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

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 8;
The Green Room

Jabba felt the boiling rage at the actions of the visitor to his world, the disrespect, the declaration of his unworthiness. And now he found himself begging for a sliver of attention in a room. The indignity was.. the man was known for dealing with unsavoury types. The struggle within was surprising to Jabba, for as much as he had been disrespected, if he could get in on the ground floor of a new market, or secure the aid of someone who was morally flexible enough, who would question someone transporting his spice in a ship like these?

When the door hissed open someone who was NOT the Rogue Trader came in. A woman entered, followed by three other figures, clad in black fitting bodysuits that did nothing to cover their bodies in a meaningful fashion. The headwear they wore had only a cutout for their eyes, and a v shape exposing nose and mouth. They wore blades on one hip, pistols on the other. "I am Eleanoria Pierpont Wolseley Von Hydraxius, officially I am not here, and never was here. My lord conveys his deepest regrets that he could not meet with you in person, but he has well over a centuries worth of experience telling him that the smartest way to deal with the parts of the universe others consider unsavoury and forbidden is to do so through proxies and cutouts. And so, for the purpos of this meeting I am called Culculus Canorus. And all further interaction with the legally challenging parts of your business will be conducted under this name. Am I clear?"

The words, once translated, surprised Jabba who studied her closer. He decided not to test what might happen if he refused her words. The blades on her guards hips looked razor sharp. "I understand. And respect such a prudent decision, though not meeting with your father still smarts of disrespect."

"He has many duties, and cannot afford the scandal. It is however, of interest to us that we mend our relationship and perhaps begin examining more profitable avenues of trade. As a lynchpin of business in that region, if the words of the Jedi Master to the Rogue Trader have proven accurate, you most likely have contacts with every thief, smuggler, slaver and pirate in your territory. Would we be wrong in that assessment?" She said plainly, questioning Jabba.

Bib Fortuna struggled to keep pace with the translation, but Jabba watched the daughter of the Rogue Trader intently. Trying not to notice the way she studied him. A crude disinterest. "You would not be wrong."

"And so, we are more than interested in entering into business with the Hutts in order to provide for our needs. I would assume, given the rather... varied... nature of the people in this galaxy that it is likely that humans are held in the thralls of slavery to nonhuman forces? " Bib Fortuna did not wait for Jabba's response, only answering in the affirmitive, then translating into Huttese.

"Among other possible trade then, we would seek to buy much of that trade. Other items would be technological curiosities and rarities. In return..." She held out a case and passed it to Bib Fortuna. "We have the narcotics of another galaxy, from curiosities like lho, obscura, admylladox, fervor, kalma, opiatix, slaught, spook, wyrdroot. Then there are the large number of alcoholic beverages we can produce unlike anything you have ever sampled. Unfortunately, I cannot speak for the.. relative.. safety or efficacy in nonhuman partakers."

Jabba's eyes went wide as Bib Fortuna reached a hand into the case and drew out a vial. "These narcotics are potent?"

"Some more than others, some a merely calming agents, others will cause supernatural manifestations of psychic ability to the imbiber. Some are simply grade A combat drugs. We have several ships who engage in our less than savoury activities. And so, the first deal my lord wishes to arrange with you is the procurement of half a million human slaves, in exchange we will provide half their weight in our narcotics, to be delivered here." The words sang through Jabba's blood. "And, provided you continue to deal with us in good faith dear Jabba, you will remain our exclusive contractor for such things. And as a gift, we offer the services of these ladies and gentlement to your security retinue."

Jabba looked at them frowning as Bib Fortuna translated. "You would.. give me slaves?"

"No. We are offering their services. They are not slaves, they are some of the finest combatants we have available, and the prospect of death troubles them not at all. I would expect you to share a fair of payment for services to them so that they might live in comfort, as well as provide tutors to educate them in the languages you would need them to know."

"I accept this most generous offer, and I will make arrangments for a shipment of slaves." Jabba said. Then stopped as the woman looked at him closely.

"Slaves Jabba, I don't want your people to kidnap people to enslave just to trade to me, buy them from existing owners, shipments from other slavers and the like. We also don't pay full for damaged goods, we will take those who have had the misfortune of losing limbs or similar accidents, but they will be worth less, decided by the Captain of our ships who make the exchanges." With that Eleanora stood and walked from the chamber like a swift wind. The hatch closing behind her and leaving the Hutt with his new bodyguards.

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

Eleanora sighed and headed for Dark Room where she met her primary agent, Grey was hers. The visible face who served as spymaster. Grey knew of his own circles with an almost encyclopaedic knowledge, yet he didn't know of the four other circles she maintained, the white, black and red. The White circle were the sons and daughters of nobility playing spy among the upper echelons, reporting anything of interest to her through an Administratum wretch named Bibble. The Black were the scumcrawlers, the wretches and failed humanity of the underdecks and bilges, reporting on any problems with the peasants in the holds. But... but she keenly felt the loss of some of her favourites. The Red.

The Red were members of a Death Cult and their assassins served as her claws among her network. When wetwork needed to spill the red river run, she would give the word and they would paint the decks red with their targets. She had been forced to bring these out of the dark, and now Grey, waiting for her bowed as she came in, afraid to make eye contact.

"Mistress?" He asked.

"Do my claws have their care packages?" She asked not deigning to honour him with a glance. He had been hired for how utterly forgettable his features were, even his voice was almost totally unmemorable.

"Yes mistress, their personal cargo container has been laden with vox and pict thieves, local cogitators and nanoskulls. They even have several cyber-altered task units. The container was jettisoned with its cameleoline units engaged and will engage a hard entry before they leave. The murder-servitors on board the container will protect it. Though we may need to occasionally dispatch a maintenance unit to check on it sooner or later. The claws have had subcutaneous locator beacons, it will allow them to find the container, and if necessary, for us to find them."

"Does the container include a teleport beacon?" She asked.

"Yes maam." He answered.

"Good work Grey. I'm sure Sashana back in the red light quarter will be pleased you have some time to yourself, you do pay her so much better than her usual customers."

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 9;
The First Reports


Coruscant;
Palpatine enjoyed the palatial comfort of his office in the senate building, while also enjoying the discomfort of the Jedi who had yet to understand who the architect of their downfall would be in the future. What he did not enjoy, was the report sitting in front of him right now, a casual thought had him initially dismiss the reports as unimportant, another trade consortium could not really effect the flow of events, and of that he was certain. Then he examined them in detail because, as much as he was sure they couldn't, the force kept bringing his mind around to them as if in warning.

Their ships were monstrous. And the bulk of the ones that had been seen so far were larger than a Venator, and they regarded them as small. Could they have the ability to upset the stability of what he was trying to engineer? Or were they a potential ally that he could not afford to ignore?

"Master Plo Koon, it is a good thing you brought these reports to us, I am glad you could come at short notice." He said holding the datapad in hand.

The Jedi bowed slightly. "It was the least I could do."

"You said that these peoples seemed to be human centric?" Palpatine asked studying the Jedi's face.

"They do appear to be, there appeared to be almost no non-humans present on the 'Throne' and there was a level of passive disgust that I felt from almost all members of the crew and the Rogue Trader himself. I believe had I been there under any other circumstances that I would have been attacked by even the lowest of the ships crewmen, though the level of revulsions excesses seemed aimed at Jabba and his entourage. There was also an uncommon level of revulsion aimed at the CIS delegation's droids. They were simply not permitted to step from their shuttle at all, under threat of destruction." Plo Koon reported what was, functionally, already in the report, but the Jedi understood that many needed to hear the details, not simply read them in order to tease out details that may not have made it into the report.

"Would you say that they seemed inclined to sway against our interests or for them?" Palpatine said leaning back, doing his best to make this not seem like an interrogation.

Plo Koon had to consider the situation, call forth his memories, collate them and judge them in discreet pieces. Measuring what he knew against each other. "It is my opinion that, at this stage and possibly for some time to come that they will have little to no interest at taking sides. Arthurius seemed more interested in doing the best for his own people, as well as the significant accumulation of wealth and trophies."

"Do they represent a threat?"

This time Plo Koon hesitated for a much longer time. "I do not know. They appear to have some form of alternative faster than light travel, and their sublight speeds and acceleration are impressive. Beyond that I simply have no frame of reference, our sensors suggested that they had shields of some kind raised, yet our shuttles were able to pass through them in order to board. Their weapons are vast, large enough I could have flown a gunship down the bore without touching the sides, but until we see them in action, we have no frame of reference for their power or defences. But... I would hesitate to bait them into such a demonstration."

Palpatine mentally suppressed his thought. Because you are weak and reactive. Instead he questioned it. "Why would you hesitate?"

"Several reasons Chancellor, the first of which is that they have demonstrated no hostility or intent to be hostile unless provoked, the second of which is much simpler, we may very well find out and find we can't get the hutt back into the shell. Other reasons extend to a lack of willingness to spurn a potential trade partner, you saw the numbers that they gave us, even if they are half right, they could contribute to Republic victory, and despite our efforts you know that the news about the visitors have reached the holonet, and half the tech companies in the galaxy are clamouring for permission to go there and find out what they have, and are willing to trade. It is unwise to stick our hand in a gundarks nest." The preachy nature of the Jedi's words grated on him slightly, and more gallingly, they were echoing his own thoughts on the matter. Which was, unfortunately, one of the problems.

