Chapter Text
It is the 42nd Millennium, and far from the battlefields of distant stars, there is a city. A sprawling gilded hive, surrounded by artificial oceans and stretching far enough into the sky to almost hug the stars. A place where the wealthy and powerful promenade in parks and live by oceans protected from the relentless elements by glass and steel. A place where wine flows in rivers and delicacies from across the Imperium are served for every meal.
This is Aurora Hive, a city priding itself on being the 'Crown Jewel' of a noble house and the center of Ares Astralis. But deep below, in the rusting underbelly, far from the spires and riches of the guild masters and manufactorum owners, the city is a different beast. A beast of metal and prometheum, devouring hopes and dreams and spitting out the hollowed out carcasses of its inhabitants. A place where law is sold and bought in bulk and the only real justice comes from the weapon you carry at your side.
To be a citizen in this grim place is to know privation and fear. It is to eke out a meagre existence, far from the gaze of the mighty and powerful. It is to toil for a war far away in the stars, a war they know nothing about. It is to survive from day to day, knowing that any day can be your last - and no one will care if it is.
Violence is inescapable on the rotten streets and justice is far and in between. But even the darkest recesses of the Imperium can not escape the watchful and cold gaze of the Inquisition and Aurora Hive is in their sights. And as streets run red with blood, even the high and mighty in their spires begin to shuffle uncomfortably on their thrones. For this is the Imperium of Man and there is Only War - no matter how small and different the battlefield.
“OONF!”
This was, by all accounts, not the most dignified noise that Sibley Merriev has made in her life. Not even in the top ten, if she were to rank them all. But her excuse was that she was currently having her innards rearranged by the massive fist of a local thug - and in this situation dignity was not high on the list of priorities.
And really, if dignity were high on said list, she would be having an even worse time than what was going on already. Not only was there the infuriating embarrassment of getting beaten up by a slab of vat-grown muscle and synthetic hormones going by the well-fitting nickname of ‘Dumbo’ - because even the people who were ostensibly Dumbo’s ‘friends’ could not ignore the utter lack of independent thought behind his blood-shot eyes - but there was also the fact that she was being held in place like a sack of grain by a pair of low-life thugs whose names she didn’t even know, while a dolled up frakker in a bowler head was standing a few paces away and watching with a shit-eating grin.
And to add insult to injury, they hadn’t even bothered disarming her, knowing full well that Sibley would not dare draw an iron on Smiler’s men. Even if she shot Dumbo, the two nameless goons and the lacquered - up lackey going by ‘Snaptrap’, the rest of Smiler’s criminal empire would come down on her like the wrath of Terra itself, and in the Lost Seventy that meant certain death. She did not have the money to flee the planet or even move out of their reach, in fact the lack of money was the source of her current predicament - but even if she did have it, where would she go? She had come here to escape her past, and going elsewhere once again to start over was a daunting prospect.
Still, Sibley allowed herself one small concession to her severely wounded pride. Spitting out a pinkish glob of saliva she forced a grin onto her split lips as she looked up at Dumbo. “What’s… cough… the matter, Dumbo? Losing… your touch? You trying to… beat me up or flirt with me? ‘Cause if that’s… flirting, it ain’t working…”
“Hit her again, Dumbo.” Snaptrap ordered and yawned, revealing the rows of artificially sharpened teeth he got his nickname from. Dumbo eagerly obliged and Sibley let out a howl of pain, feeling one of her ribs crack under the impact. That most certainly made her reconsider her approach - at least for now. She let her head slump forward, strands of straw blonde hair covering her face, while she tried to push the pain back as best as she could.
Snaptrap stepped forward, hooking the tip of his walking cane under her chin, and forcing her to look up at him. “Out of quips, finally? Good. See, Sibley, contrary to what you might think, this does not please me. I would much rather be at home, watching ‘Arbitrator Foreboding’ reruns, but here I am, having to endure your blabbering, while the only things coming out of your mouth should be ‘Sorry, Snaptrap, I will have the money by tomorrow’.” With a shrug he stepped back, lowering his cane. “Because this is what it comes down to. Smiler is losing his patience, and he’s gonna make an example out of you. The money. All two grand of it. Tomorrow, Sibley. Otherwise we are going to burn down that 'office' of yours, and if you are lucky we will wait until you are out of there before we do it. Capisce?”
Sibley grit her teeth, suppressing another cough. What was she supposed to say? She owed, she owed big and business was anything but booming. There really was no way that she would make two grand before tomorrow, so she might as well escalate… but on the other hand, if she can buy herself one more day… just one more…
“Can’t… do… tomorrow, Snaptrap… Come on… you know how things are. Give me… at least till the end of the week…” She pressed out.
