We arrived at Bakka station without any issues, and the first thing I did was demand an audience with the Administratum. They needed to be filled in on the changes to Slud, and I would have to defend my choice to create a dynasty without previous approval since I only possessed a letter of marque, not a warrant of trade. Whatever, if I could increase tithes without risking the planet or the population, I had something to bargain with that could potentially make the Administratum 'hasten' the paperwork needed to make it a reality. Then, I would have to do the same with members of the Navis Imperialis. But a few armed freighters would not be missed, so I had no worries on that front.
I arrived at the Administratum quarters on Bakka station, Trokk and half a dozen honor guards in tow. Idris had made herself scarce since the victory on Slud and had left to take care of urgent business the moment we docked, but we would talk at least once more before we departed. Such was my will, and a dispatch had already visited her ship with the official invitation to dinner. Of course, it was just a matter of courtesy, it was more or less a direct order to see me, but I had to keep up appearances and get some practice in the art of being a douche with honeyed words. Being able to call people out or set them up through casual conversation would prove useful when my reputation as a trader militant would make the nobles think of me as a brutish soldier.
Try as I might, it still took generous bribes to get moved to the front of the lines, the pointless and over-complicated bureaucracy of the Imperium ensured there would always be a pool of a few thousand applicants waiting to turn paperwork in or file a formal application for whatever they hoped to gain. When I was finally allowed into an overstuffed office, teeming with workers and drowning in piles of parchment, I was looking down at an old raisin of a man, the wrinkles almost hiding the eyes that stared back at me through thick glasses. "Yes?" The voice was as old and croaking as the man himself, but I had to show a minimum of respect here. If I offended him, he could delay me indefinitely.
"I need to register a change in governor for the planet Slud, as well as the fact that it has been taken under a new Lordship. I have named it the first holding in my dynasty after completing my charge to remove the former corrupt leadership. I also wish to register a positive change in the tithe income from planet Slud, going forward, as the new Lord plans to personally oversee the reformation of the industry on the planet at his own expense." I proclaimed, and my words made the old man pay attention. There was nothing in his posture, but the glint in his eyes told me that he had chosen to ignore everything around him and focus solely on me. He glanced over my companions, my battle-hardened and gruff honor guard, and Trokk, who did his best not to knock anything over while staying as close to me as the limited space permitted and must have concluded that I was the Lord in question. The mention of a dynasty must have tipped him off to my official rank, as he titled me correctly on the first try.
"Lord Captain, this is highly unusual. I sense that you are a man to whom time is precious, as most of your kin do, but this is not the normal way of things. However, if it is as you say so, and the tithe will increase, then I am certain we can... Expedite some of the formalities and have ownership registered in this newly formed dynasty. I shall need to verify your warrant, and if there are any specialty projects you wish to undertake, now would be the time to inform me so they can be registered." He had only taken a moment to collect himself after I delivered my message, and his reply was thought through and precise. His talk of specialty projects made me realize that he was already ahead of me in terms of bureaucratic nonsense, but there was this one idea I had pondered these last few days.
"I want a branch of the Schola Progenium to start operating on the planet. I desire that the Inquisition get special privileges in terms of the branches of education, as well as the selection of students." I answered. This would no doubt get the Inquisition to back off in terms of questioning my forming a dynasty without having the means to hand it off to a successor. But I was playing the long game. I knew of rejuvenating treatments that could extend my life well past 300 years of age before my body would begin falling apart, and in that time, I would have the chance to be granted more freedom and greater privileges as a rogue trader. Not that I planned on staying that long; I still wanted to go back home more than anything, but as long as I was stuck in this universe, I might as well try to improve my situation by any means possible.
My request caught the attention of the old paper pusher, as his focus became entirely on me. "A branch of the Schola Progenium? A rather uncommon request, especially with special privileges granted to the Inquisition, but not one I think they would object to. Emperor knows they come through often enough, taking with them valuable manpower and resources.." The old man trailed off but caught himself before he said anything that could be taken as outright criticism of the established order. "But as the Emperor demands, so we shall deliver. As it should be." He finished off before turning his attention back to the matter at hand.
