Nearly 8 hours later, I had received word that Archimedes would begin initial work during the warp travel, my ships were ready, and everything and everyone were packed away as safely as we could get. I had a final report of our actions and my planned route sent to the Prescience with no need for a reply. I did not inform them of my plans to change an armed freighter, but that was not critical knowledge either. Knowing we had followed procedure and prepared for warp travel was just good form from my side of things, as well as a lifeline should we not be heard from again in the foreseeable future. When that was done, I gave the final order, and my small fleet made its way to the outer edge of the system as a general safety precaution and made the first jump.
The Vigilance Quadrex was not far away, a week's travel at most, but I spent a lot of that time becoming familiar with my new chainsword. I trained with it, alongside the most seasoned instructors my ships had to offer, and all of them had differing advice on the pros and cons of the weapon. Despite the weight, it was very well balanced, making it extremely viable in actual melee combat, and not just a tool for intimidation. But the increased weight also meant that I would be slower and not have the ability to abort an attack once committed. Missing outright instead of being parried or blocked left me wide open for a follow-up counterattack. But if I deflected an attack, I had the luxury of being able to do the same to my opponent with devastating effect. These training sessions, I decided, were now part of my daily routine, and I found that the downtime during warp travel left me generous amounts of time to train, leading my chain weapons skill to rise to 7 before we arrived at our first destination.
I had also spent time thinking about ways to avoid docking, so I could keep any genestealer attempts from reaching my ship to an absolute minimum, and I would hide behind the excuse that I only needed the materials for ship modifications. I ordered one of the armed freighters set up as a temporary mobile trade hub, allowing the nobles and local guild leaders to come and browse my rather extensive inventory of wooden furniture and toys for the children of obscenely wealthy individuals. I needed to sell out, but I also needed information on what lay ahead, so I sent invitations to the local trade merchants before the nobles. A gesture that would not go unnoticed, and would most certainly make dealing with said, now rather disgruntled, nobles all the more difficult, but I didn't care. I needed rumors, whispers, secrets, and more that only the merchants and voidfarers knew about. My master of whispers was as delighted as he was swamped with work, but he relished the tsunami of information his agents gathered while the merchants and guild leaders strolled around the improvised basar where my rather exaggerated security measures made them feel all the more important on account of my instructions to treat guests with the utmost respect, even if they were out of line. To be respectful but firm with the merchants, to treat them only slightly worse than nobility. The self-absorbed idiots thought I did it to look out for their interests.
Of course, the truth was, I did it to prevent anyone from the numberless entourages from slipping into the bowels of the ship and starting the groundwork needed for a genestealer cult. I would not have it in my fleet, and a few people were indeed found and stopped before entering maintenance areas where they could have disappeared with ease. I did nothing more than have them returned to their patron with a new personal guard assigned to them for the duration of their stay. As soon as the word spread among the merchants of these measures, such attempts ceased to be a problem, but I still demanded ever more vigilance. I made great profits, bordering on the obscenely disgusting. A carved wooden chair sold for more than most citizens would earn in their lifetime, while the price of a matching dining set could feed a hive city for a full month. My purser was sitting at a grand business table, signing document after document with a smile that kept getting bigger and bigger. The old crone was happy for the first time since I had stepped foot on the ship, and the looks she glanced my way when she thought I wasn't aware told me she had found a new respect for me.
She had thought I was a witless soldier fixated on creating a legacy of going down in a blaze of glory on some backwater in the middle of the big unknown outside Imperial space. But the profits we were making now more than made up for all the expenses I had incurred so far. I would dare say I saw her smile if I didn't already believe that to be an impossibility; her face was permanently clocked into the scowl of a genuinely displeased office clerk. But she was signing with flourishes, grand hand gestures, and gracious movements when engaging the next deal.
I learned a great deal by spearheading some of the sales talks with the merchants dressed in a more flashy and garish manner. Some of them were downright gaudy, the extreme colours and obscene number of jewels spoke their language of the people behind the clothes, but the merchant fleets under their commands had rumors from all over the Imperium, and my questions about our current destination received grim answers. Dead and dying worlds far from the light of the Throne, locked in wars with remnant foes from the Dark Age of Technology. Asartes' fleets stretched thin and, while effective when arriving, did not have enough forces to cover the area effectively. That would explain the presence of the deathwatch not far from here, and the very surprising willingness to accept my offer in scouting ahead for them. It made sense, but it also worried me. Things would have to be bad out there for me to be so lucky.