The ganger sighed and rolled his eyes. “And where have we heard all of that before, hm?”
“Look… if I don’t… have it by then… Frakking shoot me for all I care… but I can’t… pay Smiler back… when I’m frakking homeless, can I?”
“You can always… work it off.” Snaptrap shrugged. “Woman with your talents, you can be useful. Certainly a better shot than any of those morons.” He said, nodding toward the goons. The pair grumbled, but did not dare speak up - Snaptrap was Smiler’s right hand man in this district and Dumbo was loyal to him only, meaning that they had to shut up and take it - but Sibley shook her head.
“No… got… a rep to protect…”
“What rep? Rep of being the local dumb-ass pretending to live in a holodrama? Your rep will do frak all for you when you’re being turned into Soylens Veridiens.” Snaptrap rolled his eyes. “But fine. One week. For old time’s sake. But if you don’t pay, we won’t kill you, that’d be wasteful and wastefulness is heresy, after all. Golden Velvet always needs new dolls, and even if you’re not much of a looker, we got docs to take care of it. Let her go, boys.”
Sibley slumped to her knees as she was suddenly released, cradling her rib and watching as the quartet retreated to a car of a variety very few people down here could afford. “Wanker…” she grumbled to herself as the doors closed and the gangers drew off. Forcing herself to stand, even if she had to support herself against a nearby house wall, she started heading back to her place. She bought herself a week… Now all she had to do was to get lucky…
=][=
On the best of days, having to preside over a conclave was a tense and annoying affair, even when not hunted by Tyranids in maintenance tunnels. This was not the best of days. For the third time in five years I was sitting in a high-backed chair, surrounded by other senior Inquisitors and having to decide on a course of action. And this time around it was complicated by what one might call a ‘conflict of interest’ which made the situation even less pleasant than usual. Oh and then there was the fact that the opposite of the table was occupied by an Archmagos and his numerous retinue of chittering tech-priests. Honestly, the recaf that my interrogator had thoughtfully provided a few minutes ago was a life saver - especially since she even more thoughtfully added a good shot of amasec to it.
[CLARIFICATION] <You seem to misunderstand our intentions, Inquisitors. This conversation = merely a courtesy. Since [Chance of target’s presence] > 0% = [Troop deployment] within 1,21e+15 nanoseconds. Consider yourselves informed.> Archmagos Autocratoris Xephon IX/Theta canted and I reflexively felt the fingers of my bionic hand tighten around my cup, driven by an intense desire to strangle them. Although, looking at the mass of metal and cables protruding from underneath the red hood, chances are there was not so much of a throat underneath there in the first place.
To my right Inquisitor Kuryakin exhaled slowly and I could have sworn I heard his teeth grind against each other. Kuryakin had something of a long standing feud against the Tech priesthood and he immediately went on to prove it.
“And you seem to misunderstand our intentions, Archmagos Autocratoris. The planet that your supposed target is located on is the property of an associate of Lady Inquisitor von Stern. Even more importantly, the Lady Inquisitor has begun an ongoing action on the surface of the planet. One that is extremely important for the safety of the Imperium. We simply can not allow you to land troops there for… what exactly?” He all but growled, staring the Archmagos down.
The Archmagos turned their face, or what passes for it, toward me, red oculars flashing. [REASSURANCE] <Compensation for your associate will be forthcoming for [amount of damage incurred]. Deployment of troops = unavoidable.>
“I don’t think so.” Slowly but surely the stubborn bastard was getting to me as well and I let just enough of a snarl creep into my voice to signal to the other Inquisitors that I am reaching the end of my patience. “For starters, we can not allow you to deploy troops on an Imperial world without you as much as providing a proper reason for such. This smells an awful lot like you trying to forcefully take over and convert it into a forge world while no one is looking. I am well aware that the Mechanicus was bidding on the planet before my associate purchased it, so, if this is a thinly veiled attempt at stealing it… then said attempt will be met with the necessary force. Not to mention that I will contact Mars and pull every single lever imaginable to ensure that the Fabricator General disavows your little warband.”
[ARROGANT DISMISSAL] <Your attempts at threats = ineffectual. Standing with Fabricator General = questionable, due to presence of equally questionable Magos in warband.>
...At least the frakker was honest about being arrogant.
