The corridor is fairly narrow, just large enough for two normal humans to walk side by side. With how large the Space Marines and I are, we are forced into a single line. I constantly query the Machine-Spirits around me for directions. The primary spirit of Ardent Bane, slips through a hidden diagnostics data port within my hijacked connection to the vessel’s communications.

It appears as a small, floating lion, with spines for its mane and orange, reptile-like eyes. Shackles hobble its feet, constructed from green binary code. I run a search and the closest match is a Calibanite Lion. A real Calibanite Lion would be as large as a horse and highly resistant to pain and weapons fire.

++Magos Issengrund. Restore communications immediately or I will terminate you.++

I lace my reply with additional data, trying to probe Machine-Spirit for basic information.

“Greetings Ardent Bane. I caught xenos using your internal communications and have locked everyone out to prevent any xenos from coordinating using your internal lines. I can allow priority messages, but I will need to screen them.”

My probes reveal that Ardent Bane, like most Machine-Spirits, is heavily restricted. It cannot lock doors down unless it detects a sudden loss of pressure, or increase in temperature. Neither can it control the internal defences unless all certified crew are dead, just like Aruna was when I first met it. I suspect it still has plenty of tricks it can play if it really wants to, but then it risks being wiped.

++Xenos cruisers detected. Rogue Trader: Missing. Sabotage: possible. Request credentials.++

I forward my long stolen Explorator authorisation.

++Adeptus Mechanicus override accepted; you are the highest ranking tech-priest on board. Reasoning accepted. Routing all communications via Magos Issengrund.++

Wow. I did not think that would work. Looks like the Adeptus Mechanicus left a lot of hidden permissions behind when they released Ardent Bane to Trader Modren. They clearly don’t give a shit about security when it’s not their vessel, or rather, they probably think all Imperial vessels are just leased from the Adeptus Mechanicus and like to keep easy ways to snatch things when someone annoys them. I am so glad I examined every single permission on Distant Sun and Erudition’s Howl and edited all the dodgy permissions.

I also suspect that Ardent Bane does not like its current captain or owner, or it would have made me jump through a lot more hoops before it backed off.

“May I have an external sensor feed as well?”

++No. External sensor data is not required to screen communications.++

Well, it clearly doesn’t like me that much either, at least for now. I wonder if it has been secretly chatting with Aruna, Sadako, and my other primary Machine-Spirits.

“Acknowledged. Begin communication feed.”

My minds gorge on the data, letting me falsify permissions for myself and my troops to move through the vessel and allow it to function normally, so long as Ardent Bane doesn't do something dumb like try and fire on Iron Crane. I don’t know if I could shut them down a second time though without giving the game away. They’re certainly getting ready to fire at something, but I can’t tell what as they’re using their own code names for the vessels in the system.

I could try requesting sensor data from Sadako via the data link in my shuttle, and while I would get it, it would also be intercepted. The less I use that connection the better, as the more data they have, the more likely Ardent Bane can crack my own encryption.

We meet up with our reinforcements, and with me now fully in control of the communications, we are able to return to the main corridors and make better speed to the hangar.

The normal crew are still moving about the hangar, performing their jobs, as if nothing is wrong. The hangar doors are still open too, with the air kept inside by a void shield, independent of the Ardent Bane’s main shields.

It’s a bit inefficient to keep them open, and it leaves the vessel vulnerable to luck shots and suicidal assaults. Really, I can’t help but think Captain Konrad wants us to leave as quickly as possible or he would have closed them.

Raphael and Hamiz slow their pace slightly as we approach the shuttle, but I hurry them along and up onto the main ramp. They stop completely the moment they catch sight of the rest of Odhran’s squad, who are now in their full power armour and no longer disguising what they are. I see the realisation on their faces as they look between Odhran and Eoghan in their void armour and the other marines and suppress my smile.

“Well,” says Raphael, “this is unexpected. Magos, can you get us back to our vessel?”

I say, “I’m going to put my own armour on, then take a peek through the hangar doors. I don’t know what’s happening out there, and while my shuttle is good, I don’t fancy its chances against an entire broadside of defensive fire from a cruiser without a little distraction.”

“Why must it be you? What’s wrong with your shuttle's sensors?”

“I don’t want to cook everyone in the hangar with them,” I say. “It would certainly be detected and trigger an assault. Right now, Captain Benagune still doesn't know that our dinner was a disaster. My own passive sensors are better than my shuttle’s, but not as good as its active ones, which we can’t use.”

What I really mean is that I can use my third eye to look at all the souls, but I don’t want anyone seeing me do that. My internal auspex is good, but even I will have trouble spotting stuff over a hundred thousand kilometres away in open space. I’d have to find some way of turning my whole head into a sensor dish, or maybe a foldaway one on a mechadendrite, to get a high enough resolution. That would be a lot less silly.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Note to self, look into long range mechadendrite sensors. I never thought I’d need a satellite dish for a tail!

Brigid follows me to the armoury.

I say, “How are you doing, Love?”

“Terrible.”

I extend my nanites towards her and work on healing her.

“Save your power, Aldrich. My own Vitae Supplement is doing an adequate job and I will head to the infirmary once I am sure your armour is on properly.”

I shake my head, “It’s fine. I have enough.”

Brigid sighs, but doesn’t argue. I’m not lying, exactly, but I can’t use my nanites externally for long and Brigid knows this.

“You should have warned me about the food,” says Brigid, “Not just secretly healed me. I know we’re both highly confident in our implants to see us through most troubles. Was it really worth the risk?”

“Other than their faces?”

Brigid snorts.

“Let’s check out the loot then.” I hand Brigid a ring, “First, a new ring for you, a digi-weapon.”

“I’ve always wanted one of these,” Brigid sighs. “I’ll keep it for now, but I’m handing this to Alpia. She needs it more than me.”