One of the merchants caught my personal interest, an older man, lean and wiry built, with clothes more pragmatic than fancy, despite the high-quality materials and make of them. His face had battle scars, and his hands had calluses in places much the same as mine, meaning he was a fighting man. Speaking to him revealed that he was a former Astra Militarum Captain, with experience specifically in the company command squad. We talked at length, and an idea formed in me while we did, causing me to extend him a generous discount in return for some of his most senior training personel with this particular skillset. He inquired out of curiosity why I wanted them, and I indulged him. I wanted to create not just a company command squad, but one for every 3 sergeant-at-arms under my command, which was quite a few. With my freighters and my flagship, I could field around 50.000 troops at any given point, which gave me 2500 sergeants-at-arms in command of 20 voidsmen each. So I needed at least 834 company command squads to make this a reality, but I had my reasons.
The company command squad was the anchor from which orders were issued. The common Imperial strategy was to have a single one of these squads for every half million troops. Which, in theory, was a good thing when you fought on a planetary scale. But if you spared the resources to micromanage, to add that extra level of administration and leadership to ensure proper absorption and dispersal of information in a combat scenario, you would have much more fluid forces, transforming your massive frontline into individual and carefully monitored engagements that could be handled effectively. He balked at my idea initially, but as I explained further, he began to reluctantly agree, the now-soldier-turned-merchant worrying about the significant cost. I couldn't help but fix him with a hard stare after that comment.
"What about the cost to the Imperium of using inferior combat tactics?" The question hung in the air as the merchant and the soldier struggled, but duty still won out in the end.
"No price is too high to ensure the glory of the Imperium!" he stated before giving me a crisp salute, which I returned, before we moved our attention back to business dealings. I later learned from my master of whispers that he was known as unapproachable by most of the other merchants because of his sense of duty before profit, so for him to salute me publicly after having casual conversation with me only helped cement the emerging reputation as a Trader Militant I had begun gaining through my actions.
The nobles were a different visit entirely. If they hadn't been so infatuated with the things I had put aside, specifically items with no real use other than showing off obscene wealth, wooden sculptures of Imperial saints, carvings of Imperial shrines and holy sites, intricate wooden puzzles for both children and adults. They were delighted to slowly browse and observe before the auction that was held, instead of the regular business dealings I had with the merchants. Another way of appeasing the nobles, make them feel like only they could afford this style of bidding. The psychology of the different class groups within the Imperium was easy to exploit as they were stereotypical, but there were always outliers. Intelligent people, and in my case, the possibility of other people connected to the system.
I did not get the Impression, but the chance was always there, and while the nobles were fawning over my goods, I lounged in a small area with refreshments and delicacies cooked up for the occasion, treated like a drop-off area for husbands while the wives went to spend their fortunes. As a result, I had to entertain said husbands, most of which were extremely experienced politicians buerocrats who all saw me as a scoundrel, a bum from the rank-and-file soldiers who had no place among them, and I played the role accordingly, wearing great boots, an eye-catching red shirt made of the finest silk I had been able to scrounge from Slud's former governors stores. A thick leather vest covered my chest, and the sleeves of my silk shirt had been carefully rolled up. My blue greatcoat was standing next to my chair with the moment of oath now properly attached to it, encased in a sheet of transparent plastek, for the sake of protecting it during the visit. It drew its fair share of attention, especially after the first few people recognized the seal of the Imperial fists, and the mumbling of the nobles that gathered in front of it was like music to my ears. A rogue trader with Astartes connections was a man no one wanted as an enemy.
I deliberately put a few bottles of cheaper amasec on the table and made sure to only fill my glass from said bottles, bringing the first one to the small table next to my chair, as soon as I had greeted everyone and opened the small 'auction'. With the deathworlder body I had inhabited, the battle scars I had earned along the way, and the new chainsword secured to my hip, I fully lived up to every expectation they had of me, and they treated me as such. A dumb soldier who got lucky. Their wives fawned when I told stories about the fights I had been in, from orks to heretical scum and new xenos species, and their husbands hated every second. One of the younger nobles, no older than 19 or 20, kept eyeing my chainsword while strutting his powersword, and I felt I could poke him a little. Rising from my seat, I grabbed my cup and strolled over to him.