[RELUCTANT ASSURANCE] <Interest in planet confined to one (1) individual. Recovery critical. Strategic value of asset = Absolute. 0 intention for permanent takeover.>
Well, now we were getting somewhere, but unfortunately by then I had lost my patience, and before Vail, who was sitting to my left, could interfere I slammed my fist on the desk. “What. Is. The. Rust-damned ASSET?” I barked and the tech-priests reacted with more mechanical clacking and chittering, some seemingly all but ready to attack.
“Caterina…” Vail cautioned, before turning to the Archmagos. “However inappropriate my colleagues outburst, she does have a point. You are interfering with inquisitorial business here, and for all your autonomy, you are still subjects of the same Imperium we are protecting, Archmagos. Not to mention that our fleet is bigger as of the current moment. However, Lady von Stern is a talented investigator with a lot of experience and an uncanny ability to find unexpected things in unlikely places. Perhaps a compromise can be reached? Say, if you share the nature of the asset, she can look for it, and if she can not find it within a certain time…”
The Archmagos turned to their retinue, probably engaging in a heated noospheric debate, before turning back to me. I had no illusions about the reason for the discussion - screw serving the Imperium, it was the fact that if they were to engage in a shooting exchange we were outnumbering them in this orbit 4 to 1, thanks to not only the presence of my execution fleet but also the ships of a few dozen Inquisitors arriving for a small conclave, Vail’s 'borrowed' Deathwatch and of course Alira’s own ships who were milling about the Mandeville point and just waiting for me to finish up my business. Well.. our business. I was, after all, part owner of that damned place now.
[RELUCTANT COMPROMISE] <Asset is a lost Titan Princeps. As evident, recovery = crucial for the Collegia Titanica. Time limit on recovery T-7.8892E+15 nanoseconds, beginning now. After, deployment of Secutarii = Unavoidable and Inquisition = liable for interference with Collegia Titanica business.> Xephon IX/Theta finally canted, to my immense relief.
“Very well. Those terms are… acceptable.” I grumbled, even if looking for a lost Princeps was the last thing I needed to add to my already overflowing itinerary.
[BRIEF CLARIFICATION] <Further information will be provided via noospheric missive to Magos Udov 10/Ω> And after a brief pause they added.
[RUDE FAREWELL] <Do not disappoint, Inquisitor. Goodbye.>
And with that the metal frakhead turned around and hovered out of the room, followed by their gaggle of followers. I groaned and buried my face in my hands, feeling Vail pat me on the back.
“I am glad this was the last item on our agenda tonight. I would fear for the life of the next petitioner.” Kuryakin calmly said. “This is a fine mess.”
“Not wrong.” I grumbled. “How the frak did they lose a frakking Princeps?”
“I suppose it will be in the missive you Magos is likely getting right now.” Vail reasoned. “More importantly, is that going to interfere with your plans?”
With a sigh I shook my head. “It puts me on a bit of a time table, but it’s doable. In theory. Luckily I have already dispatched people to make the first moves, but… afraid I will have to leave immediately.”
“Then go with the Emperor, sister. We’ll manage here.” Kuryakin nodded.
“Right.” I got up and downed my recaf. “Sorry about having to vanish like this, but…”
“No, no, it’s fine. Luckily I just got back anyway, so it’s not like our Ordo is underrepresented.” Vail giggled, covering her mouth. “Let me know how it goes, yes?”
I must admit, I merely let out some grumbles at that and all but darted outside, rapidly marching down the hallways leading toward the landing pad. Only after turning a few corners did I allow myself to relax, tug my coat into place and pull out a data-slate.
“Sabbatine? Pack everything up and meet me aboard the widow." I ordered, then switched channels. "Firebrand? Warm up the engines, we are leaving immediately. And contact the ‘Fury’, tell Langarius to forward my deepest regrets to Alira and Sepheriel and tell them not to wait. We will rendezvous with them at the location.” Ending the connection I accelerated my steps again. I would have two weeks at most by the time I arrived, which was exactly the time needed to activate Fulcrum, barring deviations. Except now I also had to find a throne-damned Princeps…
=][=
Alira Dylenya was lost in thought, only half-listening to the staccato reports of her bridge crew as the ‘Silent Allegiance’ shot back out into real space, followed by a number of her dynasty ships. As the reports concluded with the final tally - one freighter lost in the Warp, acceptable for such a long jump if not downright stellar - she turned her gaze to the Auspex master.
“Any sign of the 'Fury'?”
"One moment, Lady Captain… yes. Overlord class Battlecruiser, two hours out!”
“Receiving vox hail!” the vox master reported and Alira felt the tension leave her shoulders.
“Put them through.”
The hololith hummed and flickered to life, displaying the floating head of Captain Langarius. “Lady Captain. Glad you arrived safely.” the man opened, inclining his head. “You are two days early, it seems the currents were favouring all of us.”
