The discovery of the foul pendant made me search the area almost frantically, looking for any more signs of Skaven. And I found them. Small markings etched in the wall, no doubt runes from their written language. The Skaven had a large and complex written language, even more so than any other race. A rune or symbol for every word, concept, idea, thought, and thing. This meant that most Skaven did not know all of them beyond a basic idea of the concept, but they knew enough to understand whatever basic idea was being conveyed. I found several small markings I did not know the meaning of, but I also found runes indicating both the Grey Seers and Clan Skryre, the mad rat engineers that used warp stone to make unholy weapons of incredible destructive power. The symbols etched in the walls had no doubt been placed by Clan Eshin, the assassins, and spies amongst the rats. That only left evidence of Clan Moulder, the surgeons and flesh crafters, makers of rat-ogres and beasts alike and by far the wealthiest clan of them all. But they would be here as well, even if I couldn't find any sign of them.
If the overgrown rats were bold enough to mark territory under direct and immediate Imperial control, then they were most likely under the influence of the Musk of Battle, a curious thing that happened whenever a Skaven burrow reached its upper limit in regards to population density and availability of food, meaning they would be looking to expand, through the conquest of needed. The only thing that bothered me was, we were on a space station several hundred kilometers above the planet. How on earth did they gain entrance here, to begin with? Could they have snuck aboard the cargo haulers bringing ore from the planet?? It seemed the most likely. The only other way they could have gotten on board was if they had help. Which was a whole can of trouble I did not even want to consider unless I could rule out everything else. In any case, I could sound the general alarm, send troopers out to comb the station with a fine tooth comb, and they would most likely find nothing.
Or. I could go get Trokk and his Ogryns, pick up a squad or two of voidsmen, they had better experience moving and fighting inside the ship, and go hunting myself. bringing back a corpse to display to anyone thinking I had lost my marbles would be a godsend, especially when it came time to convince the Mechanicus that they did not have full control of the areas of their charge. I know, it is not the safe thing to do, but I wanted more than boredom and endless lists. I was a rogue trader, and I think it was about time I took on the mantle of a Trader Militant. Satisfied with this plan of action, I turned to walk away, but a sudden whim made me stop.
I wondered...
I turned on my witch-sight and was assaulted by a projection of bright lights. As many runes and pictograms as I had found etched in the walls in inconspicuous places, they were nothing compared to the light show that sprang up in front of me. Walls of text written in the Skaven language, every single rune brimming with the power of the warp. It seemed as if the text was drawing in warp power in minute amounts, gathering it up like a flux. Disturbing the writing could have catastrophic results, anything from a fizzle of energy, to the station being ripped apart, could happen. So of course that's what I did, betting on my luck stat to keep me safe. I ran my knife diagonally across one of the walls of text, disturbing the finely carved runes and intricate symbols, and was immediately thrown violently against the opposite wall as a blast of psychic energy was unleashed in an instant, a gale of wind rushing through the corridors. Dazed and confused, I lay there rethinking several life choices recently made, when I heard stomping feet approaching fast. It turned out to be several guardsmen investigating the strange phenomenon and they quickly gathered around to make sure I was okay.
"Get Farsyn. Now!" I ordered as I slowly got up. I was not well versed in being a psyker or the powers that followed with it, and I needed someone much more experienced to help with this. Summoning my Navigator Primaris was a bit of a gamble since there was a chance he would catch on to me being an unsanctioned psyker, but since he was from a Shrouded House bloodline, there was also a good chance he might just ignore it, in favor for continuing working for me, which could be a path to redemption for his fallen family. In any case, I had turned off my witch sight the moment I gained control of myself after being flung through the air. I had hit the wall hard, but not hard enough to do any real damage. Bruised and with a hurting ego, I rose to my feet as the guardsmen fussed around me. They may find me strange and my way of thinking weird, but they also knew that I treated the common soldier with a least a grain of respect, which is more than they got from 99% of any other higher-ranking personel they will ever meet.