"Greetings, young Lord. I hope you and your honored house are having a pleasant time on board my humble vessel?" I greeted him and took a small sip of cheap amasec. To his honor, he didn't wrinkle his nose in disgust but kept a polite smile on his face.
"We find ourselves in good company." He said a bit cooly, his lack of comment on the accommodations told me he was displeased.
"Good. I couldn't help but notice your sword. Fine quality." I remarked, and it was. Masterfully crafted with obvious attention to the detailed ornamentation. A beautiful weapon, but one better suited for ceremonies than actual combat. "But I suspect it would be unbalanced in a proper fight."
The area around us fell silent. I had called the young noble pampered and spoiled, to his face, and if his sputtering, combined with the efforts of an older man to intervene in the situation, was anything to go by, he had taken it to heart.
Before the man who could only be his father made his way over to us, and the young noble could answer, a young woman spoke up. "Peace, young Lord Silvermaul, for certain the Lord Captain meant no offence, and spoke only as a soldier would speak. We should not judge him for his lack of upbringing, only the purity of his soul." The approaching woman had raven black hair and almost emerald green eyes, her clothes worn in the same cut as the high-born nobles on Terra currently did. So she was from an old, powerful, and extremely well-connected noble house. And she was a psyker. I didn't even need my abilities to deduce that, the aura of purity and gentleness she exuded could only be the result of warp shenanigans.
"A soldier I am indeed, young Lady, a simple PDF trooper by origin if you would believe it." For some reason, I felt the need to be on guard in her presence, she had an intensity in her eyes I had only seen one time before. When the heretical system user tried to initiate contact with me, almost revealing my true nature. She stared at me the same way he had done, and despite it being a brief moment, the memory had burned itself into my brain. And now I was seeing it again. This girl was dangerous.
"Young lady Malthikius." The noble called Silvermaul gave a formal bow while I reached out and took her hand, kissing it gently. The fire in the young man's eyes did not escape me.
"Such a bold gesture from a man who still reeks of blood, battle, and betrayal. I am not certain I find the company agreeable. What do you say, young Lord Silvermaul?" She smiled as she spoke, the glint in her eyes betraying the true intentions of her words. She was trying to keep the young noble from making a mistake he would regret.
"I apologise if I offended you, young Lady, but young master Silvermail was just about to regale me with the finer points as to why an overly decorated sword is superior to one built for efficiency," I interjected before the young man could answer and he squirmed under my question for a few seconds before she decided to save him once more.
"You boys and your toys of war. If you will excuse us, Lord Captain, I have to discuss some family-related business with young Lord Silvermaul." She smiled sweetly as she pulled him away, and I saw the father of the young man wipe his forehead with a silk handkerchief before making his way over to me.
"Greetings, Lord Captain. I apologise for my son's hot temper, but he is a very proud young man." He began, a cautious entry into the conversation.
"I have seen many a proud young man die screaming on the battlefield. And I have seen many a humble young man live through the same engagements. If I can teach him a lesson, even an unwilling one, then I have done the Imperium good on this day. I meant no disrespect, Lord Silvermaul, but your son needs to humble himself, and quickly, if he is to survive his first engagement. My guess is you are putting him in a position for a role as a major. If he does badly, execution or even death by his troops awaits him. I would hate to see a promising young life wasted because of something as stupid as hubris." I turned my eyes away from the aging man, locking them on his son as I spoke, and the harshness in his eyes disappeared. He knew I spoke the truth, but he was also a proud man. He would not say thank you, nor did I expect him to.
"Follow me." I gestured to Lord Silvermaul, and he did so hesitantly. I reached underneath the seat set up for me and procured a simple wooden box. I opened it toward the old noble, and inside was a necklace and matching earrings of flawless diamonds and sapphires, mixed in with polished amber. While not priceless, it was rare and prohibitively expensive, taken from the same stores on Slud when I was governor. I had stated before that such baubles held no value to me, and I had spoken the truth. Giving them away in this manner would serve me better. You could never be too well-known for generosity. It made people feel obligated to help you, so they didn't miss out.
"Take this to present as a gift to your wife, a token of the sincerity of my words and intentions, Lord," I said and closed the box before handing it over to him. He was not an insignificant figure within the complex circles of nobility, but I still left him befuddled. Rogue traders were not known for their generosity. What did I care, it was technically stolen property made legal through privateering. No sweat off my back. He was still searching for the right words when I left him behind to mingle with the other nobles, a small breach of courtesy he would surely allow. The young woman, Lady Malthikius, had returned while I had been busy, and she made her way over to me.