Two hours later, I left the office, mentally exhausted. I was left with the duty of increasing tithes by 20%, with the said increase going directly to Bakka station instead of going to the wider Imperium, and in return, a dynasty would be established in my name with all the proper documentation and red tape needed to make it a reality. I would also receive a petition to the branch of the Astra Militarum on the Bakka station to replenish my ranks with well-trained guardsmen and voidsmen to make up for the losses incurred on Slud. I also instructed my press-gang officers to go into the lower levels of the station and find recruits, but not by force.
They looked at me like I had lost my mind. Still, when I explained to them that the life they could offer the poor souls in the station's lower levels, as colonists on my ships, would be a far cry better than what they had known, they seemed to understand my reasoning and took off with only enough men and weapons to defend themselves. It took a day time, but droves of people showed up, ready to give honest work for an honest living on board my fleet in the hopes that they could find a better life among the unknown stars. I had more than enough for both setting up a colony and filling my armed freighters and flagship to the brim with workers and soldiers. But I needed every soul I could get, once I left this station, I would be going where few ships went and fewer returned. I needed every advantage I could scrounge up with my greedy little hands.
While that debacle took place, I spent the rest of the first day on station, going to the Mechanicus and working my way through the myriad of increasing ranks to handle the sealed message I had been given by the governor. When I finally got a hold of a Magos, he reverently accepted the message before using his mechadendrites to open and read the letter within. I was instructed to wait before he departed, and after what felt like an hour, he returned, followed by a techpriest with bowed head, carrying a small, elongated crate, which he opened with great reverence.
Inside lay what looked like a typical chainsword, but when I grabbed the hilt to inspect the weapon, I noticed the weight. A full 6 kilograms, if I guessed correctly, which could only mean I was holding a Hecate pattern chainsword. Noted for their weight and size while maintaining excellent balance, it was a fearsome weapon that struck fear into anyone opposing a combatant wielding it. Entire mutinies had been quashed by people brandishing these weapons, and now I was holding one of my own. I could swat regular melee attacks to the side with the weight behind this weapon, leaving them open for a follow-up swing across their midsection, a particularly gruesome way to go. Shit, I could probably deflect Astartes' attacks with this weapon. Of course, I would still die to the superhumans, but being able to redirect the power of such an attack was a very useful thing indeed.
I made sure to shower the magos in praises over this magnificent tool of death that had been bestowed upon me, despite it being a gift from the new governor, Jaurvind, and the magos accepted the praise with all the indifference one could expect from a person that was more machinery than human, insisting on directing my gratitude towards the Omnissiah. It was a magnificent gift, a chainsword pattern that was not exactly common, with enough heft behind it that there was a visible difference between it and a normal chainsword. A full swing from any other pattern could be blocked. From this one, however, you would have to parry and deflect since the weight could help crush through a block. I also suspected that the internal engine driving the chain was more robust and powerful, giving it a deeper and more aggressive growl when revved. For the the first time in a long time, I felt like a kid with a new toy, and I couldn't wait to try it out, either in training or combat, I didn't care. I wanted to test it out, but I had to restrain myself while at Bakka station.
But as I left the Mechanicus holdings with my new chainsword strapped to my hip, I felt the eyes of the troops I passed glance over it with either fear or envy, depending on the trooper in question. With proud steps, I headed toward the Imperial Fist's section on the Station, but I stopped myself before I got too far. I had been tasked with overseeing the planet Slud as the governor until THEY could find a replacement. And I had just laid claim to it instead, installing my own governor. Facing down an Imperial fist captain and telling him I had not only NOT fulfilled the task given to me but had changed the parameters and the outcome was not the wisest of all choices. Instead, I went back to my shuttle and sent an envoy to find Hann. I had a few parting words for him before I left the station to start doing the actual job I was expected to do. Expand the Imperiums influence, bring the Emperor's light to the uninformed, increase the material wealth of the Imperium to fuel its wars, and function as the de facto Lord for the planets that were added to my tiny dynasty. And a small 'favor' to ask of him.