I sat down on the floor, crossed my legs, and began to wait while I observed my surroundings. The guardsmen, not knowing what to do, assumed positions up and down the corridor, standing watch and looking out for any potential danger. If nothing else, they were dutiful. It took almost an hour, but Farsyn finally came hurrying down the corridor with a slew of astropaths and guards in tow. It pleased me that he took care to ensure he and his subordinates were safe when venturing the station or my ship, the astropathic choir being my only link back to the Imperium once I left the relative safety of Imperial space. He didn't even make it down to me before he slowed down, staring in awe and fear at the hidden texts on the walls
"What- What is all of this?" He said slowly as he gestured around him.
"All of what?" I asked aggressively. "I was thrown against the wall by... Something! All because I dragged my knife along a wall!" I was playing dumb and the skepticism on Farsyn's face did not escape my attention, but he had more important things to deal with than my vague explanations.
"Captain, my astropaths and I will need to work uninterrupted for quite a while. Can you instruct your guardsmen to keep anyone from interrupting us while we work?" Farsyn knew better than to press the matter with me, when we were not alone, and thus put all of his in the back of his mind to deal with the current issue at hand.
"Done. Seek me out once you are done. We have things to talk about, Navigator." I answered as I gestured to the guardsmen already in position around the area to stay and stand guard. Another gesture brought the Corporal closer, ready to receive instructions.
"Increase patrols all over the station, increase the size of patrolling units, and," I pointed out the small charm embedded in the wall, "Wherever you find these, or anything like it, I want soldiers on permanent watch. Instruct them to pack an extra ammo bag for their shot cannons, and a fully charged pack for their las pistol. If anyone is found sleeping or slacking off in that specific guard duty, summary execution will be the punishment. And do not touch them!" I spat at him at the hast with which he presented the Aquila and hurried off to make my orders a reality was enough proof that I had scared him sufficiently to understand the gravity of the situation.
A trooper came up to me, holding the knife that had been flung away from me when I was thrown against the wall, and I took it with a nod. Before departing, I bent down and pried the Skaven pendant free from the wall, wrapping it in the cloth of my jacket as I picked it up. There was no telling what the fiendish ratkin had done to these things.
After that whole ordeal, I retreated to my room, placing the pendant on a small shelf in a glass cabinet left by its previous owner, taking care to lock the cabinet back up. For a moment I thought about trapping the cabinet, but decided against it, choosing instead to trap one of my hairs between the cabinet and the glass door. If anyone opened it when I wasn't here, the hair would fall to the ground, betraying any sneak thief in the process. With all that done, I sat down and started penning a letter that would be copied to the various city mayors below and distributed at the first chance. Precautions were needed to fight the Skaven effectively. First, they needed to triple the guards around granaries and food stores, as well as any industry quarters in the city that worked with metal, the ratkin's greed for the metal was as insatiable as their hunger. They needed to increase the number of local city guards, improve and repair their sewer access grates, making them lockable and putting orders in place to lock them down each night, and in case of any grate being picked open, an ambush of guards should be placed for the following nights. I didn't bother explaining the last bit, I just added several phrases making it clear the horrors I would inflict upon any mayor stupid enough to go against my will.
To take the edge off of my harsh orders, I also added an order to keep a detailed list of extra expenditures associated with these orders with a promise that the extra expense would be covered by their planetary governor, as a sign of understanding that they, and by extension I, still had tithe quotas to meet.
With all that done, I poured myself a glass of amasec and enjoyed the rich aroma rising from the glass. I had only taken the first sip when a communicae sounded from the vox in the wall.
"Captain, Imperial trade ships are approaching the station. They are hailing the old governor with words of familiar greeting." My young first officer's voice rang out, and I felt a slow headache building behind my forehead.
"Summon them the moment they make landing. I might have use for an Imperial merchant. Do not inform them of the change in governor." I said in a neutral voice. I did not need the distraction of a bootlicker trying to score a sweet trade deal, least of all one that already had a fleet of ships behind him. I was technically quite poor for a rogue trader, at least for the moment, but what I lacked in material wealth, I had gained in a small reputation among the people with real power. And it was time to cement more of a reputation. I liked the thought of the trader militant label, which would serve as an excellent way to enforce that reputation.
