The Prince of Profit (Star Wars x 40k/Rogue Trader)

[Kadaeux]

Prologue;
The Breaking

​

When the Cicatrix Maledictum broke the galaxy, its extents were far reaching and with far greater consequences than anyone could have truly imagined. The Subsector Hydraxius, named for the Rogue Trader Dynasty that both founded it and called it home, near to the Halo Stars themselves found itself engulfed in a warp storm of monumental proportions unseen since the time before the Emperor. Perhaps not since the Eye of Terror itself had ripped its way into the universe. On this point scholars across the Dynasty have come to unanimous conclusion.

That nobody has a fething clue what the hell it was. But there was no devouring of the sector by hordes of daemons pouring from unreality to fuck and eat whatever they could reach. Only a blinding golden light guarding them, and the warp storm receding. It is from this point that these annals are recorded. Praise be the Emperor it was a matter of question whether these words and light would ever see the galaxy of our births.

We found ourselves estranged in a galaxy unfamiliar, in a time that the Astropaths and Navigators are certain far precedes our own. A warp on the edge of being becalmed with how little it is influenced. It is here we begin this tale. But ware not reader, though we have our share of battles these tomes are not about military conquest or turning an entire galaxy to the dominion of man, nay for we were too few to commit so openly.

This is a tale of man proving his rightful mastery of the galaxy by convincing the weak minded, weak willed, and those with an insufficient grasp on their wallets to turn over their wealth and power to use on their own accord.

That will be three and a half thrones for this part of the tale. You can purchase additional chapters for nineteen point nine nine thrones, or an additional week servitude.

 

[Kadaeux]

House Von Hydraxius​

Current Master of House Von Hydraxius;

Arthurius Nelson Allenby Wolseley Von Hydraxius

Current Mistress of House Von Hydraxius;

Gwendolyn Diana Montcroix Von Hydraxius.

Eligible Heirs of House Von Hydraxius in order of succession.

Armand Stirling Wolseley Von Hydraxius
Vanessa Ashburnum Wolseley Von Hydraxius
Eleanora Pierpont Wolseley Von Hydraxius
Isaac Covington Wolseley Von Hydraxius
Humphrey Lyndon Montcroix

Notable Figures in service to the House Von Hydraxius

Seneschal Primus; Margaretta Greaves Marfont
Seneschal Secundus; Samuel Montcroix
Seneschal Tertius; Hector Westwood La-Minnings
Navigator Novator; Sylvia Emeline Anworth Damon-Cowles
Astropath Transcendant; Edwin 'snuffles' Livingstone
Fabricator General; Praxis Dominarius van der ArcForge
Explorator Magos; Basilicus Corax
Master of the Fleet; Archibald Castigatus von Wolseley
Lord Governor; Edmund Haig
Lord Governor; Xeriox Apocspety
Lord Governess; Lilliana Morgan
Lord Governess; Phoebe McKormick von Calliwell
Lord Governor; Albert Beaumont May-Porter

Unofficial Retainers to House Von Hydraxius

Aeldari Ranger; Amothanil
Aeldari Ranger; Maudavar
Aeldari Corsair Captain; Celdona
Demiurg Captain; Thorhall Hrappsson
Kroot Shaper-Captain; Plok Hra
Jokaero; Tinkertek
Cryptek; Apo'phis

Worlds of the Von Hydraxius Dynasty

Memoria Terrae formerly Bombastus Primus;

Hive world, Capital City 'Emperor Resplendant' total population 184 Billion.
Governor; Edmund Haig​

Tanakred;

Forge World, Capital City 'Sprocketus Spacely' total population 132.4 Billion.
Servitor population 185.9 Billion
Governor; Xerios Apocspety​

Markesh;

Imperial World; Capital City 'Landersfall', total population 13 Billion
Governor: Lilliana Morgan​

Naesong;

Agri-World; Capital City 'Plenty', total population 150 Million
Governor; Pheobe McKormick von Calliwell​

Bloodstone;

Agri-World; Capital City 'Glorydawn', total population 1.2 Billion
Governor; Albert Beaumont May-Porter
Bloodstone has a significant Mechanicus Biologis Facility on its southern Polar Cap.​

Fleet of the Von Hydraxius Dynasty

Flagship; Corinus class Grand Cruiser 'Rapturous Glory of Profit for the Throne of Man.'

Capital Ship Fleet;

Mars Class Battlecruiser; "Legal Salvage"
Gothic Class Cruiser; "Excessive Gravitas"
Dictator Class Cruiser; "Nothing There Sir"
Dictator Class Cruiser; "It's One Of Ours"
Lunar Class Cruiser; "Just Another Transport"
Conquest Class Star Galleon; "Free Trade Gambit"
Dauntless Class Light Cruiser: "Might of Ambition"
Dauntless Class Light Cruiser: "Folly of Resistance"
Secutor Class Monitor-Cruiser: "Perfection of Pi"
Lathe Class Monitor Cruiser: "Fractal Mathematics"
Endeavour Class Light Cruiser: "Cheap Trick"
Defiant Class Light Cruiser: "Discounted"​

Escort Squadrons;

Deathwalkers ; 4 Cobra Class Destroyers
Seekers of Purity : 8 Viper Class Scout Sloops
Plundering Intent : 2 Hazeroth Class Privateers
Hellbreakers : 3 Meritech Shrike-Class Raiders
Pirates Bane : 4 Iconoclast Class Destroyers
Black Fang : 3 Sword Class Frigates
White Fang : 3 Sword Class Frigates
Red Fang : 3 Firestorm Class Frigates
Quiet Strike : 3 Tempest Class Strike Frigates
Thundering Wake : 3 Falchion Class Frigates​

Transport Fleet:

5 Universe Class Mass Conveyors ;
"The Long Haul" "Evergreens Folly" "Testament to Size" "The Singing Lady" "Profit from Hubris"
3 Goliath Class Factory Ships;
"Xenotechnica" "Hereteks Bane" "Secret of Steel"
2 Loki-Class Q-Ships:
"A Sheep in Wolfs Clothing" "At Least a Little Gravitas"
23 Vagabond Class Merchant Traders
Individual names not recorded. Only Hull Numbers.
29 Carrack Class Transports
Individual names not recorded. Only Hull Numbers.
2 Orion Class Star Clippers
"Hermes" "Mercury"
1 Jericho Class Pilgrim Vessel
"Saint Margarine"​

Allied Vessels:

Solaris Class Light Cruiser ; "Aethyrium"
Demiurg Stronghold ; "Rock and Stone"
Kroot Warsphere ; "Krek'Nyuum"
Necron Shroud Light Cruiser ; "Ushabti"​

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 1;
A Record of Change

"My Lord Von Hydraxius, the warp storm has subsided. We have cast the auguries and the astropathic choirs have been wailing into the dark to assemble what we know so far. We have been displaced approximately three million lightyears from our home galaxy. From what we can determine, the majority of the Subsector Hydraxius was transposed with us. All fleet elements have confirmed affirmitive contact." The Lady Margaretta Greaves Marfont, the lead Seneschal of the Von Hydraxius dynasty intoned in perfect clipped tones that left no chance to mistake her words for anything more or less than she intended.

The tertiary audience chamber on the Rapturous Glory of Profit for the Throne of Man was one of its more modest, only a hundred and fifty metres from fore to aft and fifty from port to starboard, even its ceilings were a modest thirty metres high, the metal ribs and rafters strung with lighting. This was a chamber intended to host more cosy affairs with only the most essential of the Dynasty's personnel. Rogue Trader Arthurius Nelson Allenby Wolseley von Hydraxius cut an impressive figure.

Six and a half feet tall, well muscled, his apparent early middle age belied his actual age of near a hundred and sixty years, that his eyes were sharp as he studied the data rolling down the dataslate in his hands left nobody there under any illusion that he was not listening to them. He heard their words perfectly. "I take it that our navigational data is effectively worthless beyond the Subsector itself?"

The voice of Novator Sylvia Emeline Anworth Damon-Cowles came across the vox speakers. Her image not presented for risk of offending those present with her mutations. The voice was synthesised, whether partially or completely was unknown. "That is correct Lord Captain Hydraxius. Our warp maps are of no use past the subsectors edges, and even within it they are effected by the becalmed nature of the warp here. Travel should be swift and without significant danger, but we have not mapped out the region."