Count Dooku was an excellent apprentice, and he had made the same arguments to him based on the reports that he had received from the Nemoidian who had initially made contact, and it was reported, was now shopping around using his influence with various tech companies in the CIS. Which meant that the Rogue Trader had, almost immediately after first contact, began plying everyone he met for trade deals and money making.

"Thank you for your candor Master Plo Koon, you may leave whenever you are ready, I must discuss this with my advisors and decide on whether a formal or official response is required."

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

Serenno

His words to his master had left him cold, considering the situation within which he had found himself. The fact that the little worm who had the misfortune of making first contact had, instead of immediately coming to him, had instead begun burning the candle at both ends to make contact with his various industry contacts within the Trade Federation, Banking Clans and more. It had necessitated a direct summons before he could put the man in front of himself and demand a report and answers. And the picture building in his mind was that of... just another merchant. A merchant who had a severe superiority complex, some extremely excellent taste in interior design...

And the ability to just throw a quarter ton of platinum at one of his captains in exchange for introductions to industry contacts. Trusting such a figure was going to be difficult at best, but if those contacts could give them an edge against the Republic... his master would not approve of that. He understood the plan better than most did. Which meant that somehow he would need to sabotage the progress made by the visitor. But perhaps he should not? Maybe the visitors contributions could lead to his own gains. It was going to be difficult enough if Sidious demanded he dealt with Ventress. Perhaps if he... avoided... any such entanglements he could see which way the winds were blowing before he committed.

Or... maybe he could precipitate such an action. He would need to learn more before he could commit to any course of action. He keyed his communications. "Ventress."

"Yes master?" The hologram answered him.
"I have a task for you, it is... unlike... your normal tasks." Those words seemed to perk her interest and curiosity. Fortunately, she was not unintelligent.

"Is this related to the strangers master?"

"Yes. A Nemoidian Captain, Mol Kow is moving to arrange contact between this Rogue Trader and a number of industry contacts he has. I am dispatching you to meet his Lucrehulk, I want you to join this mission and represent my own interests. I want you to encourage learning something of their worlds before we commit to action. I want you to learn as much as you can. Language, culture, and leave now. The co-ordiantes of Mol Kow's ship is enclosed." He closed the comms with the data burst.

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

Tatooine

Jabba was, for all his reputation, a practical soul, and while he had no small anger over his treatment. The sheer scale of the operation that was being proposed by the stranger spoke to a lot of money to be had. Which is why, upon returning to his palace on Tatooine, he immediately had a few dozen or so debtors of his, human, brought before him for the most practical reason of all.

The case of samples had been opened and the four humans that had been given over into his service, for a fair pay, were quick to educate them in how most of the narcotics within were to be taken, dosages and methods. If they worked as advertised, then all would be good, and Jabba would forgive the transgressions against him for now in order to make money with the strangers. The first few were very mild, the lho and obscura produced strong reactions from the humans, but they were largely calmative effects, with the obscura producing a much stronger reaction sending the man into a somewhat dreamlike state. Those two would definitely make money, the admylladox produced no significant reactions, but the people from the strangers mentioned it was a painkiller and good for clearing the mind. Many of the other drugs had far more varied effects, opiatix, slaught and fervor all appeared to be high grade combat drugs, the slaught in particular sending the man into a killing frenzy forcing two of his guards to put him down with their vibro-axes. But the most profound was the one that they called spook.

The man who swallowed back the vial shot bolt upright onto his tiptoes, his body rigid in cruciform, the entire room was enveloped in a creeping hoarfrost spreading out from his position... "Kill him!?" Jabba said, uncertain as to how much danger they were in.

Two blasters fired and the bolts struck a field of energy surrounding the man as his eyes glowed like captured suns with stolen power. The effects did not last long, the hoarfrost melting in moments in the tatooine heat and the man collapsing back to his knees... "Please! More! I want to taste the power again!"

Jabba smiled. Spook. That was where the real money was going to come from. A taste of power.

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 10;
A Dark Load

Abross was not a genius, he was not even particularly intelligent, his educators wouldn't have even put him as mid, in fact his glimmering mediocrity in mental acuity had resulted in him going a great deal of nowhere in his life until certain figures had realised that, for all that he wasn't bright he DID have a low animals cunning, and made a good, if not exceptional, smuggler. What he had not envisioned was being a slaver. Yet now, here he was, with dozen of Jabba's other smugglers, with ships full of slaves. And peculiarly, all of them were human. Not a single twilek dancing girl in the lot. One of his colleagues even had a Hardcell class transport packed with slaves and they had all been dispatched to this singular location.

It was not in any system that Abross knew. It was at almost the limit of one with a angry red star, the location itself was in an asteroid belt marked only by a small moon, there were no facilities on it to provide light, only the dozen other smuggling ships. "This is Abross to Snooty Booty. You see anything?"

"Other than that ugly garbage scow you call a ship?" The answer was enough on its own. "That's weird though."

The words were not the kind of words any smuggler wanted to hear ever. EVER. "What?" He asked, then he saw it. Space didn't look right, almost invisibly, a boiling cloud of darkness had resolved itself. It hadn't been there before. And then it surged out of the boiling darkness, or the darkness fell around it as the colossus of a bow surged towards them almost like a terrifying wake. And as soon as it became visible they expected lights to snap on. And yet they didn't. The hull was as dark as midnight. Only when a hold towards its forward belly opened did any lighting emerge from the vessel.

And only then did they receive any transmission. <DOCK.ALPHA.FOLLOW GUIDES.LANDWITHIN>

Fear filled his gullet, but he had his orders, his little barge only had two hundred slaves all cramped into the hold, and enough of Jabba's guards to ensure that they didn't try an uprising. And yet, as he watched he saw Snooty scoot her booty up up into the open cargo hold. And with that guide, he followed.

There was more room than he knew what do do with. The Cargo hold in which he found himself ascending was fully a kilometre and a half long, and nearly a kilometre tall. The dozen smuggling ships hovered in the hold as its main hatch sealed itself with a glacial slowness. And then, with great care they set down on the deck. They clustered together, unsure of the protocol.

Finally, vehicles began to drive out to their position and took up station around them, most of them being some kind of flat bed truck, but there was no mistaking the six armored vehicles. Or the two armored trucks. What climbed down from those would live on in his nightmares for the rest of time. But after a moments hesitation he headed for the main ramp and lowered it, descending with a pair of Gammorean guards. The arrivals did not seem overly interested at this time, and he noticed that he was not the only one preparing to move to greet them.

One of the figures came forwards, a translation device clipped onto its lapel. The ostentatiousness of the uniform seemed at odds with the seemingly dark nature of the ship. "Welcome to the Profit from Hubris. Please follow all the rules and guidelines give to you or we promise you will be harmed." Well, it wasn't 'you will not be harmed'... but what legal operation was. "You will not leave the area more than fifty metres from your ship, you will be warned if you exceed this should you be unfamiliar or poor at estimating distances. You will provide the cargo manifest, complete. You will then wait on or near your vessel until we have verified the data and weighed the cargo in which you will be given payment. Your cargo will remain in the cargo hold, visible, until the completion of the onboarding process. Any attempt to leave the bay will be responded to with lethal force. Any attempt to take off without the bay being cleared and authorisation given will be responded to with lethal force. Any attempt to use force, for any reason, will be responded to with much more force. We are operating on a trust but verify system, we will trust your manifests. But we also verify their contents." The speech it seemed had come from another source, relayed through the elucidators.

The flunky stepped up to him. "Manifest please?" He held out his hand and the man took the dataslate, "Two hundred items of cargo, thirty percent female, seventy percent male.... thirteen percent children..." He muttered. "Ah. Parent/Child units. Excellent."

"If I may ask... what are you going to do with them?" He asked violating just about the most important rule of smuggling.

"Why, free them of course. Offer them a place in the Von Hydraxius dynasty." The man answered in a dead monotone. "Please disembark the cargo. Gently."

He gave the order and, his people began herding out the cargo onto the deck, where they began to gather fearfully in terror at the strange surroundings. And as they reached the ground, the figure who had demanded the manifest stepped forwards and began to speak in common, if of crude skill.

"Welcome to the Profit from Hubris ladies and gentlement, I apologise for the circumstances that have lead to you being brought before me, held enslaved by aliens and humans alike, I am Adept Simeon Cole, even as we speak, I have adepts preparing manumission documents for each of you, we are inviting you all to become citizens of the Imperium, protected by Imperial Law. If you consent we will conduct interviews to help determine where you might best like to live and choose your careers, alternatively we can help you return to worlds where slavery is prohibited and allow you to re-enter your original societies." A man spat on the deck.

"Return to our own societies! The ones that enslaved us!?" He snarled. A servoskull came forwards from somewhere in the ceilings above and a micro-rad cleanser was fired to purify the deck.