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I received a summons a few hours later and met up with him in a small office equipped only with a desk and a couple of file cabinets.
"Greetings, Lord Captain. A pleasure to meet you under more favorable terms." Hann said as I entered, and he gestured to a chair that was placed in front of the desk. It was not the hard wooden kind, but a plasteel chair with what looked like synthetic padding on top of it. I took a seat and laid out my hands on the table.
"I shall make it short, Inquisitor Hann, as I know you are a busy individual. I wanted to thank you for your assistance back on Slud, if not for your timely intervention, I would have been crisp by now. I shall not forget this soon. But my reason for wishing to see you is two-fold. As you most likely already know, I wish to open a branch of the Schola Progenium on Slud. I wish this because I have laid down the first roots of the tree that shall become my blossoming dynasty on that planet. And I wish for you to secure me a magistrate from the Adeptus Arbites to reside there as an on-planet leader of an academy which shall also be founded there. Naturally, given the nature of the Schola Progenium, the Ecclesiarchy will have their drill abbots there to guide the orphans, which will, of course, grant them a fair bit of political power on the planet. And I see no fault or issue with granting the Ecclesiarchy such a boon, as they work to instill the love of the god-Emperor in anyone they meet.
But I also share the Inquisitions viewpoint of everything being weighed and met with a measured response. We must guard ourselves against heresy both from the outside and, most certainly, from the inside. Hence, if the Inquisition finds me a fitting individual, I am assured that said individual will look after the Inquisition's interests, whatever they might be. Thus, a balance is kept that keeps the people of planet Slud safer, ignorant, and hard-working, benefiting the greater Imperium. Will you agree to help me?"
I worded my proposal with great care, from my mention of guarding against heresy within to my ending, where I asked for help instead of an agreement to a proposal. I was offering to be in his debt for being allowed to help his organization. But I wanted that; I wanted him to not only be at ease around me but to completely dismiss me as a potential candidate for turning traitor. I wanted the thought to be so foreign, so completely alien to him, that it would conflict with his most basic of world-views. Only then would I be about as free as one could get in this damnable universe, free enough to start digging for answers to the only question I cared about answering? How do I get back home?
Hann leaned back in his chair and pondered my words. I knew what he was doing; he was looking for pitfalls or traps in my statement, any small thing that could be used as leverage to further my position that he had not seen, but found none because, after a moment, he leaned back forward and reached out a hand toward me.
"The Inquisiton gladly accepts this offer and will immediately find such an individual for you, Lord Captain. One thing vexes me, however. What do you stand to gain from all of this? Your kind is not exactly known for their generosity, and allow me to be quite candid: an agent of ours on your planet, in such a position of power, would greatly diminish your free reign as its ruler. So you will have to forgive my indulgence when pressing this matter." He raised a fair point and one I knew was coming.
"I need no other reason than the betterment of the Imperium. Remember, Inquisitor, my job is not to rule planets and grow fat and lazy in the process. My job is expanding the Imperium, colonizing new planets for their resources, or reclaiming lost worlds. What the Imperium does with them is of less importance to me as long as they stay Imperial. Should they start.. shifting their perspective, so to speak, towards non-compliance with accepted doctrine, I will happily set my own voidsmen against them in an extremely violent campaign of subjugation so they may see the errors of their ways." I was staring Hann down as I responded to his question, and he seemed to become ever so slightly uncomfortable in his seat as I spoke.