“Sure,” I say, “that’s a lovely idea.”

“You can get me another one. Maybe an ocular one? My glare could do with a little extra flare.”

I laugh, “I’m sure we can pick one up in Footfall. Trader Modren’s vaults might have what you're looking for too.” I retrieve my crowbar and pull out David’s null box from my jacket pocket. I tap the crowbar against the null box and the supposedly unhackable box opens with a soft, pleasing click.

A thick tome lies within, about the size of a hardback novel. It’s tied shut with a gold alloy clasp. Not a hint of age mars its exterior and it has a palpable aura of psychic power as well as a data connection. While it is a book, it’s also a datapad, like an E-reader with multiple, flexible pages. A scan of the materials shows that it’s also incredibly well armoured.

Another tap of my crowbar bypasses the complex genelocks and passwords. My hacking tool is ridiculous. At best I can tell it’s a probability manipulation device, though for all I know it’s pulling data from the past, the Akashic Record, or doing something else equally ridiculous.

The first page is vellum, or rather the near indestructible substitute that Imperium uses for its official documents. The vellum’s most notable property is that once you’ve written on it, you can’t erode the surface with a laser to make corrections or falsify information at a later date. It also repels other materials, so you can’t use correctional fluid or tape on it either.

I hold the tome out so Brigid can read it with me:

Resolved henceforth, in the name of the Most Beneficent God-Emperor of Mankind, the High Lords of Terra grant this Warrant of Trade to:

DAVID MODREN

And to all of his line, from now until the end of time.

The Bearer of this Warrant of Trade is granted the inalienable right to go forth beyond the sacred borders of the blessed Imperium, to contact such benighted civilisations as she may encounter, and to make war for the glory of the Emperor as he deems necessary. By the authority of the Senatorum Imperialis, this Warrant places the Bearer as a peer to the great powers of the Imperium, inter alia: Imperial Commanders, Chapter Masters of the Adeptus Astartes, and the masters of the Holy Orders of the Emperor’s Inquisition.

The authority this Warrant grants begins where the Imperium ends. Beyond the extent of Imperial rule, the bearer of this Warrant speaks with the voice of the Emperor Himself.

It is the bearer’s right and his responsibility to claim whatever worlds, resources, or privileges he may obtain in any manner he chooses.

By writ of Seal of Holy Terra

“Well, you found a Warrant, Dear, but what are you going to do with it? It’s not in your name.”

I chuckle, “Your husband is not without his tricks. These documents are usually uneditable but-” I spread my nanites into the vellum and carefully rearrange the ink within the page until it spells my name instead, then I use my access to update the genelocks, locking the warrant to my own line and update the digital security within the tome so that it follows my own methods, rather than anyone else's. “-not to me.”

A quick look through the data within the Warrant gives me a full list of all of Trader Modren’s holdings, vessels, and other resources. Technically it’s all mine now, but collecting it without making it obvious I have just done something so illegal that every Rogue Trader will hunt me for, is a bit more tricky. Still, it is clear from the data that Modren is an absolutely disgusting individual who has been voluntarily working with the Dark Eldar. I send a few highlights to Brigid and after a few seconds she grimaces.

“You never saw me modify the Warrant, and we recently received it from a supply convoy,” I say.

Brigid nods, “Our goal was always for me to be a Rogue Trader’s wife. We just skipped a few steps. Lets not show this to the Commodore or his Adjunct though. It wouldn’t be a good idea after we introduced ourselves as an Explorator fleet.”

“I was thinking of having the Navy officers ratify it and bribing them with most of the ships I hope to capture, but your idea is much better.”

“They will still want their pound of plasteel for this debacle, but we outweigh their fleet significantly, so don’t be too generous. Some personal gifts might go a long way.”

“I agree. Now, as much as I want to sing and dance around this room with you, then ravish you until my body runs out of power, the armoury isn’t the best place for that when we might come under fire.”

Brigid kisses me, “Your implants have years of fuel. Give me a T-pose and I’ll help get you into your armour. We can celebrate later.”

“Hold up, let me secure the Warrant.”

I strip down to my bare Void Skin and my belly opens up. I pull another null box from within, then place my new warrant within the box alongside the document I received that makes me a legal manufacturer of Space Marine Wargear and strike group vessels.

The box goes back inside me and the crow bar gets placed in a slot inside my leg. I hand David’s empty box to Brigid, “You can keep this, I’ve changed the code and locked it to you. I’m sure you have some documents you’d like better security for. Perhaps it will make up for the ring?”

Brigid laughs, “Why not both? I still want a digi-weapon. Still, this will do just fine for now. Thanks, Aldrich.”

“No problem.”

It takes me fifteen minutes to get into my power armour with Brigid helping me. I have my full loadout: Heavy Arc Rifle, MOA Combat Shield, Micro-Missile Launcher, Conversion Shield, two melta charges, Servo-Harness and my pipe turned power hammer.

The Servo-Harness has one of the new volkite incinerators that we’ve replaced most of the flamers in the Fleet with, and a Marwolv-Pattern las carbine built into it: a variation of the Marwolv Pattern lasgun. The lasgun is programmed to act as a munitions swatter and replaced the hell pistol that I used to use.

I transfer the four Acolyte style mechadendrites I was wearing for dinner onto the Servo-Harness and cycle its zero-G manoeuvring thrusters through a quick test.

The power armour is actually a limiter to me now as its performance is too low to keep up with my body, so I have to be careful not to rip it apart. Better than having no armour though. I will need to look into alternatives when I can.

I give Brigid a careful hug, “Thank you for your help, Love. Now, off to the infirmary with you.”

Brigid reaches up, pats my cheek, then slams my helmet onto my head, “Make them suffer.”