"Please I understand your displeasure, but try not to spit on the deck, we must keep a safe environment. But yes, if you wish. I would not wish to compel you, as I said you may choose to become a citizen of the Imperium, after which you will never know the hardships of slavery again." The Adept said.

"Why should we trust you... why are you doing this?" A woman asked.

"Humans being enslaved to xenos is among the foullest of heresies known to mankind and we will not stand for that. Nor will we allow humans to be enslaved again." The Adept remarked.

"If you keep buying slaves from them. Eventually they will start simply taking more." The first man said.

The Adept moved up, smiled and put a hand on each of the mans shoulders. "A single man with faith can triumph over a legion of the faithless. Untold billions of the faithful can never be opposed. For now we offer the carrot. Ever concealing the arm behind our backs wielding the switch. The time will come that kindness and coil will no longer suffice. When the greed of lesser beings becomes too great a burden to bear. And then they shall see the stick."

His head rose, locking back, a display of defiance that had never been successfully beaten out of him, Abross could see the scars testifying to that. "Give me the stick. And I will return what they gave me a hundred fold." Abross shuddered at the predatory smile that crossed the Adepts face.

They had brought but a pittance of what was asked, between all dozen ships they had less than two thousand. All of the people given a speech like that given to the group Abross had been responsible for bringing. Soon, the strangers had their forces moving crates upon crates up into his cargo hold, they were destined for Tatooine, Nal Hutta and Nar Shadaa, where they would be redistributed by smugglers with faster ships and smaller cargo holds. As the adept passed Abross did something... and stunned both himself and annoyed the Adept.

He reached out with a hand and grabbed the mans shoulder as he was inspecting the cargo. "Excuse me smuggler, unhand me."

He released his grip, seeing the pistol in the Adepts hands. "Adept Cole... I want to help, really help." The Adept's eyes narrowed.

"I am not surprised you might want to help your own kind. Keep on as you are, request duties making these runs. Learn whatever you can, copies of maps, hyperspace lanes where human slaves are held in great number, I believe you understand." The Adept said, holstering his pistol, then taking out something from his pocket, "Do not speak of this to anyone, if asked simply say it is a trinket from us. Should you see us, you will know us by the two-headed eagle, display that token, you will remain safe. Do not lose this token," The adept closed Abross' hand over it. "It is now gene-coded to you. Nobody can falsify it. Protect it with your life, for if your masters suspect that you mean more than to follow their words, it may be forfeit, the icon and your life. The Emperor protects."

Abross mimicked the sign the Adept made over his chest.

Since the Universe class has so much. The screenshot doesn't include all components. listed below.

4x Main Cargo Holds (Required for UCMVs)
Empyrean Mantle
Extended Supply Vaults
Micro-Laser Defence Grid
Flak Turrets
Murder Servitors
Salvage Systems
2x Shadowblind Bays
Teleportarium
Xenos Habitats
Xenos Librarium
Warp Sextant
Shadowfield
4x Auxiliary Plasma Banks for power
Medicae Deck
Laboratorium
Cogitator Interlink
Cloudmining Facility
Hydraphurian Jamming system.​

Click to shrink...

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 11;
A Scootch of Piracy

Pundar was proud of himself, he was always proud of himself, it was not everybody who could, with the help of a few mates, reprogram the battle droids of a Lucrehulk and abscond with the whole ship. He had heard stories a dozen times now of a vessel that would occasionally visit Tatooine, and so now, he had paid handsomely to find out when that ship was making a run, its fourth that his people knew of. It would arrive in the outer system as it always did before making its way into the system.

The vessel was almost exactly on time, and the micro-jump had been pre-calculated that dropped him into range. The strange ship was only a kilometre shorter in length than his own vessel, and its width was not inconsiderable. But he did see what he hoped to. A very poor number of guns. They appeared to be mostly defensive. And so it was that he ordered communications jammed and a channel opened to the strangers ship. Allegedly they had translators.

"This is the Profit. Captained by the dread pirate Pundar, formerly of the Trade Federation! You will heave to and prepare to be boarded." To his very great disappointment, the vessel actually did what he ordered. Their drives went quiescent. They ran a series of lights that he did not understand, and then his comms channel opened.

"Oh no, Dread pirate Pundar! Please don't hurt us! We will give you everything, just spare our lives!" Now THAT was what he liked to hear. Which was itself VERY suspicious.

"What the hells?" He wondered aloud, after making sure he wasn't hitting the transmit button. He didn't have much experience with humans, but they didn't REALLY sound all that scared. Finally he mentally shrugged. "Bring us about and bring the prow of their vessel into the docking clamps. Activate the Battle Droids and prepare our Vultures if we need to."

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

"So, the pool is now open, we are now taking wagers." The bosun of the At Least a Little Gravitas roared to the bridge crew. "Is this a bullshit pirate to test our ability, some dumb asshole who fancies himself a proper pirate, a false flag operation. Come now people, betting time is now, bend over your cogitators and enter your wagers to the crew record. And one wager only, I won't have any of you dogrobbers trying to double-dip with fancy pants shit. You know who you are Davidson." The Captain, Ariel Ericsdottir did not bet, and did not vote. Hers was the supreme arbitration. The resolver of disputes. The goddess of war and victory aboard the Little Gravitas. And when the situation called for it. The goddess of profit sharing.

"Bosun, wake up the ladies and gentlemen in their barracks with a little shower." The order went out and the Bosun paled a little. The occupants of the Barracks were good men to have in a boarding fight. They were just.... unpleasant to be around personally. And the Captain just ordered him to activate the fire suppression for the barracks.

"Aye Cap'n."

She stood up with a smile. As the crew went silent she put on a voice. "OH great and mighty Pundar! We beg thee to do us no harm!" The transmission was silent.

"Then order your people to give us no trouble, anyone resists and we will open fire!" The tinny voice came out of the Elucidator. Ariel smiled and waited. The large vessel, actually larger than her own vessel moved in front of them, looming against the prow and moving to pull her vessel into its clamps. "They are not very bright."

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

Colonel Langstrom hated showers. Especially when he was still in his cot when they occured. And yet, throughout the barracks he could hear his men and women howling at the injustice of their musk being washed away by the indignities of the sprinkler system. It took time to cultivate their musk. It wasn't until he saw the blinking light of his personal cogitator that he went over and checked it. His eyes blazing.

"ABOUT FARKING TIME!" He stabbed the vox. "ALLRIGHT YOU MIGHTY CUNTS, I WANT EVERYONE IN THEIR VOID ARMOUR IN THE NEXT FIVE MINUTES. NO EXCEPTIONS. We have a wolf!" At his words, echoed through every commbead in the regiment, every single one of the six thousand men howled like a demented animal.

As he ripped open the locker containing his voice armour he begant to sing into his throat mic.

"YOUR PIRATE SHIP CAN EAT A BAG OF DICKS"

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

"The ship is locked into place." There was a pause... "Captain Pundar... what is that sound?" They turned towards the viewport looking out into space. And felt a sense of horror building up. Mechanical sections on the ships prow had split and opened, and a massive turret was emerging from the spine of the vessel.

"RAISE SHIELDS! Detach docking clamps!"

"We can't Captain! The opening sections have wedged the arms in place!" He found himself staring down the yawning portal of a massive weapon.

He didn't know what to do. "Uhm..."

"Incoming transmission...." The Nemoidian went paler than usual... "It's... weird."

"What..." He was stunned, uncertain how to proceed. "Wha... uhm. What is that?" He pointed as hatchways opened in the craft, almost invisible behind the opened prow. And ramps were run over the gaps, clattering down onto the deck of the hangar bay.

Several of them moved over towards the viewport. "... oh my... we're... WE'RE BEING BOARDED!" The horrified realisation struck them like a hammer. Malevolent blue light began to glow in the open barrel facing the spheroid part of the Lucrehulk. "Uhm.. what is that turret doing?"

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

Battle droids clattered as quickly as they could across the deck their blasters raised as hundreds of men surged down the ramps that had been run out. They spread out slowly and took a knee raising physical shields in one arm as they laid down their weapons into a receiving cutout. Blaster bolts blasted divots into the the slabs of metal and then the answering fire spread like a firestorm. Sweeping volleys of light sheeted out like chambered lightning. "Ok. Combat Line. Advance one hundred metres. Give them room to unlimber the heavy weapons squads. Baxter, time until the Sentinels move in."

"Forty seconds sir." The Vox operator called back.

"Blundsen, get that sungun up and shoot that fucking walking thing!"

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

The command centre was alive and struggling to make sense of the data and command their forces, invasion forces had moved across both rings, and were advancing hard. The bizarre blinding blue white bolts some of them fired had proven terrifyingly effective, slaying a number of his limited stock of Vulture Droids. And so now the order had simply come to force the matter with B1 droids en mass. Perhaps fifty thousand on each side with AAT's would tip the scales. "Keep an eye on that turret!"

"It's turning to the starboard arc sir."

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

"Emperor's blood. Those little clockwork toys aren't hard to kil... is that a tank?" He snarled and reached for Blundsen. Pulling the vox horn off of his back. "This is Lieutenant Mycos to the Bridge. We have significant enemy force gathering with armored support. Estimate ten degrees down arc."