This time it was answered by the matriarch of the House, Lady Gwendolyn Diana Montcroix Von Hydraxius, the Rogue Traders wife. She looked at least ten years junior to her husband, but those who knew better knew that a noticeable accounting went into the rejuvenat that produced such an effect given she was in fact almot thirty years his senior. "Art, its going to be somewhat difficult to pay our tithes, but perhaps this is an opportunity."

"Basilicus? What does the Mechanicus have to offer in this... trying time?" Arthurius asked turning towards the heavily augmented.

"An egg?" The Magos responded to the confusion of most present, though Arthurius chuckled lightly. "I have had contact with the Fabricator General of Tanakred, he is most baffled by the transpiring of events as we all are and has nothing to directly contribute at this time. I used some time to send out messages to the Administratum heads on our worlds and have requested a full tally and accounting of population and assets, including a detailed census, though as you well know it is unlikely we will obtain accurate figures for Bombastus Primus or Tanakred, margin of error for population figures may be up to eight or even nine figures."

Arthurius nodded once more, turning back to the Novator. "Can your house navigate and seek out new routes and worlds in this galaxy?"

"I see no reason why we would not be able to fulfil such a task, though we may not have the same capacity for speed without the familiar ground." She answered.

"Admiral Castigatus," He turned to a man in a well tailored uniform, it was not an Imperial Navy uniform, though it was modelled on one. It had been retailored to the black and red of House Hydraxius and bore gold braiding in recognition of the Emperor. "Prepare the Seekers of Purity squadron. I want them operating in pairs to explore the nearest systems we can find. Livingstone, please ensure that the Seekers of Purity have some of our finest astropaths on board. A choir of no less than three."

Arthurius turned to the Captain of his flagship, "Captain Toufexis, please ensure that the 'Throne' is ready for departure with the Legal Salvage and Excessive Gravitas and her attendant escort squadrons. The good Admiral will be busy overseeing the reports from the Seekers of Purity. Any further questions?"

There, it seemed, was. One major one. "My Lord, majesty of the dawn, light upon all you touch, the sole reason we continue to enjoy our existence, the architect of our lives, saint of the God Emperor himse..."

"Lord Governor Haig, this is not a formal setting, so either you have found a font of sudden inexplicable faith, or you are about to ask a question you know I am not going to like. What is it, and please no more dissembling. Speak it straight or keep that utterly magnificent beard of yours shut." The words came out as a good natured reprimand, especially since the Lord Governor was as severely cleanshaven as it could get, as was his head, his eyebrows and more. Indeed, the Lord Governor took chemical baths formulated to ensure not a single hair violated his flesh.

That incongruity between what was said and what he looked like elicited chuckles. And... in an act that puzzled none of them, he took a crop off of his hip and struck himself twice with it across the back. Flagellating himself for his error. "We are shorn from the light of the emperor, cast beyond his light into a place where his breath has never reached. How can I pray to a god who has not even drawn breath on Terra. How can I seek guidance from he who is not as yet there!?" The man almost positively wailed.

That made the Rogue Trader hesitate and step over to the man. Clasping his shoulders, the man drew in a near religious breath at the honour of being touched. An honour he only rarely experienced on formal occasions. "My dear Lord Governor. We were not cast out from the Emperors light, we were cast out sheltered within it, the calamitous warp harmed not a hair upon our heads, daemons set not one foot upon vessel or world of our dominion. We were swept up by the Emperors hand and cast into the dark to bear his name to alien skies, further than ever before. We are not bereft of the Emperor's light. We are awaiting the time when it shines once more down upon us with our saviours rebirth. We await him."

The Governors eyes blazed with fervour. "We await him." he breathed heavily.

"Go, make sure our people on Bombastus Primus hear the message. Bring them the light of the Emperor awaiting." The Governor took the words offered kindly as a command. Stepped back and prostrated himself before flogging his own back thirteen times in repentence for his doubt, once for each of the High Lords of Terra and once for the Emperor himself. As the great doors sealed behind him, closed by the Ogryns who guarded that entrance, Arthurius breathed out a sigh. "Fuck I hate zealots."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Colo Dangon worked for the cartels, and had ever since he had learned how to pilot a ship, and now the YT-1300 he called hom was being used in the most common way that such vessels were. He was carrying a cargo of things he shouldn't to people he shouldn't at a time and place he really shouldn't. But if he didn't get the Hutt's their product, his underwriters in the Pykes would use his guts for garlands.

Rumours of some sort of dozens of lightyears wide storm coming and going was just that, yet more stories and he didn't have time for anything like that. And as he throttled back from the second-last leg of his hyperspace jumps to the edge of the Tatoo system he expected clear skies. And sighed a big sigh of relief at the realisation that all was as he expected, he went into low power mode as he headed aft to get himself something to eat before making the final leg. An excellent meal for a Rodian on the move, but something... "I've got a bad feeling about this..." He said holding the packet prior to putting it into the cooker. "No.. not this..." He put it in the cooker and closed the door, stabbing the buttons for its cooking time.... and ran for the cockpit, his variation of the YT-1300 had the cockpit on the port side of the ship, and it was quite fortunate it did, the hull of his craft blocked out the impossible light that filled space nearby somewhere to starboard.

He slammed his ass down in the seat and studied the displays as the light faded away... "No way." He kicked the roll and the YT-1300 flipped ninety degrees on its axis and he looked up out of the cockpit windows. Not more than eight hundred kilometres away two vessels were there, about the size of a Munificent class star Frigate. It's heavy looking prow sat like a spike on a relatively short hull before reaching what was the engine sections, and more than half of that ship was engine section.

His ships systems flickered as both ships fired out an active pulse of some sort that swept deep in system. Both of them flaring like unchained stars a moment later as their drives came online. "What in a Siths nuts are those? And whose?"

He raised his own ships systems from a quiet standby and studied his own sensors for a moment as, against his better judgement he plotted the next leg in his course that would get him into orbit over Tatooine. His meal forgotten as another pulse came from the two ships and crashed over his ship. He was so close. And with a moment of near panic he cast forwards the lever on the console and hurtled to the planet before him.

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 2;
First Encounter

The strange vessels heading for Tatooine was nothing unique on its own. The fact that they had accelerated to terrifying velocities from the edge of the system before beginning their deceleration for a close pass of the planet. The pulses of their sensor systems rang out across the stars, washing the system with scanning energy of surprising potency. Colo Dangon wondered if they even had Hyperdrives, who would come in from the systems edge like this?

He made the mistake of voicing that concern to his current drinking partner. A Duros who only answered on monosyllables or dismissive grunts, and one with an exhalation from the other end. But the phrase actually seemed to have sparked an interest from what he thought was a half dead human. Turns out they were just pissed, they sat up and adjusted the cap on their head. "Sounds a bit like they're prospectin' ta me."

Colo blinked. "Prospecting?"

"Shootin out sensing pulses, powful ones too. My prospector the Chatty Lady has a perty good sensy sweet. Can find moisture d'posits under the surface. Well the Chatty Lady has been pickin up those sensy pulses from the ships. Says they're fierce powerful doo-dads. Could find a metal deposit 'neath a mountain. Water in the deeps. Count the warts on yer behind if they wuz in orbit and pointed em square down at us." That actually seemed to interest the Duros, who despite having done his level best to make himself unwelcome to Colo, made himself available to the prospector.

"Sensor pulses... a survey team? This green haemorhhoid said that his ship said they came from some sort of spatial phenomena. Perhaps an exploration group?" The words rolled, many of them having more than one syllable! Colo felt offended.

"Mebbe? Kinda weird to survey us no?" The prospector said.

The Duros shrugged. "Kinda weird ships no?" He looked up at the screen where telescopes had focussed hard on the approaching ships. They couldn't understand the language written on the bows of the vessels. They could see that the script writ large on both was the same. The Seekers of Purity. They understood the smaller text underneath on both vessels. One was the Callid 01. The other Mordor 02.
The ships appeared almost as works of art. In parts they were astonishing, wrought with intricate detail and incredible frescoes and even statuary. In others they were ugly and brutalist, function overtaking form. But as yet, there had been no messaging from them. They simply accelerated and entered into a short, fast orbit. There was a significant amount of tension over the next four hours as they completed a full orbit, hammering the surface of the world with their sensor pings. And thne, as quickly as it began they plied on the acceleration and shot back out system.

