I was laying in my cot, having an inner debate about my choices, but the rogue trader position was going to be the focal point of my efforts. It would grant me the power to take care of that annoying snitch of a doctor in the underhive without any issues, and more importantly, it would secure me the freedom I was starting to crave. Life had been interesting and new when I first arrived, but every day brought with it the fact that my life as a trooper was meaningless and shortlived, and every battle I survived was a bit of my Luck being shaved away. I was becoming disillusioned and I could feel the effects of it. Being free to move about, more or less as I pleased, sounded like the right path for me.

I had to come to terms with my way of thinking not aligning with the common Imperial citizen and it WOULD get me killed sooner rather than later. Having a Warrant of trade, or even just a Letter of Marque*. I did not need to create a Dynasty as the other rogue traders did.

I was deep in thought and musing but I still noticed the footsteps approaching my door. Several people, judging from the multitude of steps, and the door was opened moments later. I was staring at the same old grizzled commissar, Elris, and my regiment commander. I jumped up and made the Aquila, waiting for the order from my regiment commander to relax. It only took them a minute to make me understand why they had come. I was temporarily promoted to lieutenant and given command of two, 20-man squads of guardsmen each with an attached sergeant. The reason? They wanted to test my leadership abilities and decided the best way to do it was to give me an insufficient force of soldiers and orders to take control of the next section in our path. The small industrial area would be key to securing the ground level of the hive, completely cutting it off from the rest of the planet, and thus ensuring the containment of the rebellious elements.

The area in and of itself was not that large, but it was the home ground for one of the more troublesome gangs of the city, "The Underhive Runners" unofficially employed by one of the more powerful **Highborn houses, and officially one massive pain in the side of the Imperium. Well equipped, well trained, absolutely fucking mental when it came to desecrating the dead, the only reason they had not been branded heretics was their use of said desecrated dead to make imperial symbols. No more than a death cult that saw themselves as the heralds of the Emperor's divine will, delivered by having your inner being revealed to his eyes. At least that was the best explanation that had been given by captured gang members.

When I pressed for information on The Underhive Runners, I was informed they totaled close to 200 members at any given time, in the area I was supposed to take, though they would be partying resting, and getting drugged out of their minds, with it being their hideout and all. When asked if I had any questions, I said "Only one. will I have operational freedom in securing my objective?"

"What are you asking, trooper?" My regiment commander snapped and I hastened to answer, "I am asking if I will be given the freedom and control to direct the troops as I see fit, during the assault, sir!"

The three of them shared a long look before the commissar turned to me with a suspicious glint in his eye, "Do you see any fault in the Imperial doctrine, trooper?" He asked me, his voice carefully neutral. I was stepping on extremely volatile ground right now. "No, commissar! But Imperial doctrine always accounts for superior or equal numbers during an engagement. When outnumbered, even if it's merely 5 to 1 against an inferior enemy, there may be the need for... adaptation, on the battlefield, to secure victory in the name of the Emperor!"

"Unorthodox, but let's see if it can yield results," Elris said, all of the warmth I had come to know in her voice, gone. She spoke like a true agent of the Inquisition. Cold fervor, analytical, judging. Her word, however, seemed to be law among these 3 although that should not surprise me. Even my regiment commander could do little other than bow and scrape if she truly chose to allow it.

And so it came to be that I was swiftly marched over to get a change of uniform and marched out in front of the 20 soldiers that were to accompany me. I was far from impressed and from the smirk on the Commissar's face, he had a hand in this. The sergeants looked capable enough, doing their best to make the glorified suicide squad look presentable.