"The young Lord Silvermaul is easy to infuriate. His pride, while well-placed and fully earned, unfortunately, feels hollow to him. The young Lord feels that the only honor and glory that matters is to be found on the battlefield." She said quietly as she began filling a goblet from the table of refreshments.
"Be careful with the 'wobble'. It is stronger than it suggests, despite its pleasant flavor." I muttered as I saw the bottle she was pouring from. I had no idea how it had gotten there, but maybe the crew thought I would appreciate it. They knew I had a fondness for the taste, and the vitamin boost was never a bad thing when you travelled as much in space as a rogue trader did. Wobble was the fermented result of the Ploin fruit, nicknamed thus because of the fruit's tendency to wobble when placed upright, and the effect of the drink.
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"What a curious name for a drink. How come I have never heard of it?" Her interest seemed to be genuine, so she deserved a genuine answer.
"I wouldn't expect a lady of your upbringing to need the Ploin fruit. We use it to combat many diseases that come with a poor or restricted diet while travelling the void. The beverage you are now pouring is a brew fermented aboard my ship into a potent alcoholic drink. You could call it lower class, but it is the comfort of necessity. We live on ships with few spare resources and fewer places to create areas to exploit them efficiently. My niche position specifically is even more limited, as we must carry our troops and equipment with us, venturing into the unknown to spread the light of the Emperor to the unenlightened." Everything I said was true and available information condensed into layman's terms, but she still looked fascinated as ever. If I hadn't already known her to be a psyker and a possible system user, she would have been able to dominate the conversation. It was too easy to relax in her company.
"How interesting. Compared to the dull life of a noble, it must be a dream come true, to travel the stars and find new worlds for the Imperium." She exclaimed with a dreamy look in her eyes, but I felt the need to shut this conversation down.
"For the Emperor. Not the Imperium. The Imperium is beholden to the Emperor, not the other way around." I corrected her, and the sparkle in her eyes gave way to something different. In a moment, she had transformed from a smitten girl blinded by the thought of adventure, to a seasoned politician with a trickster's glint in her eyes.
"Of course, Lord Captain, forgive my expression," She said with a voice that seemed to caress my ears as she spoke. I steeled my mind and imagined a brick wall being built around a mental projection of my brain. It was crude and simple, one of the most basic mental fortification techniques from my own time, but it still worked. It gave the mind something to focus on within itself, keeping it busy from interference. "I was simply caught up in my daydreams." She finished before putting on an innocent face and raising her voice high enough for most of the surrounding people to hear.
"Wouldn't you regale us with a proper soldier's prayer or song, Lord Captain? It would be remiss of me to let such an opportunity go by to get to know the minds of the common soldiery, delivered by a man that served among them." Her words were a mix of praise and insult, and she put me in the spotlight with a request made at volume as the wives of the various nobles joined a chorus of voices pleading to be entertained. From the desperate glances their husbands threw my way, I would be doing them a favor to give them something to talk about for the next few months, but it wasn't until Lady Silvermaul, mother to the young man that had felt insulted by my combat experience, and wife of the noble I had given the necklace, that I surrendered to the peer pressure.
I raised my hands, and the voices died down immediately. "Since the Lady of the honored house of Silvermaul asks, I shall agree to be the entertainment for a short while. But on 2 conditions!" I held up 1 finger. "First, any people who know the song are free to join in, as it works better when you sing as a chorus. And second," I raised a finger next to the first one and paused a second for effect, "I suggest someone gets a pict recording of this, because it will not happen again today." Laughter followed my second condition as several attendants of the various groups of nobles did as asked by their masters and got ready to record. A good joke was always appreciated.
I got in the middle of the room and breathed deeply a few times. "A soldier's song I was asked for, and a soldier's song I will give. A song of unity and duty." I said as every eye focused on me. I had already picked what to sing, a shanty I had heard while I was a PDF trooper. Or at least, it originated as a shanty, but it worked equally well as a marching song, and it was now commonplace among the guards across the galaxy. I stomped my foot and clapped to create a basic rhythm, and the guests quickly picked up on it, allowing me to focus on singing.