Vessels fluttered like a disturbed nest away from Tatooine, many to their cartel masters, others to family or friends who lived out-system, some to the Confederacy and yet more, to the Republic.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The sitting room was quiet, a roaring fire in the stone hearth as a pair of massive canids slept close to the heat, it was not a false fireplace as some poorer Rogue Traders might employ, sandstone and promethium burners, this as a true fireplace, marble quarried from Terra and shipped in the Dark Age of Technology recovered by an explorator expedition to a dead world. The wood burning within was from an extinct world, Tanith, the scent of Nalwood filling the chamber with a beautiful pine scent. Gwendolyn and Arthurius both sat there enjoying good books, both various volumes of Sebastian Thor's writings. It was thus that the door opened and a young woman, almost the mirror of her mother, flowed into the room with her older brother. Both dressed in the noble styles to be expected of their station.

"Father." Armand and Vanessa said simultaneously. Twins.

He smiled at them as he kept reading. "Yes?"

The two siblings looked at one another. "Isaac returned on the Callid." Their youngest brother was the Captain of that vessel and had operational command of the squadron. Neither Armand or Vanessa was currently in command of a vessel, being educated in the higher elements of the Dynasty in the event that they had to assume command. Armand passed a dataslate over.

His father simply took the dataslate gently, offering no words as yet. There was a stirring in the shadows and neither Armand or Vanessa were surprised to see Amothanil step from the shadows, Maudavar was on the higher landing and was not moving. Both of them knew the children well, and when they were away from pomp and decorum, engaged in a near heretical comaraderie and friendship. Gwendolyn cocked her head slightly. "Husband?" His silence was unusual.

"First strike. Binary system. It is clearly inhabited, numerous cities are visible on the surface. They did not engage in hostilities against us, but sensors did not observe any vessel even close to matching the Seekers of Purity for scale." He continued to read. Then frowned. "There is a human population." He passed the dataslate to Gwendolyn. Orbital scans were also visible on the same screen for her to call to detail if she wished, but her husband had selected the telescopy results.

A cluster of buildings, half buried in the sands with people working on outdoor structures and buildings. Humans, and either mutants or some kind of xenos race.

Arthurius stood and headed from the chamber towards his private dressing room where a servitor quickly aided him in donning the garments he preferred for the task ahead. "This is von Hydraxius to bridge. Task Group is to begin immediate warp translation for the system identified by the Seekers of Purity. It is time to roll the bones."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

There was now, unofficially, a standoff in the Tatoo system, while the Hutts were keeping things from escalating, the appearance of three Venators in orbit, and Lucrehulk that had clearly been pulled out of a retrofitting phase to update it as a Battleship had made things tenser than either party was comfortable with, drawn by the strange behaviour of the two vessels before their disappearance. Both factions had, ultimately, come to surprisingly the same conclusion. It had been some sort of recon expedition, or exploratory effort made by a new party. And so when the edge of the system flickered to incandescence with the unlight of impossible space, they all noticed it immediately.
What they had expected was maybe the two ships to return, perhaps with a third. What they had not expected was what appeared to be an entire battlegroup. The first to fall from the hole in space were six vessels that divided into two squadrons. The Black Fang and White Fang squadronds of Sword class frigates dividing into an escort formation with two arrowheads. Following them another three vessels in an arrowhead formation. The Mars class battlecruiser Legal Salvage in the fore, with the Gothic class cruiser Excessive Gravitas to its port and aft and Dictator class Cruiser Nothing There Sir on its starboard and aft. A monstrous five kilometres long each, not counting the barrel of the weapon under the Legal Salvages' prow the forces present at Tatoo were already beyond nervous.

Seven and a half kilometres of artwork disgorged through the hellish hole in space. Each kilometre more ornate and finely wrought than the last. Boulevards of Statuary. Kilometres of friezes painted on the hull. The Rapturous Glory of Profit for the Throne of Man was a vessel to behold.

And following them closely, the three Firestorm class frigates of the Red Fang squadron were followed by the three Tempest class strike frigates of the Quiet Strike, though none in the Tatoo observed them beneath their Empyrean Mantles.

The crack in the universe sealed behind them and they surged towards the desert planet. The colossal game of chicken was one that neither the Republic or the CIS had expected to be engaged upon. Yet now they had to face the fact that the flagship of that entire fleet outmassed the three Venators and Lucrehulk on its own. Soon enough they had a stay of execution on their decisions. The flagship was broadcasting music of some sort, blanketing almost every traditional channel in the system with its power and volume.

They could not understand the language being used. But it did not seem to be the sort of thing done by a group that intended hostilities. The powerful drives on their fleet meant that, while having come from the edge of the system, it took them not all that long relatively speaking to reach Tatooine and settle into a high geosynchronous orbit over the largest city. Nobody on the planet was under any illusions about the vessels on high. From the very surface of the planet they could see individual turrets on some of the fleet now in orbit over them.

And with that, the music began to shut down. Ceasing its relentless bombardment across all channels. Instead a broadcast transmission came from the vessel, aimed at both the Republic and CIS vessels, as well as at the city below. They waited an hour before repeating the broadcast once more, but neither the CIS, Republic, or people of Mos Eisley had and idea what the message was, let alone its contents.

Fear began to grow before finally. A clutch of craft disgorged from the belly of the beast, and the Mars class and Dictator both launched squadrons of Fury Interceptors to escort them towards the surface.

The lead craft looked almost birdlike, wings stretched wide thrusters flaring as it descended. It had none of the Repulsorlifts that local craft would use to touch down lightly. And yet, as it found a large landing pad, and three more craft settled alongside it.

The three craft dropped hatches and troops surged from within, armoured in full body armour, weapons held in hands with power cables attached to bulky backpack units. They showed no interest in the fact the alien craft in orbit had launched shuttles of their own, now racing for the surface, if not for landing pads too close to those that had come down, too concerned with accidentally crossing the fighter escort at high altitude.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hector Westwood La-Minnings stepped from the Aquila Lander and looked around at the dusty surrounds. "This place is a cesspit." He sneered into his vox-bead that was using the Aquila as a link. From the shuttle came the rest of his retinue, including the Lexographers. They had received no response to vox transmissions and had come to the conclusion that they didn't mean anything to those present. There was a woman in the booth looking over the edge of the counter with a near terrified expression.
He looked over at her and frowned. He turned for a moment to the triplets who formed the Lexographers, they were not speaking now, but they had little purpose directly. Instead he looked at a tall man, too tall, one of the Void Born. A Famulous from the Throne. "Dornik, please see if you can communicate with that woman behind the counter." The man bowed slightly and crooked a finger at the closest of the triplets. The man nodded and followed behind, his fingers poised over the cogitation engine he wore around his waist, ready to input the keystrokes as needed.

"Madam. Please step from behind yonder counter. I would wish to introduce you to the Seneschal Tertius Hector Westwood La'Minnings in service of the House Von Hydraxius, it is a glorious day that we do honour unto you of our lords presence in the skies above your world." The woman simply squinted at the Famulous and his widespread hands. She glanced cautiously at the many armed men in the bay as well, before wiping her hands, thick with grease, upon dusty overalls.

She said something and Dornik frowned, turning to the Lexographer who was tapping in what he heard with his finely tuned senses. With that Hector sighed in irritation. Great. A language problem. Namely, they didn't share one. At that, the other two Lexographers moved forwards to engage with the third. He keyed his vox once more. "It seems that, while outwardly human, and prehaps inwardly as well, we do not share a base language origin point, the Lexographers and Famulous Dornik are now engaged in an attempt to wrangle the tongue in some crude sense. This may take a while."

He was right, it was destined to take a while if it had been left to its own devices. Instead, two other parties sought entrance not fifty minutes later. Neither side looked human at all, and their presence seemed to animate the owner of this... hangar... into an ever greater degree of chattering.