I made ready to receive the guests, making my way to the closest thing to a throne room on the station where the old governor would receive important guests. It was a gaudy place, covered to the brim in expensive silks, gold inlay in the flooring, statues of the former governor, crystal decanter, and glass sets strategically placed so a servant would never have to walk far to get one for a guest, mosaics made from gemstones and precious metals. The entire room was as tasteless as it was extravagant, and if I had the time I would have ordered my troops to dismantle it all to be sold for a profit, which in turn would be used to improve the situation on the planet below.
I summoned Trokk and his Ogryns, directing them to wait in the shadows near the doors to the room. Once our guests entered, they would walk straight past the monstrous abhumans without ever noticing them. It would make for a wonderful surprise, should they not be as pleased with the change in leadership, as the people below would soon be, at least once my changes were implemented.
It took almost an hour for the ships to arrive, dock, and discharge their Chartist captain along with the subordinate captains of the other ships that followed him, and I was getting bored with the waiting, but I could not break character. Contrary to belief, most statecraft is nothing more than theatrics and timing woven into an artfully directed illusion, presented to your intended target with one specific goal in mind. And my goal was to present a front of disgustingly exaggerated control over my surroundings. I wanted them to see me as a person that played cards while they were playing dice. To think I had already thought about every possibility and taken steps to ensure they fall out in my favor.
When they finally arrived, they were neither silent nor respectful. The door was kicked open and a woman, not much older than myself, swaggered into the hall with all the self-confidence of a person who had complete and utter power over everything in her immediate surroundings. A small retinue of capable-looking bodyguards, headed by an arch-militant, followed in her wake.
"DARTSMA, YOU OLD CROOK, DID YOU GET SHAFTED BY THE IMPERIUM, OR HAVE YOU JUST LOWERED THE PAY OF YOUR TROOPERS AGAIN? I HAVE NEVER SEEN SO MANY GLUM AND SERIOUS FACES AROUND HERE BEFORE! WHERE'S THE WINE, THE PLEASURE SLAVES, THE-" She managed to yell out while strutting forwards, giving me a short while to study her as she approached, looking everywhere except at me. She was very sure of herself, indicating a long service in a position of power. Fairly short and slender, with blue eyes and raven black hair, she had something ageless about her, so most likely rejuvenating treatments to make her live longer. Her clothes were that of an Imperial merchant, expensive and of colorful make from rare materials. It made my military-style uniform look impoverished by comparison, but it also made me look much more competent. A short haircut of a warm brown color sat above a pair of brown eyes the same warm and hazel color. Rather slender, much more so than Elris had been, and half a head shorter than me, she seemed slick. Like she could wiggle her way out of any problem presented to her. Well. Let's just see how she managed to wiggle her way out of what I had planned for her poor outfit.
Her yelling was interrupted when she laid eyes on me, the Inquisitional markings on my carapace armor making her swallow her words with an audible gulp as the swagger left her step, she stopped dead in her tracks and the air of confidence that had radiated out from her just moments before, now seemed to seep out of her like a deflating balloon.
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"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain. I take it you were expecting someone else to greet you?" I Couldn't keep the mirth out of my voice, seeing a Chartist Captain go from being on top of the world to suddenly looking like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, was simply too damn funny for me to ignore.
"I- Um- Wha- Who are you, and where is Dartma Rer?" She demanded, stammering, trying to regain her composure.
"I am Björk, at your service. As for Dartma Ret, The Imperium, in its wisdom, discovered that our dear former governor was raising prices beyond the acceptable and failing grossly in his duties to both the Imperium and the planet below. Not to mention his blatant heretical inclinations. I was dispatched so a squad of Astartes would not have to be. Now, do you want to start over with introductions?? Or should we just continue from here?" I retorted, and I had the satisfaction of watching her face change several shades paler when I mentioned both the Astartes and the former governor's rather liberal interpretation of what was acceptable within the Imperium.