“I am assuming you arrived even earlier, then?” Alira asked, gesturing at her crew to get the fleet moving.
“Four days ago. I… regret to inform you that the Inquisitor already took the opportunity to deploy to the surface. With minimal retinue.”
Alira felt herself tense again, but nodded. “I see… whom did she take?”
“The Magos, her interrogators and First Squad. Colonel Jariss and Major Rochefort remained behind, as per the initial plans.”
Alira exhaled slowly and nodded again. “Splendid. Please have them join me on the ‘Allegiance’ as soon as possible.”
“Of course. The shuttle will launch as soon as you are in range. On a more positive note, I took the liberty of contacting the planetary governor and informing him of your impending arrival. To ensure you are greeted… appropriately.”
“Much obliged.” Alira smiled and started to rise from her throne. “I will retreat and prepare, for now. See you dirtside.”
Langarius’ image inclined its head again and vanished and Alira turned to the bridge crew. “Have the Colonel and Major head to my quarters immediately upon arrival. And make haste for planetfall, I would like to disembark at sunset, if you will. Makes for a better image.”
And with that she actually did retreat, making her way up the spire to her refuge. A refuge where Canoness Sepheriel was already waiting, leisurely reclining on the massive couch and reading something. Seeing Alira enter she looked over, took one glance at the rogue trader’s expression and hummed.
“Cat already sped ahead?”
“You best believe it…” Alira sighed, making her way over and plopping down next to the white-haired woman, resting her head in Seph’s lap. Who, of course, immediately reached down to gently stroke her hair.
“She’ll be fine, Alira. Lest you forget that that woman survived two odd centuries without us,” the sister calmly commented. “And she is not alone, correct?”
“Uh-huh. Took the Nursery, Magna and the Problem Children. And Firebrand, of course. Still… I don’t know. Feels like she has been getting more distant from us ever since that sordid conclave two years ago. And I feel stupid for even thinking it, much less saying it out loud.”
“It’s inevitable, love. We are dating an Inquisitor, there will always be places where we can not follow her.” Seph gently remarked. “Besides, remember what happened after she came back from that conclave?”
“Mhhhm, I do…” despite her mood Alira found herself to be smiling at the memory of two months spent on a secluded pleasure world, their leisure only occasionally being interrupted by plotting and setting in motion the economical collapse of a noble house. Something that the trader admittedly had enjoyed just as much as their… extracurricular activities. “But I am afraid it won’t happen this time. For all intents and purposes, once she has her hands on Fulcrum we will likely go into yet another mission…”
“Let’s not be too hasty. Maybe Fulcrum will reveal something that gives her pause. And on the flip side, if we do go straight back into it, this will be the end of this hunt. And you best believe, once we have Caddas I will force her to take a vacation. At gunpoint, if need be.”
“I admire your confidence, love, but I doubt Caterina fears getting shot anymore.” Alira grumbled, then sat up, giving Seph a peck on the cheek. “Be as it may, I need to decide on an outfit for meeting my new vassals. Help me with that?”
“Me?” Sepheriel raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t it be better to wait for Val? She at least grew up with nobility…”
“And Val’s and Matilda’s understanding of ‘fancy’ is ‘dress uniform’. Yes, you. You can’t possibly tell me you haven’t picked up on some things over the past five years.” Alira grinned, getting up and making her way over to her dressing room. “Besides, if I find something that has you speechless, then the locals will be completely blown out of the water.”
“I think you overestimate how much it takes for you to make me speechless.” Seph called after her. “You can put on a plain shirt and breeches and you’ll have me howling like a wolf.”
“Flatterer~” Alira purred back, diving into the room and letting her slender fingers brush along the rows upon rows of vestments.
“It’s not flattery when it’s true! I am assuming you'll want me in armour?”
“Of course. Can’t have my partner look anything but her resplendent martial self. Although if you were to ask me what my preferred outfit of yours is…”
There was the sound of footsteps and a shadow blocking out the light from the doorway. Turning her head Alira smirked, seeing the towering woman lean against the doorframe.
“Do go on…” Sepheriel said, and Alira didn’t need the battle sister's remarkable ability to read people to recognize a certain look in her eyes. She turned fully and approached Seph with light steps, reaching up to grab her by the collar and yank her down into a kiss, a kiss that, for her reckoning, lasted far too little despite leaving both of them panting and flushed.
“Nothing~” Alira finally whispered, and not a moment later found herself being scooped up by strong arms.
Maybe Seph was right, they did have the time to wait for the others after all…