It was then that the Kasrkin spun fast, their weapons coming up and the air being laced with the light of targeting lasers. One of the two parties had come with metal machines which bore weapons in their hands. They were too crude to have been of Necron make, but the two aliens they escorted bleated in the same language as the human and other alien, but this time in panic. "Abominable Intelligence!"

"STAY YOUR HANDS!" Hector bellowed suddenly, as the four clunky machines raised their own weapons, aiming around wildly at the significantly larger number of enemies facing them. The white clad troops that had accompanied the first alien had also brought weapons to a low ready, not quite aiming, but prepared to see if this went south. "The first one of you to fire unless fired upon will get the next twelve months rostered as a guardian to the Navigators quarters. Am. I. Clear." There was a chorus of clicks in his vox-bead as he received affirmations of his instructions from each of the Cadians that had joined the Von Hydraxius dynasty as security for their flagship after an incident that had left the dynasty to be the only ones willing, and able, to pull them out before the Inquisition virus bombed the planet.

Hector had seen the tirade as the Inquisitor had confronted the Rogue Trader over the order. He had been one of those Stormtroopers, their Colonel in fact. It was the words that Lord Arthurius had uttered that sealed his loyalty forever. Inquisitor. You abandoned these fine men and women of Cadia to die upon a hell of your making. You wish to reprimand me for saving the Emperor's servants, well, there they are. You may kill them yourself. Do you wish the loan of a pistol?

The Inquisitor had paled before the twelve thousand Cadians that had been pulled from the surface. Including two hundred of the mighty Kasrkin.

The Famulous was frowning. Cocked his head to the Lexographers and tried to say something that had come up on their cogitators that they passed him. He had no idea that in galactic common the Famulous had uttered a simple phrase, very very simple as the cogitators tried to spit out the context. "Tin Men Go". Unfortunately, the crudity of translation was insufficient to speed up their communication.

Despite the success of his words, it took another seventy eight hours before any real significant breakthrough was made. The Lexographers and Famulous working closely with the woman, and both leaders of the two groups that had come to the hangar.

They warned quickly that the translations would be imperfect. Flawed. And it may take many years to build a framework that truely connects the two languages sufficiently for automatic translation, that, eventually, it may simply be more efficient to learn the local tongue as well.

But finally, Hector stepped forwards. And Dornik repeated his introduction. "I would wish to introduce you to the Seneschal Tertius Hector Westwood La'Minnings in service of the House Von Hydraxius, it is a glorious day that we do honour unto you of our lords presence in the skies above your world."

 

[Kadaeux]

Can we get pictures of the ships? I am familiar with 40k and star wars but not enough to recognize the ships by name.

Click to shrink...

Admittedly, the name of the flagship class wouldn't help, not everyone is familiar with the Imperial name for the Repulsive class Grand Cruiser (Corinus class)


The Mars Class. (The Nothing There Sir is a Dictator that looks almost the same, but without the dorsal turrets.)


Gothic Class


Normal Dictator Class


Conquest Class Star Galleon


Defiant Light Cruiser


Endeavour Light Cruiser


Falchion Class Frigate


Firestorm Class Frigate


Sword Class Frigate


Tempest Class Strike Frigate


Cobra Class Destroyer


Dauntless Class Light Cruiser




For any I haven't included, most of them are on this somewhere. Imperial Navy Vessels (List) - Warhammer 40k - Lexicanum



SPECIAL NOTE:
The ships are only VERY broadly to the same design. As vessels of a Rogue Trader fleet, they have variable equipment options, are universally (in this Dynasty's case) equipped with Warpsbane Hulls and absolutely engorged with ostentatious addition with the exception of the Quiet Strike, Hellbreakers, Plundering Intent and Pirates Bane squadrons, which all favour stealth equipment and not sticking out.

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 3;
The Pre-Interview.

The discussions had to be moved, and now Hector found himself in the midst of what looked like the beginnings of an argument about where it would be safest to conduct such an interview. The woman started when a third party appeared at the same entrance as the xenos male in robes. They trooped into the hangar. Piggish creatures surrounding a mutant with tentacles hanging from its head instead of hair. "Lord Jabba the Hutt invites the strangers to visit his domicile." Both bickering sides looked suddenly pained as if something filthy had been stepped in. Which meant either that the figure had more power and influence, or was a figure of distaste. Dornik had picked up on the same sentiment and expressed as much as he finished translating.

"It is aggreeable that we might discuss it in that location." Hector found himself saying instead while not really agreeing with a single moment of it. The mutant nodded.

"Please esteemed guests. Follow." Two squads of Kasrkin formed up around Hector as they began to walk through the city, followed closely by Dornik and the Lexographers he studied the city in great detail, his augmetic right eye recording everything with a fidelity only the finests of mechanicus products should have been capable of. Of course, it wasn't mechanicus wrought, but made by Tinkertek when he had lost the eye in a duel. The city...

Stank. Reeked. He wanted nothing more than to leave. But he had a duty. When they reached something called the des-lijic complex, he could not wrap himself around the pronunciation. Once they were escorted down into the depths the heat of the world above faded away to a coolness that he was very surprised to find, the Republic and CIS representatives had followed him unwilling to leave it unattended. And so it was...

"Fuck me with the Golden Throne... what the fuck is that." He uttered before he could stop himself. A slug with a fat mans arms and a face surely not even a mother could love was reclined upon a slab that mocked the very nature of a divan. Wisely, the Famulous did not translate his lords outbirst, and the Lexographers were smart enough not to bring it up.

The twisted mutant stepped up onto the dais and turned to face them. Upon which the lexographers and Dornik resumed their role in truth. "May I present my Lord Jabba the Hutt." That... thing.. was who they had come to see. His hand itched for the hellpistol on his hip.

The monstrous creature began to speak in a xenos tongue, only for the mutant to translate whatever tongue it was into 'common' where the Famulous nodded and parsed the translation back. "Why have you done this. Why does your warfleet hang above my world." They were more statements than questions.

Hector cocked his head slightly as his Famulous stopped speaking waiting for his response. "I am Seneschal Tertius to the House Von Hydraxius Dynasty, I am Hector Westwood La-Minnings and a landed Earl of Markesh. It is my honour and duty to have been tasked with coming down to this world, and studying it and its people to see if there is any business that can be done with the Von Hydraxius dynasty and the peoples of this region." The slug which had been fairly corpulent, on hearing his own majordomos translation seemed to come more alive. Significantly so. Even as the piggish creatures studied the Kasrkin nervously Hector studied the room. This was a small audience chamber, clearly not intended as a primary place of such business. And with the wariness of the other representatives, such close audiences were likely rare or unusual.

He removed an item from within his robes of office. A black cube.

A prohibited, profane and thoroughly illegal item. One of a clutch of gifts from a benefactor whom they had traded with only thrice in the Dynasty's history. And the only one that they had scrubbed all official records of. And all but a handful of the secure private records. "I bring a gift, to lighten the burden of our inconvenient arrival, our scout vessels noted no escort vessels during their study of this world, but now three and a light cruiser hang above it."

"Excuse me." The voice of the xenos from the Republic interrupted, translated quickly, "What do you mean escorts? And a light cruiser?"

"Those arrowhead shaped vessels are escort craft are they not? And the ring vessel is a light cruiser no?" This made everyone present that didn't come from the Imperium start in a sort of shock. The respectful tone of the xenos spoke once more.

"If I may. How many of those vessels you have in orbit do you consider capital ships?" He asked.

Dornik looked at Hector and then nodded, answering without him. "Four."

The other xenos, the fearful one, jabbered at length. "What do you mean four!? You have seventeen vessels in orbit! And not a single one is smaller than one of the Republic's Venator class Star Destroyer!?"

This time he waited for Hector to expressly answer. "The small vessels in our fleet are merely escort ships. Disposable chaff to ensure the security." But their remark had told him one other thing. They had not detected the Quiet Strike, cloaked with their Empyrean Mantles.

"Small vessels..." The Hutt said... and his eyes were widened in shock. "What kind of trade discussions did you have in mind, honoured guest." The majordomo took th Tesseract Labyrinth, lacking even the common sense to understand the trap that had been placed in his hands.