They utterly failed. Sagging, small-talking, smoking and doing their very best to look like anything other than a soldier. I sighed deeply as we walked up to them. The 2 sergeants immediately stood at attention and made the Aquila, as did all the soldiers except one. Before I had time to register what was happening, the Commissar jumped forward and grabbed the offending trooper around the neck, and started shouting, "FAILURE TO SALUTE AN OFFICER OR ANYONE OF HIGHER RANK CARRIES THE SENTENCE OF FLOGGING!! 50 LASHES!" He turned to the nearest sergeant and barked "Sergeant, carry out the punishment!" before violently shoving the offending soldier to the ground

The man was quickly stripped of his shirt and tied up with his hands above his head. The sergeant had requisitioned a whip at the nearest quartermaster and took up position behind the man before he began the punishment. By the 5th lash, he started screaming from the long snaking wounds the whip created. By the 15th he didn't have the strength to scream, but his face still contorted whenever he was struck. by the 35th lash he started weeping silently, the tears rolling down his face as the blood ran rivers down his back. He finally passed out by the 40th lash but the last 10 were still administered.

As his unconscious body hit the ground the Commissar ordered him taken to the nearest medicae. Such a punishment would not relieve him of his duty, but it would take him off the mission and after leaving for less than 2 minutes, the Commissar came back, dragging a scared and confused trooper behind him. He was quickly shoved into the group of soldiers that had lost a member and a short briefing ensued by the regiment commander. The troopers looked less than pleased but being a deathworlder, I was built taller and stronger than most of them, except one of the sergeants, thus giving them at least some comfort in my abilities to fight and survive. Better than an armchair officer anyway.

And so, I was suddenly left in charge of these 22 men. Taking a moment to go over the situation, I pulled out a map I had been given of the area we were supposed to take. Industrial, mostly the melting down of scrap metal and pouring of metal into bars. Hot, dangerous, a plethora of places for enemies to hide and take advantage of the shadows, and a fortified position in the back of the area, up against one of the enormous pillars that made up part of the hive base structure.

Not much to work with, but I noticed that their territory was bordering another hive gang, "The Iron Nails". perhaps I knew I could use it to my advantage, but I had yet to figure out how. But it was not all bad. As numerous as the hive gangers were, they were drugged-up psychos with little to no formal training. I had trained soldiers under my command. Sure, they were scruffy and looked to lack discipline, but I had a gut feeling that when shit got real, their training would kick in and their natural defiance would see them through to the other side. As much as Guardsman did.

I would be lucky if I got away with more than half of them still alive. My sergeants would most likely be the saving grace. Seasoned, competent, and secure in their abilities, they would assuredly push the troopers to the best of their abilities, in the name of survival. With a silent sigh of worry, I gave the order to move out and started leading the men to the area that served as a border between the two gangs.

It took almost an hour of navigating around the hive city to arrive near the correct area, and it dawned on me once more just how much larger everything was in this universe, compared to back home. It also illustrated how much ground we had taken so far, which would only increase exponentially until we needed to start taking the levels above ground. They would be repetitions of our initial assault. Punch a hole in the defenses, establish a bridgehead, and start expanding until the level is under our control. And the higher we go, the more difficult our battle will become, because the higher levels are reserved for the wealthier, granting them access to war gear and armor that easily surpasses the quality of the Imperial Guard. But the fate of the hive was sealed the moment we gained a solid foothold inside. From that point forward, all the enemy had to fight for was the number of casualties they could inflict upon us.

We finally arrived and took a lift a short way down to reach the construction area that stretched out for miles around. The sound of random skirmishes between gang members flared up and died down in the distance, the roaring of the ovens melting down the endless amounts of scrap, the clanking of the conveyer systems, it all melted together to form a disorienting and overwhelming environment. Add to the mix the orange glow from the melted metals, the yellowish light from the few and random glow-globes*** that were scattered around the area, and the many dark areas created by the various light sources, and we were walking into a possible death trap. But I had a plan. Or, I had an idea for a plan, but since I was in charge, I had a plan! I found a solid place to hunker down, easy to defend and hard to attack, and helped drag some smaller pieces of equipment over to construct some makeshift barricades. When we were ready, I gave each sergeant 3 troopers and tasked them with taking potshots at the different gangs, doing their best to make it seem like the rivals were committing to an attack. I wanted to instigate an all-out war between the 2 factions and wait in our dark corner while they fought it out. Once the smoke settled, we could move in and finish off the Underhive Runners while they were bleeding and drained of manpower. All I had to do, was be extremely lucky and trust my men to do their part.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