"In any case, make sure you find a particularly faithful subject to fill the role I requested, I would hate to have to cut my travels short because of a handpicked man getting dreams of grandeur or the ecclesiarchy filling my ears with mindless complaints about your agents perceived piety." I waved a hand dismissively to take the edge off of my words, but the undertone of the conversation could not be mistaken. I had, in no uncertain terms, told him that Slud was now firmly under my control, and any attempts to subvert this fact would see me respond quickly and violently to get the planet back under my total control. But we had reached an accord, and I shook his hand in acceptance of this little deal. If nothing else, it would get the Inquisition to back off, given the major act of submission and willingness to cooperate I had subjugated myself to.
With nothing else to do, I toured the bar's common areas available to passing traders. Rumors, news, general knowledge of the sector as a whole, everything was of interest to me, and I sought all the knowledge I could. It didn't start well, not until the patrons understood that I only sought to discover possible adventures and knowledge and not to oust them to the arbites for any words not strictly related to their business they started talking. Most of all, they had complaints, but all merchants had complaints. I did, however, hear rumors of what lay ahead of me, or at least a few choices. If I went further south on the Imperial map, rumor had it that death worlds and perpetual war waited in the star systems ahead. War was costly in manpower but had the potential to bring about great profit and reputation if approached correctly.
Others talked about an Astartes fleet being seen to the southeast near a host of unclassified worlds that were avoided by instinct since they lay quite a way from the regular trading lanes. A lot of potential opportunity in that region, provided I don't have to interact too much with the Astartes fleet.
If I went southwest, the rumors spoke of dead worlds and Imperial Navy fleets operating in the vicinity and trying to root out a rumored pirate fleet using the area as a staging point. Dead worlds potentially had ruins of ancient civilizations, which could hold anything from advanced archeotech to primitive temples raised in the worship of whatever star their planet orbited. I would have to make my choice carefully.
As I walked back to the shuttle that would take me to my flagship, I failed to notice the stomping approaching me rapidly while I walked, lost in thought.
"Lord Captain, you are being summoned." A deep voice rumbled from a barrel chest. I knew it was an Astartes before I turned my head, and sure enough, I was looking at an Imperial fist in full power armor, his helmet being carried by his hip as he did not need to don it while the station was secure. It was strange to think that his facial features were more or less the same as his primarch genefather, and his voice left no doubt that this was not an invitation or a request. This was a demand.
"Ave Imperator, son of Dorn. I cannot comply with this summons as my duties are calling me, and I am already running late on account of the last mission that was given to me by the Imperial fists. So you will have to forgive me, but I am not available for a summons at this point." I replied slowly as I took in the sheer size of the Asartes in front of me. Even with me being taller than the average Imperial citizen, he dwarfed me both in height and bulk.
"You have been summoned!" He repeated in his rumbling voice, and there was something about the tone he used that told me it would be a very bad idea to refuse. But refuse, I would.
"I hear and understand, but as I stated, my duties to the Emperor are calling. If this is about the last task you gave me, I can report that internal heresy has been rooted out, a mutant threat has been exterminated, and a new governor has already been chosen and sworn into office. I have claimed the planet under my dynasty and agreed to a generous increase in tithe in return. You should be thanking me, space marine, as I have freed your chapter from the burden of having to manage a colony and left you with more time to bring death to the enemies of mankind. If your superiors are so keen to speak with me, the ship will not leave orbit around this station for another day. But I must prepare the ship for leave immediately. The Emperor's will cannot wait, and I would not wish to be seen as someone shirking the holy duty. A prosperous day to you, honored Astartes." While I spoke, I could see the disbelief on his forehead. The Astartes were not used to being denied, but this time, he would have to suffer the indignity. But I had given him a report to take back to his chapter master, and if they wanted anything more out of me, they knew where to find me. I turned on my heel and continued walking toward the shuttle, away from the space marine.
I could feel his stare burning into my back as I walked off, but I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me turn around in either curiosity or fear. I reached the shuttle without further incident and spent the short trip in silent contemplation. A choice would have to be made, and I needed to make it before I reached the bridge. Farsyn needed to know which direction he had to scrye a safe path through.
What direction do the MC point the ship in his new travels?