"That is, I am afraid, partially what I have been sent to find out. I hold little direct power in the business of the Von Hydraxius dynasty, I have been sent to appraise what we might find valuable in trade, and try to determine what might interest potential partners. I can see already that this world is fairly lacking in appreciable moisture on the surface, a product of the binary sun I would hazard to guess?" The grunt of acknowledgement as the translation was made. "Alternatively, I can see you are a being of culture, you appreciate the finer things." He had no idea if that was true. He had no cultural context for anything in this chamber.

The xenos monstrosity suddenly darkened. "Why is it your... master... sends such a flunky instead of paying the due respect and presenting himself to this worlds master?" The Republic and CIS representatives became rigid. And the tension in the room climbed enormously.

And yet, he stood firm and unbowed. "Because, Lord Jabba, this world has almost no signficiant mineral wealth, no water or food value of note as far as we could determine from orbital scans, approximately two hundred thousand lives based on what we can tell of the settlements and roving bands in the deserts. This city alone holding approximately a quarter of it. With the number of spaceport hangars, I would suggest that this might be a pass-through for trade."

And now the words that almost choked the Hutt.

"Based on such, you are unworthy of the honour of my Lord visiting you. You may petition for audience with him, but my lord will not descend to this world." A strangled sound emitted from the Hutt as it lurched up from its redolent position and the people in the room reached for weapons but before they could reach them, even those who held them ready were too slow. The Kasrkin had raised their hellguns and filled the chamber with the laser light of targeting beams contacting foreheads of both everyone who looked like they had their weapons ready. Jabba recovered from his fit of rage. Realising that those men were exactly as dangerous as they looked.

"You would require us seek audience with your lord!?" The Hutt's voice was level, calm, and teetering with just a smidge of rage.

"No Lord Jabba, my Lord would require you to seek audience. He is most interested to learn of you, your world, the nations that inhabit these stars, but this world is beneath him, metaphorically, and at the moment, literally." It was the Republic member that spoke first.

"I am the Jedi Master Plo Koon and I would request an audience. I insist." A small hand wave and Hector snarled at the xenos. He felt the attempt and crushed it beneath the iron of his will.

"I am Hector Westwood La'Minnings, former Colonel of the Cadian 9221st, Seneschal Tertius of the House Von Hydraxius. I will request your audience. But if you attempt to invade or influence my mind once more, I will ventilate yours." This seemed to surprise the 'Jedi Master'.

It didn't take long for the others to accede to his demands.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Plo Koon had felt uncertain, the idea of a stoic Jedi unbothered by anything was in and of itself a myth that the Order itself enjoyed perpetuating as it made it simpler to try and encourage compliance if people believed you were unflappable. But his attempt to lightly influence the stranger had been shut down. His will crashing down like a wall against the force itself, crushing the attempt in its infancy. And yet, his request had not been rebuffed anyway. Unfortunately, the Nemoidians had also wrangled an audience and... doubly unfortunately. So had the Hutt.

It was this that had caused them to follow the House Hydraxius craft closely, the fighter escorts surging back out of the atmosphere as the lander plied its drives to full power. They followed close, obeying the flight corridors being broadcast by the shuttle ahead of them. And as they got closer, Plo Koon looked at the screen showing the cameras views from the gunship. And his heart hesitated a moment, skipping a beat. They had just passed one of the smaller ships. It's weaponry larger than the very craft he rode in. The architecture of the vessel was baroque and gaudy.

And deceptive. He focussed one of the cameras on a statue that turned to follow them, it's arms in outstretched prayer... the barrels of weapons within the robes, reflecting in the sunlight. A concealed weapon emplacement. The vessel they headed for loomed in the viewports, and as the fighter escort peeled away, they continued down a collonade of statues build into the ship's ventral side. Once more the concealed weapons within statues could be seen.

He was simply grateful they were not passing what he thought was the main batteries of the ship. According to his transports sensors, they could have flown down the barrel of individual weapons.

The belly of the beast loomed. The hangar bay yawning open.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 4;
In the Belly of Glory

Plo Koon stepped from the gunship followed by his bodyguard. A vast hangar was not a new concept to him, and he had been in many larger in his time. But he had never, at any time in his life, been in a more opulent space. Not more opulent hangar. He had never been in a more opulent space. This private Hangar was full of presumably private craft. Each of them was flanked by statuary, this time not concealing weapons. The weapons in the hangar were not concealed at all. Vast twenty metre tall marble friezes depicting various scenes without the context with which he was familiar. The decking was also made to loo... no...

It was marble. Protected by some sort of surface coat that protected it from the landing claws of the craft occupying the hangar. A thirty metre wide hatch at the rear opened and a retinue of some sort entered the chamber, a man that was no longer a man emerged from it, he moved across the deck on some sort of device with many legs, a slight rocking motion as it walked across the chamber towards them. Within the crook of a mechanical arm a number of devices were clutched. It moved up to Plo Koon and studied him closely, mechanical tendrils poking him, and he felt no reaction from the force at this man so greatly had he carved away the meat of his biology. The cyborg adjusted several things on a device in his hand. And then he spoke in a language unlike anything Plo had heard from the others. A mechanised trilling sound. But the device in his hands was speaking as soon as it started. The others present also heard and listened.

"This device is an elucidator. It has been programmed with High Gothic, Low Gothic, Techna-Lingua and adjusted to translate into what you call 'common'. We lack sufficient datum points to account for the language spoken by the one called Jabba and he may retain use of his retainer for translation." The mechanical man moved over towards the CIS representative and handed him one as well.

And then issued a stern warning. "You will keep your abominable intelligences on that transport you arrived in. If any of them step so much as a picometer from the transport, the plasma blastgun in the ceiling will... correct... this oversight and we will issue a bill for the repair of the hangar floor." At the last he headed over to Bib Fortuna, handing the terrible cretin a device also and explaining its used to him. That done he turned and made his way from the chamber, the man called Hector, the Seneschal Tertius, taking over once more.

"Please follow me." The journey, it turned out was not as rapid as Plo Koon might have liked, he felt himself getting further from his Gunship and the illusion of safety it provided. Every metre of deck was richly decorated and he felt that it might not be inopportune to ask a question.

"If I may Seneschal Tertius, this is a very richly appointed corridor for a starship, even the hangar was overflowing with opulent design. Is this typical?"

The man turned, still walking, if backwards, the few crew they saw made way for him with haste. "First impressions are a vitally important matter in the business of a Rogue Trader, and so it is that you tread the path of supplicants, we are headed for the primary audience chamber." He turned, and they stepped out into something that stole their breaths entirely.

The path expanded out into a hall that had to be half a kilometre in length, its vaulted ceilings rose a hundred metres or more into the air, Plo could not see how far for the upper reaches of that space were not lit. And the crimson carpet, ten metres wide, was flanked on either side by at least a thousand people on each side. And to a heavy, industrial beat they sang what could only have been described as a hymn.


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JIHiaxj_Wxc

Jabba actually seemed to grow subdued in the chamber. Vast banners hung from the rafters, depicting scenes from battles and other encounters. They marched subdued across the carpet towards a rising stairwell, capped with a vast two-headed bird of some sort spread out across the chamber, its wide wings reaching into the rafters. It's talons buried in the deck. In the crook between the two heads a throne sat.

Plo Koon felt it in his bones. Knew why this was called the supplicants way. They were not being escorted to see an equal, a counterpart. They were being escorted to see what amounted to a religious figure, a lord not just in title, but in truth. They marched across the audience chamber, followed by thousands of voices raised in prayer and worship. All eyes watching them. As they came within a few hundred metres of the foot of the edifice Plo Koon looked more closely at their destination. He saw towering men with almost half-formed features standing with massive brutish weapons in hand. Much taller than the humans he could see. And between them, at the foot of the stairs itself. Twenty men in some sort of powered armour stood. They bore spears in hand and ignored the approaching party until they reached a mere twenty metres from the edge of the stairs.

Then a semicircle of crackling lightning surrounded them as the spears were lowered into ready position and activated their power fields. A woman stepped from the right hand of the bottom of the stairs.

