch-militant, followed in her wake. "DARTSMA, YOU OLD CROOK, DID YOU GET SHAFTED BY THE IMPERIUM, OR HAVE YOU JUST LOWERED THE PAY OF YOUR TROOPERS AGAIN? I HAVE NEVER SEEN SO MANY GLUM AND SERIOUS FACES AROUND HERE BEFORE! WHERE''S THE WINE, THE PLEASURE SLAVES, THE-" She managed to yell out while strutting forwards, giving me a short while to study her as she approached, looking everywhere except at me. She was very sure of herself, indicating a long service in a position of power. Fairly short and slender, with blue eyes and raven black hair, she had something ageless about her, so most likely rejuvenating treatments to make her live longer. Her clothes were that of an Imperial merchant, expensive and of colorful make from rare materials. It made my military-style uniform look impoverished by comparison, but it also made me look much more competent. A short haircut of a warm brown color sat above a pair of brown eyes the same warm and hazel color. Rather slender, much more so than Elris had been, and half a head shorter than me, she seemed slick. Like she could wiggle her way out of any problem presented to her. Well. Let''s just see how she managed to wiggle her way out of what I had planned for her poor outfit. Her yelling was interrupted when she laid eyes on me, the Inquisitional markings on my carapace armor making her swallow her words with an audible gulp as the swagger left her step, she stopped dead in her tracks and the air of confidence that had radiated out from her just moments before, now seemed to seep out of her like a deflating balloon. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain. I take it you were expecting someone else to greet you?" I Couldn''t keep the mirth out of my voice, seeing a Chartist Captain go from being on top of the world to suddenly looking like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, was simply too damn funny for me to ignore. "I- Um- Wha- Who are you, and where is Dartma Rer?" She demanded, stammering, trying to regain her composure. "I am Bj?rk, at your service. As for Dartma Ret, The Imperium, in its wisdom, discovered that our dear former governor was raising prices beyond the acceptable and failing grossly in his duties to both the Imperium and the planet below. Not to mention his blatant heretical inclinations. I was dispatched so a squad of Astartes would not have to be. Now, do you want to start over with introductions?? Or should we just continue from here?" I retorted, and I had the satisfaction of watching her face change several shades paler when I mentioned both the Astartes and the former governor''s rather liberal interpretation of what was acceptable within the Imperium. For a long moment, she didn''t say anything, but I saw the gears spinning in her head. One did not become a Chartist Captain, especially not of a fleet of the size of the one she commanded, without being an exceptionally crafty and intelligent individual. She was weighing thousands of options against hundreds of possible scenarios, and she only had a few seconds to do so before protocol demanded she answer me. "Let us start over, then. I am Idris van Bale, Chartist Captain of the Emperor''s merchant fleet operating in this sector, here for my scheduled arrival to deliver and pick up goods." When she finally spoke, Idris''s voice was carefully neutral with only a hint of warmth to it, and I saw no reason to be dismissive. "Welcome then, Idris van Bale, to the humble station that is temporarily under my command. As said before, I am Bj?rk, rogue trader in his holy Emperor''s name, with the Inquisitions blessing to boot. I must admit, for a moment I had no idea how you would react, and I must admit I am pleased we can meet civilly, though I think Trokk and his mates are sorely disappointed in the lack of conflict. Or am I wrong, Trokk?" My last words were directed over Iris''s shoulder and she turned her head to see who I was talking to. The shock on her face when I mentioned my rogue trader status turned into her eyes bulging to the point where I thought they would pop out of her head, when 3 Ogryns lumbered out of the shadows behind her, followed by the enormous Trokk with his neural enhancements marking him as a Bone ''Ead free for all to see, and it brought me no small amount of joy to see, as did the defensive postures her bodyguards took up. In this proximity, they had no chance against 4 armed Ogryns with their eyes locked on them. "Yes, Captain. Soldiers that love the Emperor are good soldiers. I don''t like killing them. But those that stopped lovin'' the Emperor I would be happy to squeeze into a ball for you!" Trokk rumbled while nodding sagely as he looked over the merchant Captain, looking for all the world as if he had delivered the ultimate truth to us. The 3 Ogryns with him all nodded eagerly in acknowledgment of their leader''s words, hefting the improvised mauls I had the Mechanicus whip up for them. While not power mauls, they were still 100 kilo mauls of pure steel, meaning that whatever got hit with them would be crushed, unless they had inhuman strength. Even Astartes would have difficulty contending with the strength of such an attack, probably preferring to dodge the attacks instead. Trying to block an Ogryns attack was suicide, almost no matter who you were. "A trick I would love to see one day, Trokk. Now, Idris van Bale, I welcome you to Slud. You and your men are welcome to make use of the station and its facilities for the duration of your stay. My purser will take care of any trade there might be scheduled. Kindly note that selling prices are reduced compared to your last visit, owing to the unfortunate removal of Dartma Ret. Though I doubt you are going to complain about lowered prices." I smiled as I talked, happy that I had gotten over the initial stress of the situation. For a moment, anything could have happened. "Once you have found yourself situatied onboard the station, perhaps you would join me for a glass of amasec afterward? Though while not as.. unhinged, as the previous governor, I still appreciate some of the finer things in this life, and there are things we must discuss as well." I extended the invitation to Idris and that, combined with the formal welcome, was enough to dispel the worst of the tension in the room. By giving her control over when we were to meet, I had shown I was a sensible individual, smart enough to understand that honey caught more flies than vinegar. "I would like that, Lord Trader. I shall be there within 2 standard Terran hours." Idris said before giving me an elevator look and adding, "I look forward to it." She was a fairly attractive woman by all standards, and while I was not against any form of fraternization, there were more important things at hand, as she would learn soon enough. Let''s see just how happy she was with my invitation once my demands had been laid bare. Time passed fairly quickly as I waited for the arriving guests to get situated, while my guards were stressed and on high alert. I had no idea if they smelled trouble that I did not, but their behavior made me decide to keep an open eye and ear whenever I interacted with Idris and her people. I had to remind myself that as a Chartist Captain, she had no more power than a glorified supervisor. Most of her duties lay in keeping the schedule as set forth by the Administratum and securing good trade prices for the Imperium. She might be one of the few Chartist Captains vying for political power, but considering the minuscule route she was assigned to and the obvious consorting with corrupt and indulgent governors, odds were, she was a greedy but competent individual. If I presented my demands in a way that allowed her to gain something, she would accept as a true merchant. Profit above all. When the time drew near, I retreated to my chambers and set up a table and 2 glasses. It wasn''t much, but it made for a fairly intimate setting which would make discussing business nice and cozy. It would also throw off her preconception of what was to take place, I even dug into the old governor''s stash of random exotic items and dug out a few real candles, lighting a single one at the table a few minutes before she was scheduled to arrive, which she did with the punctuality one would expect of an experienced merchant. So, of course, she arrived a fashionable 15 minutes late. No matter, If she wanted to waste time, that was on her since her troops would bear the majority of the workload ahead. She had regained a lot of her confidence when she arrived, but she didn''t swagger into the room like she owned it, so she at least had a good bit of decorum. "Real candles? Is this a business meeting or an attempt at seduction?" She coyed, smiling broadly as she took a seat and leaned back in a soft armchair. The synthetic fabric was a far cry from the solid leather I preferred myself but to each their own. I liked the feel of the leather and I felt it helped ground me in reality. A touch of nature, where none was to be found. "As I said, I also enjoy the finer things in life. And the luxury of reading in soft, natural candlelight is a rare delight that few get to experience." I deflected with a toothy smile. No reason to play all my cards, and it was better to let her fill in the blanks herself, letting her form her own idea of what was happening here. I gestured to a book to underline my words and she nodded knowingly. "This is business, Idris van Bale, mixed with small pleasures." "Indeed, but a niche delight, one that focuses on the self instead of sharing the experience. Are you that selfish, or is it just a stroke of personal greed?" Idris asked playfully. There was no maliciousness in her words, she was only trying to make joking conversation. "Neither, I just have strange preferences. But for now, let us drink and talk, you and I." I gestured to the unopened bottle that was also dug out from the former governor''s private collection, a far cry finer in quality and rarity than anything on board my ship. I was already in the process of compiling a list of things to be moved to my ship before the arrival of the new governor, including several pieces of furniture, his entire private hoard of alcohol and exotic items, candies, jewelry, and works of art, all meant to be used as lavish gifts for other people of importance but stuck collecting dust in the trophy room of a corrupt and heretical governor. They would see good use on my ship, as my only attachment to them was the value they represented regarding further diplomatic relations through lavish gifts. Needing no further invitation, Idris quickly pulled the cork from the bottle and poured herself a generous glass. I settled on a quarter glass myself, not wanting to cloud my mind too much. "So, what did you want to discuss, Lord Trader?" she asked as she took a sip from the glass. "mmm, this is a good vintage." She added as an afterthought. I walked over to the glass cabinet where I put the small pendant, and used a handkerchief to pick it up before placing it on the table in front of her. "Do you know what this is, Idris van Bale?" I asked her, already knowing she didn''t "It looks like a pendant made by a small child. But why a rat skull?" She smiled overbearingly like a parent finding the hidden arts and crafts project of a child. "This pendant represents a danger to the Imperium that has not been seen since the Hrud was first discovered, only, this threat is not diminutive, is not small, and is in all likelihood gearing up for a push to gain total control over the planet below." I laid it all out for her, and to say she looked skeptical would be an understatement. "Lord Trader, while I do not doubt that there are constant threats to the Imperium, I highly doubt anything could be a threat to such a degree, especially against a backwater planet like Slud." She gave a small laugh at the end of her sentence to punctuate the absurdity of my statement. I didn''t respond, instead summoning a guardsman through the vox in the wall. When he arrived, he presented the Aquila and waited for orders. "How many pendants have been removed from the station so far?" I demanded. "74 at this moment, Lord. Navigator Farsyn also found pendants made of what he called, contaminated ore." He reported and held out a small box for me to take. I opened it and noticed the light in the room seemed the be absorbed toward the box as the room visibly dimmed ever so slightly. I didn''t even need my witch sight to see the warp energies surrounding the piece of ore. Only Skaven would be brazen, and stupid enough, to use warp-tainted materials and warp energies so freely and with so little regard for the long-term consequences. I dismissed the trooper and he hurriedly left to return to his duties. I turned to face Idris who was no longer smiling. Her forehead was wrinkled in deep concentration, the implications of this revelation having consequences she could not foresee. "Why are you telling me all of this, Lord?" She asked suspiciously. "Because you have at your disposal the troops and manpower needed to take action against this unseen threat. Bolstered by my forces, we should be able to at least delay any expansion by this foe for long enough, that reinforcements can arrive. And so, I hereby requisition you and your fleet for the time being, until a response force can arrive in orbit. Of course, I need more than a few trinkets to convince the Imperium of this threat, so hopefully you can guess what I am about to ask of you." I watched her face drop as I spoke, the idea of being drafted by a Rogue Trader was not her idea of what was going to happen tonight, but it was what was happening. "You are going to say that we are going hunting tomorrow, aren''t you?" Idris said flatly, looking defeated. "Correct you are my dear Chartist Captain. If it is any consolation, I truly am sorry I have to do this, but at least I will offer you the ore at production cost plus a meager 15% markup. A small acknowledgment of the trouble I am putting you through." I knew I got her attention again, the greed flashing across her eyes was impossible to hide. "That''s less than half the usual price! How can you do it so cheap?" Idris exclaimed. "I told you, the former governor was raising prices beyond the acceptable. But from the way you react, I can tell you are pleased with the news. Good, that should make it a little easier to muster as many of your forces as can be spared from your ships, and start sending them to the planet, of course, keeping by the Imperial decree that technology is barred from the world beyond what is already in place. So no firearms, no modern armor, nothing except melee weapons. We will leave the ranged combat to the native soldiers that will bolster our ranks, their training and natural affinity for the outdated combat will prove invaluable. Anyone able to use a bow proficiently will be outfitted with one, as well as arrows. Your arch-militant should be put in charge of creating a melee specialist squad, we will need them to do the majority of the killing, once combat is joined, while our regular troops hold the line." I started sketching out my plans, but Idris looked overwhelmed as I continued talking. "You talk as if we are going to war, Lord Trader. I thought we were exterminating a nest of mutants!" She interrupted, suddenly looking less than optimistic about the state of things. "Nobody in this galaxy knows this enemy better than me, Idris, and when I lay out plans for a full-scale war, it is because it is needed! The fact that they are brave enough to place their foul pendants and stinking wards around Imperial property only speaks of a problem ignored to the point where it threatens to overwhelm even the harshest of responses. What we face is akin to an ork waaaagh. except this one is coming from below, instead of from outside. Our enemy lives underground and how many abandoned mines and tunnels have not been left on the planet over the centuries? We have provided the perfect breeding ground for an enemy that thrives in the shadows, their natural affinity for intrigue and covert operations only aiding them in avoiding detection. I suggest you put some steel in your spine, Idris van Bale, because we are about to face a living ocean of claws, blades, arrows, and the foul machinations of the ruinous powers. And we have to respond with violence on a scale so massive that we can force the enemy on the retreat, a task I think will be all but impossible if you do not cooperate with me to the fullest extent!" I tried to paint a picture for her, a picture of such horror that she would have to agree with me, but I saw the doubt in her eyes, even as she nodded slowly in agreement. "Very well Lord, but I cannot delay for long unless we find this enemy of yours. No more than 10 days before I need to depart to keep my schedule." It was a small defiance, but well within her right to demand, so I had to concede. "10 days is more than enough," I proclaimed confidently, "And once we have the proof, I will make sure you can be delayed without punishment. So, let''s not delay and get to work. I expect the first troops to be marching to the landers within the hour." I ended our little meeting rather abruptly, but we had no time to waste. 10 days was all I had, and if I judged the size of the merchant fleet right, it would take several days just to transfer the troops. I needed to take to the ground with only a scouting force to back me up. This was going to get interesting. Chapter 31: INTO THE BLACKNESS! Despite my very best efforts, it still took most of a day to gather enough forces to present a proper expeditionary force that could locate the enemy and take up a defensive position while reinforcements rushed to take over the main battle. Getting ranged auxiliary forces from the planet below was as simple as showing up and demanding that whatever city I arrived in, handed over half the garrison, sent messengers out to surrounding cities to do the same, and put the cities on lockdown until we returned their troops. I ordered the station''s master of whispers to get me as much information on strange creatures being sighted, food stocks, materials, weapons missing, and strange green lights. The two first subjects were common enough, but the mention of green lights had the elderly, unassuming spymaster cock an eyebrow at me, but I stared him down until he relented his curiosity. It was not for him to know what I knew, only to get me the information I needed. I knew he was going to try and dig deeper, but my own master of whispers had already gained a foothold within the ranks of the station. Many people didn''t know it, but one of the keys to the success of so many rogue traders, was the master of whisper, their spies roaming far beyond the limitations of the ships and fleets of their employers, looking for information on anything that could aide the rogue trader, from resources left unattended and in need of "rescuing", precious knowledge, trade opportunities in markets lacking certain resources which inflated prices to the absurd, and everything in-between. There was quite a bit of complaining about seeking out the enemy with no ranged weapons, but I was having none of it. I was not about to break Imperial decree while withholding what I could only guess would be classified as vital information, from the Imperium at large. My report to the Inquisition would have to be vague enough to feign ignorance, but specific enough to satisfy any initial questions, leaving the whole mess for whoever was to take over after I was done here It took around 12 hours for me to get an initial report on the status of things down below, and I did not like what I was reading. Rodents were always a problem on feudal worlds, but the overall situation had been a steadily increasing problem over the past several years, with outlying villages reporting giant rats every so often. Green light was also reported, mostly centered around an abandoned mountain that had been mined out. This was not good, an empty mountain meant that the Skaven most likely had a fully grown undercity on their hands. Nothing short of obliterating it from orbit would secure total annihilation. So I guess this world was stuck with Skaven now. No matter, I still needed to initiate a purging process, or at least make the public aware of the threat. When enough troops had been mustered from the merchant fleet, I made ready to leave the station with Trokk, his Ogryns, and the same honor guard that followed me to the planet below last time. I was slightly miffed that I still had no proper slab shields for the Ogryns, But there might be a solution on the planet down below, provided their smiths and artisans were not completely devoid of creative talent. I insisted on Idris taking the same lander as me when I left for the planet, as I wanted her to understand what we were headed for, and being surrounded by Ogryns who was spoiling for a fight tended to paint that picture in the most illustrious of ways. Their banter, shoving, pushing, and general eagerness to finally get to smash the enemies of the Emperor over the head with their mauls. Such marvelous, yet simple creatures. I only foresaw problems once it came time to get them down into the mines. The Ogryn''s claustrophobic nature and fear of the dark were well known and well documented at this point, but I figured that with enough light and people around, we could coerce them into following down below. Once we made contact with the Skaven, they would care for little other than how much blood I would allow them to spill in their Emperor''s name. "Lord Trader, I really do not see the need for me to accompany you to the ground during this operation," Idris complained as the lander shook around us and the Ogryns huddled around Trokk for comfort. He was just as uncomfortable as the rest of them, but his size and neural enhancements also made him aware of his Ogryn charges'' need for him to be the steady rock they could gather around right now. She looked, if possible, even more uncomfortable than the Ogryns as she spoke. I allowed myself a small, but audible, laugh before I answered, "What''s the matter, Captain? No stomach for fighting?" "I would have become a fleet commander instead of a Chartist Captain if I did." She mumbled defiantly, "You already have the full support of my fleet. I fail to see the use you can have for me down here!" "It''s not about use, Captain. It''s about preparing you for what is to come. Do you think the trade lanes of the Imperium are safe? Sure, you might have seen pirate attacks in the past, but what about heretics, traitor legions, and worse? Compared to the galaxy at large and the dangers it holds, this threat is relatively safe, if such a thing can be said about going into battle, but know this. To my knowledge, this enemy cannot yet travel to the stars, which gives us a single advantage. They are locked to the surface of this world. But after having found the things we did on the station, I have reason to believe they have successfully infiltrated ships going to and from the surface, so at this point, it is only a matter of time before they can reach the stars. And even the Orks won''t be able to fight them off when that happens! They are as dangerous as the Tyranids, and the only thing that has prevented them from already taking over this planet, if my suspicions are correct, is their propensity for backstabbing and intrigue in a never-ending quest to rule the galaxy!" I was losing my self-control as my temper got the better of me, and I knew as soon as the words had left my mouth, that I had made a grave mistake. The look in Idris''s eyes told me everything. "...How do you know all of this, if the enemy you speak of cannot travel the stars." There was steel in her voice I had not heard before, and I saw her left hand creeping toward her hip where the naval pistol rested in a quickdraw holster. Merchant or not, she was still an Imperial. Violence was the quickest and safest course of action in the face of anything that didn''t follow a very specific doctrine. "I wouldn''t reach for that, Idris. You are locked in a small ship with 4 Ogryns charged with my safety. How do you think they will react?" I gestured to the group of Ogryns with my head and noticed that they were observing the two of us with extreme attention. Among what I assumed were many talents, discretion was not one of Idris''s virtues. "You won''t have time to draw the weapon before 8 hands, each fully capable of ripping off your arm with disgusting ease, reach for you, after which whatever remains, will be shoved through the deck grating. I cannot tell you how I know what I know, beyond that the master of whispers aboard my ship is extremely talented. But I ask you to trust that what I do, I do for the Imperium''s safety and well-being. You will understand once you face the enemy." A little white lie with a plausible explanation, combined with the Inquisition symbols she had seen on my armor earlier made her relent just enough in her suspicions to stay her hand. "I will reserve the right to judge for myself whether you can be trusted. But for now, at least, I will follow you." She finally proclaimed, but her distrust was plain to see. "Good, I only need your cooperation. The trust will come by itself once the fighting starts, be sure of that. Now, hide that naval gun, and let''s put on our game faces for the native population." I Tried sending her a blinding smile but only got a weird look back. "You are not going to disarm me?" She asked in surprise, still tense as a bowstring. "If you shoot me, you will be dead before my body hits the ground. And since I understand how much you want to live and earn profit, I feel quite safe and secure. Besides, it might come in handy later, so stow and hide your weapon for the time being." With that, the rest of the trip took place in contemplative silence. When we landed, most of the troops gathered had already been transported to the surface and I almost had 500 guardsmen able and ready to move out. I had to admit, for a moment I wondered if Idris would order her soldiers to seize me, but she did not and we could get moving as soon as we disembarked. While still in regular uniforms, the armor of our scouting force had been replaced with metal plate counterparts, and they were under the strictest orders to not draw their las pistols under any circumstances, except a direct order from me. Only Idris, myself, and my bodyguards carried hidden firearms, 2 in my case. A las pistol and my stub cannon, just in case a rat ogre got too close for comfort. Trokk and his little group did not need such things, especially on a feudal world, Their size and brutality would see them through almost anything that could be thrown at us, and I had to admit it made me feel a lot safer. The Skaven were technologically inferior, supposedly, but they were numberless and once their undercitites reached critical mass, they WOULD make it the business of the entire planet to expand their territory. And if they had access to warpstone, that meant grey seers, rat ogres, warp-infused blades and bullets, everything one could ask for if they desired bad times ahead. This reminded me, that I needed to check the cities for black dust dens, the infamous byproduct of warpstone usually sold off by open-minded and entrepreneuring Skaven that sought trade with morally bankrupt humans, The substance smoked like opium induced heavy euphoric dreaming and an immense sense of well-being. Unfortunately, those addicted to it would do literally anything to get another hit, putting them firmly under the control of whoever had control of the black dust. Finding these dens would make it a matter of waiting to get information on the Skaven, rather than searching. I doubted we would find them first, the criminal activities of the Imperum tended to be extremely proficient at staying hidden when they wanted to, and a figure of authority would be the last person they wanted inside one of their dens as long as said person was not already thoroughly addicted, or were prone to accept "donations" to the planetary coffers. The forest clearing that served as a landing area for ships was brimming with troops, both natives and our own. Those among the feudal natives who were entrusted with the knowledge of the broader Imperium and the technological leap present between them and the rest of the galaxy were busy handing out maps to the squad leaders and commanders. Someone in ornate armor and an air of superiority approached Idris and I, along with a retinue of soldiers clad in heavy full plate armor from top to toe, and I had to admit that having a dozen men in full steel suits, carrying large greatswords all polished to a mirror shine, looked mighty impressive. But I also noticed the glances they kept making at Trokk and his Ogryns. It was nice to know that even the elite guard of this planet had a healthy amount of common sense. Enough to fear Ogryns, anyway. The figure in ornate armor caught my interest though. The air around them seemed heavier, and denser, as if their mere presence was imposing itself on the world. I wanted to activate my witchsight, but if it was another psyker, of which I was almost certain, they would know me to be one as well, and we couldn''t have that. The figure came to a stop in front of me and saluted. I raised an eyebrow and returned the gesture by making the Imperial Aquila, resulting in the armored person becoming flustered in their attempt to recreate the Aquila, only to be stopped short by their armor. I waved away the attempt and looked expectantly at the newcomer. "My Lord, forgive me for demanding an explanation, but ordering such significant numbers of the local troops to assemble, armed and ready for battle, is an issue of great concern to the local leaders. I hope you understand the desire for clarity on this delicate matter." The voice was that of a woman of undetermined age, the armor and closed helmet completely covering her features. I turned slightly toward her to give her my full attention as I answered. "I am afraid I do not understand. You have been given orders by those stationed above you and are expected to do as ordered. The Imperium requires bodies to protect you and your people. Speaking of, I wish to gather all the leaders, mayors, prefects, officials, and whoever else holds power over settlements and cities on the planet. Some things must be clarified, but I recognize this will take time. If you dispatch messengers now, I am certain they will have gathered once I return." It was an effort to keep my voice light and unbothered, but I like to think I succeeded. I didn''t need already worried officials turning to panic over imagined problems. And ignorance was a virtue in this universe. Better to keep them ignorant for as long as possible. "You plan to travel with the troops?" Despite being muffled by the helmet, the shock was clear in the voice of the, I assumed, highest-ranking battlefield commander. "Of course. How else am I going to make a proper report on the conditions of things down here?" I said with a wide smile as the commander visibly wilted in front of me. "Now, gather up the men, and let''s start heading for the Glowing Mountain." "The Glowing Mountain? But those mineshafts were abandoned many decades ago. What could we hope to find there except dust and rocks, Lord?" Even her elite guards seemed amused if their body language was to be believed, and I could hear the slight laughter behind their helmets. "If I''m right, which I know is a certainty, much more than we ever wanted." I retorted and my words gave them a slight pause. What could they expect to find if I was this confident in the danger that lay ahead? I knew what was ahead of us and I hated every step towards it. But it had to be done. I hated to admit, that my reason for doing this was not the good of mankind, not to protect the innocent, nor the interests of the Imperium. I did this purely because losing the planet after being appointed temporary planetary governor would see the Inquisition punish me in ways that even the chaos gods would find distasteful, before finding a way to punish me for the millenia to come for the failure. And if I had to be honest, I was not keen on having that be the end of my life. I had a goal in mind and it had it be attainable, it had to be! I wanted home and nothing and no one was going to stand in my way, not even the furry tide of death known as the Skaven. When we started marching, I sent riders ahead with written orders to prepare any spare weapons and shields in the villages and single large city we would pass on our way to the mountain, so the soldiers I brought with me could be properly armed. There would be grumbling, there would be complaints from wealthy merchants, and there would be refusals. Which meant I either had to use my troops to bully the people, do it myself, or simply offer to pay up. I would most likely have to pay up, as 500 men and women in plain robes to cover their flak armor, did not make for an intimidating sight. Once they got armed with swords and axes, and were given shields to help protect them from the Skaven slings, crossbows, and warplock pistols*, they would look far better, but for now my treasury would have to do the speaking. Not that I was missing anything in that regard, being appointed temporary governor, I also had complete control over the planet''s coffers, granting a not insignificant amount of wealth within the Imperium. There was another problem though. Given the access to metal on the planet, and the amount of time the Skaven had been left unchecked, it was likely they even had warplock jezzails, the Skaven sniper teams carrying rifles longer than themselves. Such weapons would be able to punch through Astartes'' power armor, meaning nothing on this planet, or the station above had the potential to protect against the dreaded sniper teams and their warpstone bullets. The first few small towns and villages were more a collection of hovels than anything else, but each still had their own small militia with a surplus of service weapons and armor, kept in good working condition and my small expeditionary force soon enough began to resemble something of a fighting force. With pauldrons, shields, and blades, the robes made the armed troops look more like devoted warrior monks, than regular guardsmen. The sight of them woke memories of the orks I had fought back when I initially joined the PDF, and I suddenly felt a longing to get stuck in the shit with the troops again. There was something equalizing about the fray of battle. Status, rank, wealth, age, it all melted away once battle was joined. On the frontline, everyone was equal. I missed that feeling, the feeling of belonging and camaraderie, of having complete and utter trust in the person next to you. That kind of trust vanished, the further up the metaphorical totem pole you climbed. As the old saying goes, it''s cold and lonely at the top. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. I had to promise payment to every village we came across, my robes having been modified with a small symbol of the Inquisition on top of the hood. This and my planetary governor status granted me enough goodwill with the common people in the small villages to be given what I needed, purely on promises alone. These promises I fully intended to keep, with a bonus to boot, their willingness to help me the moment they saw my robe spoke of true and loyal Imperial subjects that deserved a better lot in life. Of course, it could be fear, but I saw nothing of the sort in their eyes. Only adoration and joy, over having been blessed with a personal visit of one of the God Emperor''s representatives. The children stood wide-eyed and silent as we marched by, the differences on the faces of the soldiers from the various ships giving them plenty to stare at, but it was nothing compared to the pure awe they showed when they saw Trokk and the Ogryns, who for their part were absolutely delighted to see children. You could say a lot about Ogryns, but they were good people at heart. Simple, dim-witted, and in many ways childish, their simple minds gave them happiness and joy from the smallest of things. One of them stepped out of formation and was immediately rewarded by a solid punch to the improvised helmet We had a smith cobble together out of 3 regular helmets. Between the Ogryns, such a reaction was commonplace and it didn''t carry any significant pain for them, it was merely a reminder to get back in line. But it had an unexpected side effect. When the Ogryn stepped back into line he rubbed the back of his head and grumbled to himself like one of the children standing on the side of the road would have done, and the sight of someone so tall and big, acting like one of them, was too much for the children who started a laughing to their heart''s content. No one said anything or even acknowledged the incident, but I noticed that every time we passed a new village with new children watching us in awe, the same Ogryn would step out of line, receive a smack to the back of the head, and proceed to grumble and pout, much to the delight of the kids. Several of the soldiers around us had noticed as well if their smirks were any indicator, but no one stopped it and I saw no reason to spoil the fun. Soon enough, they would wish the peace had lasted longer We didn''t reach the mountain the first day. We barely reached the largest city on the way to the mountain, but there was little grumbling about a night under the stars. it was a feudal world, which meant low pollution and plenty of green nature to enjoy. most of the soldiers had not spent a peaceful night under the stars in years, the only time leaving their ships was for shore leave on some orbital station or spaceport. for many of them, this was the first time they saw this much green, let alone spend any significant time in it. This was a memory they would cling to in the darkest hours on the ship when the grease and oil were dripping from the walls around them during their 14-hour work shift. When your muscles were screaming for you to stop working, your thoughts became muddled and random due to exhaustion, and the only thing that kept you going was the very work that was exhausting you to the core. At that time, they would reminisce about these hours, dream themselves back to these times right here, sitting silently around their small fires, taking in every second of true peace. It couldn''t last, not in this universe. During the night, the posted sentries raised the alarm as several small crossbow bolts and square throwing discs came flying out of the night, killing several sleeping soldiers before enough light was produced, and enough troops had been woken up, that the attack stopped, but it confirmed my fears. The Skaven were bold enough to attack soldiers moving in force, albeit a rather small force, without any significant fear. But it was not the attack itself that worried me, it was the fact that it happened to us specifically, so quickly after landing and making our way toward the mountain. Either they were better at stealth than I had assumed, and had listened in on my planning with Idris, or there were traitors among the ranks of the local population, which was by far the most likely scenario. Of course, it could have been a roaming band of raiders, but I highly doubted that. Perhaps a quick message to the Inquisition, once my business here was concluded, would do wonders to remind the people that certain acquaintances were not worth the potential trouble. After calming down the troops that wanted to set out into the darkness to take revenge, and giving strict orders that anyone leaving camp without a signed pass from me, was to be summarily executed in front of his or her squad, regardless of rank and/or status. I ordered the dead bodies burned, there was no telling what foul poisons, concoctions, warpstone infusion, and other trickery they might have smeared on their weapons. I didn''t feel like dealing with the mutated bodies of our fallen brothers and sisters. It would also rob the Skaven of a potential food source, as grim as that prospect was, but it was a truth that the Ratkin didn''t much care for what they were eating, as long as they were eating, even members of their race was not an uncommon food source whenever other sources ran temporarily dry. Skaven slaves were never in short supply and could be bought by the dozen for a single warpstone token, the disc-like shapes of pure warpstone the Skaven used for currency. The whole ordeal cast a shadow over our expedition, but the rest of the night passed in peace and quiet. It was not even a raid. It was a warning. Just who the hell did these overgrown rats think they were? Sending ME a message so bold that they might as well have marched up to me and told me in no uncertain terms to fuck right off, back to wherever I came from. We would see who held the power to tell anyone to fuck off from this planet. MY planet! One of Trokk''s Ogryns had been lugging a vox caster in a backpack in case I needed to summon reinforcements, but now I had a different idea. I retrieved the backpack and grabbed one of the troopers able to operate the damnable thing with any degree of success and took off toward a nearby thicket of trees to communicate in peace and keep following the decree to shield the native population from advanced technology. A decree I would break in the future if my life depended on it. Dying for some Imperial decree, screw that noise. I was more valuable to the Imperium, alive, no matter which way you looked at it. After my little comunicae on the Vox, I didn''t even have time to return to the now roused group of soldiers, having packed up the temporary camp, before I noticed the first lander touching down in the far distance, near our destination at the mountain, followed soon by more landing all around the mountain. Troops from the merchant fleet would locate mine entrances, both human-made and otherwise, seal them up with barricades, and then reinforce those barricades a dozen times over. Another would be conscripting the locals into a makeshift militia that would patrol the barricades, preferably manning them full-time, if we gathered the numbers. We should be able to, the Imperial officers were very efficient at press-ganging civilians into military service. The fact that this would be very short-term, and kept planetside, only made it easier to "persuade" the unwilling to become willing. I didn''t need a professional army to be raised, I needed enough bows and arrows raining down on anything that, against all odds, might find the smallest of ways out of the barricades that would be erected, to make it too costly an effort to make it out. I had taken care to stress the fact that I wanted at least 300 feet of clear ground between the mountain entrances, and the barricades. Even with a fresh supply of wood nearby, provided by the vast forests surrounding the towns, villages, and pockets of cultivated farmland, it would take days to see my orders finished, and days more to reinforce the barricades to the point where I would be satisfied. But that was fine, I didn''t mind at all. I wanted the Skaven to see what was happening to their home. They had been bold enough to challenge the Imperium. Well, the Imperium had arrived and was stepping up to the challenge in the same way the Imperium always did. Slow, ceaseless, grinding, gear of war being churned at slowly increasing speed, pouring lives, materiel, and death into the problem until it was either resolved or had become so expensive that it was cheaper to just glass the planet and be done with it. I wanted them to see doom approach their beloved Undercity, and send the message that I was here to level the entire damn mountain around their ears if that was what it took to secure Imperial victory. By blocking off all but one of the entrances with large kill zones and enclosing barricades, I forced the Skaven to either make a move on the one open entrance, spend energy making a new entrance that would get discovered by roaming scouts, and close off like the others, or hold up in the mountain, giving me the upper hand on account of having gained the full momentum and forcing them on the defensive. They would most likely go for the third option, trying to scheme their way out of things. Fine by me if they did, it would give me time to plan my attack on the Undercity. As for the entrance, I was leading my ground troops toward, I wanted layered defensive fortifications, at least 4 trench lines deep. If the Skaven made a push out of the mountain, we needed to consider the possibility that their numbers would be overwhelming. There was also the matter of their grey seers and their magic. Everything I knew of it, made it out to be unpredictable and immensely powerful. I had nothing to counter it, no proper psykers, and no one able to use the same magic along the lines of the Skaven. I simply had firepower and bodies, though I suspected that technology at the level I was comfortable with, would most likely seem like magic to the overwhelming majority of people on this planet. It took another half day to arrive, but when we did, we found a small army of people working on making materials for barricades, setting up temporary shelters, setting up foraging parties, and marking the area where the defenses would be built. Trenches, spikes, watchtowers, thick wooden walls, fall pits, kill zones designed into the architecture, allowing for maximum exposure with minimal opportunity of cover during an advance. Contrary to the expectations of most people gathered, the local leader and Idris included, I happily grabbed a hammer to the nearest improvised smithy and made myself useful in cleaning, sharpening, and repairing the tools of the workers. It was strange, picking up work I used to do back home before I was whisked away to what I thought would be the ultimate dream life. I missed this work, the smell of hot iron, the sizzle of the water when you cooled the metal, the flying sparks when the hammer struck true. My mind started wandering as I worked like it always did when the hands took over in completing familiar tasks, and my eyes fell upon one of the crossbows used by the professional archers of the local militia. The biggest drawback of the weapon had always been its reload time, but in my world, they had found ways around that. Maybe I could do some of the same without breaking the decree of the Imperium? I left the work to someone else and found myself one of the crossbows. I turned it over in my hands as I studied the craftsmanship. Solid wood that had been worked with care, iron fittings carefully placed and secured to create a sturdy weapon, a finely woven and perfectly taught bowstring, and a nicely carved wooden bolt tipped with gleaming steel. The only way I saw it working was with gravity, so I found an artisan who was working on barricades and ordered him to get to work building the top modification that would hold the bolts in place, and the crank that would operate the bowstring and move the magazine on top of the crossbow to make the next bolt fall into place in the grove I went with the chinese design from back home which, granted, had the drawback of low accuracy, in favor of high rate of fire. Per my instructions, the artisan created 2 magazines, capable of holding 7 and 15 bolts respectively. The work on the repeating crossbow took almost 2 days, but once a working prototype was made, it was as simple as copying the mechanism to the existing crossbows. There was a lot of mumbling from the local soldiers, their annoyance with my tinkering with a good weapon was almost enough to warrant a proper protest by some of the veteran archers, but once I was ready to show off the repeating crossbow, they still gathered around to watch the spectacle, no doubt ready to throw some scorn my way, if the expected failure showed itself. I asked the veteran archers with the most sour faces how fast a silled crossbowman could send bolts downrage, and how fast a skilled archer could do the same. The answer came back as 1-3 bolts and 8-10 arrows respectively. When I claimed to be able to send 15 crossbow bolts downrange, reload, and repeat the process at the same time, all I got in return was a snort. To prove my point, I asked for the most inexperienced archer to show me how the design worked. A large boy was quickly pushed to the front where pale and sweating with terror, he quickly made his way over to me and presented a very stiff and formal Aquila that drew a smile from me. "Relax, son. Consider this as you helping me and me owing you a small favor." I said quietly so only the kid could hear me, and he tried putting on a brave face. I quickly went through how the new design worked, sending a single bolt downrange and reloading it, so he could see how it worked. Then I handed him 15 extra bolts in a small quiver and told him to hit the target, a dead old tree placed around 50 meters away, as fast as possible. The first 2 shots were somewhat hesitant, but as he understood what was happening, he gained confidence and thereby speed. In less than 20 seconds he had emptied the clip and immediately started reloading, the little training he had received taking over and he stuffed the bolts into the top of the magazine and started unloading on the target gain, this time a little slower but far more accurately. He was still within the given minute when he finished the second clip of bolts and he stood, staring down at the weapon in his hand like he was holding a great relic of war, bestowed upon him by some heretical god. The veterans who had been skeptical and vocal about my misuse of a weapon were silent, mouths hanging open and eyes threatening to bulge out of their heads as they stared in awe at the impossible feat that had taken place in front of them. As one, the entire camp started clamoring for the artisans present to get to work on the same modifications for any crossbows there was to be found. While it brought me a lot of respect from the troops, I didn''t care about that. All I cared about was increasing my odds of survival. I had not been lying when I claimed this to be dangerous, but to invade Skaven undercity was borderline insanity, just short of suicide by an external force. But with the new modification proving itself and the artisans working overtime to copy it to any weapon delivered to them, it had taken almost 9 days from the order was given, until the mountain was encircled, closed off, and ready for me to begin the second phase of my plan. on the morning of the 10th day, I gave the order to assemble in front of the mine entrance. With the workers functioning as a makeshift militia to man the defensive lines stretching out from the entrance, I could bring all 500 of my expeditionary forces with me, but I was not keen on that. 500 men and women would stumble around in the dark, killing each other as much as the enemy. No, we needed to be smart about it. I made small teams of 2 archers and 3 melee fighters to function as scouting teams, but once they started stripping off their armor, I stopped them and ordered them to armor up instead. They complained that they wouldn''t be able to outrun any enemies they ran into, but I countered with the fact that they could not outrun this enemy. If they encountered them, their best chance lay in a fighting retreat while one of them ran to get back up. Their objective was to map out the entrance, and the surrounding tunnels, and find a cavern large enough to accommodate all of us, as close to the entrance as possible. That would be our forward operating base, taking the fight inside the mountain and forcing the Skaven to react to our presence. No self-respecting Skaven would tolerate what they considered to be invaders on their territory, to stay in said territory. I could have sent the troops from the merchant fleet with vox beads and data slate maps. But again, this damned decree surrounding the planet. No matter, I would do it if the initial plan didn''t work, My need for a forward base superseded any Imperial decree. If I did not have a defensive location inside the mountain, I could send people into the meatgrinder for decades and accomplish less than nothing, since the dead people would provide the Skaven with food from the dead bodies, and materials from the weapons and clothes. It took almost half a day, and I received 2 reports of giant rats making the exploration difficult, but nothing on the Ratkin. This was bad, if they were hanging back and letting the Clan Moulder creations take care of harassing my scouts, that meant that whenever they chose to attack, they would pour everything into it. We didn''t have much time to prepare, and we had an enormous amount of work ahead of us. They did find a cavern big enough to accommodate a thousand people rather comfortably, and so the order was given to make way for the cavern, posting detachments of guards every 15 meters in the tunnel. I wanted them within eyesight of each other, a few moments alone was all a Skaven assassin in the dark needed to turn a guard into a corpse. It took almost 10 minutes to reach the cavern, but once there, my soldiers spread out, covered the entrances, and sent runners back to inform the workers that the way was clear for carts with building materials to be moved into the cavern where work would begin to create a small but more permanent fortification for us to occupy. There was not much I could do until the fortification was complete, so I started wandering the cavern, taking in the atmosphere and smells. It smelled foul in here, like a mix of old urine, rotting food, unpleasant musk, and death. They had been here, if not recently, then at least fairly often, and in significant numbers. I had been bugged by a steady blinking in the side of my vision and I knew the system wanted my attention badly. I have seen many color blips throughout this past week and a half. I wanted to check it out, but there always seemed to be something that got in the way and left me precious little time to do anything other than work and sleep. Since arriving back on this cursed planet, this was the first time that I had nothing to do and nothing to fill my time with. But right now was not the time to do so, as sitting around with a blank expression could not be good for my image. I needed privacy, but in these tunnels and anywhere near this mountain, solitude meant danger. So it would have to wait a little while yet. Perhaps when everyone was asleep I could get away with it. I would have to wait and see. Chapter 32: So. Tired. There was no way around it, I couldn''t ignore the system any longer. With the number of notifications that had been thrown my way, and considering I had not been in combat to get kill notifications, Something was, or had, happened that I needed to deal with. There was just so little time to myself, and whatever time was not spent leading a planet, was spent in desperate, blissful, sleep. I milled around the large cavern to find a place where I could perhaps have a shred of privacy, but none was to be found. The carts had not arrived yet, and even when they did, whatever tents we brought were to be used for storage or command tents. I was also getting irritated, having to wait, when you were the one in command, was infuriating. But I also understood that from my thoughts and commands to the effective completion of said task or idea, it would take time for the people to get things underway. While I made my way around the cavern I noticed countless small alcoves along the walls, some of them barely openings in the cave wall, others reaching deep into the mountain. For some reason, even though the area had been deemed safe, I had a gut feeling that it would be unwise to leave the deeper alcoves unguarded. There was not a lot of room in them, but an infiltrator or assassin from the Skaven clan Eshin could easily make its way through such an opening and cause devastation within our ranks. Unfortunately, I had nowhere near enough men at the moment to both setup guards near every crevice and opening AND take a force significant enough with me to get anything meaningful done. Then again, with only 800 troops until reinforcements arrived, there wasn''t anything I could do unless we all moved out together. But it would be suicide to attempt anything unless I had a literal army behind me. And even then, it might not be enough. A quick pat down of myself made sure I still had the las pistol and stub cannon hidden beneath my robe. These bastard vermin had no idea what we could bring to the table, but Imperial decree forbade it. No matter. If I were forced to save my own life and the lives of the guardsmen from my ship by using advanced technology, we would have to gun down any nearby native soldiers as well. My troops would understand the need and act accordingly. A regrettable action, if it ever came to it, but such was life in the Imperium. I settled for putting out guards at every nook, crevice, and cranny we were able to find, along with the larger openings, leaving me with only 70 soldiers not on active duty or in sleep rotation. I could have chosen those 70 to be from my crew, but it might make people think I liked to play favorites, which I of course did as much as the next guy, but I saw no reason to invoke the displeasure of the hundreds, soon to grow to thousands of soldiers to whom I was nothing more than a mysterious authority figure. They had no attachment to me beyond my title, and so I was keenly aware of the fact that a blade in the dark was never far away, especially with the Skaven nearby. Those cunning backstabbers had a way of worming their way into the darkest and most depraved parts of human society. Still, I had no real fear as long as Trokk and his Ogryns stayed nearby. Trokk had bonded to me completely, my safety was his highest purpose in life. Of course, someone could risk it but a hired assassin would be more interested in staying alive to collect pay, than risk death to ensure a kill. Since there was nothing I could do at the moment, besides mill around and get annoyed at the things I could not do before more troops arrived, the only sensible thing left to do was to add myself to the barricades at the tunnel leading further into the mountain. there wasn''t a whole lot going on there, but a few extra sets of eyes could never hurt when on watch duty. Time passed slowly as I leaned against the wall and stared into the dark tunnel ahead, the soldiers around me were painfully aware that I was there. There was no banter, no gambling, no private training sessions between the soldiers, and none of the things that soldiers usually did to pass the time. My presence was putting a dampener on the mood, but at least it made the men vigilant and observant. no one was shirking their duties, which in turn made the rest of the camp feel incredibly safe. But no matter how dutiful my men were, I still had a bad feeling in my stomach. Something wasn''t right. It felt like every move we made was being carefully studied by an unknown entity that loomed just out of view. After several hours of continuously growing unease, I decided to go get some rest in my tent. With a short bark, I called Trokk and his Pgryns to order, but before they could gather around me, an ungodly loud explosion rang out, no doubt amplified by the mountain walls, and one of the Ogryns heads exploded before a green flash struck Trokk''s left arm and tore a solid chunk of flesh out of it. The wound started sizzling as the warpstone bullet had left traces amount of the solidified warp material in the open wound and the mutation it brought with it kicked into overdrive. Before I could do anything to react, the chartist captain''s arch-militant appeared out of nowhere, saber in hand, and performed what could best be described as an immediate, emergency field amputation. In other words, he cut Trokk''s arm off above the elbow, preventing further spread of the mutation by robbing him of a limb. It was nothing that couldn''t be fixed once we returned to more civilized Imperial space, but it effectively took him and his Ogryns out of the fight as I couldn''t be bothered to micromanage Ogryns that were used to receiving orders from Trokk. So I was left to take care of my own safety once the fighting commenced, which this current sniper attack was merely a prelude to. A friendly reminder that commanders on the frontlines made for excellent targets of opportunity to an ambitious skaven. The soldiers had been busy in the 2 seconds it had taken for Trokk to lose his arm, most of them having formed a shield wall while the rest had been diving for cover. This stark contrast in reaction highlighted a massive issue with taking troops from a feudal world and trying to train them to fight as Imperial guardsmen. Their instinct was to create a wall of steel with a shield, while a proper guardsman dove for cover at the first hint of anything remotely close to what might possibly be considered to resemble sporadic and inaccurate signs of potential enemy fire. It didn''t take long for a medicae to arrive and inject copious amounts of painkillers and sedatives into the, understandably, angry and pained Trokk. Sure, he wouldn''t die, and with proper medical care, he would make a full recovery with a bionic arm to boot, but he would be out and away from my side for the duration of this campaign. So I was left woefully exposed, both to the enemy, but also to any of my soldiers who might eye a quick way for this campaign to end. I needed contact with the enemy and soon. Also, much more of a confrontation than having jezzail teams take leisurely shots at us while we stood around. But to get that, I needed to go on the offensive. With only a handful of soldiers as well, since every hand removed from the forward camp inside the mountain, was a soldier that could not help prepare for the arrival of thousands of soldiers, summoned on my orders to help deal with the Skaven infestation that had grown, unnoticed and dangerously large under the lazy command of the previous planetary governor and, by extension, the Lords and nobles on this planet. An issue I would have to address once the fat bastards had gathered and I had started a proper cleansing of this enemy. Once everything settled down once more, and the soldiers had forced the grumbling workers to start building crenulations on the barricades, I retreated to my tent to gather my thoughts and come up with some sort of plan or strategy beyond, go find some Skaven and kill them to show the bodies off to the doubters among the soldiers. I could of course call it a revenge hunt for the cowardly attack we just suffered. But those words would not sound believable from my mouth and most of the troops would only think of it as me being annoyed that my pet Ogryn had gotten wounded. Which, while true, was not the main reason for me wanting to force a confrontation. While most of the men would follow orders, there was doubt among their leadership. And as much power and security as my title granted me, I was still an unknown to these people. It wouldn''t be difficult to have someone kill me, pin them on the murder, and be done with me. The poor sap that then killed me would then be publicly executed, much to the amusement of the local populace while the nobles would see it as a demonstration of their divine status. I might be a lucky bastard, but I could not rely on it. I would have to take on a new persona. And for that, I needed to look inward. There was a large mirror in my tent, and I placed myself in front of it to look myself over. The blue eyes that stared back at me were my own, and yet not. The color was a different blue, and the shape of the eyes was more squinting, I guessed from whoever I took this body from, growing up on an ice world. I was tall, taller than most, built like a Greek god from back home. Even with the robe on, there were still scars visible on what little skin was still exposed. Countless small scars created a labyrinth on every part of my body I could get a good look at. Several larger and much more serious-looking scars showed previous grievous injuries, some of which I had received after taking over this body. My hair was slowly getting so long that I would have to consider getting it trimmed soon or risk looking like a vagrant. I didn''t much mind the shade of brown, the warm chestnut color sat well with me, even if it was getting specs of grey hair. The stubble of my beard was looking a bit rough, but if I left it, I could probably grow a pretty decent beard. When I thought about it, I had to wonder why I had no beard to begin with, considering that I was originally from a world so cold that it bordered on the definition of death world. I concluded that I needed a change of clothes. I needed something more authoritative. More militant, since that was the trader''s role the action on this planet would cause me to be labeled as. Not the worst title among traders, but certainly not the best either. It was a title reserved for the bloodthirsty conquerors who operated under the name of rogue traders. but I didn''t have the most extensive wardrobe, though there were still options available to me. After some thought, I decided on a pair of dark blue pants with a few good pockets in them, much like the cargo pants from back home. A leather cuirass to wear under an open greatcoat, preferably in black or dark grey. The greatcoat itself should be a vibrant color in a darker shade. Purple or red if possible, but I would also settle for one in dark royal blue. I would be expected to carry lots of gold and braids to signify my status as the Lord and ruler over my ship, future fleet, and possible Imperial holdings. But that was one thing I had always detested, showing status through wealth. I would much rather look rugged and worn, in compliance with the old saying "A knight in shining armor, has never had his armor truly tested", especially if I was going for the trader militant role. Sure, I would face many more direct threats by gaining that reputation, but it would also make most of my enemies, both current and future, approach me directly in a simple contest of brute strength, and those that would come from the shadows, I could get specialists to deal with. I had already instructed my ship''s purser to allocate more funds and resources to my master of whispers, as well as ensuring that all the people under my command were paid fully and properly, on time. My orders had been met with excuses and attempts to weasel around it, but I had stood firm. After all, there was not much anyone could do to oppose my will if I desired things to be a certain way. I was slowly getting a reputation among my troops for being a rather lenient Lord when it came to how they performed their duties, as long as everything was performed well and on time. Adding a reputation of also being honest with the pay would go a truly long way to ensure I would not lack troops in the future. Sure, they would always be against the idea of forceful drafting, but once my seasoned people got to talking to them, they would almost certainly calm down at the prospect of a generally easy life, compared to the many other places they could end up. But back to my new look, I got the thought to have my old issue of The Imperial Infantryman''s Uplifting Primer sealed and attached to the leather cuirss, as a memento, and a reminder to everyone under my command that you could potentially achieve anything. I would not go for a hat, as my carapace armor also had a helmet, which I much preferred. In the stories from back home, people would often leave their headgear in favor of being recognizable. No bloody way was I doing that, I valued my face too much to ignore the obvious advantages of a helmet. I started writing down what I wanted and summoned a runner to deliver my orders back outside the mountain. Once I was done in here, the new uniform would be ready and I could finally start looking my part. As soon as the runner had left, I sighed deeply. I had put this off for far too long. I opened my status screen and immediately, I was overtaken by notifications. Achievements: Fantasy running wild: Congratulations. You managed to find a race that doesn''t belong in this universe, however you managed such a feat. +2 Luck. (Ha!) Incoming!: Survive having caught the full attention of an undiscovered Jezzail sniper team. Agility +1 Unbothered: You have either reached a point where attempts on your life are so common that you don''t care, or you are too stupid to realize the danger you are constantly subjected to. +3 Will Innovator: Despite Imperial orders, you have found a way to improve the lives and security of an entire world through your inventions. +1 Strength, +3 Perception. Trader Militant: You have taken steps that will set your reputation on the path of the Trader militant. Massive battles, planets forced into the Imperium through military might, death, and destruction will follow in your wake. Will you be a force for the Imperium or simply a killer consumed by bloodlust? +3 Strength, +2 Will. Leading from the front: Despite the common belief that leaders of the Imperium hang back and watch their soldiers die for their glory, you lead from the front right next to the soldiers you send to die. This controversy demands both respect and envy from your peers, and adoration from the common soldier, as well as lending considerable contributions to your physique. +2 Strength, +2 Agility, +2 Perception, Feat "Frontline Savant" unlocked. Know your place: Use your power and status to requisition Imperial forces against their will, for purposes unknown. +2 Will. Found in the shadows: You managed to track down and expose an enemy that thrives on living a hidden existence. XP rewarded. Well, I was not about to complain about that. There were also countless notifications about the things that were being moved from the station above to my storage on the ship. For some reason, the system had decided to send me notifications about every single item placed in my possession. endless lists of luxury items, from perfumes and real candles to exotic gems and rare fabrics. I moved on to look at my status screen as a whole. HUMAN. LEVEL 7. STAT POINTS REMAINING: 5 ALIGNMENT: FAITHFUL IMPERIAL++ LITANIES: 62 AUGMENTATIONS: Cybernetic lung(upgrade lvl1, Toxins/environment) LEVEL:5618/385400 STRENGTH: 17 AGILITY: 13 PERCEPTION: 17 WILL: 24 LUCK: 33 PSYCHE: 55/500 SKILLS FEATS ABILITIES RETINUE That was weird, why did my psyche increase so much?? Sure, I had been the victim of a psychic blast from the bloody Skaven runic writing on board the station, and I had been near warpstone and mutation when they shot Trokk, but beyond that, there was nothing, except perhaps the presence of warpdust in the air. But I liked what I saw in my status screen, even if Agility was getting a low, compared to the rest of my stats. I threw the 5 points I had gained into the agility pool without hesitation. The Skaven were known to be extremely fast and agile, and closing the gap was paramount to my survival. With 18 agility, I would stand a better chance at getting out of this alive. There was also a new feat that I wanted to see, so I opened the correct screen with utmost haste. Feats: ENDURANCE: TIER 3, LEVEL 1 (NOTE: PLANETARY BONUS APPLIED) DANGER INSTINCT: LIVING IN A WORLD WHERE DANGER IS RELATIVE AND DEATH WAITS AROUND THE CORNER OF EVERY NEW DAY HAVE GRANTED YOU THE ABILITY TO SENSE MALICIOUS INTENT TOWARDS YOU. NATURAL BLUFFING: SINCE YOUR ARRIVAL, YOU HAVE SPENT A CONSIDERABLE AMOUNT OF TIME DURING CONVERSATION LYING AND TWISTING THE TRUTH. YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED THE NATURAL BLUFFING FEAT. FRONTLINE SAVANT: CONTINUOUSLY SEEKING OUT BATTLE ON THE FRONTLINES, EVEN AFTER REACHING A LEVEL OF POWER THAT LETS YOU AVOID IT IF DESIRED, HAS GRANTED YOU UNPRECEDENTED AWARENESS AND ATTENTION TO CHANGE ON THE BATTLEFIELD. EVEN IN THE THICKEST OF COMBAT, YOU WILL NEVER BE IN DOUBT ABOUT HOW THE SITUATION ON THE REST OF THE BATTLEFIELD LOOKS, AS WELL AS GRANTS YOU A CALM DEMEANOR EVEN IN THE MOST SUICIDAL OF ASSAULTS. A new tier in the endurance feat?? And, *click* Endurance: Tier 3, level 1. Tier 1: Environmental hazards affect you to a lesser degree than your peers. Passive bonus to environmental resistance. Tier 2: Minor resistance to irritants, toxins, and poisons. Minor passive resistance to harmful environmental effects. Tier 3: Minor resistance to diseases, chaos corruption, and corrosive substances. Tier ?: Keep leveling up to unlock the next tier. Finally, fucking FINALLY, I get something more useful than environmental or irritant resistance. Does it take 3 tiers or more before things become truly useful? oh well, I wasn''t about to complain too much. Chaos corruption resistance?? That was a prize in and of itself, that I was willing to throw enormous amounts of my soldiers at to achieve... I paused in my doings, stunned by my thoughts. Throwing soldiers at a problem until it was solved?? When had I become so careless with human life? I mean, I understood that, in this universe, compassion could and would get you killed, but for me to have changed so much. It was a somewhat disconcerting thought, especially when I thought back to my beginning back on Karrik, and the frustration I felt with the indifference of the common citizen of the Imperium. I would have to return to this train of thought. Introspection was sorely needed. I was interrupted by a knocking on the tent post, and I had to return to the present. "What?" I called out, and a muffled voice answered through the tent fabric. "Lord, the first regiment is arriving. 