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

The entire Lucrehulk rocked as the turret fired. The connection betwee it and the Q-ship that had bound itself in tight and counter-invaded them was nearly broken by the recoil of the colossal weapon firing. The ballistic shell hammered out and struck before they even had time to know it had fired, the Pyros melta cannon turret had sent the shell into the ring above the hangar roughly where the transmission had indicated, the themal bloom cutting through the Lucrehulks limited armour as if it were not even there. The melta charges obliterating everything in the open space beneath where it penetrated.

The horror in the bridge of the Lucrehulks command centre could not be overstated as they watched an entire section of the hull become concave, melting and flowing away from the strike area.

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

"Good Strike. Proceeding with mission." The response from the Lieutenant came and Ariel looked down at the gunnery command pit.

"Well done. Prepare to adjust for fire on the other ring. Vox. Prepare to open channel." She ordered as she studied the readouts. The recoil had almost inflicted damage, the open hardpoint doors of the prow wedging the ship in place actually tearing significantly into the structure of it. "Status on second assault?"

"Reporting increasing droid numbers. They'd really like it if Big Bertha would give them a kiss, eleven degrees."

"Do it."

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

The order came almost too late. "Open fire on that turret with everything we can bring to bear!" The Profit was not up to standard for a CIS Battleship, they had gone rogue after the affair on Naboo, and thus had never received the upgraded systems that would be needed for something like this. "FIRE FIRE FIRE!"

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

Ariel had waited, wondering how long it would take, the void shields snapping to full power, unfortunately not every turret was outside of the void shield perimeter, the ones near the ends of the arms were all in position to fire on her. And they did. Rapid fire energy bolts from the quad turrets. "Bertha, fire free. Clean the carapace of those guns. Helm, twist us five degrees port. Open communications."

A thumb was raised.

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

"This is Lord Captain Ariel Ericsdottir of the At Least a Little Gravitas to the pirate vessel Profit. You have engaged in hostile action against the Imperium and House Hydraxius, and as such your lives belong to me. If you surrender now, we will impound your ship, and see you receive a fair trial. If you do not surrender now..."

Pundar felt horror as the blue light reached a blinding crescendo and then he couldn't see. He was blinding the blinding blue afterimages from his vision even as his weapons tried to bring down the defences of the enemy ship. The shield dropped and he saw fire reaching their hull, striking the target turret, and less than sixty seconds later... "What happened!?"

"I don't know! Their shields came back on at full strength! That's just not possible!?" One answered. Another chimed in. "We have... we have a eighty metre hole cored through the starboard arc, only a few degrees more and we might have lost engines, the starboard side of the core ship has been damaged."

"Can we detach and escape?"

The comms barked again. "You have a hundred and twenty seconds to decide before I send someone over there more directly."

"They can try! But not before we escape!"

"Begin detaching procedures."

"We are working on it now Captain, they... haven't been used in a while."

What was that light? Pundar wondered two minutes later.

A blast of encarmine light shattered their peace as in the very middle of the bridge ten armoured people just appeared fully! They were not there a moment ago. And then they were. The figure in front who he guessed was their captain only by the ornate golden nature of her armour which hid both body and face, simply stepped up to him and his own second in command. The weapon in her right hand ROARED at them. Metal teeth shrieking around a track as, at random, she ran the screaming blade through his second in command. The Nemoidian howled and shrieked in terror for what seemed like an impossibly long time for the damage being wrought on his internal organs before he expired messily.

"Does anyone want to shut down the droids? Or do I have to do this at random until I find someone more co-operative!?" Her words were command and query.

"DO WHAT SHE SAYS!" Pundar snarled in sudden terror and panic.

"Very good Xenos. You can learn." One hand came up and pointed at the eye lenses of her helmet. "I am the Captain now."

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 12;
The Breaking Yard

Pundar followed the orders given by the woman with an alacrity that was unusual for a Nemoidian, but it was also not every day that you saw your second in command turned into hamburger meat with a chainsword. The co-ordinates that they were heading for were not in any system that Pundar knew of, they weren't in any chart... somewhere in deep space perhaps? And then, with a command they hurtled into hyperspace. Whether the other vessel followed he did not know, but it only took moments for the jump, such a short hop would never have taken long.

The woman simply waited. Time ticked on before space tore open and her ship appeared a thousand kilometres away. "Head for the second Gas Giant in the outer reaches, between the fifth and sixth rings. You will find a beacon there." He gave the orders and begun preparing for a hyperspace jump when the blade touched his throat. "Realspace transit. You have main engines. Use them." His irritation was suppressed entirely by the feeling of metal teeth on his throat.

"Do as she says." And thrust began to build in the Lucrehulk as it surged towards the gas giant. It was truly an enormous example of its kind and he suspected that it might not have been too much of a stretch to suggest it was more of a failed star, on the borderline of having sufficient mass to cause fusion. Soon enough he saw what they were heading for, there was a facility built into the size of a moon...

It wasn't a facility he realised with horror. Twelve kilometres long and lit up, vast piers extended from the body of a ship that was there, tethered to the moon by what looked like a space elevator, if on a smaller scale and Pundar realised that he was looking at a resource extraction site, a mine extending deep into the rock. Four other vessels were docked at the Piers and the woman nodded as the got closer. "Move into high anchor next to the Singing Lady. All crew of this ship are to report to the portside arc where they will be removed by shuttle and processed."

"Processed?" Pundar said, a thrill of terror going through him.

The faceless void armour turned to face him. "You committed a criminal act against House Hydraxius, and by your own admission are wanted for piracy elsewhere." He debated reaching for the weapon at her hip. "Of course, I would be well within my rights to simply vent you all from the nearest airlock. But my Lord has commanded that even a foul xenos like you deserves to be captured and turned over to the justice of the courts." She cocked her head and his blood chilled to near absolute zero. "Maybe you could reach for my pistol and I could claim you were resisting arrest, Lord Hydraxius wouldn't question it..." The crazy woman actually removed the pistol from its holster and held it out grip first towards Pundar. "Please, let's make this easier on one of us."

He decided the safest course of action was to bury his hands and play pocket pool instead. "No thank you."

The woman sighed. "Pity."

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

As they grew closer and closer he felt his skin crawl, he was being drawn along with the group from the bridge of the Profit, and he saw the troops that had invaded his ship were mounting onto transports. And the troops replacing them were terrifying. Cyborgs moved with weapons held at ready. Their language was unlike anything they knew, but the leaders of each unit had these elucidators on their robes and moved issuing barking commands.

The terror of it was gripping Pundar as he saw them moving around. His soul quailed when he saw that they were being loaded in groups of twenty into what looked nothing quite as subtle as a shipping container. Eventually however a massive figure, augmented to the point where he could not see where machine and man began or ended came up to square in front of him. Studying him with a mechanical expression. "Pundar. Pirate. Height. Two point one metres. Hygeine. Soiled." Only then did Pundar realise he had lost control of his bladder. "You." These were the first words directly addressed to him.

"Yes... sir?"

"Sir is acceptable. Magos is preferable. Describe your familiarity with ship technical systems and operational tolerances." The being wasn't even looking at him now, but at a digital slate.

"I am very familiar with the ships operations, though I am no engineer." He answered his voice shaky.

"Scientific training?" The query was pointed.

"None."

The figure turned away. "Group Rho." And suddenly he was being pushed towards one of the cargo containers. As several more people were shoved in, the container closed and all light in the universe went out.

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

The container was filled with a sense of terror for almost four hours, the air beginning to go stale quickly, the temperature in the container going terrifically cold for a while before body heat began to raise the temperature to almost intolerable levels. When the container opened. Fear filled him. The rear of the container pushed against them, shoving them out into a large, for want of a better word, paddock of metal fencing, topped with vicious looking wire that arced with electricity. He realised they were on one of the piers of the massive ship, the windows facing out into space. They were goaded out further into the pen by some sort of goad. Pundar was busy staring at his vessel.

Four other vessels were visible moving close to it now. Two of them looked very similar to one another, massive as they were, the seemed to be performing in a support role, though he was unable to read the names Xenotechnica and Secret of Steel he knew they were likely not dedicated warships. Unlike the two smaller. The Fractal Mathematics had a bay open, and he could see small craft moving large segments of metal into its maw. The Perfection of Pi lacked the hangars evident on the Fractal Mathematics, but the nasty cannons were clear to see even from here. And yet, it too was receiving parts. "Where are they ge..." He stopped as he realised.

The vessel he was on, the Singing Lady, it had deployed armatures and equipment along the extent of the Spacedock piers, thousands of crew were even now disassembling the Profit.

"What are they doing to my ship!" He wailed out loud.

"Statement: False. Vessel Impounded. The vessel does not in fact belong to you." The statement came from one of their overseers. Just looking at the figure made him shudder.

"What are they doing!?" He wailed again.

"Salvage. Your vessel will improve our understanding. It may be a foul xenos technology, but new understandings are required." The figure said. "For now, we conduct the disassembly at a safe remove from Tanakred. Once we have reduced it to components we will move back in-system to our Forgeworld where the components will be shipped to the forges for study. The Fabricator General has placed a highest dibs code on the Hyperdrive systems."