"Who doth Entreat to speak with Lord Admiral Arthurius Nelson Allenby Wolseley Von Hydraxius, Majesty of the Dawn, Light upon all he touches, Master of the Hydraxius Subsector, Patriarch of Bombastus Primus, Executor of Tanakred, Sun of Markesh, Lord of the Skies of Naesong, Kratarch of Bloodstone. Chosen of the God Emperor and given into his care the sacred Warrant of Trade." The blistering reading of titles could have gone on longer, of that Plo Koon could have wagered his lightsaber.

But he was not a man known for being slow of wit. "I am Jedi Master Plo Koon of the Jedi Order, here representing the Galactic Republic until a formal diplomat may be dispatched." His instincts made him look up slightly, to either side of the Rogue Trader upon his throne. Two figures, not quite human, he could tell that immediately, were hidden in the wings of the vast statue, weapons cradled.

The woman who had spoken nodded and turned to face the throne where she repeated his words.... but they weren't quite his words. "The honourable Jedi Master, Plo Koon of the Galactic Republic most humbly begs audience with your august majesty."

The man did not stir from his position, yet he looked down at Plo Koon and he felt nothing quite so powerfully as naked ambition, and a deep, dark cunning. "We will speak with him in the red room after dinner, to which the honourable representative of the Galactic Republic is invited."

Mol Kow spoke in the same formal manner and requested the same, this time being assigned to meet in the blue room after the dinner. And that left only the corpulent Jabba the Hutt to speak.

Bib Fortuna translated. His pale flesh going paler by the word. "Your agents came to my world. Set down in my city. Consumed my air. Your agent tells me how worthless my world is. How few people it is. How little it has to offer you. Declared it unworthy of even your footstep. And through extension, me." Jabba's Gammoreans and those bounty hunters he had lavished credit upon to form part of his retinue suddenly looked very nervous and even Jabba stopped turning.

The prayers and chants had stopped entirely. The confrontational tone echoing around the grand adamantium collonades holding up the expansive ceiling. The man on the throne stood. And every single human in the throning crowd crashed into a prostrate position, averting their eyes from the descent of their lord. His words echoed around the chamber. And Plo Koon wondered if he would be forced to try and protect the Hutt from his error.

"I am a Rogue Trader. Master of Worlds. Under my rule and protection over three hundred billion souls call my words law. Your world lacks in mineral value of any significant degree. It has no value as a producer of crops. It has no value for its dihydrogen monoxide. This world has approximately two hundred thousand inhabitants." It took Plo Koon a moment to realise that the man held what was clearly a weapon in his hands, it was being manipulated with such a carefree manner it had almost escaped his notice. "This ship alone has a hundred and forty thousand people that call it home. The three vessels nearest to this in size have crews between sixty five thousand and a hundred and five thousand souls. Adding together all the escort vessels crews would be hundreds of thousands more." Each step echoed through the chamber. "So no Mr the Hutt. Your world is not worthy of my step. If you believe that reflects poorly on you then I invite you to reflect on yourself and wonder why. If you have something of interest to me that we can discuss in the interests of trade and mutual profits, I will happily grant you the same opportunity for audience."

The voice of the Rogue Trader descended lower. Bib Fortuna did not translate to his master, Jabba understood Common well enough. And yet, despite lowering his voice, the words carried further. "But one thing I will not tolerate aboard my vessel is being disrespected by those I honour with the opportunity to meet me. You are welcome to apologise and thank me for the beneficence I grant you with."

Bib Fortuna gulped. "And should I refuse?"

"Then, Jabba. Your successor will get that chance instead." The weapon in his hand hummed into a malevolent life.

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 5;
Banquet

Mol Kow felt terror he had never known he could experience, his aides flitted around him in discombobulation. This entire mission had gone from investigating a strange occurence to something significantly more difficult. Except for the strange bulked up creatures, and the near omnipresent cyborgs, they had not seen any crew except for humans. Every metre of the ship seemed built to intimidate, and now they were following servants, and security, to a suit of quarters that they could rest in until the time came for dinner, in approximately two hours. The halls they passed through now were not so richly appointed as the supplicants way.

Mol hesitated for a second and looked more closely at an alcove they passed. It was decorated... with skulls. Their guide noticed and turned back. "I hope one day to be honoured so." The woman said. Bowing towards the alcove with her hands held peculiarly.

"What is the purpose of this.. display?" He asked, and the woman cocked her head as if in surprise.

"The Shrine venerates the Emperor and those favoured servants who have earned a place of honour." She explained and Mol felt any further questions on his lips die. Their host have never been introduced with the title Emperor, nor had he a crown. If these were the resources of a merchant, then what resources could their Emperor command? The richly appointed guest quarters to which they were introduced were smaller than he had expected given the opulence of the audience hall. Carpets and artwork, locked displays showing off fine works of some kind. The servant left the room. "An escort will arrive when it is time to go to the banqueting hall."

As the door hissed shut he lifted out the small droid from under his robes. "Find a terminal." He ordered and the machine began to search around the room. Five minutes turned into ten. Eventually they found a keyboard and a screen behind a thin wooden partition... but they could not read the contents of the screen and the keyboard was not illuminated.

More importantly, and what should have been predictably, they couldn't find any sort of access port compatible with the droids tooling. "I guess we are waiting for dinner?" One of his colleagues said.

"I guess we are..." Mol Kow said.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The footage from the pict-thieves was being monitored closely, the security office at full staffing with people in three of the guest quarters. The disgusting slug had not chosen to take up their master on his ultimatum. Samuel Montcroix, the fifteenth brother of Gwendolyn, Seneschal Secundus presided over the chamber at the moment, while observing their official spymaster at his task. The man only went by the game Grey. "I want a report."

"The stupid looking scaredy-xenos haven't done much, they released some sort of servo-unit into the room and found the local cogitator, but haven't done anything with it. They appeared confused by it. The more intelligent one has been conversing with the men he brought with him, curiously, they have removed helmets and are all human, vat-grown by the looks of it."

"And the slug?" He asked.

A deep sigh. "It has been raving at the mutant since they were locked up, it looks apoplectic with rage. Unfortunately, the elucidators are not able to translate their native tongue."

"Threat assessment?"

"Insufficient data my lord." Then a mellifluous voice came from behind them and Samuel jumped.

The long face of one of the Aeldari twins hung beneath her hood. Her brother was not present. "Their tongue is crude, perhaps more so than Gothic, but can be understood with patience."

"If I may xenos, why do you darken my steps?" Samuel asked, her presence here was unusual, and he had scars earned by her kind. Amothanil merely smiled slightly.

"Arthurius requested that I study the Hutt, he didn't trust their tongue. Or manner." She hesitated, an unusual trait as she listened closely, "Their master has been humiliated enough and feels that he must now ensure that Lord Hydraxius is educated in the respect that he deserves." Her face darkened. Samuel felt ill at ease. Moreso at her last words. "He intends to ill. I must tell the Lord Captain."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Plo Koon followed his guides when they came to collect him for dinner, the other representatives also in the party. The force did not scream any immediate warnings, or even hint at them. And.. for all the pomp of before, where the audience hall was grotesquely grandiose, this was a more familiar space, made for comfort.

The table was still vast, and there was almost two dozen people present, all human. There was no sign of the inhuman presence. He blinked in surprise seeing what looked like very humanoid protocol droids serving the meal, the fine golden armour covering them as they worked wordlessly. And only once they passed him did he sense that they were semi-living beings, mindless and without feeling, but a heart beat somewhere within. The tables were lavishly loaded and only once they had all been seated did the master of the House enter.

"Welcome to the feast of first meetings, please esteemed guests, enjoy whatever foods take your liking. Now we are away from such a heavily formalised meeting place, may I introduce my wife, Gwendolyn Diana Montcrois Von Hydraxius. My children, Armand, Vanessa, Eleanora and Isaac and their cousin Humphrey." He introduced them one after another, only the one called Humphrey was a child, "Humphrey's parents were killed by Orks on Thena and he was entrusted as a ward to my Wife and I." He took a seat, "Others present are various officers of the Rapturous Glory of Profit for the Throne of Man, they may choose to introduce themselves at will."

Plo Koon took that moment to ask a question, "If I may, I see only humans present at this table, what of the alien members of your crew?"