800 troops will be here within the hour." The smile that crept onto my face was one of relief and maybe just a little joy. "Excellent! Inform the commanders, take 500 men that are well rested and eager, and have them meet me at the tunnel leading further into the mountain within 2 hours." I heard footsteps walking away after my order had been issued, and I had to put my wardrobe plans on hold for a while. I needed to finish up with my status screens and get moving. It left me with precious little time to change my wardrobe from that damnable robe, but at this point, I didn''t care. I was about to take 500 men and walk into a mountain infested by Skaven to the point where they had run out of space and were preparing to wage full-scale war to expand. The planet was not ready for such a wave of destruction and death to roll over it, the local lords and rulers would be steamrolled before they could mount even a laughable defense. I took off the robe and was left in my carapace armor and old uniform, but I felt more like myself. There would be stares and perhaps a few questions from the local leaders, but then again, the Inquisitorial markings on the armor might just be enough to warrant the tried and true "Don''t ask questions you do not want answered" mentality that kept people alive in the Imperium. It felt good to drop the robe, the monk looks just didn''t fit me, but I had to do a bit of rearranging of my gear to hide my backup las pistol, and with a little creativity, I managed to make the stub cannon look like an exotic piece of strange equipment with an indiscernible purpose and look. I would not be able to quick-draw any of my firearms, but it was what it was. I pondered for a moment if I should leave the helmet behind, but a helmet has always been a good idea, and I was not about to lose an eye or get killed for the sake of aesthetics. I started to wish for a power weapon, but I would have to settle for something more available and the falchions I had secured my men were of good make and there was no reason I couldn''t use one myself. Not that I left my field knife behind, but having a proper blade would be great. When I left my tent, Idris was waiting outside, looking angry and anxious. "Lord Trader!" There was an insistance to her tone that gave me a feeling that it would be best to listen to what she had to say or risk her leading a mutiny. "Yes, Idris Van Bale, what can I do for you? Speak up, my time is short!" I snapped at her, and the sudden sharpness of my words took some of the wind out of her sails. "It has been 10 days, Lord. I need to make preparations to take my leave soon. The Imperium waits for no one." She explained, and she was right. I only had 10 days to get some results that could be used to argue why I needed her troops here instead of on the trading lanes. "We move to secure proof that I can keep you and your troops here for as long as I need. I wish for you to join me. Bring your guards, we are walking into danger. And don''t worry, I only plan to be gone for a few hours, leaving plenty of time for us to return you to your trade lanes. And no, you do not have a choice, I need you to witness that I spoke the truth, with your own eyes." She didn''t like my words at all and did not attempt to hide it, but she still tried to weasel her way out. "Lord, I am no soldier, nor a very capable fighter-" She began what I had no doubt was a very well-rehearsed and well-used speech, and I was having none of it. "Idris, you are a chartist captain, in charge of a damn trade fleet, so don''t bullshit me about your abilities! You may not be a good soldier, but I am certain that when you have your back against the wall, you are an extremely cunning and dangerous individual. And no, I am not going to have you killed to silence you, if I wanted that, I would have executed you the moment you let your mask drop at your first arrival when you thought Dartma was still in charge of this planet. You may operate using smoke and mirrors, but I do not. Now, go get dressed for combat and meet us at the tunnel leading into the mountain in no more than 30 minutes. If I do not see you and your entourage at that time, I will assume you have abandoned your posts and declare you renegades." My words had a profound effect, turning her anger into fear in an instant. Being branded a renegade would see her dead within a matter of minutes, maybe hours if she was lucky. There was no chance she would escape if she went against me. I decided to extend an olive branch and give her at least a shred of reassurance that she was in no more danger than the rest of us. "I have no desire to see you dead, but I need you to know that I spoke the truth about this enemy. And I need you to know that you can trust me when I say my interests are aligned with the Imperiums. So go, Idris. Dress for battle and say your prayers. Because it is time to go seek out the enemy no one wishes to find." And so, only 20 minutes later, 500 locally trained soldiers, Idris, her entourage, myself, and a few squads of personal guards made our way down the tunnel leading into the mountain. despite our numbers, there was no chatter, no idle banter, and very little boasting from recruits eager for glory. The few that attempted such bravado were quickly silenced by their superiors, the veterans sensing the same thing I did. Danger. There had been strange looks at my armor, especially from the veterans among the locals, and no small amount of scoffing, since my armor looked more like glorified ceremonial plating, than actual armor, in their eyes. Especially Idris gave me a weird look and even went so far as to raise an eyebrow at me when she noticed my stub cannon, firmly secured to my left thigh. As if I cared, I preferred the safety of having a gun on me. All around us, the sense of immense danger was pressing down on us. The darkness was thicker, the light from our torches seemed dim and weak, the air stank of death, rot, and rodents. There were no sounds beyond the noise we made as we moved. No skittering of little feet on the ground, no insects crawling on the walls, nothing. I suspected that the wards I had found on the space station were being used extensively throughout the mountain but there was nothing I could do about that, the time and effort required would amount to years. And that was if I had the mountain under complete control. Time dragged on as we moved down the large tunnel, ignoring the small side passages that diverged from what appeared to be a main highway for the Skaven. It was not a good place to be, but it could not be different either. What was worse, the enemy knew we were here, making it a very, VERY dangerous thing to not only move toward their undercity but do so down the main roads the Skaven themselves used. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Time went by as we kept marching, the long wide tunnel seeming endless, though signs of life had started to show themselves, the occasional piece of warpstone, bound with metal wire and hung on the wall as a makeshift source of lighting. The first time we saw it, some of the men moved to touch, perhaps grab it, But I barked at them to the point where even their officers intervened, as they thought I was crossing the line. As a response, I found a small insect crawling on the ground and tossed it at the warpstone. As it burst into flames upon contact, there were no more complaints from the men or their officers. It was as we were getting back into formation that someone asked, "What is that unholy stench?" but before anyone could answer, we heard the squeaking. It sounded like enlarged rats making a whole lot of noise, but I knew it was the Skaven language, Queekish. We barely had time to register the sound before they started pouring out of every opening and entrance available, dozens and dozens of Skavens streaming out of the tunnels, aiming straight for our rather large group. "AMBUSH!" The arch militant working for Idris cried out and the reaction was immediate. The local soldiers closed ranks with their shields, forming a circular wall around our group while those equipped with the new repeating crossbows started firing indiscriminately into the throng of rolling claws and fur that closed in on us with frightening speed. The first clip of bolts was barely empty before the living tide hit our shields and the line buckled under the pressure, the men groaning and cursing as they pushed back against the raking claws and snapping teeth. A Skaven came jumping over the line, a piece of sharpened steel fashioned into a crude dagger lifted over its head to strike down when it landed, and I swung my falchion, hitting the beast in the torso, carving halfway through the body. A shower of black blood rained down over me as I pulled my sword back to avoid it getting stuck in the falling body and it hit the ground, twitching in death cramps. I grabbed the corpse around the neck and yelled "FIGHTING RETREAT!" before I gave a shove in the direction we came from to get the group moving. My order was repeated time and time again until the entire group was moving slowly back to where we came from. The dead Skaven piled around our feet as we fought to get back to safety, but I noticed some of the ratkin busying themselves with looting their dead comrades rather than pressing the attack. That and their ragged appearance, their lack of clothes, the tattered strips of cloth they had fashioned into something resembling primitive clothes could not even be called rags, and the general weak physiology of the enemy suggested this was nothing more than Skaven slaves, being driven forward to either get rid of us or hopefully overrun us. But they would not succeed, the slaves were malnourished and cowardly, even by Skaven standards. Their lack of any form of equipment also meant they had to rely on their natural weapons, claws, and teeth, to do any damage. And those came up short against hardened and studded leather and steel armor. More than once I felt and heard the screech of claws raking across my pauldrons and chest plate, the ratkin were lightning fast and just as agile, but they lacked the strength to go head-to-head with a human in a pure contest of power. Every time a blade fell through the air, the screech of a dying Skaven filled the air and mixed with the ungodly stench of their fear glands. They could not win this sort of engagement and they knew it as well as we did, and this made the Skaven fearful, but when you backed them into a corner, like these slaves no doubt were caught between our blades and the anger of their masters if they returned alive and defeated, the desperation fueled their fury. They died by the hundreds, their dismembered bodies and filthy black blood littered the ground and covered us in grime and filth as we hacked, stabbed, kicked, punched, and otherwise took the lives of these filthy mutants. We were not immune to damage though, and every so often a set of claws or teeth would find unarmored flesh and do their best to cause as much damage as possible. The wounds were grievous and would most likely get fatally infected unless they were treated within the hour. To say that the Skaven were a filthy species would be a gross understatement. The cacophony of screeching, shouting, cursing, grunting, roaring, and multiple other sounds made it all but impossible to hear what the man next to you was saying, but we all knew what way to go. It was only a matter of time before we came into range of our backup, 800 troops and 3 severely pissed off Ogryns that had recently seen their leader suffer a serious injury. But I didn''t want the Ogryns fighting yet, I wanted to keep them back in case of rat ogres, which the Skaven would no doubt pit against us. What their species lacked in raw strength, they made up for with cunning and ingenuity, mixed with an extreme carelessness towards the danger of what they were doing. Many a Skaven packmaster had died at the hands of his creatures, and even more, had died at the hands of greedy customers wanting their warpstone tokens back after making a purchase. We hadn''t lost anyone yet, incredibly enough, but the frontline soldiers kept rotating out wounded men, putting them in the second and third line of men holding the ranks together, our bolts kept flying out of our circle, though at much slower speeds. It was reassuring that the archers tried conserving ammo, trying to make every shot count. It didn''t stop the tidal wave of bodies trying to overrun us but it prevented them from gaining any proper momentum. The arch-militant was invaluable, his expertise in the field of killing shone through as nothing and no one got near him before they met death, his twin blades claiming multiple lives by the second. Over the fighting, I thought I heard orders being shouted, but there was too much noise around me to be sure. But as I thought I heard someone yelling orders in the distance, I no longer needed to hear the orders. Somehow I knew that reinforcements were making their way down the tunnel to assist us, and almost equal to the number of men I already had. More regiments had arrived, at with the growing numbers, and the sound of combat from the tunnel we entered, someone must have chosen to move to assist us. The air filled with electrically charged energy that made the hairs on my body stand on end, and the Skaven assault changed character from desperate to frenzied. I desperately looked around for the source of this change and my eyes fell upon ratkin, wearing a robe and hood of fine quality, the grey fur and large horns on its head let me know I was looking at a grey seer, no doubt the one chosen to lead this assault on us. Or maybe he had been proactive and decided to take care of us for his own nefarious purposes. He was chewing vigorously on a crumbling piece of green glowing stone in his mouth while he chanted in Queekish. Before I could react, he extended a gnarled paw with claws the length of small daggers, and green bolts of warp lightning spread out toward my soldiers. There was nothing I could do as dozens of my men were engulfed in lightning that killed them before they had time to realize what was happening to them. The grin on the stupid Skaven''s face was too much for me to handle. I would not allow my men to die in such a manner, not without consequence. I holstered my falchion and grabbed the grip of my stub cannon, but before I could draw it, Idris was at my side, holding on to my arm. "No, Lord, we are fobidden!" She yelled over the noise, but I shoved her aside, drew the gun, took aim, and pulled the trigger. The deafening *BOOM* that rang out stopped the fighting as everyone, man and ratkin, tried to locate the source. When their eyes fell on me, they followed my aim and their eyes fell on the grey seer. With most of his torso blown off, the only thing keeping him upright was his tight grip on the staff beside him and he was swaying heavily as his brain came to accept the fact that his body was dead, and the moment he fell over, one of the sergeants from the local troops gave a mighty roar and charged out of the group, attacking with wild abandon as he moved toward the now growing sound of our reinforcements, who were charging up the tunnel at full speed if the noise of running boots were any indication. It only took a second, but the entire group followed his example, charging down the tunnel. The Skaven, now robbed of their leader and the greatest threat to their lives should they flee, opted to follow their natural instincts and get as far away from the danger as was physically possible for them, and the way forward was more or less clear by the time we had taken 10 steps. I was still dragging the corpse of the Skaven that had jumped at me and it was important to me that I brought it back. Not only to secure access to Idris''s fleet and troops, but also to send a message to the Imperium at large, and specifically the Inquisition. If they were here, there was a chance they could be on other Imperial planets, and a general Imperium-wide search had to be undertaken. The corpse was my proof and I damn well needed to bring it back with me, to be picked up by Imperial representatives at a later date. The local soldiers kept sending me side glances, and a few of those with more keen eyes were trying to get a good look at my stub cannon, but mushed together as we were while we ran toward salvation, there was no opportunity for them to satisfy their desire. If I was lucky, they would forget what they saw, though I doubted it. If not, they would have to die. We did not do a fighting retreat as much as we just ran, cutting down everything that stood in our path as we did so, and within a minute, we ran into the reinforcements who promptly turned around and kept up pace with us, helping to drag and carry the wounded that was still in a position to be saved. Those whose wounds were too serious would be cared for and eventually burned once they died of their wounds. I was not about to risk warp shenanigans with the corpses of my dead soldiers. And it would prevent the ratkin from using them as an impromptu food source. It wasn''t until we reached the relative safety of our barricades that everyone stopped running, but I didn''t mind. I had gotten what I came for, and one look at Idris told me that she needed no further convincing. To be honest, I was surprised how well she was holding up, for a merchant captain. Sure, they suffered the occasional pirate attack, but considering that she had an entire fleet under her name and the reluctance with which she followed the orders to join this little trip. She was gasping for air, clutching her rapier, and keeping her eyes firmly fixated on the dangling Skaven corpse in my hand. I threw the corpse on the ground in front of her and said" There, Idris, is the proof you need to excuse yourself from your regular duties and answer the call to war. I expect your men to start arriving at dawn." And with that, I spun on my heel and walked away, once more dragging the corpse of the ratkin. There were things to do, reports to write, messages to send, and a war to plan. And now that the local troops had started arriving, I could get to work on pushing our frontline into the mountain. I couldn''t set up too close to their undercity, not if I wanted us to survive. I needed to spend valuable soldiers on scouting parties that could find the most defensible locations. Unless... I had to gather the commanders and have them scour their ranks for anyone who used to work in these mines. It was a long shot, but perhaps there was someone who either knew their way around or had access to a person who did and could assist in making maps for us. I sighed deeply. I had just left the field of battle, and I was already knee-deep in new worries and half-made plans. No rest for the wicked, indeed. I needed to relax, but I couldn''t afford to dull the mind with alcohol, so I settled for a Lho-stick. With a heavy sigh, I managed to light it with the embers from one of the small braziers inside the tent and sat down to have a moment to myself. I spent a minute making a list of goods to be gathered from the things taken from the former Governor''s private stock. Idris had done reasonably well with little in the way of resistance. An expensive gift of rare goods would go an extremely long way to soothe the demands I had put on her resources. Halfway through the Lho-stick and with the list barely done and handed off to a runner, an ungodly roar reverberated through the cave, causing me to jump out of my chair and rip the tent opening to the side to see what was going on. I couldn''t immediately see anything, but then the same feeling from the short clash with the Skaven washed over me, and I knew that a massive counterattack was forming in the very same tunnel I had fought my way out of minutes earlier. And that roar could only be rat ogres descending on our barricades. "TO ARMS! ARMS YOURSELVES, THE ENEMY IS HERE!" I yelled as loudly as I could to rouse the soldiers around me. "TO THE BARRICADES! GET UP AND FIGHT IF YOU WANT TO LIVE!" The cave made my voice boom with the echo, spreading my message to every soldier within the mountain, and I grabbed a young man who was standing around with a confused look on his face. "Run to the barricades outside and get more troops!" I snarled before shoving him toward the other side of the cave, and he started running as if he had daemons chasing him. This was not too far off from the truth, considering that the Horned rat which the Skaven worshipped, was a minor chaos god in the established lore from back home. There was no more time to do anything, the sounds of battle were being heard from the barricades and soldiers were streaming from all over the cave to reinforce their friends. Even the guards stationed at the larger crevices were moving to join them, but a sharp command from their commanding officers made them stay at their designated positions, despite their instincts to join the fight. We could not afford to be attacked in the rear right now. And I should have expected this. We killed a grey seer, one of the priest caste among the Skaven, as close to royalty as you could get without killing a member of the council of 13. Unless, of course, I had been so lucky. The vermin had been rather careless about the seeming expenditure in life and warpstone when it engaged in combat. There was simply no way of knowing, and I rushed toward the barricade to assist as best I could. It took less than a minute to make it there, but everything was chaos and pandemonium when I arrived. Officers trying to get soldiers into the best positions, soldiers trying desperately to plug any hole in the defense, and a sea of Skaven trying to wash over us. There was actual equipment on these attackers, which meant the clan rats had been engaged in combat. the "regular citizens" of the Skaven empire, they could at least afford knives and spears, and the most rudimentary of clothing and armor. I could see large halberds, slowly making their way toward our front, which meant this was a dedicated assault. Stormvermin didn''t seek out minor skirmishes, they wanted large battles to showcase their ferocity and violence so they could be favored by whatever Skaven leader they served. If they were here, this was a dedicated attack, meant to either see us leave the mountain, fall under their claws, or leave us so wounded and exhausted that we have to abandon our invasion. I also suspected the Skaven lords having taken offense to me initiating an offensive on their home, in the days before they did the same thing to expand their territory. The vermin had always had big egos and a terrible case of "main character syndrome", eternally doomed to think that everything happening in the world happened purely to aid or spite them, and I would not be surprised if this was the work of a Skaven lord attempting to right some perceived slight against him. Of course, it could just be a reaction to having me kill a grey seer so casually, the unknown danger I represented after such an action would undoubtedly put the biggest target on my back, but I couldn''t worry about that. I had started down a path of a leader who led by example, and I would have to continue down said path or see all the authority and integrity I had built up, crumble in front of my very eyes. It was a short run to the tunnel leading into the mountain and when I arrived, everything was chaos. A desperate shield wall was fighting with all its might to prevent being overrun, 2 rat ogres were doing their damned best to push through while the corpse of a third rat ogre lay peppered with the crossbow bolts being fired in a steady stream from the back lines and raised platforms on the inside of the barricades. The living ocean of Skaven trying to push their way in were better equipped, some of them with actual armor and decent weapons, and all of them with as proper clothes as you could find among the ratkin. To me, it was more than obvious that my little excursion and subsequent fight that saw a grey seer dead was the cause of the anger being directed at us. This was not the work of the council of Thirteen nor of a single grey seer trying to assert themselves. This was the collective effort of the grey seers being pitted against me, to punish me for killing one of them so casually. I had shown the slaves around them that the grey seers were mortal, and that they died just as easily and quickly as the rest of them. And for that, I had to be punished. The dead continued to pile up on both sides, but the Skaven had the advantage. This was their territory and they had numbers on their side. This... This had not been a good idea. Not a good idea at all. I stood there for a moment, taking in the enormity of the situation I had unleashed upon myself, and I realized that I would come up short in the long run. I might win now, I might even win the next 100 engagements. But unless I added a magnifier to the power of my troops, I would at best be able to achieve a stalemate that would see this world devolve into a planet that spent more resources than it put out, making it an effective cost for the Imperium instead of a gain. Drastic measures had to be taken to ensure these people could continue to live their lives the way they had always done. If not, they would become a war world, a breeding ground for veteran soldiers of the Imperium. But first, we had to survive this and I threw myself into the fray with unusual abandon. Maybe it was the knowledge of what the rats would do to me if we failed, or maybe I just finally had enough of this cruel and cold existence that had been thrown at me. Or maybe I was just changing as a result of being in this universe. In any case, I sought the frontline and joined combat where the fighting was hardest. One of the rat ogres had made it within reach of the shields and was swiping at our lines while using the corpse of Skaven to shield itself from the worst of our ranged fire. Every attack it made saw men fall over, either from wounds or simply from the brute strength of the attack, and every fallen man was a potential opening for the Skaven who never failed to capitalize on an opportunity to gain the upper hand, and they pushed forward, unrelenting in their efforts. I stabbed, punched, kicked, hacked, and swung the best I could along with the troops around me, but we were losing ground and losing it fast. Something had to be done if we were to be victorious, but the only ace I had up my sleeve would break Imperial decree, more than I had already done. Screw Imperial decree, it was this or see the world fall into chaos! "FIRING LINES, LAS PISTOLS ARE FREE TO USE!" I cried out, over and over, trying to shout over the squealing, snarling, screaming, roaring, clanging of blades, and other noises that filled the air. Native troops near me looked at me like I had gone crazy, but at least a few dozen soldiers pulled back from the frontline and formed two ranks with the front rank kneeling, and produced las pistols from their robes before they unloaded on the Skaven ranks. To the technologically advanced enemies of the Imperium, the las pistol and las gun were little more than a nuisance. But it was still a beam of concentrated light powerful enough to punch holes in concrete and blow off limbs, and against the Skaven and their mostly unarmored or lightly armored troops, it was like taking a scythe to a field of grass. Hundreds died in the initial volleys of fire, and their bodies had barely hit the ground, clearing the line of sight, before the next volleys lanced through the air. You could say a lot about the Imperium, but when troops had a leader who cared how well-trained they were, they became frighteningly effective at what they did. The rat ogres both disappeared under concentrated fire from my troops, and the extreme slaughter the Skaven found themselves to be the victim of, stunned them into inaction for a few moments. Time that was used by the native troops, who had now gotten over their initial shock of my troops using gunfire, to aid as best they could with their crossbows, adding further killing potential to the torrent raining down on the unprepared Skaven. The Skaven attack was not just halted, it was destroyed. A massacre on an obscene scale, hundreds dying every moment as the las shots scythed through the thin, wiry ratkin and the crossbow bolts found panicking bodies with their backs turned. it was a rout, even the Stormvermin, betrayed by their large halberds and actual iron armor, were pulling away from the battlefield as fast as their legs could carry them. Surprisingly fast, as it turned out, especially since they did not hesitate to cut down anyone and anything standing in the way of their retreat. I couldn''t help but sneer with contempt at the sight, their scorn of compassion and sense of community was the very thing that prevented their race from rising to the top. They reproduced fast and in large numbers, they had a natural resistance to chaos energies, they were able to wield enormous and terrible psychic powers, and even knew to work mutation to their advantage, as seen in their rat ogres. They could work warpstone into useable weapons, even consume it to magnify their psychic powers. In short, they were the perfect counter to the Orks, the other big contender for top species, but their lack of unity, like the Orks, was their great flaw. When the last Skaven had fled or been killed, a weird silence fell on the gathered soldiers. Even Idris was present, though I had not seen her during the fight, and she was staring at me. For a moment, I had no idea why she was looking at me with such intensity, but then it dawned on me. There was no way around it. Not unless I wanted every soldier in the Imperium turned against me by a vindictive Chartist captain. "Guardsmen, fulfill the Emperor''s decree!" The words left my mouth, but it felt like I was not the one giving the order. There was no hesitation in the troops Idris and I had brought with us. In an instant they turned on the native troops that were still alive and opened fire, cutting them down before they realized what was happening. They barely had time to scream, much less try to fight back, as my troops'' training showed its worth. Precise shots were fired in a calm and controlled manner, without panic, without remorse. They had the luxury of hiding behind the mindset of "just following orders to stay alive", where I had to live with the knowledge that these deaths were squarely on my conscience. I had chosen to break the Imperial decree to save my own life, and by extension, the lives of most of the people on the planet, even if they did not know it, but it didn''t make the burden less heavy. On my order, several hundred people just lost their lives for no other reason than me making a choice. "IDRIS!" I called out. and she slinked out from the shadow of the troops from her ship, blade in hand and a bad case of the after-battle shakes. She was switching her gaze between me and the dead soldiers as she approached me, timid and hesitantly. When she finally rested her eyes on me, there was no small amount of accusation in her eyes. "I did what Imperial decree demands I do! And I would think that you of all people could understand the need for this to happen. Now, see that my orders are carried out. And make sure they come with plenty of ammunition and explosives. I am going to bring this whole damn mountain down on the heads of these vermin, by sledgehammer if need be!" I defended myself by hiding behind the Imperial decree and Idris knew it, but we both knew I only did it to protect my sanity. Nobody in their right mind could order the death of so many loyal people without a care in the world. Idris didn''t respond, but she didn''t stare me down anymore. She seemed more resigned than anything else as if this was not the first time she had been witness to a situation like this, and it struck me once more just how dark and grim this universe could be, even to those in power. Sure, I might not risk getting gunned down for breathing in a manner that is not Imperially regulated, but on the other hand, I was holding the lives of tens of thousands of people in my hands. A single command would see this world purged of human life without question or delay. Was I fine with having such unregulated and total power? How could I guard myself against moral corruption? These questions rang out in my head and decided to stay there, as the now properly armed soldiers took up positions on the barricades. A few of them got to work on moving the bodies outside to be burned. A single body could be burned inside the mountain with little worry. but the amount of bodies we had piled up on both sides at this point warranted fresh air and open spaces to avoid making the air toxic to breathe. I felt drained. Not from the fight, thought it had been a tough one. But the weight of my actions was taking their toll on me. I needed time to think. To rest. So I made my way back to my tent and informed the guard that I was not to be disturbed for the foreseeable future. But once more, I barely had time to sit down and gather my thoughts before I could hear mumbling outside my tent. The voices grew in volume and I could hear Idris and the guard exchanging harsh words. I had to stop this before it escalated. I walked over and ripped the tent open, Idris and Guard both swinging their heads around to stare at my tired face like 2 kids caught sneaking candy after being told no. "Let her in, it''s obvious she will not let this go, and the sooner I can get some actual rest, the sooner we can get this campaign underway." I stepped to the side and held the tent flap open for Idris to enter, and she did so hesitantly. She waited until the tent flap was back in place and I had taken a seat once more before she spoke up. "Lord, my apologies for intruding, had I known you were about to rest-" "I guess a guard telling you I am not to be disturbed, is not enough to convey a message. Should I send a runner with a message every time I lay down to sleep? Or can this rogue trader be allowed to do things the way he desires?" I was cranky and tired, and I made no effort to hide it as if my harsh words were not enough to convey the message. "So kindly get to the point so I can rest!" My words seemed to have the effect I hoped for, as Idris lowered her gaze and her ears turned red from shame. "Lord, what is expected of people in our positions of power is never easy, and sometimes we have to secure the Imperium, by violence if need be. But it is not the reason I wished to talk with you. I noticed you helping out in the forges some days ago. I was wondering where you learned to work like that. It''s not like you gained your rank through sheer luck and promotions, so what rouge trader house would allow the next generation to perform such menial work?" She did her best to remain respectful, and I heard no accusation in her voice, only curiosity and a hint of amusement. "You are mistaken, Idris. My first taste of combat came from my home planet as a PDF trooper. Through luck, skill, and grit, I have managed to rise to the position of power I now have. That, and I gained the good graces of an Inquisitorial agent after being sent off world to fight against a rebelling hive city. I was not born to this Idris, I got here on my own. And the reason you saw me working the forges, is that the mind gets time to wander and turn around ideas when the hands are busy, It is almost meditative to engage in work I know so well." I was tired, but I didn''t care at this point. She owed me her life several times over, and debts were important to merchants, so telling her a bit of my humble beginnings would not be the worst thing. But apparently, she was not sharing my mindset. "Why are you telling me all of this, Lord?" She asked after a moment of contemplation, and for once, I did not have a response ready. "Because I understand that I have pulled you into something you would much rather avoid being a part of. You are a chartist captain, running the trade lanes of the Imperium. Your life is predictable, safe apart from the occasional pirate raid, and most of all profitable. And this campaign of extermination I have pulled you into is anything but profitable. If your ship''s purser does not report a net loss from your stop here, I might be inclined to let my own go over your numbers." I said the last bit with a small smile on my face and a dismissive gesture to let her know I was joking. "But most of all I am telling you this because you have been wary of me from the beginning, and this state of mind is counterproductive to the both of us. I know I do not fit in among the echelons of power, and in truth, I am not trying to fit in. I don''t want to, and now you know why. I just want to serve the Imperium, vanquish its enemies, both internal and external, and see the people under me working in the best conditions I can provide. A happy Imperial is a productive Imperial." Idris stared at me with an open mouth as I spoke, and it took her almost 30 seconds to gather her wits enough to fully absorb what I had said. "How did you catch the attention of the Inquisition and live?" she asked, and I smiled at the memory as I answered. "They suspected me of being a psyker when I am just able to inspire the people around me. As a result of their investigation, they decided to offer me this position and a letter of marque, to explore the unknown in the name of the Imperium and the Inquisition. Which should explain their markings on my carapace armor as well. But if you ask me, it''s just a way to make sure they have me nearby, should they change their mind and decide I would be better served with the Emperor''s mercy. In any case, now you why I might be a bit unconventional, but I trust you understand that I have the Imperium''s interests at heart." We were interrupted by the guard poking his head inside, "Lord, the runner you sent off has returned with your request." He said before shoving a young man in struggling under the weight of a large crate. "Perfect timing. Idris, I would like to offer you this crate as a small token of appreciation for the help you have provided me. Exquisite silks, expensive jewelry, rare gems, and more. I have also taken the liberty of having 3 barrels of Raenka brandy reserved for transport to your ships. Finally, I think I saw a bottle of Theosophist''s Philtre in the crate. I hope it will suffice." I said as I took the crate from the young soldier, who hurried out of the tent again, and put it in front of Idris. For once, she seemed to have nothing to say, doing her best impression of a fish by opening and closing her mouth several times. "Lord!" She finally managed, "This is too much. Such an extravagant gift in exchange for help that I am bound by Imperial law to provide. I would be hard-pressed to accept it." "Nevertheless, I would consider it an insult if you refuse it. I have no use for it anyway, my interests are located elsewhere. And I need the space on board my vessel, so it would be better served in the hands of someone who can appreciate its material value." I dismissed her words rather casually, and I was speaking the truth. I had no use for it beyond the goodwill it could secure me when used as gifts like I was doing now. "And I can see how eager you are to inspect it, no need to hold back on my account." The words had barely left my mouth before she had wrenched the top from the crate, which was quite a feat since it was nailed shut, and was carefully pulling out items to get a closer look. Her small oohs and aahs as she ran her hands over the silks, inspected the gems against the light from the braziers and carefully studied the jewelry work. "Are these real candles?" she suddenly gasped as she held up a bundle of 12 handmade candles. "Indeed they are. I hope you can appreciate them more than I do. To me, they are a source of light." The look she sent me told me she considered me insane, but coming from a merchant to a militant rogue trader, it only made sense. I took a seat and lit a new Lho-stick as Idris continued to fawn over her new wealth, which was by no means small. The brandy barrels alone could earn her enough to make this entire venture worth the expense I had put on her. The crate of oddities would most likely find its way to her personal coffers, but who cared? I had turned Idris''s opinion of me around, both with my words and with my generous gift. This would help me later in this life, though I did not realize it just yet. As for the now, I had to prepare a plan of attack on the Skaven undercity. And sleep to catch up on, eventually. Chapter 33: No more bullshit! I did not get time to sleep right away, even after I managed to get Idris out of my tent. She was so overly thankful that it bordered on annoying, but I understood where she came from. Most, if not all other rogue traders or other people of importance with enough rank to force her away from her designated position, would never have acknowledged the trouble they caused for her, much less reward her the way I had. But it was not out of the goodness of my heart, I needed allies and favors. Giving away wealth was one of the easiest ways to do that, and when dealing with a merchant, also one of the best. And when you took into account what I was planning, she would be even happier when the new plans I was making became a reality. I crafted orders and sent messages for hours after she finally left with her new treasures, moving all the native troops to the outside, and manning the barricades around the mountain. I was left with precious few men inside, but it was quickly remedied when troops from Idris ships began making landfall alongside mine. When I finally was done planning and sending orders, I dragged myself over to the cot that had been set up for me. Metal frame and a piece of cloth stretched out to lie on, it felt like the finest silk and the softest mattress when I let my head fall on the straw pillow, and sleep overtook me before I could even enjoy the feeling of laying down. I have no clue how long I slept, the inside of the mountain giving no clues to what time of day it was. But I felt, maybe not refreshed, but at least I no longer felt like a high-functioning zombie. Idris had been busy in my absence, having her arch militant organize the troops and prepare them to invade the underhive with all the modern weapons we could ship down without suspicion. Las rifles, grenade launchers, shotcannons for my troops, frak and krak grenades, flamers, and other wonderfully destructive things, except artillery. Autocannons had been placed on the barricade leading further into the mountain, alongside guardsmen armed with heavy stubbers. Anything less technologically advanced than us would have little to no chance of breaching the initial defensive line. And 2 more were under construction behind the first one. You could say a lot about the Imperial Guard, but they knew how to dig in and make it as costly as possible to dislodge them again. The increased defenses had bolstered morale substantially, as had the knowledge that they were free to use the weapons they were familiar with. Kill squads had already been assembled, a mix of Idris''s and my troops. The shotcannons mine had, would be devastating to anything the Skaven could throw into close combat, and the Las rifles Idris''s troops had would be perfect for clearing out enemies from a distance. The combat engineers were working diligently on smaller barricades that could be fitted to a cart and pushed by 3 men, giving us the possibility of setting up temporary defenses that could serve as firing platforms for heavy weapons, if we came under pressure. A simple, but ingenious idea. Each of those small barricades would have 6 men assigned to them. 3 to move the barricade, 1 heavy gunner, 1 supporting gunner, and 1 ammunition carrier. 