Pundar realised that his situation was truly dire now, if his vessel was completely disassembled he would never escape. "I could help."

"False Statement; Internment Interview concludes you lack the scientific or engineering expertise to qualify for Grade Tertius Exception to the Extradition pool." The figure answered.

His blood ran cold however. "Extradition pool?"

"You are a known and wanted pirate by both the Confederacy of Independent Systems and the Republic. We will auction you to one or the other." He... he was on an auction block?

"Who are you?" Pundar said plainly. Querying his captor for anything useful.

"Skitarii Marshal Sextus Ancillus. You are quite fortunate." The Marshal said. "The majority of your crew were not of interest to the Republic or Confederacy, as mere minor accomplices, neither is willing to pay for their return. As such they will be interred in a Penal Work Gang for five years for their crime."

"You... you are enslaving us?"

"Statement = False. Indentured servitude for the majority of crew. Meanwhile, your situation is quite lucky." The Marshal explained.

"Lucky!? HOW. Either I end up in prison for many years, or executed." Pundar snarled.

"I did not say it was lucky for you."

Singing Lady Supplemental Components.

4x Aux Plasma Banks
4x Main Cargo Holds
Spacedock Piers
Salvage Systems
Melodium
Asteroid Mining Facility
Arboretum
Manufactorum​

Click to shrink...

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 13:
Merchantile Developments

Asajj Ventress watched as the droids guided the Providence Class Dreadnought in with the various delegates from corporate interests in the confederacy with a deft hand. They had followed a hyperspace course to a system that was almost beautiful. It's golden sun shined down on more than a dozen worlds, though only one bore life and it was the one they were... prohibited from approaching. Instead their course was set for a space station near a gas giant almost unsettlingly close to the star. It took her a moment before she realised it wasn't a space station, though its space docks were extended and holographic lights showing them their assigned berth. There were three ships forming a patrol around the monster.

And Ventress seriously questioned whether such a vessel even needed protection. The rest of the battlegroup with which she was familiar was also present in the system the sensor records of them at Tatooine unmistakable. "Sithspit, how can such a vessel be so ugly... and so impossibly beautiful." That came from one of the delegates that had come up to the bridge to observe their approach. The comment made her turn her attention back to it.

At twelve kilometres in length, it utterly dwarfed the Providence. And it seemed that every single square metre of external space was designed with its creators idea of beauty in mind. The flanks were endowed with statues almost as tall as the ship itself. Bearing weapons, sigils and symbolism she couldn't understand. "I want a closer look at that book." She pointed at a statue, and the B1 manning the station increased the zoom on the screen for her. "How tall is that lettering."

The B1 zoomed in again. And again. And a third time. "According to my calculations each letter is three centimetres in height." She hesitated before answering, and decided to just stand back up instead. She looked again as they got closer and moved up to the window to look out directly. There were domes on the top where she could see what looked like farmland and forest within.

The Droid Commander in charge of the ship spoke. "Three minutes to hard dock."

As they got closer, the details became even more intimidating. There were entire frescoes hundreds of metres high embedded in the hull wall between statuary, depicting various scenes from the history of these people. She saw trains moving along the exterior of the hull, glass and looking out into space. And then, too quickly, they were coming to a halt as massive clamps reached out and took the Providence's hull in its claws. She saw the metal nearly a kilometre away begin to buckle before someone reduced the power on the clamps and they settled quietly.

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

She did not feel very comfortable as she gathered with the various representatives that were waiting to board the vessel, the docking hatch opened and she saw a passage extending towards the Spacedock, using courage the others didn't have she simply began to walk across as their private security moved close after her, only with the bodyguards moving did the others move at all. And when they reached the other side of the airgate the doors opened slowly. She felt tension and paranoia eat at her and she felt herself reaching for her lightsabers before she recognised that it was simply the opening speed, the doors were well over a metre thick. And even they were decorated with artwork.

When the doors stopped, she began to step through and stopped. She had been in wealthy places before, including Count Dooku's palace and the Senate Building on Coruscant when she was younger. And this made them look like a paupers attempt to show what wealth looked like.

And the group waiting for them helped reinforce that opinion. The elegant woman standing there at the forefront looked at them with a kindly smile. "I am Vanessa Ashburnum Wolseley Von Hydraxius, I am your hostess for this evening, as you are aware you are here to engage in negotiations with House Hydraxius for tonight however, I will be taking you on a tour of the Testament to Size. Ms Ventress, if you can please turn over your power swords to security for the duration of your stay please?"

Asajj Ventress blinked in surprise, and hesitated.

"Please Ms Ventress, I will personally vouch for your safety while you are aboard this vessel." And, to her own surprise, she found herself with her lightsabers in hand, and passing them gently over to the woman. She passed one off to a security officer and carefully she ignited the blade. "A beautiful weapon... curious though."

"Curious?" Asajj asked wondering whether she should be offended. And, surprising her once more the woman took a baton off of her belt.

"Yes, your power sword appears to be based on a thermal principle using plasma to transfer heat as its damage mechanism, it lacks any of the typical characteristics that we are used to seeing. If you'll observe." This Vanessa ignited the baton in her hands and a bright white energy blade extended from it. And its field crackled with lightning, "Our own equivalent use matter disruption fields to do much the same work." She quieted her own blade and returned the baton to her belt.

"Are you a Jedi, a user of powers?" A look of hate and rage crossed the womans face so fleetingly she almost missed it.

"No Ms Ventress, we do not have your force, those who have an equivalent we refer to as psykers and I possess no such talents thanks to the benificence of the Emperor." Vanessa explained. "Thank you for your trust, for the rest of you, we will require you to turn over the blasters you have on your person as well."

"You would expect us to give up the means to defend ourselves?" The representative for the Trade Federation asked politely.

"I am afraid that it is policy, we will protect you as if you were our own children for the duration of your stay. I give you my word, that should any harm come to you, the perpetrator of that harm will be brought to justice, likely fatal." Ventress admired the woman, she had an unusual charisma and the representatives were found divesting themselves of the weapons on their person as she too had. She had other means to defend herself if necessary however.

Once that was done, they departed the lounge by climbing onto a maglev that ran the length of the spacedock pier, heading towards the ship proper. Vanessa's voice carried by some mechanism she was unable to spot, perhaps some sort of augment? "Welcome to the Testament to Size, it is a Universe Class Mass Conveyor, she is a sprightly four thousand years old, young for her class, and well furnished with the finest technology the Dynasty could invest in. Many trade agreements were made to facilitate her outfitting. Our first destination, as you have noticed, will be the primary airgates where we will pass into the vessel and take another maglev six kilometres aft. From there we will be visiting the Barracks, once there you will be issued with secure passes and micro-beads for communication with our liason officers on board."

"The Barracks?" One of the delegates asked.

Vanessa smiled, "Of course, we maintain a Regiment of the Astra Militarum as a bolster to ship board security. This vessel has a crew of sixty thousand with up to half a million passengers." As they got closer to the main hull suddenly Ventress could hear music. "Right now you can hear the Melodium, it plays at all times to ensure that everyone on board is calm and relaxed, in private quarters there are controls that allow you to moderate the volume to your own tastes. After we have passed through the Barracks we will ascend to the Luxury Quarters where you will be shown your quarters for the duration of your stay."

And suddenly they were debarking from the maglev to mount another more ornate system. It was a work of art all on its own, and as soon as the doors shut with a musical trill the train accelerated towards the aft of the vessel. This time Ventress ventured a question. "If I may, is there a reason we are heading for the aft section?"

"Of course. It's where most important functions of the vessel are situated, the prow of this venerable girl is twenty metre thick adamantium armour prow, immediately chased by the four primary cargo holds." Vanessa explained, "If you imagined that the bridge is up there, I am glad to tell you it is not, I would not want a ships bridge to be up where we might be forced to use our armoured prow to ram somebody."

That silenced all conversation for a fair amount of time as they processed the idea that a vessel of such scale would ever want, or be able, to ram something. And they decelerated, the door trilling open. The airlock arrangement revealed to them that each door was over a metre thick. The sheer level of armouring was troubling as they moved in deeper into the vessel into what was unmistakably a barracks.

They were guided across a parade ground with almost fifty armored vehicles on it. None of which appeared to use repulsorlifts. And Ventress' skin crawled as she saw the men waiting for them, no, three men and a woman. All of them were in a black and gold uniforms. And the man was sized well enough to make a night brother insecure and one of his eyes had been replaced with some sort of cybernetic replacement. The look he gave her made every instinct in her body scream to fight or flee.

"Welcome to the Barracks of the Markesh 69th. I am Colonel Adumar Marfont. Please come forward one at a time and fill out this document here. It has been provided in Basic by our Tech Adepts, once you have filled in your document move along to my second Lieutenant Addison Morgan, she will provide you with your security badge, you must wear it at all times outside of your assigned quarters. Lieutenant Addison will also provide you with the secure key for your quarters. Do not lose it, those keys are older than all of you combined."

Ventress, once more, was the first to step forwards and she raised an eyebrow at the paperwork. It was surprisingly simple, her name, relative age, occupation, dietary restrictions and preferences. And so with a minimum of fuss she filled it out and provided it to the man who nodded and let her pass to the Lieutenant. "Lieutenant," She began, "Are these measures normal?"