The Rogue Trader smiled, "There are no alien crew members aboard the 'Throne', I have several allies from other species, an act signficantly frowned upon for anyone but Rogue Traders typically."

"Frowned upon?" This from Mol.

"Yes, standard Imperium law is that the xenos, the alien, is to be feared and destroyed at all times, permitted not to exist at all. Rogue Traders such as myself are given considerable laxity and immunity to such laws, instead being given the freedom to treat fairly or foul in accordance to our own will. Should the incident that transported us to this galaxy have happened to a dynasty more prone to zealotry first contact would have likely being an orbital bombardment followed by an invasion intended to eliminate all non-human peoples." Arthurius said as he loaded his own plate, "I am a far more moderate soul, and I find that the xenophobic approach is counterproductive."

Jabba simply tried to enjoy the foods, not knowing what any of it was, and not that any of it was alive, but surreptitously testing the food for being safe for consumption, he took polite portions and carefully slipped those he could consume under his mask, holding his breath momentarily. And posed his next query. "You mention an incident?"

This question was fielded by Eleanora. "A spatial storm caused a translocation of our subsector into this galaxy." She said after swallowing a piece of fine spiced meats, "It was an unusually severe effect displacing us three million lightyears from our home galaxy, and as far as we can tell from our navigators, the best part of sixty to seventy thousand years into our own past." The words caused Plo Koon to cock his head thoughtfully.

"So you are exploring then?" He followed up.

Arthurius smiled as he consumed some sort of fruit. "That is what we are, a Rogue Trader is charged by the Imperium of Mankind to explore the reaches of the unknown, to claim worlds in the name of the Emperor of Mankind, to seek out new products, new markets, to destroy enemies not yet known and determine possible threats in future. We are exempt from most of the laws of common men, and outside of the borders of the Imperium we speak in the Emperor's name with his authority clutched in our souls like a fine blade. It is we that choose whether to colonise, destroy, trade or even shape alliances." He reached plucked a piece of bread with some sauce over the top. "I have always preferred to shape alliances and trade agreements, with the Leagues of Votann, Kroot and with the Aeldari... and even the occasional trade with the more vexing Necron peoples. I've engaged in trade with Kings and Queens, Executives and Warlords, Pirates and more."

Surprise lit up in Jabba's eyes. He spoke and Bib Fortuna translated. "You have traded with pirates?"

"Pirates, Crime Lords, never Heretics or servants of the Dark Powers though. A pirate might be an unsavoury character, a criminal and even a murderer, but heretics and servants of the dark powers are enemies of all living things and the only trade I have engaged in with them is in trading firepower. Since I am here it should be clear I have yet to meet a match in such an arena."

Mol and Jabba smiled, but Plo frowned, "Is it wise to be conducting such dealings with criminal elements?"

Arthurius cocked his head and Plo thought he was being studied like an insect beneath a microscope. "Of course it is, pirates are often useful deniable assets in dealing with a problematic element, as well, due to the nature of their work sometimes they manage to procure items of interest. Of course I could have simply slain them and prayed they had no damaged or destroyed it, or such to occur in battle. And sometimes it is simply a practical matter, if I cannot spare the forces to escort our transports, it is easier to pay off the pirates rather than risk the loss of cargo."

"And life." Plo added.

And horror filled him. "Life is cheap and plentiful. Replacing a two millennia old vessel is considerably more difficult."

"Two millennia?" Mol asked. "Surely you wouldn't use a vessel so old instead of a newer model?"

"This vessel's keel was first laid in the docks of Mars itself six thousand four hundred and seventy three years relative to my own age. It took three years to complete, when my ancestor first purchased it, the fifteenth hull of type out of the Martian yards. And passing into my own hands when I ascended to the title of Rogue Trader after my father passed a hundred and fifty terran years ago." Arthurius talked about the ship, a light in his eyes as he casually rubbed a hand along the table as if it was an extension of the vessel.

"Thank you for your candor Lord Arthurius. I look forwards to our negotiations."

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 6;
The Red Room

The strange xenos with the breathing mask and eyecaps was escorted into the red room, a far smaller sitting room than any other chambers that they had been in on the Throne and Arthurius studied it through the pict thieves as Margaretta rejoined him. "The Xenos is ready my lord."

"Edwin will be joining me." He said standing and ensuring his suit was perfectly arranged.

The journey did not take so long for the master of the vessel, the meeting rooms placed so that they could be accessed quickly by the ships master. Stepping into the palatially appointed room the sight of the Xenos did not trouble Arthurius, he had been skirting Imperial decency for a long time, from consorting with the more reasoning races around him, to encouraging the Xenarites to consider Tanakred a safe place for their kind, far from the troubles of higher scrutiny coreward. One of the xenos' human vat grown bodyguards was with him, but that mattered little. It was time for real work.

A ridge analogous to an eyebrow raised as the Rogue Trader, two of his Seneschals and a figure that Plo Koon had yet to meet. "Jedi Master Plo Koon, these are my seneschals Margaretta Greaves Marfont and Samuel Montcroix, and our Astropath Transcendant Edwin Linvingstone."

"It is a pleasure." Plo Koon said studying them... then looking back at the Astropath. A shudder visibly ran through the xenos as his eyes met the empty sockets of Edwin. "You have suffered much master Edwin."

The terrifically short Astropath nodded slightly, "Suffering in the name of the Imperium and Mankind is the lot of my kind. I have been notified that you appear to have some degree of telepathic influence?" Again the Jedi's brow raised.

"We have some limited influence over people with a weaker will." He admitted. "But, I don't believe we are here to discuss scuh. We are here to discuss your dynasty's presence and how it might effect the galaxy. And what part in it you might be able to take."

Arthurius nodded. "At this stage, we lack sufficient information to make any informed decisions on a grander scale, but we are, among other roles, primarily focussed with the affairs of trade. Stranded as we are in this galaxy we will need to learn about the political, military and economic situation. As such, we would be interest in the exchange of materials for local technology, stellar cartography and perhaps the services of a well appointed Liason."

Plo Koon nodded lightly to himself, "I am not empowered to engage in any kind of economic decision making, as I was dispatched to attend to the strange events reported to be taking place here. If you wish, we can send formal negotiators and perhaps arrange for you to be put into contact with Republic friendly coporations who may be willing to engage in trade with you. Though it might help if I was able to present what you are able or willing to trade."

"With our capacity, and production, it quite depends on what is more important. Our production levels include about eight hundred gigatonnes of foodstuffs annually, another four hundred and eighty or so gigatonnes of metals and ores, refined from surface extraction and asteroid mining operations." Arthurius turned to Margaretta, "Ms Marfont, any other contributions you can consider?"

She consulted a dataslate. "Without our commitments to the wider Imperium, due to these unfortunate circumstances, we are producing about sixty billion tonnes of munitions and related war materiel annually. Including our own private reserve stocks for trade and negotiation with other powers. Though we may have to speak with the planetary Governors and Fabricator General about re-tailoring our production so we don't end up with too much of a surplus." She said in bored tones, "With the unknown galaxy around us, I would recommend that we step up our ship manufacturing. We have the mobile yards, and Tanakred has its own orbital shipyard, we have previously used it scarcely and only for our own maintenance needs."

Arthurius smiled as he saw the expression on his guests faces, not naked avarice. But surprise, maybe awe. He decided to capitalise further on that, "Margaretta, next time you have the opportunity, see if we cannot increase our extraction levels, our tithes have been generously low, but we must look to our own security in this case."

"Do you not produce civilian goods for trade?" Plo Koon asked and he was surprised at the look of confusion and surprise on both figures.

"Civilian goods aren't worth the value hauling between the stars, what use is transporting clothing and other petty goods?" He saw the calculation in Plo Koon's eyes at that. "Luxury goods like that only have a market with the ultra-wealthy of our worlds, the expenses in shipping become entirely prohibitive."

"What about small scale civilian shipping?" Plo Koon asked.