3 barricades in total would be made, to be deployed in a staggered pattern that would allow our troops to file behind the heavy guns and add their firepower to them. it was a simple and elegant solution to the problem of attacking an undercity, providing us with a movable defensive line. And while Trokk was still out of the equation, his 3 Ogryn subordinates were eager to take revenge for the attack on their leader and they were hanging around the tunnel leading into the mountain, hoping for another attack to hit us so they could get an outlet for the pent up frustrations and anger. I planned on bringing them along, but I still wanted to keep them in the back, as an ace in my sleeve, if things get hairy. I stretched out and sat up to rub my face and eyes before I got dressed and started putting on my armor. Today was going to be a long day full of fighting, and that would not change shortly. This mountain contained hundreds of thousands, if not millions of Skaven. And we had to kill them all to secure the planet again. I stretched a final time, made sure my clothes were sitting well, and stepped out of the tent. The atmosphere inside the mountain had changed. from a cautious and expectant quality, it now felt light and welcoming, and I was stunned momentarily by the change. The fact that the troops'' mood changed so drastically by giving them weapons they knew and relied on, was something worth remembering. I was approached by one of my aides the moment I stepped foot outside. "Lord, native troops have been relocated to the outside defenses and the first 5000 troops have arrived and are ready to deploy as we speak. Supplies have been shipped down as well as auspex reports on the enemy." The young man handed me a data slate to go over and I immediately went through the initial reports. at last 12 million skaven, judging from the Lifesigns and the size of the undercity. It also showed underground tunnels leading to the various villages and cities nearby meaning that the clever rat bastards had already infiltrated Imperial society, either with their foul schemes or introducing strange narcotics to the population, which was also the most likely. An addict was infinitely easier to control. "Have some of the troops stationed in the cities where these tunnels emerge. Have them set up a kill zone and put the entirety of the local garrison on overwatch duty near them. When the killing starts, the vermin will try to escape. We will not let them!" I ordered as I pointed out where I wanted the troops. "Also ensure that we have a supply line that reaches out constantly. If supply lines get broken, we get cut off." The aide presented the Aquila and hurried off. I looked around and saw squad after squad of soldiers mixed from both fleets, getting along and doing their duties. Many of Idris''s troops kept stealing glances at me and those of my officers within view, but when my troops continued to be unbothered, smoking lho-sticks and drinking recaf while doing their work, they seemed delighted to engage in the more relaxed atmosphere among my people. In truth, I didn''t care much for how they looked while they did their work, as long as the work got done in a timely and efficient manner. As far as leadership went, I was leaning heavily toward the lenient side of things, one of the better things about being a rogue trader. The barricades had been reinforced and upgraded from wood to plascrete, and heavy weapon emplacements bristled near every entrance, including our own. Oh, the wonderful paranoia of an Imperium where you couldn''t even trust your fellow man, to place his trust in you. The first 2000 men were ready and eager to get this war started, with an additional 3000 ready to move as soon as more troopers made landfall. With guns, and troops that knew how to use them, there was no reason to hurry, so I ordered Auspex crews to move with the scout teams so we could catch any building ambushes or massing of troops ahead of us, and slow, methodical assault began. I had no other protection than the troops around me, an oversight on my part that would need correction and I ordered, via the master vox, the 3 Ogryns to be escorted up to our attack battalions, and then I gave the order for a cautious advance. Sure, the commissars didn''t like my approach to warfare, but it left more soldiers alive after engagements, which in turn gave me more veterans to work with that could influence the raw recruits. Besides, I had conveniently gotten rid of all commissars on my ship, as I didn''t need the risk of being imprisoned and having command taken from me on account of a zealous morale officer. A side effect was more compliant soldiers as there was no need for a constant stream of people taken from some random village or town who needed to be taught how to perform basic duties. This removed the need for commissars and gave my bosun''s time to focus on training my troops, giving me rather well-disciplined and efficient soldiers. In time, they could become famous, but that would take years, if not decades, of achievements to reach such a reputation. But I was getting ahead of my thoughts, now was the time for action. We began a slow approach into the mountain, the first line of men holding shotcannons while moving at a crouch, the second line holding las rifles at the ready, aiming over and between the first line. A fairly standard approach for trench warfare, and this was not much different. Closed spaces, limited room to move, and a plethora of places for ambushes to lie in wait. Not much different from the attack on the hive city, except that we had a truly staggering technological advantage. I prayed it was enough to overcome the literal millions of Skaven we faced. scout teams of 5 ran ahead to do their jobs of finding the enemy before we made contact and discovered any enemies waiting to spring a trap or take out potential stragglers. The barricade carts were ready, the wooden barricades on them wouldn''t be worth their weight in a proper fight, but they would do the job of protecting against arrows and thrown weapons. Not that I expected any Skaven or abomination of their making, to get within throwing distance of them, the autocannons attached on top, with the ammunition boxes in the cart below, made for effective and intimidating weapons, if a little out of place on their improvised movable platforms. They would make a proper mess of things. We made it to the point of the last ambush, the splattered blood on the walls and floor spoke the language of the fight we had been through. But nothing happened as we continued down the tunnel. It slowly, almost so slow you didn''t notice, grew larger as we went deeper into the mountain when one of the scout groups came running back. It wasn''t a panicked run, so they were most likely bringing news or going to find a different route. They signaled us to stop, and I gave the order as the scouts approached. "A lot of life signs around the next corner on the right. Most likely an ambush, but it might be a coincidental gathering. I doubt it though, it was too quiet." The trooper stated in a low voice. I nodded and ordered 20 men to chuck frak grenades around said corner before following up with a 500-man kill squad. "What if there are more of those rat ogre things? Frak grenades won''t kill them if they have armor." one of the young officers questioned and I stared him down for a few seconds before reaching out and patting the las pistol on his hip. "That''s what guns are for, soldier. You lead the charge." I said, and I saw a thousand curses aimed at his own stupidity flash through his eyes before he presented the Aquila and confirmed my order. I could live with much, but not with officers who didn''t have the tactical wit to use the tools that were literally provided, by me, to overcome the challenges he might encounter. The rest of us filed back, allowing the barricades to get into position 100 meters from the corner. Enough of a killing ground for melee enemies to be denied access completely, but not enough to prevent a supporting charge by my remaining 1500 men. My master vox crackled to life and I got confirmation that reinforcements had arrived to take over defensive positions in the command cave, letting the remaining 3000 men of my attack force move out, with my 3 Ogryns in tow, and I saw the men approaching the corner stiffen as the sound of my vox was carried into the tunnels. Like the idiot I was, I had not turned down the volume. 20 men in front started sprinting forward while preparing their grenades, throwing them blindly around the corner before hauling ass back to the now-forming firing line that was slowly backing up. And then the sound reached me, a moment before the explosions of the grenades rang out. The sound of thousands of skittering feet. Thousands upon thousands. It sounded like the mountain had woken up, and was releasing everything with feet, at once, to encroach upon our position. Then the grenades went off, drowning out everything but the rumbling and exploding. Risking a glance backward, I saw the autocannon crews racking their slides to indicate they were armed, loaded, and ready to unleash hell on anyone unlucky enough to get caught in their crosshairs. The 500 men I had sent forward in an assault were backing up in a controlled retreat, and I wondered what they had heard that made them so frightened. Sure, it sounded like all 12 million Skaven had started running toward us all at once, but a lasrifle shot would take down a Skaven. and we had 1000 of them present, along with 1000 shotcannons, and 3 auto cannons. A thought hit me. My men were not prepared the way I was. They knew nothing of this enemy and had no clue what to expect. I grabbed the master vox and broadcast it to all channels. "Soldiers of the Imperium. The enemy that approaches you is a backward and heretical one. A mutant race that worships ruinous powers and delights in spoiling all that is good and true. They fight mainly in melee, but any enemy that spouts green flame, shoots green tracers, or uses foul sorcery, is a priority target for all units. Heavy weapons will focus on any large enemies that might approach and otherwise thin out the horde. Time your shots. Shotcannons reload when the las rifles fire and then cover them when they reload. This battle is going to be different from the first encounters. It will not be over easy! It will not be over soon. But we are soldiers of the Imperium! Our numbers know no end and our courage overflows from our hearts! So, do your duty and grant the Emperor''s mercy to the foul mutant scum that infest our planet!". A roar of acknowledgment rose from the ranks as they settled into comfortable firing positions and trained their weapons forward. Then the enemy turned the corner¡ªgiant rats. Many thousands of them, all skittering toward us like their lives depended on it. I didn''t even have to give the order, the auto guns roared to life within a second of the first mutated rat turning the corner of the side tunnel. The kinetic rounds ripped through the soft bodies, killing handfuls at a time, but it did nothing to stem the tide. Then the las guns joined in and it was like throwing a wall up against a wave. The suicidal charge was staggered as the lasers ripped through flesh and tore bodies apart, but it only lasted a moment before enough dead bodies had piled up to protect rats close to the ground until they crossed over the barrier of corpses and it quickly became apparent that there were enough bodies, with enough intent, to eventually get close enough to engage in melee, at least if we didn''t change our approach to this battle. Skaven had started showing up among the giant rats, as well as rat wolves and the occasional rat ogre. The auto guns did their job and focused down the large enemies, but every second they spent not thinning the horde, it came closer at a frightening speed. I had to take back the initiative and regain the momentum. I had effectively been forced on my heels and I had to take action. But did we engage, or did we retreat, again? "ADVANCE!!" I bellowed as loud as I could, and the shotcannon armed troops started advancing, slowly and methodically. They fired in ranks rather than individually, clearing space ahead of them and sending wounding shrapnel toward the ocean of fur and claws that tried making its way to us. When they needed to reload, the second rank would move forward, giving the first rank time to reload. We started gaining ground, slowly, painfully, in a grinder of death that did not see my side go without casualties. every once in a while the boom of a jezzail sniper rifle would ring out and claim at least a few lives, as would thrown weapons from the occasional Skaven that showed up among the rats. Clan Eshin assassins were using the flow of bodies to try and conceal themselves, and the experienced killers knew how to use their tails to increase the velocity and distance of a thrown blade, and their precision was uncanny. More than one blade has flown near me, only my agility and luck saving me from fatal hits, but I did sport several cuts around my face and hands. One of the throwing stars had embedded itself in the chest plate of my carapace armor, a testament to the speed at which they were flung at us. But we were gaining ground. We had retaken the momentum, and the flow of rats increased as we got closer to the bend. It was like a floodgate was opening, pouring ever-increasing amounts of bodies toward us, with every step we took. "GRENADES!!" someone yelled out and I heard the telltale *Thump* *Thump* *Thump* of grenade launchers unleashing their explosive payloads as the frontline suddenly picked up the pace and sprinted forward 25 steps, almost colliding with the Skaven forces. Then the explosions began among the Skaven ranks, rolling backward in a continuous barrage meant to clear the way for the troops who now advanced rapidly, finishing off anything that still moved after the carnage had passed over them. I suspect that most of the said movement was merely twitching nerves, but better safe than sorry. I broke from the lines and moved to join the assault group, I wanted to know just how much more we were facing, and it wasn''t like my savant perk could help me when there was only a single point of conflict and I was placed squarely in the middle of it. We kept moving forward under the cover of the rolling barrage from the grenade launchers and we soon reached the large side tunnel from which the Skaven were pouring. The troopers did their best to get into position and block off the entrance with a wall of shotcannon fire, but without the supporting fire of the rest of my guardsmen and the heavy weapon carts, they could not shoot everything that moved. Every second we waited for the rest of the troops to make their way to us, giant rats and the occasional Skaven clanrat made their way through the wall of buckshot being sent their way and engaged in melee. I had no clue what was going on with the Skaven further down the tunnel, all my focus was being spent on firing my las pistol and swinging my falchion on everything that got close. The giant rats were a pest, unnaturally fast for their size and aggressive beyond understanding. And there were so many of them. Whenever one died, another 3 jumped forward in its place. Their black blood was already pooling on the ground around our feet and the walls were quickly changing color with the blood splashes, but it didn''t seem to bother my troops beyond the inconvenience, and for just a fraction of a moment, I envied them. They had never known any other life and so they had no context for what I knew to be a better existence. This was all they knew. To me, it was a horrible experience, worse than anything I could have experienced or even dreamed up back home. To them, it was Monday, and I would forever envy that simple fact. My little group was quickly getting tangled up in the melee, the Skaven''s natural agility brought them closer at a speed I had not expected, and if something didn''t change soon, we would be overrun. But of course, things changed. The bigger portion of the soldiers that had held the fallback position, finally made it to the bend and every man that turned the corner opened fire as soon as they had a clear shot. The las rifles'' rapid fire and the flow of more troops joining my side once again made the Skaven assault screech to a halt, despite its increased intensity. It was like rats and Skaven were crawling out of every hole, crevice, nook, and cranny, in the rapidly expanding tunnel in front of us. It was massive, almost as big as the main tunnel leading into the mountain, widening rapidly as I risked a look over the immediate enemies. I saw an endless horde of giant rats and Skaven, ratwolves, and sporadic rat ogres, all making their way to us. But I saw something else, something that made my stomach turn with a fear I had forgotten existed. I saw a group of armored rat ogres being herded toward us by their vicious pack masters, heavily augmented with crude metal plating that had been grafted permanently onto their bodies. Some of them were even missing a limb that had been replaced by either a monstrous-looking blade or a large spiked flail. Due to the size of the rat ogres, it would be difficult to penetrate their armor, even with our modern weapons, as the metal plates were simply too thick to be shot through with ease. But there was a solution to that. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. "READY KRAK GRENADES! AIM FOR THE ARMORED ONES!" I cried out, and several of the troops nearby also risked glances deeper into the tunnel where they saw the approaching doom. Against the regular medieval humans this planet produced, armored rat ogres were near impossible to kill unless you caught them alone and had a staggering number advantage or supremely skilled soldiers on your side. But to the Imperial Guard, it would be as easy as throwing or shooting a grenade designed to crack open tank armor. It went as predicted, the grenade launchers fired the krak grenades, coated in adhesive material, and they struck true. The armored rat ogres themselves didn''t seem to notice the small impacts of the grenades when they hit their armor and got stuck. 5 seconds later, the small explosions rippled through the tunnel and blasted the ogres'' armor open, bending the plates inward and making them work against the targets they were intended to protect. Those of them who didn''t die instantly went beserk, clawing and biting at everything within reach, causing further chaos in the Skaven ranks. Furthermore, the now rampaging ogres spread their fury to the giant rats and ratwolves, adding even more confusion to an already unmanageable situation. The chaos that started unfolding in the Skaven ranks was just what we needed to regain the momentum, the heavy gun carts moving forward one at a time under cover of the 2 others. When they arrived, 2 of them added their firepower to ours, while the 3rd pointed its gun barrel down the main tunnel leading further into the mountain. No reason to risk a rear ambush. The addition of 2 autoguns to the already overpowering outpouring of death from my soldiers was the drop that made the glass overflow. The Skaven broke ranks to run away, but they never got that far before a new presence made itself known. I heard a human voice chanting loudly in a language I had never heard before, and I looked around in confusion, unable to see anything but my troopers firing their weapons to the best of their abilities. Then I realized that the chanting was coming from deep within the Skaven ranks and scanned the area to try and find the source, and my eyes eventually spotted what looked to be a man, standing next to a grey seer and his stormvermin bodyguards that formed a living wall between him and us. The man I saw looked like the perfect vision of a madman. Runic symbols and ancient talismans had been carved into his body, covering him in his blood and what little skin was visible had a sickly grey and green color. His eyes were staring into eternity as he kept chanting without pause. The grey seer next to him was chanting as well, his violently green glowing eyes showing that he was under the influence of incredible amounts of warpstone. Every time the grey finished a chant, a new wave of giant rats poured out forward. \ I was wondering what the madman was doing next to the grey seer, but he swiveled his head and locked eyes with me. I saw him move his lips and I heard him clear as day, "YOU! You are the one who rejects the offer of power!" "What are you talking about you crazy bastard?" I yelled back, as I genuinely had no idea. "THE SYSTEM! It speaks to us, guides us, and rewards us. But you! You go against the plan, against your intended purpose! Why do you think it speaks to you the way it does? Nothing is a coincidence, but you are too blind to see! But I see, I see it all! And the system whispers to me, tells me secrets. Secrets about you, about your supposed ''victories'', as you consider them. But they are all FAILURE! AND NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO FAIL THE SYSTEM!" The last words were delivered with inhuman volume, a screech of staggering intensity that seemingly empowered the Skaven that kept pressing forward, unrelenting, unforgiving. Something within me got angry, truly infuriated, at the fact that everyone who knew about the system, also seemed to not only be favored by it but were also much better informed about the system as a whole. "BE SILENT, CUR! I WILL NOT HAVE YOU PUT ME IN THE SAME CATEGORY AS YOUR DEGENERATE EXISTENCE! FOR I WALK IN THE LIGHT OF THE EMPEROR, AND IN THE EMPERORS LIGHT I SHALL FIGHT, AND I SHALL TRIUMPH! YOUR FALL IS YOUR OWN, AND THE ONLY PART I WILL HAVE IN IT, IS THE GRANTING OF THE EMPEROR''S MERCY TO YOU AND ANYONE THAT THREATENS THE LIVES AND SECURITY OF THE IMPERIUM AND ITS PEOPLE! FIGHT ON MEN, FIGHT UNTIL WE ARE VICTORIOUS OR DEAD! FOR ONLY IN DEATH DOES DUTY END!" The words rose out of my chest, feeling familiar, yet slightly different, from the battle cry I used in the fight against the orks when I first entered this universe. I felt them more than thought them, my anger at the system and against the raving lunatic that claimed to understand and converse with the system, acting as the catalyst for what could only be a new ability. I was getting familiar enough with the system to recognize the pattern from last time, the same feeling of familiar ease combined with not knowing what the hell was going on. My words hit him like a hammer blow to the face and he staggered backward a step before lifting his head to stare me down again. But this time, he was present. He was here, with no trace of lunacy or insanity. Only primal fucking hatred towards my very existence. The mere fact that I was still breathing was driving him mad with rage and he threw himself forward, ripping Skaven out of the way while hefting a vicious curved blade. I denied him the chance to even get close. I holstered my las pistol in favor of the stub cannon and emptied all 6 rounds at the charging madman. the first 2 rounds exploded against a psychic shield, but the 3rd hammered through and clipped his shoulder. The last 3 tore his upper body apart, leaving entrails and his spine attached to a pair of legs as the only remains when his body hit the ground. Before I had time to celebrate his death or ponder both the mysteries of his words and his purpose here, I realized just how close I had come to being labeled as a heretic by the rambling of a mad lunatic. It was a good thing I publicly denounced his words as the mad ramblings of a heretic, but if enough people heard the same accusations come from completely unrelated sources, eventually suspicions would rise and I would have to be prepared to defend myself on a political level as well. But I had no time to do anything about that, as the death of the cultist must have triggered some sort of psychic response, because from small caves and ledges, many hundreds of cultists covered in heretical symbols, some tattooed, others inked, and yet others carved. Even a few enormous warriors clad in massive iron armor lumbered out of some bigger caves. Chaos champions. Most likely aspiring champions of Khorne who had excelled and ascended to become exalted heroes. They would suffer the same fate as the rat ogres, but my concern was not what the enemy could field on this planet. My concern was the implications of chaos cultists among the ranks of the Skaven. From the look of the cultists, the sickly green skin, and the willingness to live among the Skaven, they could only be a plague cult, but with the goal of ending humanity, which would make them a cult of apocalypts. Great. Not only did I get chaos worshippers thrown into the mix, but I got the ones who didn''t even understand their own chaos god. But there would be time to worry about that later, hopefully, but I had to return attention to the present. With the added bulk of chaos cultists, we could no longer keep pressing forward, but we could reach a stalemate. and in a war of attrition, we would win without a doubt, our weapon advantage was simply too great. "HOLD THE LINE! WAIT FOR REINFORCEMENTS!" I roared as loud as I could before I pulled back from the frontline. I had blood dripping from my face and hands, at least a dozen minor cuts from thrown weapons, and I was starting to feel woozy. The blood loss was manageable, but one of the blades had been caked in warpstone dust, and while my newly acquired resistance to chaos influence was able to handle it, the experience was like going through a severe influenza infection in a matter of minutes. I was exhausted, starving, dehydrated, and generally weakened, and the thought of what would have happened to me if I had not possessed my resistance made me shudder in fear. The steps back toward the massive cave we had under control were grueling, my feet felt like granite being dragged through mud and muck, even though I walked on stone floors. My head was spinning and the world was blurring out of focus, but I had to retain consciousness. Someone grabbed my arm to support me, and when I looked up I saw Idris, leading a small army of people carrying supplies and being guarded by a mix of both our troops. "I got a supply line started and have sent word for more troops and more equipment. Most of the local lords have gathered, the important ones at least, and they are demanding you not waste their time further by forcing them to wait... Are you well, Lord captain?" Idris spoke professionally, but her eyes lingered on my wounds as she asked her question. "While tired, I am feeling fine, Idris. But did you say the local lords demanded my compliance? I guess I will have to oblige then, if for no other reason than to show them just how far they have fallen from Imperial grace." I sounded angrier than I had energy for, but the local lords making demands of their planetary governor did not bode well for this future meeting. And while I was tired, exhausted, and drained, this could not be put on hold. Well, it could, but showing up with my wounds not even cleaned would show them just how big of a mistake it was to demand something of me. "Idris, make sure the troops do not move further until we have established a new defensive line and reinforcements have arrived. Keep the supplies flowing, and I will go deal with our local lords." I was exhausted beyond comprehension and my voice betrayed it, but Idris did not have the authority to do anything other than agree with me. The short stop had given me enough strength back to at least walk with dignity, and if I took it slow it didn''t tire me out. It also happened to make me exude an aura of being calm and unbothered, something that would undoubtedly boost morale in the troops, however unintended it was. I picked up a small honor guard on the way, as well as the 3 Ogryns that were still combat-ready, and gave a few instructive orders on the way out. The local lords had set up camp outside the mountain, between it and the forest nearby, and when I finally got near, I saw the local population was busy preparing the lords camp and bringing them precious supplies that had been reserved for the soldiers fighting in the mountain. Looking over the scene I saw several junior officers directing the peasants and workers, and it took a while for me to spot who I was looking for. "COMMANDER!" I yelled and the man spun around quicker than I had expected. The expression on his face was a scowl until he saw the men and Ogryns behind me. "M-M-My Lord governor!" He exclaimed but I raised a hand to cut him off. "What are these men doing? Those supplies are for the soldiers fighting inside the mountain as we speak! I assume my orders were changed by the lords currently sitting in the tent, talking about how they can best make me dance like a puppet on strings?" I spaw my words at him like bullets, and from his expression I had hit the nail on the head. He swallowed hard before he managed a meek "Yes, Lord governor." "I am changing those orders again. The supplies go to the soldiers and the workers who have been removed from their duties will return to their duties, at once! In the future, if the order is not from me directly, you are to seek me out and get clarification." I left no room for debate or question and the only response I got was an Imperial aquila and a lowered head, which was enough to satisfy me. "Shall I announce your arrival, Lord Governor?" The commander dared ask after barking angry orders at his subordinate officers. "No, commander, I am quite capable of announcing myself." I moved past him as if he didn''t exist, and walked over to the large tent. I could hear mumbled talking from inside, as well as what sounded like glasses being clinked together. I ripped the cloth to the side and strode into the tent as if I owned the place, which I technically did. "Who are you?" A younger man, around my age, demanded. "And who let you in here, amongst your betters? and in such a comical attire" The last words were added with a snicker. I looked over the man. I saw a pretty face surrounding a pair of hard, cold eyes. Expensive silk with gold broderie hung on his lean frame and a thin smile on his pale lips added to the impression that I was looking at a young very spoiled lord. His words reminded me that I was still wearing my carapace armor, something this feudal lord would never have seen before. "I am the man to whom you owe you fealty, your wealth, and your entire existence. And if you wish to keep either of them, you will address me as Lord Captain, Lord Governor, or my lord. Otherwise, your family will find itself destitute among the beggars and dregs of society!" I fired back and I saw his expression shift to one of anger, but he controlled himself and lowered his head before mumbling "My apologies, Lord Governor. But this meeting has greatly interfered with the plans of several of the lords and I-" "Silence! When I want your opinion I shall ask for it!" I cut him off and turned my attention to the rest of the table. A gaggle of older and younger men were seated, most of them carrying a look of disdain and boredom, all of them clad in the finest cloth and silk. The plates in front of them were overflowing with food, while the soldiers and workers were restricted to rationed meals. I could smell the expensive wine from their goblets mixing with the copious amounts of perfume that surrounded the lords. The braziers burning in the corners were packed with expensive charcoal instead of the more commonly used wood. The gold trimmings and jewelry covering the lords almost made me lose my cool. The display of such excess while their people struggled for life was enough to burn the fatigue out of me and replace it with righteous anger. I took a good long moment to scan the faces of each of the gathered lords, silently challenging through a stare. They all caved, eventually, and I could finally start speaking. "You have, all of you failed your duties to the Imperium!" I began and the yelling that erupted from the nobles drowned out any noises. I looked back and pointed at one of the Ogryns who stepped forward and slammed a fist the size of a man''s head, down on the table which immediately exploded into a shower of splinters and broken wood. The silence that fell over the lords was so palpable you could almost carve it with a knife. "This is not up for discussion or debate. The next time one of you interrupts me, I shall grant him the Emperors mercy without hesitation!" I looked around the now standing lords and saw nothing but cowed compliance. "As for your failure to the Imperium, it is not too late for you to make amends. There are going to be major changes to life as you know it. I will not accept that an Imperial planet devolves into an inefficient autocracy that is too busy making itself rich to properly manage its charges. Because you are nothing more than that. Glorified stewards overseeing Imperial holdings on this planet. As for your failure, I return freshly from the frontline inside the mountain where an enemy has been allowed to grow strong and infest this glorious planet with their foul existence. I want an explanation, and I want it now. You!" I pointed at the younger noble that had first mocked me upon entering, and he was quick to answer. "We have done the duty entrusted to us by the Imperium. And we have done it well enough. You claim to have returned from battle, but you might as well just have been working in the mine. I see no blood on you apart from your own, and if the enemy was such a threat, we would have discovered and dispatched them already!" His tone was aggressive and it was clear he sought retribution from the earlier reprimand. As a reaction to his words, I whistled sharply and the tent flap was once again removed. 