We watched as the sergeants took their charges and skulked off in different directions, taking careful note of the area so they knew where to retreat once their mission was accomplished. It didn't take more than 10 minutes before we heard very aggressive lasgun fire, followed by a mix of las and stubber fire. The sound of battle would disappear for a few seconds before resuming once more, each time getting closer to the middle of the border area. After almost 2 minutes of this, 6 figures came rushing toward our position and a few of the guardsmen raised their rifles before they recognized the sergeants and 4 of the 6 troopers that had been with them. Random stubber fire flew past them and impacted near our barricades, sending the troopers, who were more or less settled down for a long wait, into a frenzy of return fire that helped the sergeants and troopers reach the safety of the makeshift barriers before they were gunned down by the pursuing gang members. As the scattered pursuers got closer, their fire started shifting from us to each other and I realized they were from the different factions, so the best we could do was hunker down and let them fight it out. Sure, it was not what was expected of me, but what did I care? My life mattered more to me than Imperial battle doctrine, and I had the advantage of surface-level knowledge about a great many things from back home.

There was another benefit to my way of directing this fight. The troopers, that had wrongfully assumed I would charge in and fight the enemy head-on, had warmed up quite a bit when I was near and some of them even greeted me with some semblance of happiness. As we listened, the sounds of battle intensified, large explosions and screams of the dying and wounded filling our ears. It was weighing on me. The others might have grown up with this life, but I had not. I came from a universe of relative peace. Sure, crime and war were still a thing back home, but not to this degree. My world would be a literal paradise to all but the most powerful people in the entirety of the Imperium. Being able to go to sleep without screams of agony in the distance was considered a good life, here. I shook myself out of my thought as we settled down to wait for the gangs to fight it out.

4 more times, we had to instigate battle between the 2 factions, and 4 times the dying sounds of battle, resumed with a vengeance. I lost another 3 troopers, leaving me with the 2 sergeants and 15 troopers, but it was well within acceptable losses for a mission such as this. the 5th time I sent troops out to instigate, they quickly came back to report that the area was more or less safe to enter, and we moved out. Moving quickly, sticking low to the ground and rushing from cover to cover, I directed the troops forward toward the Underhive Runners' territory. We rounded a large piece of machinery and I had to take a moment to regain myself before I could continue.

I was staring at a hellscape. Burning, twisted, broken, and torn apart, the bodies were spread out across the area in numbers I had a hard time comprehending. From the look of things, I would say that almost a thousand or more people lay dead in an area the size of 4 football fields, dotted with heavy machinery. We would have to wade through the dead and still dying to get to where we wanted to go. I suppressed a shiver and quickly started moving again. The number of dead bodies did not diminish as we got closer to the headquarters of the Underhive Runners and I started to worry that maybe The Iron Nails had managed to win this miniature war I had instigated and I would be facing them instead. I had no intel on them beyond their name so they presented an unknown danger.

My fears proved to be unfounded, as the look of the dead started changing from one gang to another, and when we arrived, all we saw was a few stragglers, hobbling around the various rooms that were used as living spaces and community gatherings. I counted no more than some odd 30 shapes moving around and I guessed there was no more than double that inside. Add to that they were wounded and tired and this should be fairly straightforward. One of my troops raised their rifle, but his sergeant quickly pushed it back down with a shake of his head, allowing us to move forward in silence. The closer we got, the greater the element of surprise.

We were no more than 20 meters away when we got spotted. One of the wounded glanced out toward the border area and saw the 17 of us moving quickly toward their position. He barely managed to cry out before the beam of a lasgun punched a hole where his face used to be and we went loud. "ATTACK MEN! KILL THE BASTARDS!" I shouted and started firing indiscriminately at the open doorways while advancing. As soon as we got within range, the sergeants primed a frag grenade each that was tossed into the rooms where sporadic return fire had opened up. This inspired the rest of us to do the same with the other rooms and after the rocking explosions, we started cleaning up. going from room to room, half of our group stayed outside either with me or the 2 sergeants as we alternated the overwatch duty. Sad to say, I didn't get many kills, but what could you do? I was appointed to orchestrate, not eliminate. My job was the big picture, the troopers were there to see to the actual work, but I did manage to sneak in a few quick shots along the way.