The woman smiled, and Ventress wished she hadn't. The womans smile held about as much warmth as an icy asteroid. "Oh no maam. They're really rolling out the gold carpet for you. Normally there would also be a mandatory delousing, genoprint testing and identity checks if applicable." She clicked her fingers. "Almost forgot the cavity searches... we've got handheld auspexes for finding that kind of thing but sometime you just have to get the latex glove on and go in raw to sh..." She coughed. "Well, let's just say no, you're getting the royal treatment."

Ventress shrugged. And took her security badge and room key. "Thank you." she said politely.

The woman had already moved her interest past her to the next person.

Spoiler: Testament to Size

• 4 Main Cargo Holds (required)
• Medicae Deck
• Melodium
• Micro-Laser Defence Grid
• Librarium Vault
• Laboratorium
• Flak Turrets
• Extended Supply Vaults
• Cogitator Interlink
• Broadband Hymn-Casters
• Barracks
• Armour Plating
• Arboretum
• Murder-Servitors
• Pharmacia
• Recovery Chambers
• Reinforced Interior Bulkheads
• Sensorium
• Ship's Stores
• Spacedock Piers
• Teleportarium
• Trophy Room
• Xenos Habitats
• Xenos Librarium
• Luxury Passenger Quarters

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 14;
The Grand Tour

They moved on from the barracks into an elevator made of gold and glass that rose through the decks, and the soft music in the background continued before a skull inset in the wall spoke. <DECK NINETY> And the doors hissed open, Vanessa lead the way and Asajj found that she had little concept of direction, the vessels vastness didn't seem to have any sensible deck plan she could picture in her own mind. Returning the way she came if she was in trouble should be possible, but it would not be simple. And the lushly appointed area they found themselves in was beautiful, a fountain burbled in a square. "Are.. are these stone flagstones?"

Vanessa shrugged. "Yes, quarried from Xexus 4. A world quite dead now, so the stone from it is quite valuable to collectors. To us however, it's just a very nice stone used to decorate the Luxury Quarters here. Ms Ventress, these are your quarters." Asajj stepped up and removed the key from her pocket and inserted it into the receiver. The hatch unlocked and opened inwards and she saw palatial quarters, not just a room, but an entire suite of rooms. And...

There was a woman in there tidying up. "There's a woman in my room."

"Of course, our guest quarters intended for foreign dignitaries are full service, we would not lower ourselves to using servitors for that function." Vanessa explained before nodding her head at the woman who curtseyed and left the chamber. "If you ever require anything please push this control here," She demonstrated to the rest of the group who had crowded in to examine things, "this vox link goes directly to housekeeping control and they will dispatch someone to provide for your needs." The next ten minutes were spent showing the rest of the delegates to their own sets of suites.

Ventress stabbed another control near one wall and with a rattling clatter blast shutters at least a metre thick rumbled aside to reveal a ceiling to floor viewport leading to space itself. With a turn she stepped from the quarters back into the atrium where Vanessa was returning with the delegates. "We're all here. Excellent, please follow me." They followed her onto another station, where yet another train was waiting for them.

"If I may, are there faster methods to transit the ship?" Asajj asked.

Vanessa smiled, "There is the teleportarium. Very few people enjoy that method however." Was the only answer before the train began travelling back towards the ships prow. They emerged from a tunnel and everyone on board exhaled with awe. The railway was flanked by an avenue of statues, and she noticed it was an elevated rail over a walkway running the length of the vessel, only interrupted where it curved around the base of a series of turrets. They were headed for one of the domes. "Welcome to the Hall of Victory."

They stepped through and Asajj reached for lightsabers she didn't have. Standing there in front of them was a monster far taller than even a Rancor. It was terrifying to behold, and its middle pair of arms carried a living weapon. It took her a moment to realise that there was a hole through its chest as wide as her head.

"A Hive Tyrant killed by my father on board the Throne when it was boarded by a Razorfiend Cruiser. We lost almost three thousand voidsmen that day turning back a splinter fleet with the Imperial Navy." It was then that Asajj looked past the Hive Tyrant into the rest of the Hall of Victory. Aliens in crude mechanised armour. Pieces of hull. She was in a trophy hall. Hanging from the ceiling was an entire starfighter of massive size. Vanessa noticed her looking, "A Drukhari Void Raven Bomber. It's theft was the beginning of the alliance between Von Hydraxius and Celdona. You are also to be blessed with the opportunity to meet our xenos allies at this function. They have matters to discuss with my father, and expressed a curiosity over meeting you all as well." One of the representatives spoke next.

"Are all of these trophies from beings you have killed?" He said, with some trepidation.

"For the majority yes, whether trophies taken from worthy enemies defeated or pieces taken from the remains of their ship. Such as this item, this artefact was taken from a Rak'gol vessel, please do not touch the case, it is highly radioactive and while the case is shielded we would prefer not to take chances." She explained pointing at it, "It is part of the engine core for a Stutter Fission-Pulse Drive. Inefficient garbage, but rare to find one intact enough for display." Vanessa demurred, "However, not all the trophies present here are from militaristic undertakings, there are copies of significant trade charters agreed upon, artefacts from the founding of our colony worlds, a coin collection old Barbastus Von Hydraxius had been maintaining..."

She guided them around a corner to another display chamber and they saw at least a hundred thousand coins in armoured cases along the walls. "Old Barbastus was an aventurous soul, some three thousand years ago he made it his lifes mission to collect at least one rare coin from every Imperial World he had ever visited, as of the time of his passing the collection was up to two hundred and ninety one thousand four hundred and seven. Each coin is marked with the world it was sourced from and the year. About four coins a year he managed."

"What is in there." The Nemoidian representative pointed at a red and black door. It was covered in what looked like nothing less than a hundred warnings.

"The Black Zone. Where cognito hazard trophies are stored in properly warded and sealed cases. There are only four objects in that zone. I will not be showing you anything in that zone." Vanessa explained, her friendly welcoming voice turning cold.

"What is a cognito hazard?" Ventress asked looking at the door.

There was a moment when she thought the woman wouldn't answer. "A hazard to your mind, soul and sanity. Those who are properly trained can resist them for a time, but prolonged exposure to them is invariably fatal."

"Why keep such items?"

Vanessa cocked her head. "Because they're rare of course."

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

The Trophy Room, eventually, was put behind them as they stepped out into a small copse of a forest that expanded onto farmland. The Arboretum was a place that supplemented the ships ability to feeds its people, and was largely responsible for feeding the guests on board while the crew made do with the regular fare. They could hear the lowing of some sort of livestock as well, but were told it would not be advised for them to encounter the Grox. Their journey across the Arboretum once more concluded by climbing into a train and passing through into another far wider habitat. This one was not covered with farmland, but with unusual flora and fauna, an utterly alien landscape to the one the observed before. They passed towards the centre of the habitat and a large atrium building squatting in the centre.

It looked almost like it was made from bone. "This is the Forum." The train came into a wide rail around the outside edge and stopped at a platform that fit the train perfectly. Without further ado Vanessa stepped from it. "Here is where we will decide the future, together."

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 15;
Negotiations Part 1

Arthurius moved through the private hangar on the flagship, preparing for his work aboard the Testament. The other figures had finally arrived after the extensive briefing they had received by his Astropath. He was alone and for good reason. As soon as he saw the four figures he smiled brightly, walking over to the tall and thin aeldari corsair and folding her into the warm embrace of old friends. "Celdona, I'm glad to see you here." He released her and slapped a wrist into a warriors clasp with the votanni Captain. "Thorhall, it good to see you." He turned and presented a box to the next Captain, "Plok, your box of crackers." the fourth figure had never, ever, formally or otherwise been accepted as part of the Dynasty. It was the kind of agreement that would have seen him executed. "Cryptek Apo'phis." He bowed slightly.

There was an uncommon thread of joviality in the room, an acceptance that was utterly prohibited to most Imperial society, and could get even he executed by the Inquisition. Celdona looked saddened, "Art, it is a gift to see you. But I would ask you to bear in mind that we may not be able to help you in the same ways to which you are accustomed."

That made him blink and cock his head before he connected the dot. "Of course Celdona, as with we, you don't have the population to risk, perhaps you never did."

"With the warp in this galaxy calm, free from Sai'lanthresh's nature, many of us feel that it is best to focus on procreation. There are so few of us." She said putting a hand in a familiar gesture. Arthurius nodded.

"I do understand. I am having to reverse ten thousand years of stagnant policies in order to arrest the cultural suicide my people would practice if they just hurtled themselves at any perceived enemy heedless, to speak nothing of using blood to grease the gears of industry..." He said and this time it was the demiurg captain who snorted.

"Humans tend to spend lives like coin, ye'll not find that inertia easy to arrest boy." Thorhall was tall for a Votann, almost a full five feet tall. Well, a little over four and a half. And his beard was almost by definition epic. He was old, very very old for Votann.

"How fares the Rock and Stone?" Arthurius asked.