2 of Idris''s troops carried a heavily wounded, but still living Skaven into the tent. The ratkin had been secured by heavy bonds and was watched over by the 2 soldiers, holding their blades high, ready to strike it down. All the lords drew back in terror at the sight of the Skaven, the ungodly stench surrounding it mixed with its muffled screeching. It was terrified, completely and utterly, and it struggled immensely hard to escape its bindings. "What in the Emperor''s name is that?!?" One of the older lords exclaimed while pulling backward so fast that he bumped into one of his guards. "That," I said as I theatrically gestured to the Skaven prisoner, "Is one reason why I say you have all failed your duty. My troops are currently engaged in a fight with millions of these beings inside of the mountain, and you are all sitting here, demanding that the supplies I specifically ordered delivered to the fighting troops, instead be delivered to you so you can sit here and feast and feel important. Well, I am informing you now, that the life of luxury and debauchery you have been living, ends today. There are going to be some changes and I suspect that whoever is chosen to take over the job as your planetary governor, will not object to me increasing the workforce and lowering the number of useless nobles that need to be bribed and pleased for the Imperium to get its tithe in a timely and efficient manner. As of this very moment, I am stripping you all of your titles and your holdings. You will work alongside the common man, all equal before the eyes of the Emperor!" I didn''t get any further, the outcry from the gathered nobles drowned out any sounds. Several of them called for their guards to kill me, but only one person made a move against me. The young lord that mocked me upon entry. He drew his ceremonial blade and jumped over the table while swinging it at my neck. It was a wild attack, delivered by a man with the most basic of training which was forgotten in the fog of anger he saw himself in. I leaned back ever so slightly and watched the blade sail past me, a few centimeters from my throat, and as soon as it had passed I reached up, gripping the wrist of his sword hand and forcing it downwards in a sharp motion before I lifted my leg and pushed down on his elbow joint with my knee until I heard the snapping of the bone. The screech of pain from the young lord was ungodly, and I followed up with a swift knee to the bottom of his jaw. Several of his teeth snapped when the armor plating on my knee impacted his head, but he was knocked out cold and stopped screeching. His guards had moved to stop me when I grabbed him, but the 3 Ogryns had intercepted them, making for a short and extraordinarily brutal and bloody fight in the small tent. The crushed metal armor around the mangled corpses left no doubt about the freakish strength of the abhumans, and the rest of the nobles had herded themselves as far away from the 4 of us, with the guards forming a shaking wall in front of them. "Someone get this fool to a medicae and then send him to the penal legions. Attacking an agent of the throne is a crime punishable by death, but considering the circumstances, I am feeling lenient. Now," I turned to face the frightened lords, "Do we have any other protests to this new way of governance?" As expected, they all fell in line when the alternative was death or downright enslavement. By accepting, they would still be free to enjoy whatever life they could scrounge up after they had worked their daily designated hours. The unconscious idiot would wake up with an arm healing either from surgery or replacement, with 4 guardsmen standing by his bed, waiting to take him off-world to the nearest penal colony where he would immediately be enrolled in the legions created on such planets. He would be lucky to survive more than 10 minutes. "Lord, how have we mispleased you so? Had we known about the mutant filth, we would have dealt with it as quickly as possible. As for the tithe, we have all been bound by the whims of your predecessor. What offense have we caused?" The oldest of the lords spoke up, his voice respectful and his question asked in earnest. "Cultists have been discovered consorting with the mutants. Heretical cultists. My current actions are the only way I can spare your planet, and people, from a fate worse than death. By dismantling the current power structure and instituting my own, I can keep the Inquisition from turning their attention this way." My answer was both truthful and full of lies. While it was true that I could keep the inquisition away from the planet by wording a message to them correctly, it was not my reason for doing what I did. In honesty, I simply could not be bothered to go through the hierarchy of power distributed unequally and inefficiently among self-serving local nobles. With total power came total control. With total control, I could find my way out of this backward, Skaven-infested shithole of a planet. The thought of what the Inquisition would do if heretics or abundant mutants were discovered was more than enough to quell any further protests from the local lords. Their way of life had been, by their own hand, destroyed. "Get them out of here, remove this tent so there is once more space for the troops, and someone get a message to the Omnissianic Congregator that the prisons and dungeons around the planet are fair game to satisfy the mechanicus need for more hands. I have no intention of owing the mechanical pseudo-heretics anything, so tell them they can take the entire damn planets worth of hardened criminals facing death sentences, life sentences, and those that do not have established families yet. Then make sure I am not disturbed until I leave my tent by my own will. Only Idris will be allowed to disturb me, and only in a true emergency." I gave my final order and left before checking if they were followed, but I could not hear the Ogryns following, nor my guards, so I suspected they stayed behind to see my will be done. I headed straight for my tent, not even bothering to take off my uniform, boots, or weapons. Blissful sleep would be mine, and not even the whisper in the wind would prevent me from claiming it. Chapter 34. Boons and Curses. There was a truly foul stench in the air. The flies were buzzing around in swarms consisting of millions, bloated and fat, the swamps I was staring at provided the perfect breeding ground for them. Decayed corpses of a thousand different races covered whatever ground was not covered with stagnant swamp water. Beasts with the soft, sticky, and mottled bodies of a pallid slug, webbed feet that flap uselessly, faces of writhing green tentacles, and a whip-tail growth that bursts from their backs and which constantly wags from side to side, lumbered around, seeking out any form of life in their close vicinity. "Beasts of Nurgle?" I thought to myself and barely had I finished the thought before a rumbling voice rang out over the landscape. It was a wet, gurgling, and hoarse voice that still emanated with ancient power. "Few mortals outside my influence know my beasts from their mere appearance. You are indeed an interesting little one. Tell me, little one. What do you see around you?" I looked around for the source of the voice, but saw nothing, except more swamp, and some more solid lands in the far distance. Everywhere I looked, Rot flies, Beasts of Nurgle, swarms of buzzing bloatflies, plague bearers, and all manner of vile and grotesque creatures were engaged in what could best be described as a mockery of the natural food chain. Everything was engaged in either infecting or consuming everything else. Any regular Imperial citizen would look upon it and call it a horrorshow, a plague, a thing to be removed from any possible realm in existence. And they would incur the disappointed anger of ''grandfather'' Nurgle. But I knew better. "I see life. In one way or another, life is flourishing in a way that is rarely seen. Disease, rot, death, it all serves to create new life." I said and lifted my hand to point to no one in particular, "As the plague bearer''s life ends, the bacteria inside of it is granted full reign to grow and prosper and spread to new bearers. Thus, life and death are interconnected, with one end being another beginning. And what I see is a realm that embodies this fact completely." A warm laughter erupted from the disembodied voice. "You understand little one. So why is it you are not one of my followers? You possess insight rarely seen, even among the enlightened." "Because, Nurgle, I have no interest in following you. No interest in the power you offer or the blessing you wish to bestow. All I care about is finding a way home. And I will find it by myself, with no ties to anyone and no debts to my name. I have no interest in the schemes of thirsting gods that depend on worship to have power." Probably not the best thing to say, but honesty could never hurt as much as trying to deceive a chaos god. "Insightful AND brave. You will make a fine follower indeed. Don''t make the mistake of thinking you have a choice, little one. Grandfather Nurgle will take good care of you!" "No, you most certainly will not! If Khorne could not tempt me, then neither can you. I have my own agenda and I refuse to be sucked into anyone else''s!" With that final salute, I turned and ran away in the opposite direction, away from the solid lands in the distance while trying to either wake myself up or otherwise get away from this hellscape. ___ When I woke up, I was bathed in sweat and my heart was pounding faster and harder than it had done during any engagement so far, and my heart rate had been pretty high whenever combat was joined. My entire body was trembling as adrenaline coursed through my veins and my eyes Jumped from dark shadow to dark shadow in a panic, looking for something, anything, to point to as the cause for my panic. But of course, I found nothing except the empty shadows in my tent. It didn''t stop me from being on edge, so I poured myself a small drink and lit a Lho stick to calm my nerves. It didn''t help much, just enough for me to calm down. I was still on edge, but no longer on the verge of a panic attack, and with a heavy sigh I finished the drink before laying back down on my cot. But I couldn''t find peace, my mind was whirling with thoughts. About staying, about leaving, about what to do next. I could leave the planet, jump on my ship, and continue my quest to find a way home and leave this stinking mess for Idris and the new planetary governor to solve. But that would also leave me with a reputation for starting fights I had no intention of finishing. A bad reputation for anyone, but especially for a rogue trader. Or I could stay, setting my will to see the Skaven exterminated, which would at least secure me a reputation as a man of action and integrity. It could also be used to bolster my standing with the Imperium at large. I was still an unknown, a new player on an established scene, and seeing this through to the end would only benefit me. How I went about, would dictate the whispers that would circulate about me and my methods. With the approach I had used so far, I would most likely be seen as a trader militant with a lack of experience, on account of my rather ham-fisted methods. This could be both good and bad. Good when it came to dealing with military personel as they would see and recognize one of their own. Bad because every other aspect of Imperial society would see me as a primitive brute who only understood force. Could I live with that?? It would put me at an advantage if people thought that deception and statecraft were beyond my grasp, as people would be looking for the sword in my hand, instead of the knife in their back. But was I fine with becoming what I hated, a person who always looked out for himself and didn''t care what happened to those who crossed my path, friend or foe? These thoughts were still tumbling around my mind when I fell asleep, and I woke up to a rather insistent Idris calling out my name from outside the tent. She didn''t sound panicked or in need of an urgent audience, But since I was already awake, I might as well get out of bed again. "GIVE ME 5 MINUTES!" I yelled out and her calling for me stopped. I quickly got out of bed and straightened out my uniform before I made a quick cup of recaf I brought out with me. Idris was standing outside my tent, looking rather impatient but otherwise unbothered. Good, that meant this was not because there was an issue or problem that required my immediate attention. "Lord Captain, Your orders have been carried out. All tunnels leading away from the mutant nest have been sealed off at their entrances in the surrounding settlements. The local garrisons, while befuddled and annoyed with the orders, have beaten back no less than 13 large-scale escape attempts and an additional 20.000 troops from my ships have made landfall to bolster our forces. My arch militant have pressed the frontlines forward, and yes, I know you ordered us to hold position, but with parts of the mutant forces breaking off to attempt escape, and the quadrupling of our available soldiers, I saw no reason to reign them any longer than strictly necessary. I hope that was not out of line." She rambled off her news rapidly and slightly disorganized, but for a merchant chartist captain, she was surprisingly professional when it came to military communication. But then again, she WAS a merchant. And I must admit, I had made liberal use of her logistics abilities. She was unequaled in that regard, even my own specialists, like my purser, couldn''t hold a candle to her ability to retain and distribute information to the correct people, at the correct time. Once we parted ways, I would sorely miss being able to unload all logistics issues to someone who took joy in organizing them. "It''s fine Idris, I trust your people''s abilities. Have the nobles accepted their fate and started the journey home to begin their shifts alongside the citizens? And how long did I sleep, now that I think about it?" I waved a hand dismissively as I spoke, I didn''t mind her taking a few liberties as long as she didn''t play fast and loose with the most important currency the Imperium possessed. Its people. "Almost 16 hours, Lord. And regarding the former local nobles...." She hesitated, and I sighed heavily. "They refuse to accept my ruling and are moving towards us with any troops they could gather within half a day''s march?" It was more of a statement than a question from my side, but I wanted surety. Idris nodded hastily and I couldn''t suppress a humorless laugh. I hadn''t expected anything else, if Idris and I died, they could return to their former way of life by denying any changes had taken place. "I have neither the time, patience, or manpower to deal with this problem. Idris, do you have any combat aircraft in your fleet?? Starhawks, fury''s, sharks?" I asked. I didn''t like the idea that popped into my head, but it would work and solve the issue almost instantly. "No, Lord, but I have a few old marauder destroyers. But you are not thinking about-" "I am!" I cut her off forcefully, "I need to you dispatch them on a mission to do a few bombing runs on the nobles and their troops. Losses be damned, I will have people shipped in from other planets if needed, but I need the safety of having an uncontested rear. Make sure they kill everything moving against us. No survivors, you know the Imperial decree as well as I do." I rubbed my forehead as I spoke, the idea of condemning all the common people to death over the stupidity of a few former nobles with bruised egos and an overdeveloped sense of entitlement and self-delusion, was not an easy thing to order or live with. But I had to unless I wanted even more trouble. I pushed the thoughts out of my mind. I couldn''t dwell on such dark things, not when there was so much that required my attention. I dismissed Idris and considered making my way to the troops further inside the mountain, but I was stopped by a messenger from my ship docked at the station in orbit. He handed me a data slate and hurried back the way he came. The message turned out to be from my master of whispers, and as I skimmed through page after page of information, my jaw dropped more and more. This... This changed a lot of things. I would have to read this through, carefully, and then Idris and I were going to have a long and serious talk. Battle would have to wait, as would the incessant blinking in the corner of my eye. It had been there since I woke up, and I had been determined to ignore it until later. It was a sickly green flashing, no doubt related to the dream I had. If it even was just a dream. I retreated into my tent, made more recaf, and started reading. It didn''t take too long to finish, but almost an hour had passed when I sent a runner to summon Idris, with emphasis on me wanting her to meet me privately. Sure, it would spark some rumors among the troops, but what did I care? She arrived shortly after and took a seat without prompt. "What is the purpose of this summoning, Lord Captain?" She asked cheerfully as I pushed a glass of amasec toward her. "You have been lying to me, Idris," I stated as she took a sip and immediately started coughing as she choked on the drink when she heard my accusation. "My Lord Captain, I have been nothing but truthful with you from the moment we met the first time!" She protested once she got the coughing under control. "Almost, Idris, almost. But not quite. Your name is not Idris van Bale. And you are no common chartist captain! And before you protest again, how many chartist captains do you know with a bloody arch militant on their ship?" My words hit home and I saw a cautious look enter her eyes. "I don''t understand, My Lord", she stuck to her denial, but her demeanor had changed drastically. She wasn''t taking it as a joke or jest, nor did she take it as a wild accusation that could be dismissed. She was guarded and wound up like a spring. "There is no record in the entire Imperium of a captain, from any sector, named Idris van Bale. So do you want to tell me the truth, or should I tell it myself?" Fear had entered her eyes when I laid out what I knew, but she kept up the guise. "Lord Captain, I am afraid an error must have been made either by the scribes that sent you this information or by your people in inquiring about it. I am who I say I am." Her tone was insistent and her reasoning was solid. But I knew better. "You are Idris Machenko, directly related to the leaders of the sector house Machenko, and 19th in line to become its de facto leader. Cut the grox shit Idris, and tell me why you travel under a false name!" I laid it all out for her, and she relented. Her shoulders sagged and the defeated look that came over her made me think it was a personal choice, rather than an imposed one. The silence stretched out as I waited for her to say something, and eventually, she did. "So, you know. What are you going to do with that information?" She asked and looked me straight in the eyes. "Well, that depends on your answer, now doesn''t it?" I replied, and once more silence crept over the interior of the tent. With a sigh, she started speaking, "Very well. I could tell you it is for my protection, but that would be a lie. The great houses enjoy too much power and strength for anyone but another house to dare make a move on us, and I am too far down the line of succession for that to be a threat. The truth is, I loathe the insistence on etiquette, form, manners, and everything else that comes with the expectations of a member of a sector house. I just want to travel the galaxy, be lewd, crude, and make as much damn profit as is humanly possible. And I have gone to considerable lengths to secure the knowledge of my heritage. How did you find out?" She rambled the words when she started speaking, like a dam bursting after flood rain. She seemed relieved in her worry. "The reach of the Inquisition is far." I kept my answer vague, relying on the fact that my armor was covered in sigils from the Inquisition to convey the message. "Listen, Idris, I don''t care, and I have no use for this knowledge. My only problem here is that you lied to me. I understand your reasoning, but it is still an untrustworthy thing to do, especially when you take your reaction to our first meeting into consideration..." I allowed the words to hang in the air for a moment before I continued. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. "But it is what it is. I proved to you I can be trusted, and your actions and support here more than make up for that small mistake, since it does not affect me who you are. I just wanted you to know that it is better to not keep secrets from me. I may be a forgiving and lenient individual, but I can only forgive so many transgressions. Now, with all this behind us, I have had some thoughts on how to proceed. Since your arch militant can push further into the mountain, it should be safe to assume we still have the momentum and the advantage. Have the mutants started fielding even worse atrocities, or did I wake up before things got out of hand?" "My Lord?? Worse atrocities? Like what?" Idris asked incredulously, and I kicked myself mentally for that slip of the tongue. I glanced around quickly before I remembered that we were located within my tent, and as long as we didn''t raise our voices the guards outside should not be able to hear anything other than mumbling. "You are perceptive and quick-witted, Idris, and you just figured out I know so much more about this enemy than I am letting on. And while the regular guardsman would never question my ability to know such things, you most surely will. But I need you to understand, like I said before, that everything I do is done for the Imperium, and humanity as a whole. You are not the only one with secrets, but you are in the unfortunate position of being the lesser power, meaning I get to keep my secrets, secret. You might have the manpower advantage, but you will never be fast enough to stop my navigator from sending word of betrayal. So I suggest you forget whatever you heard me say a mere moment ago, go with the flow, and leave this whole debacle even richer than I have already made you." Idris looked at me for a long moment before she answered. "You are not like most Inquisition agents I have met, Lord Captain. All of them, without exception, would have used fear and intimidation to secure my silence. But you seek to secure it through, not bribery, but an ensuring of mutual interests being met. I do not know who you are or where you came from. But you are not of the Imperium. Not that it matters either, as you said, you work to further the goals of the Imperium, and you try to improve the conditions of the people under your command. And I have seen you in combat. You are good, but you''re also holding back like violence is something you are not accustomed to." She caught me off-guard with those statements. When did she have time to analyze things like this? My nervousness must have shone through, as she continued to speak "Relax, Lord Captain. As I told you, I only care about making as much profit as possible without angering the Imperium at large. And spilling your secrets would give me more trouble than it is worth, considering who you answer to." "We are at an impasse, then," I concluded and looked to Idris who nodded in confirmation. "So, we either rat out each other or keep silent. And of course, silence would be the most sensible option, for both of us." Once more Idris nodded in confirmation, and in silence, we both extended our hands and clasped them together. Our little conspiracy needed no words, but we both knew the implications. Death was waiting for us both if we were discovered, and that thought was ringing in my mind as she left my tent once more. There was still the blinking from the system to take care of, and I might as well do it now that I had a bit of time alone. The sicky green blinking was incessant in its insistence and I didn''t want to look at it anymore. You can leave. You can run. You can try to stave off the inevitable. But in time, decay will get to you, little one. And grandfather Nurgle is patient and generous. Touched by chaos: A chaos god has granted you a boon. Whether or not this is to your liking, you have been granted Nurgle''s blessing. A pandemic staff has manifested in your quarters on board your ship. ... ... NO! Just fucking NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO! This was not what I needed, not what I wanted. If anyone discovered that stave, it would mean a slow and extremely painful death for me. My torture would be dragged out for weeks, possibly months until whatever inquisition interrogators got a hold of me, decided I had no more value as a source of information. Even then, I would not be granted a quick death. They would extend my life, providing medical care while stripping my flesh, tearing my muscles from my bones, blinding me with red-hot glowing iron spikes, and if I was extremely lucky, I would be transformed into either an Arco-flagellant or a penitent engine, neither of which was a good prospect to end your life. Both would see me reduced to a husk of a man, so doped up on combat stimms and various concoctions that considering me human still, would be a far stretch. I would then be unleashed on the enemies of the Imperium until I died in battle, a final repentance for my sins. I had to figure something out, quickly! But I couldn''t rush ahead, like a chicken leaving the chopping block. If someone, anyone, saw that staff, then it didn''t matter who I was and what my position in the Imperium was. I had to return to my ship, but I couldn''t leave the situation on the planet as it was. But every moment that staff was unattended and unhidden on my ship, was a risk. But I couldn''t put it in a glass display like I had with the Skaven token. That would be akin to advertising that I wished to forsake the Imperium in favor of the ruinous powers. A steel coffin where it could be suspended from chain to hand down would be good. A null box would be best. But acquiring such an artifact would require enormous expenditure, or informing the Inquisition. And if I did, the discovery of a powerful chaos artifact would be enough to cast a death sentence on the entirety of the planet''s population. Not a great start to my legacy within the Imperium. Speaking of, if the Skaven tunnels stretched into nearby towns and villages, and if chaos followers were in league with the Skaven, then logic would dictate that there would be indoctrinated agents among the local population. But at least I could do something about that. I would need to summon my ship''s Confessor and some of his preachers to take troops to the villages and make sure none of the locals had been led astray. Even a single heretic, if left unchecked and unattended, could undermine all the effort I was currently committing, in a decade or two. My master vox crackled, and after I pressed the button to connect, the arch militant''s voice cut through with sporadic lasfire in the background. "Lord Captain, we have reached the outskirts of the mutant stronghold. What are your orders?" I hesitated for a moment. We could keep pushing, and risk losing a lot of lives, or we could play it smart. "Dig in, have the engineers construct defenses, and then continue improving upon them with more guns, stronger fallback positions, and more fortified trenches. We have been killing the enemy fodder so far, with only sporadic engagements of more advanced and elite units. We are in for a rough ride. I can''t give you artillery, but I can start shipping down las cannons, missile launchers, and grenade launchers." "Orders received, dig in and start showering. With respect, what pattern of missile and grenade launchers are you sending?" That struck me as an odd question until I remembered I was speaking with an arch militant. Knowing what weapons they had would dictate their strategy. And there was only one answer, the only patterns I currently had available. "Locke pattern missile launchers, and Cadian pattern grenade launchers. Not the best, not the worst. Make the best of my equipment." "Acknowledged, Lord Captain. Ave Imperator!" There was a click from the vox and I was left to my thoughts once more. But I had no time to daddle. Using the vox I called for transport to my ship, with orders for the confessor to meet me upon arrival, alongside his 50 most pious preachers, who would not mind leaving the ship for an extended period. I knew that would give me all the people I needed for the next step in reforming the leadership on this planet, an effort I had only started with no further plans. Well, there was no time like the present, and the trip to the ship gave me a little time to plan out what I wanted. When I arrived, however, I was met by a small group of people. Officer of the watch, the Twistcatcher, The Omnissianic Congregator, the ship Steward, the Purser, and of course the confessor and his preachers. The officer of the watch, a clean-cut officer with an impeccably styled mustache and perfectly fitting uniform, carrying a data slate, spoke first as soon as I stepped foot on the ship. "Lord Captain, the voidsmen are running on triple shifts, only kept standing with stimms and recaf. I need more bodies to keep the ship safe and the crew in line!" The Twistcatcher, a greasy and pale older man with a sour and suspicious expression followed suit without missing a beat, "The mutant population is hard to keep under control when I cannot requisition troops from the voidsmen to help cleanse their nests when we find them, Lord Captain!" The others kept quiet, so I could only assume it was not urgent, or even good news. Pointing at the officer of the watch, I said, "You have permission to promote workers from the trusted crewmen to full armsmen, to the extent it is required to let the troops function on high alert. But do not overdo it, or take advantage of this privilege. Dozens of men would love nothing more than an early promotion!" My orders were clear. Scrutinize new armsmen before promotion, make sure the work crews were not crippled, or suffer demotion from a station important enough to doom him to be a junior officer for life. I swung my finger to the Twistcatcher, "You. With the increase in armsmen, you should be able to handle emerging nests. Focus on prevention of growth rather than extermination until more troops are available regularly. You are both dismissed!" They bowed and left to carry out my orders, both satisfied and left wanting. The Omnissianic Congregator stepped forward and bowed deeply before the robotic voice rang out. "The mechanicus thanks you, Lord Captain. Our numbers are swelling as the planet''s criminal population declines. A masterful solution to two problems at once. I have been ordered to offer mechanicus assistance in the establishing of proper infrastructure on the planet below, within the boundaries of the Imperial decree, of course." Good news indeed, and a much better response than I had expected from the Mechanicus. Then again, I was a newly formed Rogue Trader. Having some goodwill points with me would always pay off, and I had already proven that I was able to work out satisfactory deals. They must have deemed me an asset to invest in. "I accept the Mechanicus offer for aid. You are free to start from the mountain that serves as a center of conflict and work your way outward. There are elements I need to get under control as we expand." I answered and the Omnissianic Congregator stepped back. The Purser and Steward stepped forward, "We have been working the numbers, and we believe there is a truly great amount of profit to be made. The lumber this planet has so much of can be worked into masterfully crafted furniture that the various powerful people around the Imperium would pay almost heretical amounts of to get a hold of. We suggest filling our holds with fine furniture and placing orders for more across the entire planet. We should be able to fill the hold within 2 months if we estimate correctly." I liked the idea, even though I would feel like a flying Ikea, roaming the universe for people to sell my shitty furniture to. Then again, there was a certain amount of laughter to be derived from nobles paying their weight in cut gemstones and gold, for a wooden table that had seen the loving attention of a master carpenter. And I had another idea. "Double the price if they start working immediately. With the profit we stand to make from such a small investment, we would be stupid not to buy our way to the front of the line. And with the changes being made on this planet, it might be a good idea to show people it can only be for the better." "As you will it, Lord Captain" They answered in unison and the greed glinting in their eyes as they started whispering while they walked told me they were perfect for the job. Profit above all, and they had learned not to try and steamroll me. Good. Finally, the Confessor stepped forward and I saw him draw in a breath for what I could only assume would be an impromptu sermon. Not on my watch! "I summoned you," I said as I lifted my hand to silence him, and I saw him possibly wilt with disappointment, "Because these fine preachers will have to do a very special duty. An assignment that could only be passed to the most faithful among us." I saw the fanaticism shine bright in their eyes as I spoke, " There are heretics and unbelievers on the planet below. They have infiltrated villages and most likely positions of power among the population. Your task will be concentrated on two things. First, and most important, you will root out and destroy any hint of heretical activity. Second, you will assume the positions of local administrators change in government. I need people I can trust to take control of the local settlements and keep them in line while spreading the good word of the Emperor, at least for the foreseeable future, until suitably pious men or women can be found among the local population." the Confessor looked uncertain when he spoke up, "Women? Lord Captain, we are not connected to the Sisters of Battle. What would be the point?" And while his words were true, his preachers seemed to not care about that little aspect of things, They were busy mumbling among themselves. "But it never hurts to make friends with people in powerful places, and the militant arm of the Ecclesiarchy is never a bad friend to carry some goodwill with, Confessor. If you find it alarming or out of character for me to tell you this instead of just insisting on my order, it is because you will find I am not like most Captains or people of influence in the Imperium. You have your orders, now go see to it that my will is done. Transports will be provided as well as a small contingent of troops to take care of the more... Aggressive negotiations, as well as any uprising that, as unlikely as they are, might still occur. Do not forget to consult with the Imperial regulations concerning the planet before you make landfall." I waved a hand dismissively and the group of preachers filed out of the hangar with the Confessor in front. Finally. I could focus on what brought me back here. I made my way towards my quarters using the shortest route I could dig out from memory, but it still took a while to get to the bridge, and from there, my quarters. As soon as the lift had carried me up, I could sense the staff. It felt like bugs were crawling all over my skin while the air became denser and more putrid to breathe. Then I saw it. Even if it was not standing straight up by itself, there would be no denying that this was an artifact of immense power, connected to chaos. As tall as me, engraved with ancient runes, and moldering with visible miasma of plague and entropy, it made the room feel smaller and the air stifling. I removed my cloak and used it to wrap the staff tightly. It would not do much, but it diminished its overwhelming presence and made it possible to move it without too much risk. I would have to rely on my natural resistance to combat whatever residual energies made their way to my person. But where to put it? Using the internal vox system, I put in an immediate order for a large iron box with hanging chains inside to suspend the staff in the air, until I could get my hold on a null box that was big enough. I wondered for a moment how Nurgle would react to that. Placing something in a null box was the same as taking it out of the equation forever until removed from the box. It might as well not exist in this realm when it was placed there. And I couldn''t imagine a chaos god being happy with someone detaining a magical artifact granted to them. But I would chew that food later. For now, I needed to secure this... Thing! somewhere relatively safe and out of sight of anyone who might, for some reason, enter my quarters. With the pandemic staff wrapped up tightly, and a few moments to myself, I collapsed in one of the comfortable leather chairs I had acquired from the previous governor. I suddenly remembered I had stopped with my status screen the moment I was informed of Nurgle''s shenanigans. A quick scan revealed nothing new, except a rise in XP, but that was expected on account of the fighting I had been engaged in. But not nearly enough for a level-up. I was left with my thoughts after that. I could not leave this planet as it was right now. Society would collapse, or be removed from the planet in holy fire by whomever was designated to take over as governor. I had to see this fight through to the end. If possible, I would have to find, and capture, the leader of the heretics, though catching a person that was most likely a psyker, would be difficult, to say the least. But if I succeeded, I would have secured my place as rogue trader, in