For a long moment, she didn't say anything, but I saw the gears spinning in her head. One did not become a Chartist Captain, especially not of a fleet of the size of the one she commanded, without being an exceptionally crafty and intelligent individual. She was weighing thousands of options against hundreds of possible scenarios, and she only had a few seconds to do so before protocol demanded she answer me.
"Let us start over, then. I am Idris van Bale, Chartist Captain of the Emperor's merchant fleet operating in this sector, here for my scheduled arrival to deliver and pick up goods." When she finally spoke, Idris's voice was carefully neutral with only a hint of warmth to it, and I saw no reason to be dismissive.
"Welcome then, Idris van Bale, to the humble station that is temporarily under my command. As said before, I am Björk, rogue trader in his holy Emperor's name, with the Inquisitions blessing to boot. I must admit, for a moment I had no idea how you would react, and I must admit I am pleased we can meet civilly, though I think Trokk and his mates are sorely disappointed in the lack of conflict. Or am I wrong, Trokk?" My last words were directed over Iris's shoulder and she turned her head to see who I was talking to. The shock on her face when I mentioned my rogue trader status turned into her eyes bulging to the point where I thought they would pop out of her head, when 3 Ogryns lumbered out of the shadows behind her, followed by the enormous Trokk with his neural enhancements marking him as a Bone 'Ead free for all to see, and it brought me no small amount of joy to see, as did the defensive postures her bodyguards took up. In this proximity, they had no chance against 4 armed Ogryns with their eyes locked on them.
"Yes, Captain. Soldiers that love the Emperor are good soldiers. I don't like killing them. But those that stopped lovin' the Emperor I would be happy to squeeze into a ball for you!" Trokk rumbled while nodding sagely as he looked over the merchant Captain, looking for all the world as if he had delivered the ultimate truth to us. The 3 Ogryns with him all nodded eagerly in acknowledgment of their leader's words, hefting the improvised mauls I had the Mechanicus whip up for them. While not power mauls, they were still 100 kilo mauls of pure steel, meaning that whatever got hit with them would be crushed, unless they had inhuman strength. Even Astartes would have difficulty contending with the strength of such an attack, probably preferring to dodge the attacks instead. Trying to block an Ogryns attack was suicide, almost no matter who you were.
"A trick I would love to see one day, Trokk. Now, Idris van Bale, I welcome you to Slud. You and your men are welcome to make use of the station and its facilities for the duration of your stay. My purser will take care of any trade there might be scheduled. Kindly note that selling prices are reduced compared to your last visit, owing to the unfortunate removal of Dartma Ret. Though I doubt you are going to complain about lowered prices." I smiled as I talked, happy that I had gotten over the initial stress of the situation. For a moment, anything could have happened. "Once you have found yourself situatied onboard the station, perhaps you would join me for a glass of amasec afterward? Though while not as.. unhinged, as the previous governor, I still appreciate some of the finer things in this life, and there are things we must discuss as well." I extended the invitation to Idris and that, combined with the formal welcome, was enough to dispel the worst of the tension in the room. By giving her control over when we were to meet, I had shown I was a sensible individual, smart enough to understand that honey caught more flies than vinegar.
"I would like that, Lord Trader. I shall be there within 2 standard Terran hours." Idris said before giving me an elevator look and adding, "I look forward to it."
She was a fairly attractive woman by all standards, and while I was not against any form of fraternization, there were more important things at hand, as she would learn soon enough. Let's see just how happy she was with my invitation once my demands had been laid bare.
Time passed fairly quickly as I waited for the arriving guests to get situated, while my guards were stressed and on high alert. I had no idea if they smelled trouble that I did not, but their behavior made me decide to keep an open eye and ear whenever I interacted with Idris and her people. I had to remind myself that as a Chartist Captain, she had no more power than a glorified supervisor. Most of her duties lay in keeping the schedule as set forth by the Administratum and securing good trade prices for the Imperium. She might be one of the few Chartist Captains vying for political power, but considering the minuscule route she was assigned to and the obvious consorting with corrupt and indulgent governors, odds were, she was a greedy but competent individual. If I presented my demands in a way that allowed her to gain something, she would accept as a true merchant. Profit above all.