The demiurg cocked his head, "Hardier than anything you mount, we are less concerned with procreation than the wee aeldari, but with close to a hundred thousand people compared to what? Fifteen, twenty? thousand on the Aethyrium? So what is our purpose here? To my knowledge we have never all gathered." He, like Celdona, had difficulty looking over at the Cryptek.

The kroot shaper-captain had no such concerns. "We have no such concerns. But curiosity, why are we all called for conclave?"

+"An Excellent Question."+ The necron said, with a hint of a vocalised smile.

"I have given you everything we have so far on the local powers of this galaxy and its political situation. The short of it is that while our vessels are larger than the local equivalents they do have technologies unknown to us that are extremely useful at the very least. For all the power we have, their faster than light travel is faster than.... most of ours." A pointed look at the Crytek followed by a shrug.

Apo'phis did speak then. "Our Inertialess Drives do remain faster. But these hyperdrives are more accessible." The Cryptek admitted.

"For now however. I would suggest we remain cautious. Now, shall we proceed over to the Testament?" They all nodded in agreement.

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

Wat Tambor could not help but admire the structure of the Forum. And he would have loved to admire it further, but he wasn't in the Forum, he was, right now, in one of the vast cargo holds representing Baktoid Armor Workshop. Cybernetically enhanced humans moved around and vast cranes were working as they set up. The Rogue Trader himself stood on a stand observing the proceedings, and Wat moved up the stairs to meet with the man. "Your ship is a marvel." He said flatteringly.

"She's a work of art. At a tender age of four thousand two hundred I have spent a great deal on making her the core of my diplomatic functions. You must be Wat Tambor." A hand was extended for Wat to shake and uncertainly, he took it. The mans grip was very firm. But he turned to the displays. "We have been briefed about the Baktoid Armor workshop and have prepared some test pieces you might find interesting. We also purchased a selection of blaster weapons from the Hutts for the purposes of demonstration."

"What kind of materials have you prepared for us." Wat asked.

"We have been conducting tests using our purchased blaster weapons and ultimately, we find the blaster to be a wanting weapon of war, the projectile velocity is far too slow, its damage is mediocre but not terrible. What we want to do is run a comparison between them and our own Lasguns. Without our normal obligations we find ourselves with a grotesque surplus of las weapons." The Rogue Trader said as if he was unconcerned by this. "Other offerings are more material related, various armour alloys as well as raw material is available for purchase. We've come up with values using various common materials as a baseline. Iron for example."

"You expect us to trust your numbers?" Wat asked plainly.

"If you want my products. Yes." Was the only answer and Wat had to admire the balls of the newcomer. If he thought that he could deceive the Foreman of the Techno-Union he would himself be deceived. "If you find our terms unacceptable you are of course free to leave without making any arrangement with us. I am sure that we would find others who might be more willing to accept our arrangements."

Wat hesitated at that. While there were many companies, corporations and factories in the galaxy. The number who could make actual use of the production capacity these people seemed to have was significantly smaller. And not all of them worked for the Confederacy.

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

Arthurius smiled to himself without letting the expression crest his actual expression. The xenos was more than willing to make arrangements. But for now they were preparing for the actual testing phase. "Begin phase one testing." The order went out, and those other representatives that had joined Wat for this round of demonstrations moved to their seats.

The mechanised figure who took centre stadium seemed more tank than man. "Sixty point two seven seven eight metres per second." He began, his voice booming. "This is the average velocity of a blaster bolt in a standard atmosphere. This is adequate in close range engagements between zero and twenty four metres. Beyond this range, volume of fire is required for effective targeting of individuals, or poor reaction times on their behalf. Begin demonstration A."

A man in powered armour stepped up onto the range and there was a degree of silence as another man stepped up to a range with a blaster rifle. Each time one shot was fired, and beyond the twenty four metre mark, only marginal movement was necessary to avoid the single blaster bolt, repeated shots in quick succession being needed to score a hit. "As you can see. Fire becomes unreliable at range, and considerably so for great ranges." The figure said plainly. "Two hundred and ninety nine million, seven hundred and ninety two thousand four hundred and fifty eight metres per second. Can anyone tell me what that is."

Wat, increased the volume of his translator. "The speed of light in a vacuum."

"Correct. This is a Kantrael M36 pattern Lasgun. One of the standard patterns of long arm issued to the Astra Militarum, it fires actual laser bolts, not those things you call laser bolts. Each shot from a Kantrael pattern lasgun travels at the speed of light in whatever medium you are present in. If you are aiming at your enemy when you pull the trigger you will hit your enemy. The weapon was passed to the tech thrall that had been firing the blaster. "Begin demonstration B." The same test wsa repeated, and yet, at no distance was the power armoured man able to avoid the laser fire. "Through the black market, we have been able to obtain several examples of a B1 Battle Droid, and Clone Armour."

A block with the examples on it was raised from the floor. "Begin demonstration C."

The weapon came up and an appreciative audience watched as each of the targets was struck, leaving glowing holes in the material. "Consistent strikes at any range with equally consistent effects on target." Wat Tambor turned to Arthurius.

"I want a million."

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 16;
Adventurism

Ventress used the chance of the demonstrations to get away for a time from the utter boredom of her companions for this voyage and do something she had not been asked to do. Explore. Leaving the quarters they had been assigned to she activated her wrist computer to map her movements and picked a direction. Almost immediately she discovered a more significant issue with her exploration.

There seemed to be an almost omnipresent number of crew outside of the luxury quarters they had been assigned. Enough that she began to wonder if there were in fact crew being assigned to follow them. Was the security pass also a tracking device? Did it really matter? Without her lightsabers she was reduced in what she could have achieved if she had planned to anyway. She moved deeper into the ship and found herself moving though corridors far less grandiose than those with which she was familiar so far. And the looks she was getting were becoming increasingly less friendly. Which brought up a problem that she hadn't expected.

Her elucidator was no longer translating their tongues. The language they were using was not the one that the device had been programmed for. And then she came to a scene that tore her breath away. Stepping through a hatchway onto a large open area, one of the massive cargo holds that was, right now, open up onto one of the Spacedock Piers, she could see her own vessel in the distance attached to another. But this one was not the same. There were a pair of them.



They were guarding a third ship that had docked.



She could read the name Hermes on it, she thought she could see its twin somewhere out there in the dark. But it might have simply been her imagination. What she had not expected was what she saw. Thousands of troops were receiving equipment from the cargo bay. Vehicles were being rolled out into the spur for loading onto the vessel. It was an invasion force of some sort. And so when a soft melodious voice spoke in her ear she almost jumped clear out of her skin, spinning to find a long eared near-human. It's armour didn't match anything that the humans had worn that she had seen, and even its way of speaking seemed slightly unnatural. A hint of a facial expression, wry amusement, flitted across the face as quickly as it had arrived.

"Humans are so very good at what they do when they choose to do it. It's one of the reasons my sister and I entered the employ of Arthurius." The figure said, moving to the railing and looking down over it. "Humans are exceptional at war, exceptional in their capacity to hate and fear that which is different, exceptional at casting off that they decry as the other."

Asajj found herself listening, suppressing her initial annoyance. "You are not near-human?"

The alien laughed. A rich mellifluous sound that reminded Asajj of better days and kinder times. Summer breezes and burbling brooks and... shook her head to clear the sensation. "Not at all Asajj Ventress, for all the surface level similarities we share there are a thousand differences greater than the gulf between stars. I am Aeldari, a Corsair and Ranger."

"So why serve this human if you are so different?" She asked. Leaning on the same rail.

"Because he is different. I am not sure you could understand mere words explanation. You might take me prone for hyperbole and fanciful tales. In the galaxy from which we come the Empire of Man and humanity is almost completely xenophobic to a fault, you might have noticed the disgust some of the clansmen had as you passed them on your way here. How they turned to the ship-cant of the clans who have called this vessel home for thousands of years. You are different. Other. Alien. Xenos." The last word was spat with such vitriol that she imagined she could taste effluvia on the tongue, of rancid meat... "The Von Hydraxius Dynasty was different, a collection, an alliance of idealogues who felt the best way to survive in the universe was not the violent terror of the other most humans have. They believed in learning, studying, coming to terms and agreements with those they could. If the Inquisition had learned about the 'xenophilious' tendencies of the Dynasty, they would have been scoured to bedrock. Hundreds of billions of humans murdered for the crime of one man trying to improve the world."

Asajj sighed. "I can imagine good men being killed for trying to do good. I've seen it."

"No young one. You haven't." Asajj turned, her face almost wrinkled in contempt when two terrifically strong hands clamped around the side of her head. She felt a connection deeper than any she had experienced with the force a connecting of psyches. "I was on the path of the Seer, a Warlock of great power before the path grew too constricting for me. I gift you now with.. perspective."

Asajj fell. Fell into a memory. Millions of men and women fighting against a horde of bestial green monsters that rolled across a world like a tide. She looked down through a scope. More people were dying in the scopes sight than had fallen during the battle of Geonosis. BLINK. The perspective shifted to one from orbit. Of fire spreading across a world. Deployed from ships in orbit. She felt terror and sadness at what was being done. BLINK. His home invaded, humans slaughtering his kind as other humans... BLINK. For all that she thought monsters had been seen before. This time she watched a living, crawling, carpet surging across a continent as more invaded the ship. Close quarters with...