"The veesels that conducted a reconnaisance of this world are among the smallest ships in the Imperium capable of warp travel." Was the simple answer from Margaretta. "Smaller scale shipping is limited to in-system travel, and once more transporting luxuries for the cost involved is impractical."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

They didn't have small faster than light capable ships? Or were they simply concealing them. "I see. I can definitely picture the potential of trade with your Dynasty and the Republic, you must understand that there is a civil disturbance at this time, ... a civil war... and that we would not make any demands of you, but that you might wish to consider whether you still wish to engage in trade given the situation." To his surprise, Arthurius shrugged.

"If conflict prevented me from trading I would be living in a straw hut on a backwater. If I wanted to count how many days the Imperium has not known war I could stop at none." The words were said as easily as if he had inquired about the weather and Plo Koon felt his concern over these strangers pass on higher.

"I see, I will not lie and say I do not have concerns Lord Hydraxius, yet for all of them you have been very reasonable with us. But as I said, I unfortunately have little power to do more than assess the situation here and can make no promises, that is in the hands of our diplomats, and any trade agreements is in the hands of our corporations. Do you have and questions which I can address, though I cannot promise the answers you need." Plo Koon said diplomatically, the fact was that he was in fact ill equipped to deal with the situation as it was.

"No significant queries, if we can have some basic information on the galaxy and the peoples within it to go over. We would rather not make any significant missteps at this stage."

Plo Koon chuckled, "I am sure we can give you some basic information, though you may have made a misstep already with angering Jabba the Hutt. He is merely the local represtentative of the Hutts and for all the value this world does not possess, its unimportance has made it a major criminal trade hub. His influence is not inconsiderable, and should he bend efforts against you, you may find yourself surprised or outmanouevred." Plo Koon shook his head slightly, "Underestimate him at your own peril."

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 7;
The Blue Room

Mol Kow and his attendants were troubled and afraid, the people of this culture were almost frightening in their intensity and yet, the lushly appointed Blue Room was much more compact, it too was lushly appointed, but it was clearly designed as a very private sitting room where one might conduct business in quiet behind closed doors, and that did much to settle his nerves. Only the lack of battledroids for security still contributed to their nerves, but the humans seemed abhorrently against droids. And so when the door opened and four humans, including the Rogue Trader filed in, Mol bowed slightly. "We thank you for granting us audience."

"It is my pleasure Mol Kow, these are my seneschals Margaretta Greaves Marfont and Samuel Montcroix, and our Astropath Transcendant Edwin Linvingstone. But I believe that neither of us is in particular need for pleasantries." A spike of fear went through Mol Kow. "I am given to believe that the peoples of Cato Nemoidia are prolific businessmen," How had this human learned that? What had the Jedi shared with them? "This leads me to conclude that we can get down to brass tacks, and that you might have a greater degree of autonomy to make deals than the Republic representative."

Oh be still my beating heart! The Nemoidian thought to himself in excitement.

"Our production levels include about eight hundred gigatonnes of foodstuffs annually, another four hundred and eighty or so gigatonnes of metals and ores, refined from surface extraction and asteroid mining operations," Arthurius consulted the slate from his talks with Plo Koon, "We are also producing about sixty billion tonnes of munitions and related war materiel annually. Including our own private reserve stocks for trade and negotiation with other powers." A thrill of naked greed surged through Mol Kow.

"I am surprised to hear you admitting to so much so soon. And of course we would need to discuss many more specifics before committed to any kind of deal, assess the quality of materials and foodstuffs that you can produce. You must understand that we are in the early stages of a civil war with the old and decadent Republic that has refused worlds the right to secede from its ineffectual grasp." Mol smiled, "As you know, we are the Confederacy of Independent Systems, how long before the Republic tries to claim your own systems for its own. Might you not be best off joining the right side in history?"

Arthurius smiled and Mol smiled back. "It would be unwise for us to cast our dice at this time, we know little of this galaxy or the peoples within it and should learn more before such a decision is made do you not think? But such political considerations are for another time, more importantly, we are most interested in trade."

"What would you be most interested in?" Mol said, curious.

"At this state, technical objects. Learn about the technologies used in this part of the universe, we have observed that you have access to a much more miniaturised faster than light option for travel, including a degree of in-system transit, though based on our auspex readings, ships still have to clear a certain distance to safely engage ftl." Arthurius explained, "The representative from the Republic seemed interested in such trade, as well as some expressed interest in some of our own technologies." That stabbed into Mol's heart and he wondered even now how much the Republic might try and leverage the new arrivals in order to facilitate a faster end to the Clone War.

"I would hope you haven't come to any arrangments so far. As you can see, their finest vessels are much smaller than my Lucrehulk, it is doubtful that the crude Kuati hyperdrives would be sufficient to move your larger vessels. We have contacts with Rendili Stardrive that may prove more beneficial to you for your purposes." Mol offered, not about to be outdone, "I wouldn't wish to hamper a potential new ally!"

Arthurius nodded, "I would be most honoured, and of couse, there would be a finders fee if you were able to make that happen, a quarter ton of platinum perhaps as your finders fee?"

"I shall endeavour to put you in contact right away!" Mol shot up out of his chair, mentally slavering at the offering. That amount of Platinum would probably buy a hyperdrive unit! "I will also endeavour to put you in best contact with other corporations which may be of interest to you, though from what I understand you have little interest in Droids?"

Arthurius nodded, "No 'droids' please."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As the meeting with the CIS representative came to a close, Arthurius felt like he had made the tentative first steps that he would need. Which had brought him to his next meetings, not with the Hutts he could not afford to attend that meeting personally, but with Basilicus. "My Lord, you honour this enginarium. How can I help you?" The tech adept was unusually co-operative, and as well he should considering that for the past sixty years Arthurius had held his life and secret close to his heart and chest.

The words that came from Arthurius made the mechadendrites of the explorator magos twitch. "Code Khamrios." Instantly Basilicus turned and headed into a smaller forge and as Arthurius followed him in, without any guards, the door slammed shut with enough newtons of force to spark. "I am certain you have paid more than due attention to the abominable intelligences that have been used be our guests."

This line of enquiry troubled Basilicus. "You are aware that my congregation and I are followers of the Khamrian doctrine. You know that we have an interest in such things, however forbidden. It was my oath that I would never discuss or practice such things aboard your flagship or where it would draw unwarranted attention, you also vowed in turn to never mention it." There was a strong reproach in the tone.

The next words troubled Basilicus. "I have sheltered Khamrians, Xenarites, I have encouraged the Levelists, made deals with most of the reasoning xenos of our region of space, and even occasionally had dealings with the Necrontyr themselves..." The words were not a tumbled out confession, but an explanation for what was go come. "I have tried to make my corner of the galaxy a haven for free-thinkers who don't seek to annihilate us or treat with the ruinous powers, and more than once I have had to answer to minor Inquisitorial Probes. I believe that is why the Emperor chose to shield us and send us here."

The words were parsed by the tech-priest who waited to hear what was to come next, and his master, unbelievably, sighed deeply, his rigid shoulders slumping slgihtly.

"We are up the channel without a gellar field. And so I need you to contact the Fabricator General privately. I want you to study these abominable intelligences, find out if they even are such. We brought less than three hundred and fifty billion humans with us. We can no longer treat human lives as a limitless and expendable resource, even where I was loath to do so before. So let me make this abundantly clear."

He took a deep breath.

"I am suspending the proscriptions against the use of abominable intelligence and other innovation. I am also declaring that the Mechanicus can no longer afford to keep all their secrets to themselves anymore, I want to shift our deployment. Sicarian Infiltrators Flechette Blasters and Carbines, anything you have that is superior to guard issue, with the extreme number of these 'droids' perhaps roll out ARC weapons as well. Anything 'average' we may want to use for sale to other powers."

Basilicus collapsed onto a stool himself at the enormity of what was being said. "My lord... you propose a signfiicant undertaking."

Arthurius smiled. "I know my friend, I want you to begin modernisation programs as soon as possible, I also want you to significantly improve on the automation of many duties that are normally undertaken by serfs and slaves. There aren't enough of us real humans in this galaxy to expend callously in laborious jobs that a machine is better tooled for."

The low whistle through the Magos's vox made his skin crawl slightly, the sound was just too unnatural. "If you'll forgive me my lord. Please leave. I have a grotesque level of work to do now... and if you'll forgive me. You are, what is the word the ratings like? Kind of an asshole?"