"OUR WILL IS UNBROKEN, UNMATCHED BY DESIGN. THE FIRST LINE OF DEFENCE, THE UNBREAKABLE LINE! WE ANSWER TO PARLEY WITH MORTARS AND GUNS! THE ASTRA MILITARUM BOWS ONLY TO ONE!
'TIL THE SKIES TURN TO ASH, AND THE CITIES TO DUST. WE FIGHT FOR THE GOLDEN KING, IN HIM WE TRUST. WITH SUITS MADE OF STEEL, AND HEARTS MADE OF STONE! WE'RE THE SWORD OF MANKIND AND THE FIST OF THE THRONE."
After the first 2 lines of song, the voidsmen and guardsmen I had on guard duty already knew what song it was, and they couldn't help but join in. It was a song of unity and brotherhood, of blade and lasgun. A song of humanity's defiance in the face of a galaxy that hated their existence. The chorus also gave me a chance to test out my new vocal implant, and it worked beyond all expectations, my voice booming out in the improvised basaar, drowning out almost every other noise.
"FOR THE GUARD, FOR THE GUARD, WE ALL STAND AS ONE, WITH LASGUNS HELD HIGH TIL THE BATTLE IS WON. FOR THE GUARD, FOR THE GUARD, MARCH ON TIL WE FALL! THE EMPEROR PROTECTS, AND SO MUST WE ALL! "
Some of the nobles looked shocked, some of the oldest nobles looked like they were reminiscing about their younger days, and others acted like they were witnessing something that had been hidden from them for the longest time. And a select few, the young Lord Silvermaul included, listened with something akin to longing or envy. Perhaps I had been a bit hasty in judging the young man, but his attitude was still rotten. The soldiers on guard had also joined in the improvised beat by slamming a fist into their breastplate in tempo with the rhythm.
WE LAY SIEGE TO THE XENOS NO MATTER THE RISK, WITH BASILISK MANTICORE, LANCES, AND FIST! SENDING BACK CHAOS TO WHERE IT CAME FROM! WE STRIKE DOWN REBELLION AND TREACHEROUS SCUM!
WE'LL CRUSH THE ORK RABBLE, AND THE TYRANID SWARM, LAY WASTE TO THE NECRONS WITH BULLETS WE STORM! FROM KRIEG BACK TO CADIA. THEY FEAR OUR NAME, THE IMPERIAL GUARD, HUMANITY'S FLAME!
As the song went on, the soldiers around us gained confidence in themselves, their voices growing stronger and more confident despite being in a ship full of people who all had the power to see them dead, if they had not been part of my crew. But as it were, they enjoyed the little moment of reversed roles, with the nobles taking the backseat and becoming the silent observers. They stood taller, pulled their shoulders back, and presented themselves as the best possible soldiers they could be.
FOR THE GUARD, FOR THE GUARD, WE ALL STAND AS ONE, WITH LASGUNS HELD HIGH TILL THE BATTLE IS WON. FOR THE GUARD, FOR THE GUARD, MARCH ON TILL WE FALL. THE EMPEROR PROTECTS, AND SO MUST WE ALL!
FOR THE GUARD, FOR THE GUARD, WE ALL STAND AS ONE, WITH LASGUNS HELD HIGH TILL THE BATTLE IS WON. FOR THE GUARD, FOR THE GUARD, MARCH ON TILL WE FALL. THE EMPEROR PROTECTS, AND SO MUST WE ALL!
WE'RE THE SHIELD, WE'RE THE SPEAR, THE IMPERIUM'S SWORD, WE WILL NEVER SHOW FEAR IN HIS HOLY WAR! FOR THE GUARD, FOR THE GUARD, WE'LL ANSWER THE CALL. THE EMPEROR PROTECTS, AND SO MUST WE ALL!!.
As the echo of the last verse died out, the silence that hung over the gathering was so thick it could be cut with a knife. This was most likely the first time in their entire lives that the nobles saw the "commoners" as anything more than an expendable resource. For the first time, they saw them as regular people, no different from the nobles who looked down on them, apart from who birthed them. Each soldier in turn felt seen for the first time, seen by the nobles they were charged to protect, despite being seen as nothing more than mandatory tools of survival by the very some nobles. I had created a moment of unity, where everyone in the room, influential and unimportant, felt equal in the sense that, in the end, they were all humans.