A scream pierced her lips as she fell back from the contact. "Not yet young sister. You need to see more." The Warlock reached forwards and gripped her, and pressed his forehead to hers.

The monsters surged through the ship, and there he was, the Rogue Trader, his weapon piercing the breast of the beast commanding the swarm. BLINK. The vision changed, and this time it showed a man helping people like the one who clutched her head. She watched as they were escorted onto another vessel of their kind. BLINK. A somewhat birdlike species, were pulled from a dying world with the air of Von Hydraxius technicians. BLINK. A deal made with an ancient enemy that secured two peoples from hostilities in a region and condemned a shard of a god to an eternal prison. Scenes of war more horrible than the very worse of undertakings of the Clone Wars filled her mind. Followed by images of the Von Hydraxius dynasty working against the worst ends.

The pain disappeared as the hands did. And instinctively she forced pushed to create some distance between them, but the figure had already moved ten metres away before her senses came back to her. "WHY DID YOU SHOW ME THIS!?"

"Because you are in pain." The alien answered. "And you need to understand. So long as humans are enslaved he will act. He will save others because he views it as the right thing to do, but saving humanity is ingrained into his soul as firmly as his own name. Lord Hydraxius has bought slaves from the Hutts in exchange for various new narcotics. And he has learned from that. Learned where the slavers are. Learned how they work. Learned much from those taken from the thrall of others."

The gaze of the almond shaped eyes pierced her soul. "What am I supposed to learn from this?"

"The Republic has, as far as we can see, proven impotent at enforcing their prohibition on slavery. The CIS has shown little interest in enforcing such laws themselves, and may even be supportive of them. Lord Hydraxius' motive will always be profit, but he won't allow slavery to persist." The alien said cocking his head.

"And if his actions endanger the very slaves he wants to save?" Asajj asked.

"Oh my dear, with what I showed you, you still don't understand fully do you. He is a human, a Rogue Trader of the Imperium of Mankind. There are two ways to save a soul. One one of them is survivable. If someone hopes to shield themselves with hostages, it would do them well to remember to remember the fastest way to a hostage taker, is through their captive."

 

[Kadaeux]

Chapter 17;
Negotiations Part 2

Wat sat with the rest of the CIS representatives in the private dining hall they had as part of the guest quarters, quietly enjoying the abscence of Dooku's assassin watching over their backs. The topics of conversation were widely varied and Wat tried to keep a thread of concentration on them all. Procuring a million of the Lasguns seemed to be almost a matter for trivial trade by the Rogue Trader. All he had wanted in return was a hundred AAT's, six hundred STAP and two hundred Rogue class Starfighters. It was a steal. And he knew it. Regrettably, that was where the favourable trade had seemed to end. Their thirst for the Imperial technology had blinded many of them.

As they discussed cheerfully how they had allegedly gotten the best of the Rogue Trader Wat sank further into consideration and deliberation as to the nature of the trades being made. From Haor Chall Engineering they had secured a dozen C-9979 Landing Craft and Hailfire Droids, in exchange for approximately two hundred thousand tons of various alloys, especially this 'ceramite' that showed promise. Arakyd had walked away empty handed, until they promise mining rights to a number of resource deposits that they owned title over. Wat had yet to discover what they had been so desperate to obtain but he had his suspicions after demonstrations of something called Gunskulls.

The Colicoid Creation Nest had come out poorly also, obtaining several hundred Multilasers in exchange for an equal number of Droideka. The Klegger Corporation meanwhile was being traded almost a hundred thousand tonnes of ceramite alloys for their equipment in exchange for their lava mining technology. Neuro-Saav were being traded their optics technologies in exchange for the Imperium's own Preysight systems, spoor firing sensors and other equipment. And Hoersch-Kessel Drive Incorporated were trading a number of ships, a Lucrehulk class Freighter, a pair of Munificents and a Recusant class in exchange for the drive systems that allowed them to casually accelerate such massive vessels to significant fractions of the speed of light.

There was a pattern. When companies had nothing the Rogue Trader wanted. He traded for resource rights. But the rest of it seemed to have little direct to interest someone. And Wat came to a realisation.

They had nothing to offer anyone of this galaxy. Who all used related technologies.

He began to piece together a list of things that were really of interest to someone new to the galaxy. The AATs, STAP offered repulsorlift technologies with various ratings, The Rogue class starfighters offered smaller scale hyperdrives and compact support systems, the landing craft were probably also about the repulsorlift technology, the Hailfire droids their missile technology, the Droideka offered potent small scale reactors and shielding, Klegger and Neuro-saav were fairly straightforward technology transfers, as for Hoersch-Kessel, once more they would obtain a varied set of hyperdrives and other systems for examination.

None of this was serious trade. He knew that for a fact as they said they would deploy a pair of transport ships to move the product. Even if it did say interesting things about the size of such transports. Were they setting up a threat? or competition?

And they had captured the pirate who had stolen the profit. But nothing was said of the Profit itself... was the bulk of it within this very ships halls? It was then that Ventress returned. Looking pensive and deep in throught. "Mistress Ventress, you grace us with you... never mind." The scathing look of barely restrained rage came to the fore and slammed a targeting laser on his forehead. Then he frowned. She had learned something. "What have you learned."

Her response was the most cryptic thing he had ever heard. "That hostages make poor shields against enemy fire."

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

Gwendolyn stood on a balcony overlooking a private garden when Maudavar entered. Almost seeming to slip through the door as if it were not even there. "Arthurius is in the Librarium Vault." She said, and the eldar man cocked his head.

"I am aware, Amothanil is with him," The ranger replied, "I bring word that might interest you, and especially of interest to Eleanora." That drew her immediate attention.

But it wouldn't do to just allow it whenever it ventured an opinion. "Perhaps, my husband has great faith in you, as always I reserve judgement." The twitch at the corner of the aeldari's mouth could have been contempt, amusement or both.

"The one called Ventress is an assassin. And apprentice 'sith lord', something akin to a psyker, but yet not a psyker." Gwendolyn's eyes went hard as adamantium and she turned for the door when the aeldari continued to speak, "I have touched her mind, and showed her memories of... home." She stopped dead at that, the Ranger's craftworld had been slain, they were not off of their 'path' by choice, though they did tell others they were only she and her husband knew the full truth. They had saved less than two thousand Eldar from the dying craftworld, and they had directly acted against an Inquisitorial kill team to do it.

She turned back and took a seat. "I am listening."

"She was once a slave." The words garnered the reaction Maudavar desired, Gwendolyn's eyes flashed, in both anger... and opportunity. "Rescued from that life, her new master was slain and... there was a period of blood, much detail is obscured... but this is a woman who is deeply deeply ambitious and craves both power and approval of those she attaches herself to. Right now she has latched her lot in with the leader of the Confederacy, Count Dooku."

"She is unaware of your delving?"

"Unknown. I doubt it. She was particularly effected by the purge of the Splinter fleet." Maudavar realised the next question that would be asked, "Whether she is useful is another matter, she is a skilled combatant unless I miss my estimate, but the Jedi themselves are very skilled and have thwarted her on numerous occasions, I would estimate that she is anxious about her place."

"She was a slave..." The words were almost whispered to herself, "that might be the crack in her armour we need. But when best to use it..."

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

The initial trades were of little real interest to Arthurius as he sat in the Librarium Vault, the figure of Xeriox Apocspety filling a corner of the chamber. The massive Fabricator General of Tanakred was studying the data provided to him. "What use can we make of all of this?" Arthurius asked plainly.

"You were right in your preliminary assessments were excellent. The primary goals of securing Repulsorlift and Hyperdrive technologies provided they deliver as promised, we might be able to produce an effective simulacra, these technologies are ubiquitous in this galaxy, so much so civilians have them in mass quantities." The words were translated from Lingua Technis as Xeriox no longer had the facility to actually speak in Gothic without it. "The rest is of interest, and should keep them from realising our main interest is the Hyperdrives." The Fabricator General hesitated. "Have they inquired of the Profit yet?"

Arthurius shook his head. "Strangely no. I would have assumed that recovery of one of their Lucrehulks would be of significant interest to them, having to tell them it was destroyed in battle wouldn't have been any great burden, yet they haven't shown any interest yet."

"And the Republic?"

"Representatives from Loronar, the CEC, Seinar and Kuat will be arriving in six days along with two Senators and the Jedi Masters Plo Koon and Aayla Secura. Whether they have one of these 'Padawans' or more I do not know yet. I assume our Necron ally has proven invaluable in studying the Hyperdrive so far?" Arthurius said taking a deep draught of his amasec.

"Yes, and no." Was the short answer, "It is quite co-operative and has seemed to take your promise that we need to co-operate quite seriously. And so, the reason for the no is that... paradoxically, the Hyperdrive seems to be quite simple. The sciences behind it are really quite complex, but the physical objects are quite simple. Titanium-Chromium alloys are a predominant element in manufacture. But we need more examples to study, including their navigation systems."

"Thank you Fabricator General. Keep up the excellent work."