the eyes of the Inquisition. It would also give me the ability to roam without oversight if I was right. After all, how could a militant trader that hunts heretics, be unsafe to let loose on the universe? If I played my cards right in the near future, then it would be looking bright indeed. Not just for me, but for this planet, and the people currently serving on my ship. It was time to ramp up the war effort on the planet down below and look for opportunities to either rid myself of this cursed staff or lock it up inside a null box. Chapter 35: Shadow work. It took a few hours, but finally, the box was delivered to the bridge, and I had them place it in the lift before sending it up. It was a common iron box, but it would do well enough to secure the pandemic staff, at least until I could figure out how to frame the Skaven for its existence. It shouldn''t be too hard, seeing as there were already chaos cultists involved with them. The trick was just finding a way to get it into the Skaven undercity without anyone making the connection of me being the one who brought it along. But that could be fixed as well. I would just need a few troops that were destined for death anyway. I may hold extreme power, but I simply refuse to compromise my humanity by condemning honest Imperial soldiers to death for the sake of my scheming. That would be a slippery slope to becoming like the despotic Lords of the Imperium. With the staff placed safely in the iron box, I sent word to the Mechanicus on board. I needed a few servitors to carry the iron box. I didn''t want to risk my Ogryns or guardsmen. Servitors were lobotomized anyway, if they got infected with chaos, they would receive a merciful bullet to the brain, ending their tormented existence. Considering the free reign they had gotten over the prison population, they were more than willing to accommodate me, and soon enough the guards on the bridge reported that the servitors had arrived. They came up with the lift, and I was shocked when I saw them up close. I had seen servitors in the distance before, but never this close. If you looked hard enough, you could see the still-working sentience beneath the lobotomization and cybernetic augmentation. A life being unable to control yourself until you break down, are forgotten doing a menial task or die. I shook myself out of my dark thoughts and ordered them to carry the box to the hangar. I may not have any drop pods, but I could still load them into one of the larger crates that were used to supply the troops down below. While they struggled with the box, I voxed the quartermaster and demanded he makes a generous supply of amasec ready for the soldiers below. He grumbled and explained and excused himself, but in the end, my will was done and several thousand bottles were prepared to be shipped down. When I arrived ahead of the servitors, I found crate after crate being lined up and made ready to be loaded onto the transport designated to carry them down. The small army of workers The quartermaster was standing there as well, a scowl adorning his face and an air of frustration about him. No doubt he had planned to dip into the supplies himself, but it shouldn''t surprise me, nor did I intend to do anything about it. There had to be a few advantages to holding higher offie, and if the worst was a bottle of amasec going missing every once in a while, I considered myself lucky. "Lord Captain, to safeguard some of the reserves, I have added several crates of Wobble instead of the requested amasec. I have also added a generous supply of Ploin juice to help keep up the morale and health of the troops." His tone was apologetic and his demeanor was resigned, rather than convincing, so I chose to believe him. "Just as well, the troops care less about the name of the drink and more about the effect of it. The Ploin juice was a good idea, consider me pleased with the initiative." I said and went about inspecting the still open crates, but I did notice the look of pleased relief on the quartermaster''s face. I picked out a crate of each drink and ordered them marked and set aside. The quartermaster did inquire about the crates set aside, but a single glance made him bow his head in submission. I was not about to be asked about my business by my crew. The servitors arrived carrying the iron box, and I directed them to load it along with the 3 marked crates before the regular work crew was allowed to fill up the transport with the rest of the goods. It took almost an hour, but when the work was done, we left almost immediately, only suffering a minor delay from a vox drone carrying a message for me. It turned out to be from Idris and only contained 2 words. A single name, of the lord at the head of the resistance to my reforms. I had to find her when we got back down, but first I had to deliver the entertainment to the soldiers. They had been dutiful and worked hard without complaint or defection, and I felt like a small token of appreciation was in order. There was also the fact that I was pitting them against an enemy unknown to the Imperium, alongside the normal heretics, but Nurgle worshippers were always tricky. The smallest cut of their blades usually meant infection bad enough to warrant amputation, and the diseases that followed in their wake would have brought a medieval army to their knees in a matter of a few weeks. Fortunately for me, I had more advanced technology, medical care, and juice that gave much-needed essential vitamins and minerals to the troops. Yes, there were both wounded and fallen among my troops as well, but the Skaven to Gurdsman exchange ratio was disgustingly and horrendously overwhelming. As it currently stood, I lost 1 guardsman for every 3000 Skaven killed, on average. At least according to my ships analysts. Now that we had dug in at the outskirts of the undercity, those numbers would see a rapid increase in our favor, s we could perform fast attack raids and immediately withdraw to our defensive lines and let the heavy gun emplacements do the work. When we landed the transporter, I broke all regulations and touched down right in front of the entrance to the mountain, much to the annoyance of the various officers tasked with outside security. Still, as soon as they understood my reason for doing so, they were more than pleased to order the troops to unload the crates. A few were set aside for the troops outside, but since the majority of soldiers were either engaged inside the mountain or resting up inside the mountain, the long walk with a heavy burden began. The soldiers bore it well though, they had heard what was inside though they didn''t understand the purpose of bringing such vast amounts to the surface, but they had a good idea of what I intended. Idris showed up quickly when we reached the large cavern we used for a main base, the procession of soldiers carrying crates attracting much attention when everything was piled into a newly constructed large wooden shed that was used to store important supplies. I called it a shed though it was more akin to a small house in size, but this was the Imperium we were talking about. Idris came up to me with as much hastened dignity as she could muster. "Lord Captain, what is this? We have already received the heavy weapons you sent down." She asked when came close enough, but I raised a hand to silence her question. "Gather the troops. Everyone is not currently on active duty. And get me the highest-ranking Ecclesiarchy representative currently available on your ships. I want them to lead a mass prayer before I bestow gifts upon the fighting men and women of the Imperium. Those under your charge included." I said and she looked at me like I had lost my mind but she walked off to get things done. It would take a little while to set up, and as soon as the shed was locked and the crates secured, I walked briskly toward the tunnel leading to the Undercity. Her arch militant had gone all out, opting for blockhouses that blocked off the tunnel every 200 meters, made from thick wooden logs that would require serious efforts to remove, and small doors opening outward to prevent an easy break-in point from occurring. Simple security in the design itself. I counted 7 blockhouses on the way to the drawn-up frontline and I happily admit that I started to feel like we had the situation under some sort of control. For the first time in a long time, I was no longer running from small fire to small fire, trying to extinguish it in the hopes of staying on top of the problems. But I had gone about this all wrong, which was the reason I was as strung out as I was. I had subordinates for a reason, and I had to use them if I was to stay effective as the focal point. It would also give me time to look for a way home, other than running around and getting tangled up in whatever happened across my path. I could still join the frontline, mostly out of selfish reasons to level up, but also because it was expected of me, as a trader militant. I didn''t want a reputation as a lazy lord who sat around in seclusion and debauchery. At the last blockhouse, I found the arch-militant reloading a freshly mounted autocannon on the parapet overlooking the beginning of the Skaven Undercity. I spotted the occasional Skaven peeking out from around corners and windows in the far distance, but nothing that warranted opening fire. "Lord Captain, we stand ready to begin probing attacks and skirmish assaults." The arch-militant presented the Aquila with the status report, but I waved it off. "Later. For now, man the defenses 3 blockhouses back, double-check that all side tunnels are securely walled off, and then return to base. We have been negligent in our prayers and we must rectify this oversight. I also wish to address the troops, and this will provide a fine opportunity. Let''s hurry, we are on a schedule to show the enemy the might of the people of the Imperium!" I said, turned, and started walking back. I admit, it was a long walk just to deliver this message, but doing so in person would send a message that I cared enough about the troops to make sure the right orders were given, and it would give the arch-militant some time to ponder my choice of words, which no doubt would reach Idris sooner rather than later. I might not be from this universe, but I was not naive enough to think that strange things, like me mentioning the people of the Imperium instead of the might, would not be recorded and delivered to people in power. My every word was being analyzed by people working in the shadows, trying to determine what kind of character I possessed to best manipulate me into doing their bidding. Let them try, I didn''t care. I had no horse in whatever race the nobles of the Imperium were currently engaged in. I had my own agenda and I was sticking to it. The trip back was uneventful, except for the trickle of soldiers who started following me as my orders were passed around. I could hear the mumbling among them, but they knew me as a Lord Captain who did not distribute death on a whim, so the tone was light and cheerful. We were fighting an enemy that had little to no chance of winning the battle, as long as we kept our distance and had decent aim. I arrived back with a trickle of troops behind me, and Idris had not wasted time in my absence. A small platform had been raised for the preacher to stand on during the prayer and a large area near the entrance to the cavern had been filled with benches and tables for the troops to use later. A small army of preachers, confessors, firebrands, and lesser Ecclesiarchy representatives stood gathered around a Cardinal, and the sight of such a figure made me ponder just how many people Idris had in her fleet to warrant the presence of a Cardinal. They usually resided over planets, maintaining the Imperial faith and ensuring their position through diligent politicking. If she had such a high-ranking Ecclesiarchy member on her ship, she was either more powerful, more well-connected, or far richer, than she had initially led. An arch decaon peeled off from the group the moment I came close, and made a line straight for me. When he got close, I saw the look of disdain in his eyes as the Inquisitorial insignias on my armor became visible, but he masked it well. Everyone knew there was no love lost between the Ecclesiarchy and the Inquisition, but I was adamant about not adding to the grief unless I was given reason to. But an arch-deacon was trouble. they managed the finances of the Ecclesiarchy, as well as the logistics, and I could not for the life of me imagine a good reason for him to seek me out unless he was getting greedy. "Lord Captain." He said as he stepped up to me and bowed deep. "May I have a moment of your time?" "Speak quickly, arch-deacon, I have matters that require attending," I replied, doing my very best to let my tone of voice tell him I had no interest in this conversation. "very well, I have been in contact with your ship''s purser, regarding the costs of this little venture." He didn''t get any further, as his words infuriated me. "LITTLE VENTURE?!!? We are at war, arch-deacon, against the enemies of the Imperium! Protecting the people of this planet against an enemy that would sooner eat them than enslave them, and you want to count beans and weigh costs? NO COST IS TOO GREAT WHEN THE GOAL IS SAFEGUARDING THE IMPERIUM! Just because you are not making a profit, you want to abandon these people to their fate? I expected so much more from the supposed guardians of Imperial faith! Leave my sight this instant!!" I spat, growled, and yelled my words at him, and while I admit to using him as an outlet for pent-up frustration, there was a great deal of merit to my words. If his analysis said we should abandon the campaign because it did not yield a net profit, this planet WOULD fall. And as it was under my protection at the moment, this was simply not a possibility, not while I had the means and the manpower to change it. I looked around and realized that my interaction with the arch-deacon had drawn in a lot of attention, and now that it was over, everyone was busy making it look like they were not listening intently a mere moment ago. No matter, it''s not like I said anything that could get me in trouble. If anything, this should improve my reputation among the common soldiers. I approached the mob of ecclesiarchy representatives and the Cardinal waved away the nearest of his followers to give me room to approach. "Ave Imperator, Cardinal. Thank you for taking the time to come help out on this forsaken planet." I said as I presented the Aquila and made the smallest of bows in his direction. He responded with mumbling a blessing of the Emperor and a new blink appeared in my view before he extended his hand in the direction of the cavern that was now bustling with activity from the soldiers returning and gathering. "I was delighted to hear your request to administer to these soldiers of the Imperium. We worried that your ties to the Inquisition would make you less.. inclined, to see the wisdom in spreading the knowledge and wisdom of the holy God-Emperor. For once, I can truthfully say I am happy to have been proven wrong. I also understand you have encountered traitors among the mutants?" His voice was a hoarse croak, every bit as ancient as the eyes that nonetheless stared directly into my soul. "We have encountered heretics and apostates, and have dealt with them in the only way that makes sense. By granting them the Emperor peace and burning the bodies. I would be most appreciative if your followers could sanctify the burn sites to soothe the poor souls forced to deal with this task. But before we get to all that, the podium is yours whenever you wish to begin." I gestured to the raised platform, and with a slightly regal nod, the Cardinal slowly strode toward the podium, his followers rushing ahead to get the guardsmen to show proper respect for such an elevated figure of authority. I found a nice rock to settle down on where I could watch the show from behind. I wanted a good view of the crowd as well as the Cardinal, as this was going to take quite a while and It would give me time to figure out what had happened when the Cardinal mumbled a blessing over me. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. As he intoned the initial prayers and the soldiers that had gathered in the cavern settled down in the familiar ritual, I opened my status screen. The blinking was golden, elegant, and pure, and when I opened the notification, I almost fell from my seat in shock. Achievements unlocked: Mass prayer. You have organized a mass prayer for the troops under your command. +100xp. Diplomatic finesse: You tactfully extended an olive branch to a rival faction within the Imperium. +150xp. ABILITY SYNERGY ACHIEVED: Your prayer of absolution has been replaced with aura of exoneration. Being personally blessed by a high-ranking member of the Ecclesiarchy is an honor reserved for the few. How you managed to achive this, is beyond even the gods understanding. Aura of Exoneration: Passive ability, always active. Any Imperial within a 50 ft radius feels the presence of the Emperor closer and more clearly, steeling their resolve and will to push beyond the limitations of their flesh. Allies receive excellent morale and endurance bonuses when in your close vicinity. Synergy ability acquired. Opening new possible career paths. Wait, what? New career path?? But I already had a class and a career so what was all this about? And how would it work against me next time I came close to a sanctioned psyker? I felt no different, so I guessed it only affected those around me. A shame, I could use some of the inner calm and sense of purpose for myself. Not much else had changed on my status screen, but I didn''t care. I was busy wondering about synergy abilities. So it took an already existing ability, paired it with something I would be about to receive, and turned it into something else. It had half the range, but the effect was now passive and constant. Which, in theory, should make any troops near me pretty damn resilient to morale damage. A rare sight in the Imperium, if you didn''t count specialized guardsman regiments like the Kriegers or the Steel Legion. Who knows, I might even be able to create a new renowned regiment with time, if I keep getting skills that bolster those around me. But then again, how much could I dedicate myself to searching for a way home, if my strength was those around me, instead of myself? There was also the coming attack to think about. If my orders were followed, it would be a slow assault. Grenades and las cannon fire would rain down on Skaven before we set fire to the city. Parts of it would be burned down, the Skaven would prevent it from spreading too far, rinse, and repeat. My only worry was the Skaven themselves. What tricks were they holding back?? Stormfiends, plague monks, heretic berserkers, more grey seers, the possibilities were endless. And my troops would be hungover, but that was not much of a concern, they would still be able to shoot straight... Or at least, straight enough to do their job. I continued dwelling on the mysteries that were the system while the Cardinal continued his rites for what felt like hours. When he finally finished up with a communal prayer, which I made sure to take part in, he made a small gesture behind him to signal me that the podium was mine. As I stepped up, a hush fell over the crowd. They knew my appearance and my general mood, but few of these men and women of the Imperium had heard me speak, if I was not issuing orders. I cleared my throat before I raised my voice as much as possible without yelling. "Soldiers. Men and women in the service of the Imperium. I stand before you now to inform you that I am content. You have done your duty, and done it well, but the biggest task lies ahead of us. Tomorrow, we begin our assault on the mutant city inside this cursed mountain with the intent of purging the unclean, the heretical, and the mutated that reside in that filthy imitation of true civilization!" This was followed by a roar of approval from the soldiers and I had to raise a hand to quiet down the masses. "But before we get to do our job, there is something I must do!" A mix of anticipation and fear spread among the ranks. Anticipation of what I would say next, and fear that it might be bad news. "I must provide a token of gratitude to all of you. You, the soldiers of the Imperium, that safeguard its worlds and people. You, that embody the spirit and tenacity that has seen the Imperium stand strong for the past 10.000 years! You, that gladly kill the enemies of humanity so that we all may sleep a little safer!" A small gesture made a couple of troopers haul a crate to the podium and hand me a prybar, which I used to crack open the lid and pick up a bottle of amasec. "Which is why I have orders enough amasec to be sent down here for all of you! Consider it my gift to you, my way of thanking you for the sacrifices I demand to be made in the Imperiums name! Consider yourselves relieved of duty until tomorrow morning." The joyous roar that filled the cavern made the ceiling and walls shake, and my ears hurt. But it was worth it because wherever I looked I saw adoration bordering on worship in the eyes of every soldier present. A gesture like this was not just unheard of, it was unprecedented. And being relieved of duty meant they could get as drunk as possible, without fear of punishment for shirking their duties. This would be a story they would tell for many years in the future. "Now go have fun, get drunk and live! Just make sure there is no trouble tonight, I will not tolerate anyone tarnishing the festivities with fighting or anything else that might ruin the fun!" I finished my impromptu speech and selected soldiers started carrying crates out among the troops. Guards had been summoned from the ships to take over the duties of those who would otherwise be forced to miss the party, which I would not allow, and even the Ecclesiarchy members looked happily surprised at my action. "An interesting way to instill morale. Effective though." The Cardinal said to me as I stepped off the podium, still holding the bottle. I handed it to the Cardinal who looked it over for a moment before smiling wide. "This is a good vintage. Not the finest, but most certainly not cheap swill either. It must have cost a fortune to supply this to the troops." I shrugged, "What good is a boosted economy if you are not going to use it? My job is not to hoard wealth but to explore and safeguard the Imperium, and I can only do that if the people under my command give their best. This is a simple but effective way of ensuring that. And if I''m being completely honest, it all belonged to the late planetary governor before I was appointed to take his position." My reveal made the Cardinal chuckle dryly. "I can imagine it being a special kind of satisfying to make your people love you, at the expense of another. A rogue trader through and through." The cardinal was now full-on laughing as he spoke, "Also, allow me to thank you for this wonderful opportunity to strengthen the faith of the soldiers. They shall surely be victorious with the Emperor''s blessing." I bowed slightly at his words and he turned, signaled his entourage, and started making his way out of the cavern. He had not said it, but he was immensely pleased that he could report back to the Ecclesiarchy, that the Inquisitions'' new rogue trader was both pious and open to the idea of working with the Ecclesiarchy. All in all, this had been a very successful afternoon. Now I just had to wait until the troops were good and drunk, and I could figure out a spot to put the iron box with that thrice-damned pandemic staff. With a little bit of luck, the soldiers would find it tomorrow and report it, giving me the perfect excuse to report my ''finding'' to the Inquisition and score a few goodwill points for recovering a powerful chaos artifact. I just had to keep an eye on the marked box and wait. Idris soon showed up next to me with a bottle of amasec in each hand. She was already showing signs of enjoying this break of military discipline to the fullest extent, but it was fine, I couldn''t blame her for having some fun. She threw herself down next to me and thrust one of the bottles in my face. "You aren''t getting away with sitting here and plotting as you usually do, Lord Captain," She said with a slight slur as she dangled the bottle in front of me and I couldn''t help but crack a smile and take it. "So, what are you brooding over this time?" She continued as she took another swig of the bottle with a happy and relaxed expression. "Nothing specific, just trying to sort out everything. The boring side of being a somewhat responsible rogue trader. Don''t worry about me, I will make sure to relax tonight." I said while pulling the cork out of the bottle with my teeth and spitting it to the ground. "You don''t make sure you have a way of closing the bottle again?" Idris''s eyes wandered over the crowd as she spoke, musical instruments being played, cards and dice games with small amounts of Imperial Thrones changing hands rapidly. I saw no reason to punish human behavior and it helped keep morale up. A stray thought made me ponder capitalizing on it and creating a ship-run casino, allowing me to win back the pay my crew worked so hard for. "Does it have anything to do with those marked boxes your Ogryns are watching over like they expect your troops to steal from you?" She had a coy smile on her lips and the look in her eyes was challenging. "Leave it be Idris, the less you know, the less attention you can attract." I stared her down as if answered with a voice as cold as the air on the planet where my adventure started. "A shame. I like playing with fire, despite wanting to make a profit. What good is life without a little excitement?" She continued and sat upright. "Safe and anonymous." I deadpanned and the silence drew out for a few seconds before she engaged in random and mindless small talk to ease the tension. It worked, and we ended up relaxing and talking for the next few hours as we worked our way through a bottle of amasec. I didn''t want to get drunk, and the night was long before the soldiers would get tired for at least a few more hours. The time passed in relative peace, any trouble was quickly squashed by the squad leaders who seemed extremely intent on making this night a proper good one without fighting or trouble. Eventually, the alcohol did its work and people got sleepy, Idris included who also sensed my desire to keep this secret my own and left me to my own devices. When the only people still awake were the roaming sentries, I made my way over to the 3 Ogryns guarding the crate holding the iron box and quietly instructed them to extract said iron box. As quietly as 3 large abhumans and a man wearing carapace armor could, we made our way toward the main tunnel leading into the mountain. I couldn''t move too far down unless I wanted to risk being spotted by the blockhouses that had been constructed, but there were still several small side tunnels that had been blocked off a dozen or so meters down. It wouldn''t be too much trouble to drop it off in one of those and pile some rubble over it. Then it was just a matter of time until it was discovered. We slipped into a side tunnel, planted and camouflaged the box so it looked like it was uncovered by the explosions that had collapsed the tunnel, and were making our way back when I thought I heard something. Signaling the Ogryns to stop, I listened intently, closing my eyes to force my brain to rely on senses other than sight. ... There it was¡ªfaint scratching. I should have expected it, the Skaven would either try to clear an existing way or make a new way, to try and flank us. A brave, but futile effort, the design of the blockhouse meant that it worked equally well in both directions. And if they broke in behind the last one, they would be facing the anger of every hungover and pissed-off Imperial guardsman and voidsman under my command. Good thing I scheduled the attack for tomorrow. Now freed from my damning burden, I allowed myself to stride down the corridors with my Ogryns following closely behind. They would not speak of what had happened here if they even understood it, but I could sense their agitation. They were not used to downtime like this and they deeply desired to serve the Emperor the best way they knew how. By smashing everything over the head that didn''t love the Emperor, like the Skaven and especially the heretics we now faced. They seemed to carry a deeper-than-normal hatred for those who had cast their Imperial faith aside in favor of heretical inclinations, and it showed whenever they heard regular troops speak of whatever crazed fanatic had stormed the barricades in the most recent attempt to wear down my troops, their furrowed brows and cracking knuckles spoke their own language of desired malice and pain. I made it back to my seat, poured another bottle of amasec out onto the ground and added it to the 2 empty already on the ground, and sealed the crate back up, after which I took a seat and fell asleep, leaned against the crate. I was woken several hours later by a scarred veteran soldier who did his best attempt at a respectful nudging of my foot. "Lord Captain," He said the moment my eyes fluttered open. "The troops have found... Something, that requires your immediate attention." He stood at attention and made it very obvious he had no intention of moving unless I accompanied him. So I got up, dusted myself off a little, and made ready to follow the soldier. I wasn''t surprised when he led me to the main tunnel and I could see a large gathering of soldiers near the side tunnel where I had left the iron box, and both combat medics and a few Field Chirurgeons were gathered around a stretcher on the ground. A horribly diseased limb was burning alongside the furthest wall and a natural perimeter of a few meters had formed around the entrance to the side tunnel. "Lord Captain, this trooper found and touched the staff contained within an iron box within the tunnel. His arm started becoming rapidly diseased, so emergency amputation was performed and holy fire was applied to the offending limb. Since then, no one has dared touch it." A Field Chirurgeon ran up to me and reported as soon as we got close, and I couldn''t help but feel a sense of guilt at the sight of the now one-armed soldier. "Summon my navigator, post haste!" I barked at the veteran who led me here and he ran off, "Make him comfortable, do what you can for him, and observe him for the next 2 days. If his condition remains unchanged, release him after giving him a standard replacement limb. Hopefully, this will be a valuable lesson to him." I ordered the Field Chirurgeon and turned to the gathered soldiers. "Don''t you all have things that need doing?" I asked out loud and they went from mulling around to a blur of frenzied movement in their eagerness to make themselves scarce. Then all that was left was to wait for Farsyn. It took him almost an hour to arrive, but arrive he did and he didn''t even need to get close to the side tunnel to know what was going on. "I need the Inquisition here, Farsyn. We have discovered an artifact of chaos and will need to take steps to ensure it does not fall into enemy hands. Make sure they understand the urgency of my request, as I cannot wage war effectively in the Imperium''s name if I have to worry about dark artifacts in my possession. I NEED someone to come to take it off my hands and I need it quick." I urged of the navigator and he seemed to agree. "I would have summoned them regardless of your orders, once I felt this foul presence, but I am happy that we share the need for urgency, Lord." Farsyn was staring at the staff without blinking as he spoke, and I wondered for a moment if he was being tempted, but he changed his gaze and shook himself as if shaking off a bad feeling and turned on his heel to return to the ship. A man of few words indeed, but he would convey my message with all the urgency it needed to summon the closest Inquisition ship, no matter their current mission. Recovering chaos artifacts was no small thing and we needed to secure the area. I posted guards with orders to keep the box under constant supervision until ordered differently by me personally and went through the collection of blockhouses toward the front. It would not do to be sitting in safety when the Inquisition showed up, and the frontline was the one place that would put any investigating agent at ease, knowing I was too busy fighting to be plotting. It was time to start the assault on the Undercity. Chapter 36. No plan survives contact with the enemy. I quickly gathered up the 3 Ogryns, they were busy making themselves familiar with some improvised slab shields they had been provided. While only made of wood, they would stop most of the ranged attacks the Skaven could throw at us, except Jezzail sniper fire and the like. Small gates in their own right, they would provide all the cover we could want when it came time to advance. The weapons had arrived along with last night''s booze and squads were being outfitted with rocket and grenade launchers. We did not have any flamers, but every guardsman worth his armor and weapon were more than familiar with Molotov cocktails, so it would not be an issue to start fires in the Undercity. It would still be some time before anyone would arrive to deal with the Pandemic Staff, so I might as well make some proper progress on the campaign. With the Ogryns in tow and a random squad I picked out on the way serving as my personal guard, I turned my attention to the enemy on the other side of the blockhouses. I made my way to the barricades that at this point would be more akin to a small fortress placed at the entrance of the enormous, endless cavern that functioned as an expanding area for the Skaven city to build and grow, their reason for preparing an attack on the Imperium being a lack of access to food rather than a lack of space. They could always dig out more of the mountain, or further down even. The arch-militant were at the front to greet me, already lobbing a mix of incendiary and explosive grenades into the outskirts of the city. By itself, it didn''t do much beyond drawing the ire of the Skaven, but we were too far away and too well protected to be worth the effort of firing arrows at us. They had also quickly learned the effective range of our guns and stayed well outside of range whenever possible. "Greetings, Lord Captain. Just a friendly bit of morning shelling to start the day." He said between reloads and grinned at the grimace running across the hungover guardsmen''s faces whenever he fired the launcher. "Are we ready to begin attacking in earnest?" It was a meaningless question that I already knew the answer to, but formality dictated that I ask it anyway. "Just waiting for the order, Lord Captain." Came the expected reply and I was handed a vox caster connected to every deployed squad inside of the mountain. "Commence attack. Shake the mountain to its core." I ordered and heard the words repeated at a slight delay from the nearby vox that was installed in the barricades. 