And there, all the way in the back, stood the young Lady Malthikius with unbridled fury burning in her eyes at my success in turning her request of humiliation into an unforgettable moment for all involved. She had wanted me to debase myself, reduce me to nothing more than a puppet dancing at the end of her strings for pure amusement. Instead, I had hammered down that notion and proved myself to be of extraordinary will and wit, declaring the unseen strength of the fighting men and women they all loved to look down upon. My mere presence was proof that anyone could reach the upper circles of Imperial high society, and for a woman who thrived on being superior, this was the gravest insult. By poking at the pride of the regular soldiers, I reminded them that they were only different in status and title, another great insult to anyone reveling in their superiority. Finally, it reminded all nobles gathered that without those common soldiers, they would be masters of nothing.
The look of anger that passed over her eyes when she looked at me was enough to crack the carefully crafted psychic projection she was using to keep her looks flawless, and I saw a glimpse of the real woman beneath. She did have a pretty face, but her features were twisted and spiteful, turning her natural beauty into an ugly mask of malice and scorn. But there was something more, a glint of something I recognized from my reflection in the mirror. That special glint in the eye of someone who was more than they seemed. I was suspicious now, almost convinced she was the same as me. A soul from a different time and place, inhabiting the body of an Imperial citizen. She must have seen the same in me as we locked eyes, because he face changed once more to one of shock and disbelief. Before any of us could react to it, however, the nobles and their entourages broke out in cheer over the performance. All of the wives rushed in with invitations to their next big celebration, and the husbands were mumbling amongst themselves.
I managed to direct the horde of nobles' wives toward an attendant who carefully wrote down the dates of each noble house, hoping I would come visit and perform during times of celebration. As I tried to make my way back to the seat reserved for me, I was intercepted by the elder Lord Silvermaul.
"Lord Captain, you have honored my house on this day," He began, and I knew this would come. By making his wife the reason for my sudden compliance to entertain my guests, I had publicly announced that I supported the house of Silvermaul and considered them honorable enough to point it out. It would set him apart from his peers, making him a man amongst men whenever these nobles got together. "You have shown yourself to be as magnanimous as you are bold, and I wish to inform you that the house of Silvermaul stands behind the Lord Captain." Having the uncontested support of a noble house was never a bad thing; the political pull could always prove useful, but I decided that he was not finished owing me favors.
"Why yes, Lord Silvermaul, I think your wife will be overjoyed by such an extravagant gift," I said loud enough for the noble ladies still competing to get their names at the top of the list of my expected visit, to turn their heads in our direction and a small gesture from me made him reach into a hidden pocket and pull out the small box I had given him earlier. Just like sharks smelling blood in the water, the ladies were exceptionally quick to surround us, with Lord Silvermaul's wife in front. He turned to her and handed her the box. "A small gift to the most beautiful woman present. Its beauty pales next to you, my love, but perhaps you can bring out the true beauty of this little bauble." He said to her as she opened it, and the envious sounds from the surrounding nobles were all the confirmation I needed. I had just made him the most important man here, and his wife the envy of all the other nobles' wives.
I slipped away, but not before he sent me a look of appreciation. There was no better time to give her such a gift than right now, in front of all her peers with whom she competed fiercely to be the most prominent. With that little debacle finally finished, I sat back down in my chair and grabbed my glass, filled it to the brim with the amasec set aside for me, and downed half the glass in a single gulp. It burned all the way down my throat, and I had to fight the urge to cough violently, but it helped me relax again. I had been dancing on the edge of a knife; I could just as well have been laughed off my ship, but I managed to spin it to my advantage. The only issue left was the young lady Malthikius. I had reduced her to a mere background presence, and she was positively seething at this, making no effort to hide it. She did not approach me again, however, and the rest of the auction went as smoothly as one could hope, with bids rising higher and higher for every item.
When the last shuttle was on its way back to the Vigilance Quadrex, I made my way to my purser, who was downright giddy as she studied the overview of the day's business. "If all of your trading adventures go like this, Lord Captain, you will soon have enough wealth to construct your own palace. " The thought was foreign to her; it was plain as day on her face that she thought it an extortionate use and abuse of funds, but rogue traders had a certain reputation, and she was trying to be diplomatic.
"As nice as that sounds, this is my palace. My ship is where I belong, and the money would be better spent improving the conditions, productivity, and prosperity of the people under my responsibility, both ships and planets. Rich citizens can pay generous taxes, and well-fed workers can produce more and better." I replied, and I meant it. I had no desire to lounge in a palace while I grew fat on the tithes of people. Such a prospect only filled me with disgust. I was not suited for a life and leisure and debauchery; I wanted home, and I wanted it sooner rather than later.