There was no trouble for most of the process except for the end where a last-ditch ambush cost me 2 more troopers and a glancing shot that bounced off of my pauldron before our massed fire managed to finish off the wounded remains of a gang that had controlled a significant area, not in size, but in value. With this foundry area, the attacking Imperial army could resupply gear and munitions locally instead of relying on supplies captured or transported in from off-planet. This was massive, and most likely the reason it had been chosen as a special assignment. Had I failed, they would have just rolled a few thousand guardsmen over the area, but if it could be avoided by testing a potential rogue trader, that would of course be the preferable option. especially considering the Inquisition stood to gain absolute control over said, rogue trader. In any case, it would still be a significant upgrade to be chosen for the position.

We might have done what we were tasked to do, but I didn't trust anything until I had been cleared of duty, so I chose one of the sergeants to huff it back and report mission success, the other sergeant to take 10 troopers and patrol the captured area and finish off any survivors or intruders, while I hunkered down with the remaining 3 troopers who quickly got a small fire and a pot of mystery stew up and running, made from ingredients scavenged around the area. While we waited, I sat down on the ground and leaned against one of the massive foundry machines, letting the heat emanating from it warm me up as I decided to check out my status. I scrolled past the usual notifications but my eye caught the last two.

Imperial faction quest complete. Reward: 2000 XP

Achievement unlocked: Outgunned and underpowered. Time to think!

"you outwitted your enemies and forced a victory through deception and guile. Congratulations, you backstabbing snake. Reward: +1 Will, +1 Luck.

Wait, when did this system start commenting on my actions? I shook off the thought and continued to my status screen,

HUMAN. LEVEL 5.

STAT POINTS REMAINING: 0

ALIGNMENT: FAITHFUL IMPERIAL+.

LITANIES: 27

AUGMENTATIONS: Cybernetic lung(upgrade lvl1, Toxins/environment)

LEVEL:7649/9600

STRENGTH: 11

AGILITY: 9

PERCEPTION: 10

WILL: 14

LUCK: 31

PSYCHE: 1/500

SKILLS

FEATS

ABILITIES

I liked what I was seeing. The random quest I had completed put me close to level 6, But Faction quests? That was both new and it made me wonder. Would it be possible to do quests for other factions if I got the coveted position as a rogue trader? How would that even work? Would I be able to get away with it? It didn't matter for the moment, and I settled down, waiting for the Commissar to arrive. It took a little while, but He arrived with Elris and a retinue of close to 100 guardsmen. Scanning the area and occasionally firing his bolt gun into corpses at random as he made his way to me "Report" He demanded, gruff and direct.

"Mission successful. We instigated a small gang war and used to damage caused, to mop up the remains and take the area. The neighboring gang, The iron Nails, were beaten back and should present a very weak opponent right now." I reported, and the commissar Turned to exchange a look with a captain who immediately ordered the retinue to move out. I could swear the commissar looked pleased underneath that permanent scowl of his, as insane as the very idea sounded.

"When you said you planned unorthodox tactics, this is not what I expected." Elris remarked as she took in the area, "But I cannot argue with the results. You even managed to weaken the strength of another gang to the point where we can get rid of them immediately. This will certainly count in your favor." She was still as ice-cold and distant as ever, but I understood why. This was business. Pleasure had its time, and she had a reputation, considering her station. "Go rest and relax. You have earned it. You will be summoned again in 1 day." The commissar said, effectively ending the conversation, so I and the surviving members of our group gathered our things, aside from the troopers there were now chowing down on the mystery stew and made our way back to the safety of our territory. Soon enough I had made it back to my room and could throw myself on my cot. I was almost asleep when there was a knock on the door to the room and I opened the door to see a trooper I had not seen before, carrying a small satchel. "I was ordered to bring this to you," He said before shoving the satchel in my arms and making off again. I closed the door again and sat down on the cot while looking over the satchel. What was all this about?