3 seconds later I heard the first explosions echo back to us, and a small shudder ran through the gathered soldiers. The battle had been joined and a proper frontline had been drawn, now they could start doing what they did best, grind down the enemy through attrition. A series of small thumps sounded out nearby and a wall of flame rose on the outside of the Skaven city, causing the mutated rats to panic. They clawed at each other in their effort to escape the fiery hell approaching them fast, killing anything in front of them while kicking down anything behind them. The few that started a firefighting effort were quickly swept up in the mess, engaged in isolated fights with the fleeing and panicked victims of our opening salvo. Now to keep it up until our weapons could no longer reach the city effectively. Move forward, rinse, repeat, victory. Provided the bloody Skaven didn''t get creative, which unfortunately was a genuine possibility, especially once they got backed up into a corner. They preferred fleeing and hiding, but if you forced them to fight, you got what you asked for. Surprisingly adept once their life was on the line, many people had found themselves beaten by a smarter or more aggressive Skaven with no options left but to go through you. The screeching from the outskirts of the Undercity reached us, telling its own story of destruction and death. Good, I was getting tired of having to deal with the overgrown rats anyway, tired of wondering what they might be holding in reserve. This would force their hand, and they would throw everything they had at me in an attempt to break through and gain some breathing room. They wouldn''t succeed, the weakest point in the enclosed perimeter surrounding them, was the now advancing frontline with tens of thousands of troops waiting to engage the enemy. The rest of the Skaven exits had been continuously reinforced since we first landed on the planet, a process that was still ongoing. At this point, I was receiving reports of plans for solid metal gates being crafted to create permanent exits to the mountain that could be locked down at a minute''s notice, with small forts being constructed around the gate for the specific purpose of containing anything that might exit the mountain, even after the campaign is over, as well as serve as training grounds for the more tedious tasks of a PDF trooper, such as standing guard and passing the time while ''on duty''. True, it was still a medieval world by Imperial decree, but it was a good plan for the future and one that I personally approved of, so as soon as I had given it my okay as the planetary governor, the Mechanicus got to work and to avoid the decree of no technology, they enforced a strict curfew and worked at night. This did cause some minor issues with the furniture orders I had placed, but I could live with a few delays as long as there was an enemy to fight, justifying the delay. Nothing spectacular happened the first day, our bombardment continued and we cleared a good few hundred meters of ramshackle Skaven city outskirts. In the grand scheme of things it was less than nothing, but it was a good and uninterrupted start. The men''s morale would benefit greatly from the lack of troubles during the initial attack, a much-changed routine compared to the standard battle awaiting regular guardsmen. In their minds, this shaped the way this little war would play out regularly, and them having the advantage was a welcome change indeed. The second day started much the same way, except the Skaven seemed to have caught on to our plan of attack because they seemed to have an endless supply of water ready to attack any fires with and we made progress even slower than the first day, but progress nonetheless. I was busy listening to the master vox at the frontline when deep ringing started reverberating through the mountain. Rhythmic and monotenous in tone, it plucked at a string of unease within me and I saw the same unease spread across the faces of the men around me with every toll of the bell. I knew of only one thing the Skaven could use to achieve such an effect. A Screaming Bell. "MAN THE BARRICADES! PREPARE FOR AN ATTACK!" I yelled out as loud as I could before remembering I was sitting in front of the master vox. "All units, this is your Lord Captain speaking. Man the barricades and steel yourselves for an immediate attack." I sent the message out as quickly as I could before I reached down and drew my stub cannon as I stood up and moved to look out through a small porthole. sure enough, there was a mass of movement in the distance, growing larger by the second. I thought I could see some sort of construction among them, most likely the bell, but it was too far away and too obscured. At least I could hear dozens of boots running from behind us, meaning that my orders were being adhered to with as much speed as the men could muster. Seconds later the large autoguns opened fire, not caring too much about accuracy when packed ranks approached like that. But this was different than the previous skirmishes and probing attacks. The first deaths among the Skaven mob only seemed to spur the frenzy to a higher pitch, forcing them to pick up speed. It had to be the bell, the foul magic of the Skaven working through the constant toiling. It wouldn''t do to attack the bell itself, the warp energies running through it making it impervious to most damage, but the Rat ogre that was ringing it would be a different story. I could only hope they brought it close enough for us to take out the bell ringer, but I doubted that would happen. You could say a lot about the Skaven, but the bastards were not stupid despite what everyone else might think. "I fucking hate those furry bastards!" I mumbled and I heard chuckling from the nearest guardsmen. I put into words what they were all thinking but didn''t dare say out of fear that someone might mistake it for cowardice or unwillingness to fight. Lasfire opened up to bolster the autoguns, but it did little good, the brown wave was approaching fast, much faster than I liked. I thought I heard the faint clicking of metal revving up but I didn''t have time to think about what it could mean before a hailstorm of warpstone bullets slammed into the fortifications around us at an astonishing speed. I dove for cover, away from the porthole. The barrage lasted for 5 full seconds before there was a break, allowing us to start firing our weapons again. I could hear cries of "WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?" and "FIND THE XENO SCUM RESPONSIBLE FOR THAT!" from the guardsmen manning the small fortress facing the Skaven city. Great, they brought Ratling Gunners. If they had Ratling Gunners, they had both the means and the wealth to also field Stormfiends, which would make our lives a living hell, should they hold them back until we were forced to abandon our nice and cozy fortifications to raze the Undercity. Which those damnable grey seers would do without a doubt. A skaven would always, always, capitalize on an advantage, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant. "KEEP FIRING! WE HAVE AT LEAST A MINUTE BEFORE THEY CAN RELOAD!" I yelled, hoping the soldiers around me would not question where I had this knowledge from but just accept it as fact and get back to firing their weapons. In truth, a ratling gunner team took almost 2 minutes to reload their weapon, but I was not taking chances. I had already lost men to the first barrage, their corpses were still writhing with a vile, pulsating green energy. I saw a soldier reach out to grab something from one of them and I kicked out and hit his hand before he could make physical contact. "DON''T TOUCH THE DEAD!" I roared as the corpse began mutating rapidly where the warpstone bullets had hit, twisting and expanding the flesh in a sickening display. Without prompt, some of the troops started blowing holes in their dead comrades with their lasguns until the mutation stopped. Just as well, it would not do to have mutants run amok in our fortifications. The autoguns came under fire from jezzail snipers hiding far behind the approaching horde, which seemed far better equipped now that it had gotten close enough to distinguish the individual Skaven. Proper clothing, triangular shields, well-made spears, a torrent of round and polished stones from trained slingers, frenzied packmasters driving hordes of mutated creatures in front of them, even a few rat ogres with newly fashioned armor plating that still had the shine of freshly produced steel. This meant that they either had far better connections among the planet''s population than anticipated or that the cultists had set up a forging operation within the mountain, either of which would suggest that this problem has been growing for far longer than I cared to think about. It would also mean an accusation against my character when the Inquisition showed up, but I could dismiss that easily enough with the Imperial records. What it meant for the family bloodline of the former governor, however... I was ripped out of my thoughts as a massive boulder crashed against the fortifications, caving in some of the portholes and leaving the wall a weakened mess of splintered wood. It would be easy for the rat ogres to hammer their way through once they reached the walls. "GRENADE LAUNCHERS, FIRE!" Was called out from somewhere and several *thumbs* quickly followed, falling into a steady rhythm after the first few rounds went off. It would not stop the attack, but it would slow the attacking troops and force them to scatter right before the final stretch of ground, taking away their collective momentum. With a bit of luck, it would stall the attack long enough to prepare for a tactical retreat to the next blockhouse. A soldier ran in front of me to get his gun to a porthole, but I grabbed his arm and had to hold him up as the sudden stop almost made him fall over. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. "Grab a few men and start moving supplies to the next blockhouse! I want these fortifications emptied before the mutants break through the wall!" I hissed and shoved him toward the storage area in the back. It would take them a few minutes to get rid of everything the enemy might make use of, but the less equipment I gave the Skaven to experiment with, the less trouble I would have with newly fashioned and unstable weaponry. I risked another glance out over the Skaven undercity, and my heart sank. The horizon had become blurry and moving as the cultists had joined the Skaven assault. And however many numbers I thought they had behind them were put to shame. Thousands upon thousands of raving mad lunatics, covered in dirt, and grime, and painted with the symbol of chaos undivided in blood, swinging improvised weaponry that focused more on inflicting pain than killing, all while screaming incoherently, were bearing down on us. The effect was a rolling wall of sound that impacted my troops and filled them with a sense of dread and foreboding. I could see the effect roll over the fortifications, the troops started fumbling with their weapons, they dropped charge packs before they reloaded, and their aim became unsteady. That''s when the Skaven''s damnable bell started ringing with amplified effort, sending shockwaves through the air, each of them hitting us like a physical punch in the gut. One that left you drained of all positive emotions and a sense of hope. I couldn''t have that, not when they were attacking like this. If the defenses failed, they would roll through the mountain and into the world beyond, unimpeded and lusting for destruction. I took up a position in the center of the blockhouse where my now passive ability could do the most, and I saw those within the influence steady their hands and regain the steel in their eyes. Great, I had to stay close to the frontline for as long as that bell kept tolling or my men would hesitate and falter. Just what I needed. I saw a whisp of green among the enemy troops and tried focusing on it. There, in all its evil glory, was the cart that carried the bell. Behind it stood 2 rat ogres who worked together to swing a large piece of wood with a head of warpstone into the bell, which was bathed in a sickly green light while warpfire engulfed the entire thing. Every impact of the improvised hammer resulted in a shower of green sparks, clouds of warpstone dust, and visible shockwaves of unholy energy spreading in every direction. The grey seer situated on top of the entire contraption was cackling with maniacal glee while huffing the clouds of warpstone dust around him, the psychic energy streaming off of his body as he poured every ounce of his formidable power into the Screaming Bell. "GET SOME ROCKETS ON THAT THING!" I commanded and not 5 seconds later 3 frak missiles screamed through the air. They never made impact though, a mixture of warp lightning and a psychic forcefield stopped them in their tracks, but I did see him buckle under the strain of keeping the power of a modern missile at bay with his forcefield. It would not take many to get rid of the grey seer or the bell, provided we could secure enough breathing room for the rockets to take proper aim and fire in tandem. Of course, we could also try to ride out the attack, hoping we could stay awake longer than the Skaven could frenzy. I discarded the idea as fast as I got it, with a screaming bell the Skaven would frenzy until all life was destroyed or subjugated and they could claim the planet. We were stuck in it now, victory or death were the only options left to us. A roar followed by the crashing sound of splintering wood and the fortifications shaking violently broke me out my pondering as someone yelled "THE BIG ONES STARTED THROWING ROCKS!". Another mighty crash shook the fortifications and I made a fateful choice. I hurried over to the arch-militant who was sending grenades into the incoming flood of fur with practiced ease. "Place explosive charges on the walls, make sure it will collapse this structure, not demolish it! Then pull the men back to the next blockhouse and call up more heavy weapons to reinforce our potential firepower, start issuing 2 bandoleers of grenades to every guardsman on the frontline, and inform them to be liberal with their use. After that, I want you to select the 50 best troops we currently have, and form them into a strike squad. Give them a shotcannon alongside their lasgun, and make sure they only carry frak grenades. There will not be armor that needs to be cracked. See to it!" I ordered and got a strange look in return before my orders were followed. Everything would be done in an orderly and efficient manner, the troops would be pulled back and the explosives detonated on time. All I had to do was prepare for this next plan. I must be out of my goddamned mind! ____________ Over the next few hours, everything was carried out as I ordered it. The collapse of the fortifications overlooking the Undercity created a proper blockage in the tunnel. Not that it stopped the Skaven, we could hear them digging furiously on the other side whenever we got close enough, but my troops were afforded more than enough time to set up more autoguns and heavy bolters. Hastily mixed ferrocrete was applied to the outside of the wooden blockhouses, making them much more resistant to both warpstone bullets and thrown boulders. Sure, we had to light fires at the base of the blockhouse to dry it out quickly enough to have any meaningful effect, and it would still take a few days for it to harden properly, but it would have to do as it was. The soldiers I asked to be pulled aside were gathered and given their new equipment, which was received with extreme enthusiasm. Guardsmen were opportunistic, bordering on kleptomaniac, when it came to gear, and a new weapon alongside extra bandoleers of grenades were nothing to be scoffed at. Sure, I could not upgrade their armor, but doing so would also make them less effective. Having to adjust to new and unfamiliar armor during a special operation was a serious detriment to their fighting ability, one I could not afford. I had my own ships confessor brought in from the outlying villages where he and his preachers were rooting out heresy if there was any to be found. I was busy avoiding both the group I had gathered and Idris as she was looking for me, probably pour more troubles onto my already overflowing plate, when the confessor arrived back. I only knew because he marched straight up to my tent to look for me. I could hear him calling for me, and I had to hurry to shut him up before Idris heard him as well. His face lit up as he laid eyes upon me, and again, he drew in a large breath to go off on a praising speech, and once more I raised a hand to silence him before he started. I had to admit, watching him deflate like that was kind of funny, but there was no time to focus on the humor. "I need you to lead me and a group of guardsmen in both prayer and blessings. We are about to undertake a most dangerous critical task, and I desire those who accompany me to do so with a clear conscience and the love of the Emperor in their hearts. We start immediately. And yes, I know you have had no time to prepare a sermon, but I prefer it this way. Let the Emperor speak through you, confessor." I told him softly and the almost ecstatic look on his face told me I could not have picked a better way to go about this. And it came to be, that a mix of 50 guardsmen and voidsmen, and their rogue trader captain, were all kneeling in unison as the confessor took a position in front of us. He looked nervous as he prepared to speak, but then again, this was an impromptu sermon. with no time to prepare, he would have to pour everything he had ever learned into this sermon. He pulled out a small aspergillum and started sprinkling us with water droplets as he intoned, "By the Emperor''s might, may I be warded. From the choking fumes, may He deliver me. From the scorching tongues, may He protect me. That I may protect His works. Shielded by my faith, I fear not flame, I fear not poison, I fear not plague. May this holy water cleanse my skin; may this ritual cleanse my soul. I am an imperfect child of the Emperor, I cast out the abhorrent filth, and make myself worthy of Him. Ave Imperator." "Ave Imperator!" We answered in unison. Following the opening prayer came a short but powerful speech about facing the dangers that threatened the Imperium so that the civilian population could live in peace and grow prosperous under the Emperor''s guidance. When the confessor took a small break to have a quick drink of water and regain his composure, the 50 troops around me started a prayer without prompt. ¡°The Emperor is our guiding light, a beacon of hope for humanity in a galaxy of darkness. As we serve Him, He is our greatest servant. As we pray to Him, His thoughts are only for us. And in the dark when the shadows threaten, the Emperor is with us, in spirit and in fact.¡± They chanted 3 times. I was quick to fall into the well-known prayer and even the confessor got a solemn look of peace on his face as he watched the troops praying more fervently and fiercely than both he and I expected of them. They prayed with an intensity you would expect of people tethering on the threshold between life and death, the true belief in their own words carrying through to let me know that these men and women did not merely believe in the Emperor as a divine being. To them, it was just a fact of life, the way that things were, and they offered up their entire being to him through their prayers. After the troops stopped chanting, the confessor allowed a moment of silence to settle over the group before he spoke again. "Before we end this sermon, I ask of you. Have any among you sinned against the Emperor? Fear not the truth, for you can approach and receive penitence, lest the Emperor condemn you when your duty ends. We spea sub rosa; may my eyes and ears be His, and may my tongue speak only as He wills. Children of the Creed, speak thou and be heard, for He is with us. For a moment nothing happened. Then 7 troops moved forward and threw themselves flat in front of the confessor. "Imperator miserere, for I have sinned; I come before you as a penitent." They cried out. This was new to me, but their words were the same, almost delivered in tandem, so it had to be ritualistic. The confessor rose to his full height and spread out his arms in an embracing gesture before he answered, "Penitent, I stand before you as a candle. That light that burns before you is His light, and you sit with Him. The Emperor loves you, sinner, as he loves all humanity. Speak of your sin, so that it might be laid naked and you might be judged." They all admitted to varying sins of lesser degrees, ranging from personally questioning the Emperor''s divinity, to having allowed unregulated mutants to live. By themselves, not the worst of sins and certainly not the worst we could find among 20.000 Imperial troops, but harsh enough to warrant some sort of punishment. After a theatrical moment of pondering, the confessor delivered his verdict. "Grave it is to sin against the Emperor, no matter the size or nature of the transgression. Penance must be paid, and you will pay yours by ensuring the life and safety of our lord captain on his coming excursion. No matter the cost, no matter the effort, he must return alive. As such the Emperor decrees, and as such it shall be done." The confessor stepped back and waited for us to get underway. He had performed his duty and performed it well, while also letting me know that I had his full support. We were natural opponents, him from the Ecclesiarchy, and me backed by the Inquisition. But I had proven myself flexible enough to warrant his vouching for me, something that could benefit me massively, should I ever come under scrutiny from his organization. "Lord captain?" A fairly old sergeant directed his words at me. "What exactly is the nature of our current task?" Not an unreasonable question, but one I could fully choose to ignore. Instead of answering the sergeant, I looked at the confessor. "The blessing of the Ardous, if you would be so kind," I commanded, and the confessor stepped forward once more. It was not a blessing I had in my system in this world, but I remembered it from back home and it felt quite fitting. The soldier understood the meaning of my words but had no clue about the blessing either. Not surprisingly, it was not a well-known piece of lore. ¡°O Holy Emperor, watch over Your servants. The path of the faithful is not easy, yet in Your name it must be walked; the burdens of service are not light, yet in Your name they shall be borne. Be Thou the star in our darkness; the light that shows truth and the beacon of home. Be Thou the guide and the guardian, the scourge and the savior. For in Your name, what must be done, shall be done.¡± The confessor recited solemnly as he sprinkled more water on us, and it felt different to me. Sort of tingly, but it didn''t linger. I looked at the sergeant after the confessor finished. "Flanking maneuver, sergeant. We are going to cause a bit of chaos for the damnable mutants. Now follow me and keep noise to a minimum." Chapter 37. De-tox is not for the weak of stomach. I quickly arranged the 50 men into 5 squads. 1 sergeant and 9 soldiers per squad, 2 of the soldiers given a heavy weapon, missile launchers in this case, and 1 soldier being given a vox-caster. This would give me greater operational freedom by being able to communicate with squads that are away from the main group. what we were doing was extremely dangerous, but could end up paying dividends a thousand times over. We were continuously putting the ships augur arrays to good use and we had mapped out the myriad of tunnels that criss-crossed the inside of the mountain. We had also pinpointed the main routes used for travel by the Skaven, at least in enough numbers for the heat sensors to pick up traces of them. Some of the side tunnels lead into this labyrinth of Skaven tunnels. Still, most of them never saw use ever since we blocked them off, giving us a great opportunity to sneak into an elevated position above the frenzying horde and, hopefully with a bit of luck, do some damage to either the Screaming Bell, the rat ogres working it, or the grey seer that controlled the rat ogres. It would be a grey seer of astonishing ability and willpower, most settling for a single rat ogre or stormfiend to function as their bodyguard and bruiser. Having multiple of them, and enough of a presence to keep them subjugated without infighting was no small feat among the most powerful of the Skaven. Shit, we were probably on our way to face off with a member of the Council of Thirteen. Those were the only Skavens with enough power and wealth to pull off anything close to what we were facing. Or worse, an organized effort by the collective council, which would turn this fight from difficult, to grueling. I couldn''t rely on technology alone, I had to outwit the treacherous mutants as well. Just fantastic, I had to outsmart an ancient rodent that lived in a society built on the principles of backstabbing and betrayal, and where words like ''cooperation'' are considered truly filthy. And with me to do it, I had 50 guardsmen, against a Skaven horde numbering millions. But I also had the advantage of all the modern technology available to the Imperium and no less than 3 ships had their augur arrays completely focused on the mountain and the tunnels within. If any sort of numbers started moving towards us we would know, and I had already mapped out no less than 4 separate escape routes we could take that would lead us back to the main cavern. We wouldn''t be able to hide from the Skaven, their sense of smell was far too keen for that to be possible but near the frontline, where the musk of at least a million Skaven hung heavy in the air and drowned out every other smell, we would be invisible as long as we stayed out of sight. True, there had been murmurings about wasted potential use of the augur arrays, but no one dared go against my direct orders. At least, no one that is currently present on the planet. Things would be different once the Inquisition came around to send someone to pick up that damned artifact. On a hunch, I sent a runner to fetch my 3 Ogryns. True, they lacked in the stealth department, but if I kept them in the back, the guardsmen would have enough wits about them to clear a path at the first sign of trouble. If I were going to risk tangling with a grey seer, I was going to need something extra to pit against his rat ogres and whatever else he might be holding back for a nasty surprise. They had their improvised slab shields made of wood, big and heavy enough to function as small gates in their own right, and crude metal clubs provided by the local blacksmiths. They would make a wonderful distraction while the rest of us pulled back to a more advantageous position if we got ambushed, but like the grey seers, I would prefer to keep them in reserve to deal with any overly observant rat ogres. While even a mighty Ogryn was inferior in strength to a rat ogre, they had enough wits about them to outsmart the brutish beasts in a straight-up fight, especially when equipped for the close combat task. I didn''t want to risk them using their ripper guns in the tight tunnels, the chance of the massive buckshot hitting my own little band of brave idiots was too great. When we were ready, I quickly got us underway, the faster we got moving the less time fear and doubt had to settle in the minds of the troops. What I was doing was insane and unprecedented, but it was crazy enough to work with a bit of luck. Following the map we started the trek through the dark tunnels as silently as possible. The Ogryns always made noise, but they also sensed the tension among the rest of us and they took it to heart, giving a serious effort to make as little noise as possible. For almost 30 minutes the route took us down twists, turns, and empty stretches of cramped mountain corridor filled with strange noises and the distant sounds of both the battle at the frontline and the Skaven moving around deeper inside the mountain. More than once we had to backtrack due to the confusing design of the Skaven tunnels, and stop moving because of roaming patrols showing up on the Auspex readers, moving through other tunnels. They wouldn''t be able to smell us, but if we did not stop moving, they would hear us. Those small breaks were the worst part, standing still in the dimly lit tunnels, listening to the Skaven running through the tunnels on either side of the one we were occupying. It was difficult enough to keep the Ogryns calm, being in enclosed and dark places, the 2 things that were universally hated and feared by Ogryns, but adding just standing around to the mix made it almost impossible. I had to assign a whole squad to attend to them at any given moment, just to prevent them from either bursting into rage or having a mental breakdown, both of which would reveal us. We moved slower than I would have liked, but there wasn''t much I could do about it. These were not the smooth floors of the mechanicus workers, but the rough work of the Skaven. Their excellent vision in low-light conditions made the need for smooth floors a superfluous luxury that was reserved for the few rich and powerful enough to afford such frivolous things. We made our way, as slow as it was, and the closer we got the more noisy it became. The smell became overwhelming, a mix of rot, rodents, death, and something else. A smell of burnt ozone. So they were actively engaged in warp shenanigans at this point. We didn''t have much time and I paced my men forward, faster than safety would allow, but my gut told me we were running out of time. We rounded a final corner and the wall of stench that hit me was almost overwhelming. The musk of thousands upon thousands of Skaaven, mixed with the foulness of chaos worshippers and all the filth that followed with them. There, at the end of a long stretch of tunnel, was a small plateau overlooking the entire approaching army, at least according to the augur readings. As long as I had a clear look at the bell, I didn''t care about much else. Hell, I didn''t care about any of the troopers with me, as long as we could take that accursed bell out of the equation, even if just for a while. The closer we got to the small opening ahead, the smaller we made ourselves. When we were a few dozen steps away from it, I raised my hand and stopped the group. Motioning for the men carrying the rocket launchers to move to the front, they understood what I wanted. We only got one attempt. Success or failure, in either case, we would only have 10 seconds of firing and maybe 10 more seconds of panic from the sudden ambush to disappear back into the tunnel. Then we would have to go back the way we came. I had a map, and many of the men had made crude drawings and notes while we walked. When our little window of time was up, an ocean of death and mutilation would descend upon us, and our only chance was to be fast enough to get back and activate the demo charges the combat engineers had been busy wiring ever since we started this insane little expedition. 2 deep breaths to calm the nerves and I started moving at speed, the 5 men with rocket launchers trailing behind me. I left the opening and found myself on a small plateau able to hold, maybe, 80 men, so more than large enough for my purpose. I reached the edge and took in the sight below. waves of brown and black-spotted fur en route in a slow rolling motion, toward the partially collapsed tunnel. From the look of things, they had cleared an opening and were pressing forward to get through, almost to the point of infighting. Meanwhile, the screaming bell kept up its steady rhythm of repugnant energies that spread out and peaked the fury of the Skaven it hit. I saw the rat ogres and the bell, but I didn''t see the grey seer on the cart. No matter, I pointed out the bell and hissed "Fire in unison, we only get this one chance!" They rushed to the edge where they kneeled and took aim, the rest of the troops taking up positions behind them where they collectively pulled out grenades and started throwing with reckless abandon in every direction. As soon as the first frak grenade passed over the heads of the 5 kneeling men, they fired. The screaming rockets made the Skaven stop and simply observe for a moment, as they sailed through the air. They never saw them land before the first grenades went off, spreading death and chaos in the tightly packed ranks. As dead Skaven were thrown about, and the panicking survivors did their damnest to escape no matter the cost of allied lives, it only added to the fire I had ignited among the already frenzied horde. The world fell silent as I watched the missiles get closer and closer to their target, and for a single moment an ice-cold fear grabbed my heart as they reached the distance where they had exploded last time, but they kept moving and the whole thing disappeared behind a wall of exploding fire and fragments. The roars of pain and rage that rose above the chittering suggested the rat ogres had not been killed, but at least maimed, which also meant that the wooden construction holding up the bell would be taken out. As for the bell, the mountain was still standing and I was still breathing, so it was unharmed. The amount of foul psychic energy that was forced into it, would have leveled the entire mountain and surrounding area if the physical container had been damaged. "RETREAT! BACK TO BASE!" I screamed, but even as my men turned to run, I noticed a green glow emerge from the now smoking area of impact, and warp-lightning shot out, parting the clouds and revealing the grey seer, eyes blazing green and teeth chewing ferociously on the warpstone between them, screaming incoherently as he bathed the edge of our cliff in green lighting. 20 of my troopers died on the spot while the rest sprinted for safety with me following close behind them. Arrows, knives, throwing stars, and whatever else the Skaven could get their hands on, rained down around us as we reached the small opening that led away from the plateau. I was the last to step through and as I did, my danger sense flared up for a moment before a sharp pain hit my right upper arm. One of the rectangular throwing blades of clan Eshin was sticking out of my arm and I could both see and smell the poison coating on the blade. I grabbed it and ripped it out so more poison didn''t enter my system, but I had barely made it 5 more steps before the effects made themselves known. The world started tilting, my knees gave out, my ears started ringing and every nerve in my body started firing off, obfuscating and masking my movements to myself. Someone spoke to me, but all the sounds floated together in an amalgam of sensory input, and I felt my natural resistances kick in and my body working overtime to try and fix the damage inflicted upon me. But one thing made it through the muddled and hazy fog. A screeching and shrill voice that nonetheless carried an immense power within it. "MAN-THING! I SHALL MURDER-KILL YOU SO SLOWLY THAT THE GREAT HORNED RAT WILL TREMBLE WITH PLEASURE AT YOUR SUFFERING! MY ENDLESS ARMY SHALL FEAST-GNAW ON THE BONES OF YOUR SQUISHY-SOFT PEOPLE! YOUR PUPS WILL BE SLAVES UNTIL THE ONLY TASK THEY CAN COMPLETE IS TO FEED US! GNAWSKREEK IS THE MOST POWERFUL SKAVEN TO EVER LIVE AND WILL SEE THE END OF YOUR INFERIOR RACE!" I was hearing the grey seer in all of his rage and fury, and he was targeting me specifically. I wanted to shout back, but I was still reeling from the effects of whatever poison they had thrown at me, and I could barely stand. Still, a single word found its way from the darkest parts of my memory, the name of a minor deity used by the Skaven as an insult, a wish to damn the receiver to the abyssal hell said deity inhabits. "KWEETHUL!!" The effort to shout the word set fire to my lungs and made me collapse in a coughing fit, but the effects of my single word were devastating. An ungodly howl of cataclysmic rage was followed by the opening behind us completely disappearing under a new storm of warp lightning, the plateau shattering like brittle glass and chunks of the mountain itself falling away under the onslaught of psychic power. It took me minutes to recover enough to register my surroundings and realize I was being carried by one of the Ogryns, the surviving troops close around as they all ran in the same direction. I didn''t see the 2 other Ogryns, but there was a lot of screeching and bellowing coming from the direction we were leaving. I had no idea how long we had been moving, or how much further we had to go, but the troops around the Ogryn carrying me seemed to be very certain of where to go as they collectively shouted and pointed whenever we had to take a turn. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. My body was fighting the poison, tooth, and nail, trying to keep me alive despite the virulent poisons rolling through my veins. It felt like fire was running through me, finding every nerve and dipping it in an acid designed specifically to make death as painful and horrendous as possible. Time became immaterial, and I faded back into pain-induced delirium. I had no idea how much time passed, or even what happened to and around me, but I sensed a lot of commotion at some point and suddenly the world flashed back into view, a different pain took over from the poison, and I felt a sudden urge to vomit violently. I only managed to turn my head before I projectile vomited, my nose started gushing blood, and I soiled myself to an extent I had not thought possible. Once I was no longer expelling fluid from my body, I noticed the syringe sticking out of my chest. "Remarkable. Quite resilient, despite the weakness of the flesh." A machine-filtered voice said, and I whirled my head around to find a techpriest staring down at me through bionic eyes. His red robes were covered with dirt and grime and his tools showed signs of recent use, with fresh and still-drying dirt clinging to them. His many attached arms were busy moving things around on his body, putting items into a small backpack while adjusting the myriad of macrostubbers placed in various holsters. I counted 5 and a galvanic carbine, as well as the signature servo-arm of the machine cult. This one looked like it was modified for digging into rock and packed dirt. Something about this one was different though. He seemed more present, more aware than most others I had met from the machine cult and it unnerved me, especially since his focus seemed to be entirely on me for the moment. "I told you it wasn''t too late! Thank the Emperor the guardsmen who brought him back had enough wits about them to inform us of the poisoned blades of the mutants. Will he recover fully"? Idris''s voice was sharp, carrying hints of worry and slight panic, but she seemed to keep it together. "I''m fine!" I managed before I vomited again. "Well, as close to fine as one can be after having de-tox forced into your system. But it beats dying, that''s for sure." I wiped a hand down my face, causing the techpriest to reach out and grab my wrist with his servo-arm. "A digital weapon? You must allow me to study it, Lord trader!" His entire focus was on the ring on my finger, the same ring I had taken from the former governor. His eyes were whirring and clicking as he gave his undivided attention to the hidden last-resort weapon. "In due time, techpriest, but for now, I want my arm back," I growled over the upset rumbling of my stomach that threatened to empty my bowels once more. I desperately needed a shower, a change of clothes, and someone to clean my armor. And I needed food, lots of food, as my now empty stomach was already sending hunger pain signals to my brain. When the techpriest reluctantly let go of my arm, I staggered to my feet with the help of Idris. I noticed the face she made when she got closer to me, and it made me keenly aware of my own stench. "The troop showers. Quickly!" I muttered. I needed to gather myself, to get a hold of the situation. And get rid of my own Emperor damned stench. Idris supported me while the de-tox worked its magic and purged the last residual poison from my system. 