Lady Malthikius haunted my thoughts, though, the possibility of her being a system user as well as positively being a psyker made her a potentially very dangerous individual. And I had done something unforgivable. I made her presence at the auction redundant, reducing her to a background character. She would not forgive me, but then again, she was the one who started it by trying to make me look like a fool. I simply repaid the greeting in kind.
But an enemy I had made, and a politically inclined one. So my first real journey into the unknown had to last until I found something worth bringing back, worth more than the angry accusations of a vindictive noble. Sure, I had another house behind me, but I liked the idea of having an ace up my sleeve in the form of unclaimed favors. It was a thing I used back in my world as well. I didn't mind helping people out, and I always refused cash payment. A favor is much more valuable, as its value is more of a rough estimate, and I get to keep the claim until it is used. Not by written agreement or anything else, other than people's desire to keep their name and reputation clear of blemishes. It had worked a treat back then and would certainly come in just as handy, if not more, here in the Imperium.
The purser gave me the briefest of strange looks, but bowed her head submissively. "Your will be done, Lord Captain." She said and began packing her documents carefully to have them stored away in her archives. She had the digital signatures as well, but in the Imperium, a piece of parchment with a physical signature counted a thousand times over in terms of legal evidence, compared to digital signatures that could be forged with relative ease.
With the day's business complete, I could retreat to my flagship, get in a few hours of sparring to clear my mind and use the pent-up energy that had accumulated during the day, and go to sleep. When I woke up, there was a preliminary report from my master of whispers waiting on my personal dataslate, granting me a rough outline of what lay ahead of us. I summoned Farsyn, and we spent a few hours going back and forth on where to go from here. Things got rather heated, but in the end, he accepted my decision to keep going southeast on the galactic map, despite the lack of, well, anything really, that the Imperium knew of. My goal was Gellephera, a former Hive world reduced to a planet of metal at the end of the Great Crusade. Imperial records only showed it was a human colony that had attempted to assassinate Horus, back when he was still the Warmaster of the Emperor.
But I knew the truth: the planet had been an exceptionally well-developed world in terms of technology, created with the help of a fully functional STC. When Horus learned of this, he immediately went on the extreme offensive, gunning down the planet's leader and his honor guard who were guests on his ship, before laying waste to the planet below, all in the name of 'self-defence' after he claimed their leader had attempted to assassinate him. I was under no illusion that an STC fragment would be there, but if I was lucky, there were still bits and pieces of technology to salvage on the planet. Technology back from the height of Imperial might and scientific understanding. It was as good a place as any to start, and should be a fairly safe destination for my first official planetfall expedition on a dead world. It would give the crew some trust in my ability to function in my actual job, and not just as an Imperial agent. That I could handle venturing into the somewhat unknown and come out on top.
I had also received a few messages from the system, none that warranted haste judging from the color of the tiny blink, but I still opened them to see what this was about.
Achievement unlocked: Perfomer. Having stood up in front of a crowd successfully, and entertained without fail, is never an easy thing to do. effective range of Prayer of absolution extended to 150 ft.
Achievement unlocked: Agitator. Creating enemies among the nobility of the Imperium is never smart. It is even worse when said people are also connected to the system. Feat unlocked: Instigator. By targeting people with chosen insults you can incite boiling anger in any human or variation thereof.
Huh. Not quite what I was expecting, but who was I to turn away a new feat and a range increase to my battlefield prayer.
The day passed in the final preparations, charging the gellar field generators, preparing the warp drive, Farsyn doing his navigator thing in his sanctum, all went according to plan and schedule. But I was uneasy. The entire day, I had been able to feel a pull on my consciousness, the gentlest of tugging positioned right in the area that had felt sore after my psychic awakening during my encounter with Tzeentch. Someone, or something, was trying to get my attention. I messed around with the system again but didn't find anything that could explain it. On a hunch, I opened the messages and saw a new one that was missing the ping I usually got from the arrival of a message. It was a simple, short, and very unsettling one.
SYSTEM ADMIN MEETING ARRANGED. AWAITING MEETING OPENING.
I had no idea what it was supposed to mean or what a system admin even was. But there was only room in my mind for a single thought, 3 small words. What. The fuck.