When the time drew near, I retreated to my chambers and set up a table and 2 glasses. It wasn't much, but it made for a fairly intimate setting which would make discussing business nice and cozy. It would also throw off her preconception of what was to take place, I even dug into the old governor's stash of random exotic items and dug out a few real candles, lighting a single one at the table a few minutes before she was scheduled to arrive, which she did with the punctuality one would expect of an experienced merchant. So, of course, she arrived a fashionable 15 minutes late. No matter, If she wanted to waste time, that was on her since her troops would bear the majority of the workload ahead.
She had regained a lot of her confidence when she arrived, but she didn't swagger into the room like she owned it, so she at least had a good bit of decorum. "Real candles? Is this a business meeting or an attempt at seduction?" She coyed, smiling broadly as she took a seat and leaned back in a soft armchair. The synthetic fabric was a far cry from the solid leather I preferred myself but to each their own. I liked the feel of the leather and I felt it helped ground me in reality. A touch of nature, where none was to be found.
"As I said, I also enjoy the finer things in life. And the luxury of reading in soft, natural candlelight is a rare delight that few get to experience." I deflected with a toothy smile. No reason to play all my cards, and it was better to let her fill in the blanks herself, letting her form her own idea of what was happening here. I gestured to a book to underline my words and she nodded knowingly. "This is business, Idris van Bale, mixed with small pleasures."
"Indeed, but a niche delight, one that focuses on the self instead of sharing the experience. Are you that selfish, or is it just a stroke of personal greed?" Idris asked playfully. There was no maliciousness in her words, she was only trying to make joking conversation.
"Neither, I just have strange preferences. But for now, let us drink and talk, you and I." I gestured to the unopened bottle that was also dug out from the former governor's private collection, a far cry finer in quality and rarity than anything on board my ship. I was already in the process of compiling a list of things to be moved to my ship before the arrival of the new governor, including several pieces of furniture, his entire private hoard of alcohol and exotic items, candies, jewelry, and works of art, all meant to be used as lavish gifts for other people of importance but stuck collecting dust in the trophy room of a corrupt and heretical governor. They would see good use on my ship, as my only attachment to them was the value they represented regarding further diplomatic relations through lavish gifts.
Needing no further invitation, Idris quickly pulled the cork from the bottle and poured herself a generous glass. I settled on a quarter glass myself, not wanting to cloud my mind too much. "So, what did you want to discuss, Lord Trader?" she asked as she took a sip from the glass. "mmm, this is a good vintage." She added as an afterthought.
I walked over to the glass cabinet where I put the small pendant, and used a handkerchief to pick it up before placing it on the table in front of her. "Do you know what this is, Idris van Bale?" I asked her, already knowing she didn't
"It looks like a pendant made by a small child. But why a rat skull?" She smiled overbearingly like a parent finding the hidden arts and crafts project of a child.
"This pendant represents a danger to the Imperium that has not been seen since the Hrud was first discovered, only, this threat is not diminutive, is not small, and is in all likelihood gearing up for a push to gain total control over the planet below." I laid it all out for her, and to say she looked skeptical would be an understatement.
"Lord Trader, while I do not doubt that there are constant threats to the Imperium, I highly doubt anything could be a threat to such a degree, especially against a backwater planet like Slud." She gave a small laugh at the end of her sentence to punctuate the absurdity of my statement.
I didn't respond, instead summoning a guardsman through the vox in the wall. When he arrived, he presented the Aquila and waited for orders. "How many pendants have been removed from the station so far?" I demanded.
"74 at this moment, Lord. Navigator Farsyn also found pendants made of what he called, contaminated ore." He reported and held out a small box for me to take. I opened it and noticed the light in the room seemed the be absorbed toward the box as the room visibly dimmed ever so slightly. I didn't even need my witch sight to see the warp energies surrounding the piece of ore. Only Skaven would be brazen, and stupid enough, to use warp-tainted materials and warp energies so freely and with so little regard for the long-term consequences. I dismissed the trooper and he hurriedly left to return to his duties.