3 more times I vomited as we walked, but finally, we were there and I didn''t bother taking off my armor, boots, uniform, or anything else. The lukewarm water felt like the warm embrace of the bed I used to sleep in, back before I arrived in this universe, and for a moment, a single glorious moment, it felt like I was back in my old small apartment, taking a shower after a long days work at the forge. But like all good things, it came to an end all too quickly. I slowly got out of my armor and uniform while enjoying the peace and solitude of the small shower stall, but I couldn''t just linger here. However, given the rare opportunity of isolation, I wanted to go through my status screen. HUMAN. LEVEL 7. STAT POINTS REMAINING: 0 ALIGNMENT: FAITHFUL IMPERIAL++ LITANIES: 68 AUGMENTATIONS: Cybernetic lung(upgrade lvl1, Toxins/environment) LEVEL:15868/385400 STRENGTH: 17 AGILITY: 18 PERCEPTION: 17 WILL: 24 LUCK: 33 PSYCHE: 329/500 SKILLS FEATS ABILITIES RETINUE Achievement unlocked: Compassionate commander: First in, last out, behaving like a true leader of men. In a universe of unimagined cruelty, you remain pure enough to care about those that others never notice. You weirdo. +2 Perception. Poison connoisseur: By either miracle or freak accident, you have survived several attempts on your life through poisoning. Congratulations. 5 endurance levels toward the next tier awarded. Mortal enemy: You have gravely insulted a being of great power. Their life now revolves around being the creator of your ultimate demise. Took you long enough. Wait, what? I didn''t ask for that! I didn''t want that! Get that shit away from my status screen, shoo! Do my bidding you antagonizing system, you! *Ding* ... *Open message* Boss me around again. ... ... NOPE! Now is the time I finish this shower and get into some clean and dry clothes! I closed the status screen so much faster than I had ever opened it and tried forgetting the whole experience in the bliss of lukewarm water. I had only managed to put on new pants and boots and have my wounds tended to when my tent flap was pushed aside and Farsyn, my navigator Primaris, came walking in with a fire in his eyes. He stared down the attendant who was busy sowing up the cut on my arm where the thrown blade had hit me. Despite my luck, it had found its way between 2 segments of the carapace plate. I had to be careful in the future. Almost 10 minutes later I could finally put on a shirt and send the attendant away, and the tent had barely closed before Farsyn could no longer contain himself. "There is a foul presence nearby, and I demand to know everything there is to know about it! Mutations on the ship are happening at an increased rate, heretics abound, and there is a sickening aura permeating through the warp!" His voice was shaking with frustration and anger, and it occurred to me just how much danger I was in. A Navigator was still a powerful psyker, and this one was bordering on being emotionally unstable. And it was all directed at me... "Farsyn. If you sit down, I will tell you what I know. Rest assured though, the cause of disturbance is firmly under our control, it is in a secure location, and it is the very reason for my summoning you in the first place since I need you to nullify its presence until the Inquisition, who I have also sent word to, can arrive to take it off our hands." I lifted both hands in a placating manner as I spoke, and while not calm, then at least reassured that there was some measure of control over things. He grudgingly took a seat and stared me down. "Speak!" He commanded. I understood the boldness, this was his realm of expertise after all. "We found a Pandemic staff. I have it secured in an iron box, locked in a shed, and under constant rotating guard, but I need its warp presence suppressed. The mutants are using foul sorcery, but nothing we can''t handle so far. They ARE in possession of a dark artifact of their own making, but it has been temporarily disabled. I hope that we can make a significant breakthrough before they can reapply its vile powers." I rubbed my forehead as I spoke, I was tired and still hungry, and I had no time for rest or relaxation. And now I had an angry psyker to deal with. "That doesn''t explain why I was not informed the moment the hideous thing was discovered! Do you understand the danger it poses to those around it? Or even comprehend-" Farsyn was building up his indignation once more, my attempt to take the wind out of his sail annoying him more than anything. I didn''t allow it though. "ENOUGH! Do you not see that I am currently engaged in combat with the enemies of the Imperium? I understand that there is a way of doing things, but you must also understand that war makes a mockery of all things traditional and rule-compliant! Yes, I could sit in here all day, sipping amasec and ordering people around to do my every bidding. But then I would be no better than the fat waste of life that I am currently replacing as Lord governor of this planet, as well as bearing responsibility for both my ship and a chartist captain''s fleet of ships, as well as the collective profit AND well-being of every single soul on or in orbit around this planet! And I am the type that leads from the front, so I ask you why you have not sent word to me before if you were so worried?! Now, if you would be so kind, as to find it in your heart to appreciate the fact that I summoned not merely a member of your faction, but you directly, to deal with this disgusting dark artifact, then maybe we can start working on a solution rather than be at each others throats when the enemy is attacking the ramparts as we speak!" I lost my cool and unloaded on Farsyn, the pressure from the last few days and the close brush with death made me forget all about rank and position, and made me direct my anger at him, man to man. The silence hung heavy in the air after my outburst and Farsyn was struggling with several emotions, but logic seemed to win in the end as he straightened his robe, adjusted the veil in front of his third eye, and got out of his seat. "I agree Lord Captain. If you would lead me to the artifact, I can assess the severity of the situation at once." With a nod of appreciation, I moved to the tent flap, but I was stopped dead in my tracks when I opened the tent. A gaggle of retainer and minor navigators and psykers, if the unsettling energy they gave off was anything to go by. "I didn''t know what I was walking into, so I took... Precautions." Farsyn mumbled behind me, and when I looked back I saw the remnants of a cheeky smile on the serious man''s face. So there was some humor in him after all. Shit, with the amount of psykers he brought with him he could have burned a path straight to the frontline and barely broken a sweat by the time he got there. "Any of your more aggressive individuals are more than welcome to take a crack at the frontline. There are heretics among the mutants, and mutant witchcraft to deal with, and I have no proper response to such threats. Having even basic protection would do amazing things for both the results of our attacks, and the morale of the troops. So, will you lend your people''s assistance to the war effort?" I turned to the Navigator and gave him a half smile. I knew what he was thinking, and he didn''t hold back in letting his thoughts be known. "I came here expecting to wrestle command from a corrupt rogue trader, and now I am contemplating lending him the forces I brought to subdue him. You are a strange man, Lord Captain, but one that I shall continue to trust. I pray you do not disappoint." Farsyn said before turning away from me, toward his retainers. A few sharp orders and a dozen or so moved toward the tunnel that led to the frontline. The significance of his using the honorary title of my rank in the Imperium was not lost on me, as it was a message to both me and those around us that I had his full support. I began leading him and the rest of his followers to the shack that contained the iron box with the pandemic staff inside, and as we got closer I noticed many among his followers make warding signs and mumble prayers as we approached. What felt like a pressure wave of psychic energy emitted from one of the followers, and the stifling atmosphere that had dominated the area just moments before, began to recede. "You can leave now, we shall guard the artifact from this point on," Farsyn said to the guards who looked at me. "Go see a medic before you turn in, I don''t need you spreading whatever it is you caught," I said with a nod, and they hurried off toward the field hospital. The cloaked figure emitting the suppressive psychic energy slowly approached the shack we kept the box locked in and took a kneeling position. I couldn''t see the person''s face, but I could sense the immense concentration that was being exerted. "I trust you have things under control here. Let me know if you or your people need anything, and I shall see it done." I said as I turned, and Farsyn made a noise of acknowledgment as he started directing his followers. "And Farsyn, I would appreciate it very much if you would return to the ship once everything is running smoothly down here. I cannot afford to lose my Principle navigator at this moment, and I have no desire to gamble with your life by having you stay in what I consider to be an active warzone. No debate!" "Yes, lord captain. Ave Imperator!" Farsyn bowed before he returned his attention to his duties, and I could finally have just a small bit of time to get some food and, well, maybe not some rest but at least a cup of recaf or 2 before returning to the front. with psykers on my side, I was curious as to how much better we would fare, even if they ''just'' shielded my troops from what little ranged weaponry the Skaven had. I set my sights on my tent and headed back for some much-needed respite. But of course, things were not to go as I desired, both the confessor and the new techpriest were waiting near my tent when I approached. I sighed deeply. Might as well get it over with, the sooner I was done with them, the sooner I could turn my attention to greater things. Chapter 38. From kind of bad, to..... well, fuck. I rubbed my forehead vigorously as I approached the 2 and it struck me that they couldn''t be more different, both in looks and in belief, yet they worked together to further the Emperor''s will and my agenda, whatever it may be at the time. Within reason, of course. They both stepped forward at the same time, only to stop and turn towards each other. I had to intervene before they started arguing. "Confessor, is there a problem?" I turned my attention to him and he seemed rather pleased to be the one to go first. "No problem, Lord Captain, But only about half of the group that went with you came back. I wanted to hold a ceremony, to recite the prayers of absolution for the dead and absolution of the redeemed. They were given a task which they saw to completion, and as such they should be freed from the charge of your safe return." I could tell there was more he wanted to say, but maybe he was accepting that long-winded speeches with endless praises to both me and the Emperor, were not the way to communicate with me. "Of course, If you gather them after their wounds are tended to and they have had a chance to rest up a bit, as I plan to do as well, we shall hold a proper ceremony. I leave you in charge of the finer details." I sent him away with a hand wave, but he was in an excellent mood as he hurried away to plan what I could only assume would be a marvelous sermon in the Emperor''s name. "Lord Captain, you really must let me study that digital weapon. Such unstudied objects could potentially unlock the secrets held within them." Archimedes said without prompt to speak. I should have expected as much, the Mechanicus never cared much for Imperial grand-standing and preferred to get things resolved as quickly as possible. "As much as I would love to grant your request, I must demand your patience. I need sustenance, I need recuperation, I need to address the troops that returned me from the sabotage mission, and only then can you and I start looking into the nifty little thing. You must forgive me, but given your organisations'' reputation around such technology, I would much prefer to be present for any interaction you have with my personal belongings." I rubbed my thumb against the ring I carried on my right index finger, and I could feel his annoyance with my needs. "The flesh is weak." That was all he said before he turned and left. "In case you didn''t notice, I''m currently fighting a war against the enemies of mankind!" I called out after him, but he didn''t answer. I spent the next half hour grumbling and calming down before I could fall asleep, but I slept well. I had eaten a small meal before I went to sleep, and another quick one once I woke up. It was a short nap, maybe a few hours, but it did wonders for my well-being. I also drank generously from our water supply, one of the benefits of my status¡ªunfettered access to supplies. My tent guard had a report waiting for me when I left the tent, informing me that the psykers had reached the front and been put to good use, both with protecting against the ranged and psychic attacks, and quelling the spread of the chaos worshippers influence. It spread like a sickly vapor that hung around the area under their firm control, followed them when they moved, and enveloped their warriors when they attacked. More foul sorcery to deal with, and more trouble when it came to assaulting the Skaven. As much as I hated to admit it, they were quite creative when it came to working around every setback I inflicted upon them. I was slightly disheartened after reading the report, but with the addition of psykers to my own ranks, it should at the very least even each other out in the long run. I put on my now-cleaned armor and gathered the weapons and equipment I would need on the frontline. With the psykers there, it was time to make a push forward, preferably to within 50 meters of the nearest standing structures, where we would create a new defensive line and start the bombardment once more. Rinse and repeat until the leaders tried to intervene, at which point I would have to wing it once more unless an opportunity to plan their demise presented itself along the way. As I began my trek back to the frontline, I noticed the increase in runners carrying supplies and munitions to the fight. It had only been a few at a time when we first started our attack on the city, but at this point, it was more like a train of people doing the best imitation of a pendulum. Back and forth they went, bringing with them endless amounts of gear, charge packs, medical supplies, heavy bolter ammunition, building materials, heavy weapons, and more. I could hear the cacophony of noise the constant discharging of weapons produced, blended with the *whoosh* of missiles, screams of Skavens and heretics, and muffled *thumps* of impacting grenades. Nobody paid me much attention in the beginning, but as I got close to the open fighting, people started kneeling and presenting the Aquila as a sign of respect. I casually waved off their displays of loyalty, and in truth, they annoyed me. I would have to address this horrendous compulsive action during fighting. I did not need my men to stop their attacks just to show signs of respect. Walking around the final corner, I saw the devastation before me. A large dent had been made in the Skaven undercity, the rubble, and broken corpses littering the gargantuan cave it inhabited. Granted, in the grand scheme of things, the damage to the undercity was insignificant and barely noticeable, but it was a hell of a good start and gave my troops something tangible to point to for the efforts so far. A massive group of combat engineers were gathered up, tools ready in hand and a small mountain of building supplies next to them. Their commander was giving a briefing and I slid closer to listen in. They were tasked with moving the frontline forward, building defensive earthworks and barricades closer to the city, and they would have to do so while our regular troops kept the enemy at bay with mass fire. A fairly standard tactic within the Imperium, but not one I wanted to lean on, as the large loss of life would be a blow to my forces, at least until reinforcements arrived with the Inquisition. Sure, they were coming for the artifact, but once they saw the state of affairs and the war I had embroiled the planet in, they would be unable to stop themselves. Their bloodlust towards heretics and mutants would, hopefully, see me gain control of the forces needed to see this campaign through to a very swift end. "Commander!" My yelling made her snap around and immediately bow low. She had to be from Idris''s ships if that was her standard response. "Yes, Lord Captain, how may I be of service?" Her voice was controlled and respectful, but also a little bit impatient. I guess I disturbed her at the height of her bravado. "Change of plans. You will hold these fine engineers in reserve until I give the signal. I see no reason to throw their lives away so carelessly, in a futile effort to construct siege-grade defenses while engaged in melee fighting with mutants. You will wait for your signal, and when it comes, you will move them to their positions as quickly as possible, at which point you will abandon their command and assume command of a frontline group that will be tasked with keeping the engineers safe while they work.." I could see her disbelief grow while I spoke, but I didn''t care. "My Lord, that is not an approved battle doctrine! The Logis Stratego has clearly outlined the best way to perform these kinds of assaults!" Her protest would have been enough for almost anyone else in the Imperium, but not for me. "Are you defying me?" My voice was low, but the tone was unmistakable. I would demote her to the lowest rank possible and send her into the bowels of my ship to assist the mechanicus as a menial laborer if she said anything other than no. "No, my Lord, I would never, but I worry about the deviation from standard Imperial battle doctrine." Her face, which had been confident and strong a second ago, was now deathly pale, and beads of sweat were forming on her forehead. The implied threat of my question had scared her to her very core. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. "Good. Now, stay here while I get the combat group together for you. Unless there are specific troops you would prefer to have under your command, in which case you need just make a list of names and I shall see to it they are released from their current duties." I glanced over at the combat engineers and to say they looked relieved was an understatement. I made my way to the arch-militant, and of course, the man was t the frontline, busying himself with raining death and destruction on the enemies of mankind. "Lord Captain, what an unexpected but welcome surprise to see you back at the frontline." He said while reloading the rocket launcher he was currently wielding. "Are we finally ready to make the next push?" His eagerness to take the fight to the enemy was infectious, and the men around us murmured in agreement. "Very soon. I need you to gather up some heavy weapons squads, heavy bolters only. They, along with a contingent of regular troops, will create a firing line in front of the combat engineers while they build the first defenses. As soon as that is finished, you will take that position and allow them time to build a full command bunker. We are kicking this fight into the next stage and getting ready for reinforcements, so I need the next large attack to be either ready or underway when they arrive." "Reinforcements? I didn''t think that would be needed, we have more than enough troops and weapons to see this through to the end. Not that I''m complaining though, more guns pointed at the enemy is always a good thing." It was not a critique of the things to come, merely an observation from one of the most expert baseline human soldiers the Imperium was able to field. "It is not that we need the reinforcements, but the Inquisition is on its way, and we all know how they react to the presence of mutants and heretics. I predict they will unload as many troops as they can fit into the mountain and try to sweep over the mutants the same way they tried to sweep over us. Speaking of, is the enemy still attacking mindlessly?" I needed an update on how things were going, and his answer did not please me. "No, Lord Captain, they have stopped their wave attacks in favor of attempts at infiltration and limited long-range attacks. Their mutant monsters are being held back, as are the heretics. All in all, they are being worryingly quiet, my Lord" He looked displeased at his own words, and I didn''t blame him. The Skaven not mounting attack after attack on an invading enemy did not bode well, and a terrible thought popped into my head. I had my master vox, and I called our base camp in a near panic. "Triple the guards, increase and expand patrol patterns, and have combat engineers go over every single nook and cranny once more, looking for structural weaknesses that were not there before, and signs of digging. Use Auspex equipment to look for gatherings of enemies inside the walls, and set up ambushes if any are discovered. And put my Ogrns on guard duty at the shack the psykers stay close to!" I spat my orders through the vox like gunfire, and I could hear desperate scrambling in the background as runners and petty officers hastened to make my orders a reality. "At once, Lord Cap-" I cut the vox off, formalities could wait. "You suspect the enemy might be trying to flank us by opening a new tunnel into the cave we inhabit?" The arch-militant looked at me with a new look of respect. "I do, and to think otherwise would be stupidity. We are dealing with an enemy that thrives on deception and I will not give them the chance to pull their dirty tricks on us. Should they successfully pull off a sneak attack at our base camp, we would be trapped between them and the city in front of us, while losing at least half our troops. These mutants are efficient killers once they get into close range. And considering the abnormally large mutations they seem to control, I am not willing to take even the slightest risk if I can avoid it." My tone was grim and I had a feeling my facial expression mirrored it because the arch-militant simply nodded and started walking with a purpose, no doubt to acquire the troops I wanted him to gather. It took him a surprisingly short time to gather almost 200 troops that had already survived several close calls when the Skaven had pressed close to our defenses. Some of them had even tangled with the Skaven in melee and come out on top. They were a good pick, and I ordered them all to equip shotcannons and las pistols instead of their regular las rifles. They all knew what they were going to do, and no one complained about my orders. I expected as much, being able to turn a foe into mist, or a group of foes into dead foes, with a single pull of the trigger, was always a reassuring thought. "COMMANDER!!" I called out, and she appeared almost instantly. "Yes, Lord Captain." She seemed both annoyed and relieved as she appeared, most likely because we deviated from standard Imperial battle doctrine, but in a way that was meant to spare the lives of as many troops as possible. This was new for her, a leader who cared more about the men under him than the objective at hand. "We will move out soon. You and your engineers will follow 50 meters behind and start setting up a simple defensive barricade large enough for the troops to occupy as a temporary strongpoint, after which you are going to construct a proper bastion. I am aware this will take time, but once the first barricade is in place, I will move more troops forward to support you during your construction efforts. There will also be heavy weapon squads ready to take up defensive positions on our flanks to keep you safe. Get ready to move out." I didn''t bother to acknowledge whether or not she understood, the Imperium trained attentive and obedient commanders. The troops had changed their equipment and lined up for the charge toward the Skaven city, at least a few hundred meters of ground that needed to be covered. With the lack of constant attack, we didn''t have to wait for a perfect opportunity to make a fighting advance, the few Skaven that could be seen in the distance were hopping around the debris, looting whatever they could get their hands on. I nodded to the arch-militant who blew a whistle, the signal to charge forward, and with a collective roar, the troops emerged from the bunker defenses and surged forward. As we ran, I heard a second whistle behind us, letting me know the engineers were starting to move. We made it almost all the way to our designated area before the looting Skaven reacted. They squealed and ran away the moment they saw us charging toward them, and I could almost see the cloud of pheromones around them as they secreted their musk of fear, letting any Skaven out of sight know that danger was approaching. Setting up a half circle surrounding the area where the engineers would start building their defenses, the heavy weapons squads took their position on the flank, 2 heavy bolters on each side, and a single one in the middle of our formation. For the moment, they were mounted on tripods and had an additional trooper assigned to them, who could function as an ammunition runner until some proper defenses had been built and could store the spare ammunition. I noticed that almost all the troops held the shotcannon in the left hand, halfway up the barrel, while keeping their las pistol ready to fire with the right hand. A good tactic that allowed them to fire precision shots until the enemy got too close and they would have to create some breathing room, at which point, the shotcannon merely needed to be turned toward the enemy and the trigger pulled. The engineers arrived shortly after, hauling loads of materials and tools, and they wasted no time in getting to work. They knew as well as us that every second counted, and the sooner they got the first barricade up, they could relax in the knowledge that I would summon more troops and begin work on the bastion. It would take days to complete, but once the lower floor was done, I could fill it up with more heavy weapons while the engineers continued building. The first hour passed rather peacefully, the occasional Skaven or heretic wandered within range of my troops, and with a zeal that would have made any commissar proud, they were promptly gunned down under a hail of lasfire. For a short while, I thought we would be lucky enough to finish our work in peace. But as with all things 40k, it was never that easy. It started as barely audible noise but quickly grew into a cacophony of skittering feet. My savant ability gave me the sense that a massive wave was approaching us. "BRACE FOR CONTACT!!" I yelled out, and I sensed everyone tense up. The engineers started working faster, glancing back over their shoulders every once in a while. Then one of the heavy bolters on our left flank started barking, followed by the other one a second later. I followed the line of tracers to find the origin of the enemy, but all the shots disappeared down a long tunnel on our far left flank. It was impossible to shout over the noise of the heavy bolters, but the roar that shook the cave grabbed everyone''s attention, and it came from the same cave the heavy bolters were firing toward. A large shadow moved around in the dark of the cave with a blob of small shadows seemingly dancing around it. What emerged was worse than I could have ever imagined. Chapter 39: How am I still alive? The enormous shape screeched in a cacophony of voices as it dragged its massive bulk out of the cave and into the light. nearing 10 meters in height, A misshapen mountain of flesh dragged its body forward with its many misshapen limbs. The many heads grafted onto its body, some blind and some not, snapped and sniffed in all directions in an attempt to find something worth eating. Various tubes and mechanical bits were surgically grafted into the mutated flesh, and unknown fluids shining with the sickening glow of warpstone were being pumped continuously into its body. Primitive wheels reinforced with crude iron rims helped it move much faster than possible for something of that size. The heavy bolter rounds impacted and blew small chunks of flesh off of it, but almost as fast as the wounds were inflicted, new flesh grew out to close them. "FIRE AT WILL! UNLOAD ON THE MUTANT WITH EVERYTHING YOU HAVE!! ENGINEERS, LEAVE THE WORK AND PREPARE TO REPELL THE SMALL MUTANTS!" This was bad, this was really bad, and I shouted my orders without trying to conceal the panic. It would help them realize that this was not just the whim of a strange rogue trader. The area lit up with the light of 200 las pistols firing in unison with the heavy bolters and the damage slowly started building on the abomination approaching us. It was not enough. at this point it would reach us before we could do enough damage to it, it was already within a few hundred meters of our position and the damage only made it angrier and faster. I sensed more than saw the panic spreading among the troopers, their fire rate increased while their accuracy fell, and the battle banter was replaced with sharp-tongued directions instead. A literal hailstorm of stubber rounds flew through a hole in our ranks with almost unholy amounts of fire pouring forward. A glance over my shoulder revealed Archimedes, the techpriest, firing all 4 of his macrostubbers with astonishing precision. I had no idea when he arrived, but I was thankful he was here. A missile flew overhead and connected cleanly with the center of the abomination, the explosion and subsequent shower of gore stopping it dead in its track. It wasn''t enough. With a shriek of pain that shook the walls and made the dust rain from the cave ceiling, it threw itself forward, the unholy concoctions flowing into its body already knitting together the damaged tissue and growing new flesh. "KEEP FIRING! USE EVERYTHING YOU HAVE!" I screamed in near panic, fumbling for an extra charge pack in my pocket. with my free hand, I started fiddling with the settings on it, trying to overcharge it to the point where it became unstable. It took a few seconds, during which the abomination closed to just outside of throwing distance. A sharp *BEEP* told me I had succeeded, and I threw the charge pack with all my might. It impacted the advancing mutant before falling on the ground and getting covered by the wheeled contraption that helped it move before the charge pack exploded More powerful than a regular grenade, but not as powerful as an overheating plasma weapon, it was enough to ruin the wooden wheels and grind the advance of the abomination to a crawl. With my off-hand being free once more, I drew my falchion while I kept firing and prepared myself for the melee that was still approaching. "MY LORD, PLEASE STEP ASIDE!" A voice rang out behind me, and almost by instinct I did as asked. A white-hot beam of psychic energy blazed past me, followed by a scream imbued with psychic energy, both colliding with the beast. The psychic shriek made it impossible for it to use its limbs to absorb the molten beam, as it wreaked havoc on the already splintered mind of the abomination, and the beam cut cleanly through the unarmored flesh. Despite the unprecedented amount of firepower and psychic powers being leveled against it, it still advanced, whatever thoughts remained inside of it having been reduced to a single instinct. To crush, kill, and devour whatever it could get its limbs on. The multitude of heads cried out in pain and anguish, snapping ferociously in the air in the hopes of catching a random opponent in their jaws, and with a mighty effort it reared high above our loose formation before crashing down and crushing a dozen troops under its bulk, limbs thrashing and mouths ripping at the already dead men and women. The proximity did have a single upside. Every trooper that had one, fired their shot cannons with devastating effect, turning almost the entire front of the abomination into little more than ground meat. With another unholy screech, it shuddered and fell over, its body crashing audibly to the ground. People started cheering and celebrating, but I was not so quick to relax. I was waiting for the thing to burst and a small army of large rats to emerge. When it didn''t happen, I made a choice. "Don''t stop attacking! It''s not finished!" I barked and the confused soldiers looked at me as I lunged forward and slashed at the body with my falchion. The wound I inflicted started bleeding profusely, but it also started knitting itself back together. Before I could launch another attack, and before the troops around me could react to what I was doing, the abomination began moving again. It started dragging itself back to an upright position, slowly at first, but quickly regaining motor control. "BY THE EMPEROR, KILL IT AGAIN!" I screamed as I started slashing wildly into its still heavily wounded body, desperate to inflict as much tissue damage as possible in an attempt to slow its return to life. Several troops close to me followed my example, abandoning ranged weapons in favor of stabbing and cutting at the beast. Little did it help. With a mighty heave, the hellpit abomination once more reared high above us and screeched its fury and hatred into the air. With its mobility restored, my attacks quickly turned into a frantic defense, trying to block or parry the raking claws and gleaming teeth that could now reach me. I spun, ducked, fired my laspistol with my offhand, and blocked as many of the attacks as I could manage. The sounds of the troops around me were deafened, their weapons fire and shouting became insignificant in the face of the task before me. I was fighting for dear life, every move made with a singular purpose. Survive. I was not fast enough nor strong enough to stop every attack, but so far my carapace armor was absorbing what my skill and ability could not stop, but for how long? My movements were a blur of speed, more instinct than thought, but I could feel my energy burning fast. I could not keep this up for long, and the towering mutant in front of me had warp-infused Skaven potions and concoctions being pumped into it every moment of its life. The mere fact that I was still standing was a testament to the power of mankind when backed into a corner. Or more likely, a testament to the power of the system boosting my natural ability. A searing pain shot through my left arm, and with a twist of my blade, I cut off the blind and misshapen head that had clamped its teeth down on my wrist. Even after being cut off, it still hung on to my arm, its jaws locked when I cut it off the body. Now robbed of my laspistol, my defense became frantic, driven purely by the instinct, the very need to survive, and I started stumbling backward, The abomination pressing forward with the taste of my blood still fresh on its lips. "FIRE!" A voice boomed almost as loud as the initial roar of the abomination that shook the cave ceiling, and I heard synchronized bolter fire being unleashed upon the abomination. I could feel the *whoosh* of the bolts as they passed me, and every time one of them detonated, the small explosion sent out a shockwave that felt like a small punch to the face. But it gave me the pause I needed to create distance between me and the horror that had wounded me. With distance, the sounds of the rest of the battlefield came back to me, and I realized that the number of weapons fired far exceeded the number of troops I had brought with me. Allowing myself a short moment to sense the battlefield, I got the feeling that thousands of troops were pouring forth from our established defenses, but I could only hear bolters and the occasional flamer. A hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me backward. A melta gun fired next to me, burning a deep hole in the Abomination who was now screeching in pain and anguish as bolter fire slowly reduced it to bloody chunks. The wave of rats that exploded out of its body, the last dirty trick of something so unholy, never left the carcass as bolter round explosions ripped them apart. "Extra ecclesiam, nulla sallus. Extra laborem, nulla puritas. Extra bellum, nulla victoria. Extra Imperatorem, nihil." The same powerful voice that called on the bolters to fire was now reciting the prayer of Dusthaven. "Purify the remains in holy fire!" "Outside the church, no stone. Outside work, no purity. Outside war, no victory. Outside the Emperor, nothing." I mumbled in low gothic as I was dragged backward, the meltagun in the person''s hand firing mercilessly into the once more collapsing abomination. "You are almost as skillful as you are reckless. Engaging in melee with a beast like that is something that should be reserved for the Astartes! I do not know what manner of luck shielded you until we could reach the frontline, but a man of lesser station would have been left to suffer the defeat you were staring down!" The stranger was admonishing me while still dragging me along, back behind the line of troops and combat engineers I had brought forward, and I noticed they had been reinforced. Sisters of battle in their powered armor had joined the ranks and were dealing quick death with their bolters and flamers, and the helpit abomination was now little more than a burning pile of corrupted flesh and broken crude machinery. I managed a good look at the person dragging me, and even if he had not been wearing the classical witch hunter hat, the large book carrying the mark of the Inquisition that was chained to his hip, the power sword next to it, and the melta gun in his hand told their own story.