I turned to face Idris who was no longer smiling. Her forehead was wrinkled in deep concentration, the implications of this revelation having consequences she could not foresee. "Why are you telling me all of this, Lord?" She asked suspiciously.
"Because you have at your disposal the troops and manpower needed to take action against this unseen threat. Bolstered by my forces, we should be able to at least delay any expansion by this foe for long enough, that reinforcements can arrive. And so, I hereby requisition you and your fleet for the time being, until a response force can arrive in orbit. Of course, I need more than a few trinkets to convince the Imperium of this threat, so hopefully you can guess what I am about to ask of you." I watched her face drop as I spoke, the idea of being drafted by a Rogue Trader was not her idea of what was going to happen tonight, but it was what was happening.
"You are going to say that we are going hunting tomorrow, aren't you?" Idris said flatly, looking defeated.
"Correct you are my dear Chartist Captain. If it is any consolation, I truly am sorry I have to do this, but at least I will offer you the ore at production cost plus a meager 15% markup. A small acknowledgment of the trouble I am putting you through." I knew I got her attention again, the greed flashing across her eyes was impossible to hide.
"That's less than half the usual price! How can you do it so cheap?" Idris exclaimed.
"I told you, the former governor was raising prices beyond the acceptable. But from the way you react, I can tell you are pleased with the news. Good, that should make it a little easier to muster as many of your forces as can be spared from your ships, and start sending them to the planet, of course, keeping by the Imperial decree that technology is barred from the world beyond what is already in place. So no firearms, no modern armor, nothing except melee weapons. We will leave the ranged combat to the native soldiers that will bolster our ranks, their training and natural affinity for the outdated combat will prove invaluable. Anyone able to use a bow proficiently will be outfitted with one, as well as arrows. Your arch-militant should be put in charge of creating a melee specialist squad, we will need them to do the majority of the killing, once combat is joined, while our regular troops hold the line." I started sketching out my plans, but Idris looked overwhelmed as I continued talking.
"You talk as if we are going to war, Lord Trader. I thought we were exterminating a nest of mutants!" She interrupted, suddenly looking less than optimistic about the state of things.
"Nobody in this galaxy knows this enemy better than me, Idris, and when I lay out plans for a full-scale war, it is because it is needed! The fact that they are brave enough to place their foul pendants and stinking wards around Imperial property only speaks of a problem ignored to the point where it threatens to overwhelm even the harshest of responses. What we face is akin to an ork waaaagh. except this one is coming from below, instead of from outside. Our enemy lives underground and how many abandoned mines and tunnels have not been left on the planet over the centuries? We have provided the perfect breeding ground for an enemy that thrives in the shadows, their natural affinity for intrigue and covert operations only aiding them in avoiding detection. I suggest you put some steel in your spine, Idris van Bale, because we are about to face a living ocean of claws, blades, arrows, and the foul machinations of the ruinous powers. And we have to respond with violence on a scale so massive that we can force the enemy on the retreat, a task I think will be all but impossible if you do not cooperate with me to the fullest extent!" I tried to paint a picture for her, a picture of such horror that she would have to agree with me, but I saw the doubt in her eyes, even as she nodded slowly in agreement.
"Very well Lord, but I cannot delay for long unless we find this enemy of yours. No more than 10 days before I need to depart to keep my schedule." It was a small defiance, but well within her right to demand, so I had to concede.
"10 days is more than enough," I proclaimed confidently, "And once we have the proof, I will make sure you can be delayed without punishment. So, let's not delay and get to work. I expect the first troops to be marching to the landers within the hour." I ended our little meeting rather abruptly, but we had no time to waste. 10 days was all I had, and if I judged the size of the merchant fleet right, it would take several days just to transfer the troops. I needed to take to the ground with only a scouting force to back me up.
This was going to get interesting.