Inherit the Stars (40K-Rogue Trader)

[Imperial Overlord]

Gaius Poladin strode towards the bridge, data slate in hand. There were four men at the entrance, two looking in and two looking out. All of them wore carapace armour over the dark blue and red uniforms of Mustarios household troops and clenched hellguns in armoured gauntlets. Their gazes were hidden behind dark visors. Poladin couldn't help but feel a chill in their presence. It was a relief to move passed them.

The command deck was huge. Near the back Lord Captain Mustarios was sitting upon the command throne. Two long pits housed servitors slaved to ship stations and the ship's machine spirit. Closer to the lord captain were human personnel manning various command and control stations. More junior personnel manned ancillary stations, monitored ship functions, or watched the servitors.

Sybel Dawning stood just off Paul's left, a power sword slung over a dark blue long coat with vermilion shoulder boards and an autopistol on her hip. "Lord Captain," began Gaius, "if I may?"

"Approach," said Paul, a slight smile on his lips. "What do you have?"

"A proposal, my lord captain. Turibia Minor is an unimportant world about five hundred light years from Holy Terra. The last part of the warp passage is prone to shifts and eddies. Most Chartists captains won't chance it and Rogue Traders don't operate this close to Terra. It is, however, subject to periodic Ork raids and doesn't have enough industry to supply the weapons they need. Battlefleet patrols are irregular do to the same shifts which means that the Orks are almost never intercepted."

"And I suppose they can pay?"

"Their industry gets hammered when the Orks attack, but they have mining and agricultural resources that makes it worth the trip. The Administratum collects tithes every ten years or so. Last time was four years. With enough weapons to put a fight off any Ork raiders that show up, they can easily afford that."

"Mars?"

"The Sollax Works in the Belt actually. Defense lasers, anti-vehicle and anti-air lascannons, anti-personnel and anti-air multilasers-"

"I get the picture."

"The first two thirds of the journey will be through well mapped space. I thought this would make a good shakedown voyage. The first part easy, the last leg a little harder, and profit at the end."

"And if our timing is bad a fight at the end."

"I believe we are in the service of a rogue trader and risk goes with the territory."

"Not even a hint of a smile Mister Poladin. I'm impressed."

"Cards, my lord. They're good training if you can manage not to lose your shirt."

"I'll keep that in mind. Very well Mister Poladin. Inform the Sollax Works that they have a sale."

"With pleasure, Lord Captain."

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The man who answered to the name of Deckan West walked alone through the bowels of the Lord Gregor. Deckan West was an able spacer with fifteen years experience in the void and an excellent record for both skill and diligence. He had signed with the Lord Gregor in hopes of winning fame and fortune. What he had received was a bullet in the head and an secret cremation. His murder assumed his identity and took his berth.

The corridor was an access way from the enginarium control rooms to the engines themselves. Tubes heavy with control system wiring and power conduits ran along the ceiling and through the walls. The assassin stopped at an access panel and knelt down. He knelt down beside it and pried open the panel. From a pocket in his overalls he slipped a grey case. He opened it revealing rounded square of something that looked a lot like worked ivory, but was not. A dark blue jewel was set in the center. He touched the jewel and closed the case. Reaching up, he attached it to the inside surface of the wall directly above the access panel. He closed the panel and walked away.

The ship was still in port. Jumping ship would be simple enough. Deckan West would be missed, but nothing would be wrong and it wouldn't be the first time a void sailor had jumped ship. He wouldn't be the only one either. He would shed the Deckan West identity in favor of others as he traveled back to his master to report that the plan was in motion. Paul Mustarios's days were numbered as were all of those who served aboard the Lord Gregor.

[Vehrec]

500 light year run? Easy, although the navigation at the end might be troublesome. One wrong warp eddy and the ship drops out with a thousand years of temporal displacement, forward or back. The Navigators might appreciate the challenge or they might decide it's a pain in the ass to have to work so hard. It might be a bit like one of the crews on Deadliest Catch trying to put in to offload during the Opelio season when the ice reaches their grounds. Every moment nerve wracking, men up against the hull to watch for damage, slowly pressing forward into thickening resistance.

And is that some sort of Eldar thingy? It sounds like it, although all sufficiently advanced technology looks the same on the printed page.

[LadyTevar]

I was also thinking "Wraithbone"

[Emerson33260]

Just discovered this story, and find it well above average for this site, with well-imagined settings and distinct characters. I was amused that most recent episode identified the Navigator as an undeveloped NPC when he was not consulted as he should have been in the decision to make the destination for Lord Gegor's first run to be Turibia Minor. The captain must at least pretend to take his Navigator's counsel on the ship's destinations. You do need a copy editor, but I have successfully resisted the urge to volunteer because I am already making far too little progress with my own writing.

[Imperial Overlord]

Just discovered this story, and find it well above average for this site, with well-imagined settings and distinct characters. I was amused that most recent episode identified the Navigator as an undeveloped NPC when he was not consulted as he should have been in the decision to make the destination for Lord Gegor's first run to be Turibia Minor. The captain must at least pretend to take his Navigator's counsel on the ship's destinations.

Funny you should mention that. The good Lord Mustarios is about to find that out.

[Emerson33260]

Funny you should mention that. The good Lord Mustarios is about to find that out.

But they will go to Turibia Minor in the end even so, because no alternative destinations/red herrings were proposed. Now what does Turibia Minor have that Lord Gregor can load up on that will have value further out? Or is data so hard to come by that they won't know until they get there?

[General Trelane (Retired)]

But they will go to Turibia Minor in the end even so, because no alternative destinations/red herrings were proposed. Now what does Turibia Minor have that Lord Gregor can load up on that will have value further out? Or is data so hard to come by that they won't know until they get there?

As said in the story, "they have mining and agricultural resources that makes it worth the trip." I don't think we need an exact accounting of Gauis Poladin's marketing plans at this time.

[Imperial Overlord]

The touch of a hand on his shoulder caused Japhel Magellos to stir uneasily in his bed. "What?" he said with eyes still half shut and a brain full of fog.

"My lord, your esteemed uncle has called for a full meeting of the family," said Clara softly. The petit valet was barely over one hundred fifty centimeters and wore a vermillion uniform that proclaimed her status as a retainer of House Magellos.

Japhel yawned and motioned the blond woman away. "Lay out clothes, comfortable, and an overrobe." He staggered out of bed naked. "And a new headband."

He lurched across his bedroom and into the marble tiled bathroom. The shower enclosure opened automatically and hot water started running before he reached it. The door closed behind it and he luxuriated in the spray. After a few minutes he was fully awake and reached for the soap. The water sluiced away the foam and he stepped out of the shower. Clara and Danica stood waiting, their gaze averted. Japhel had not removed the black silk band that had covered his third eye in the shower. "Proceed," he commanded.

The body servants dried him with fluffy towels and anointed him with scented oils. He stepped into the next room and dressed himself in the clothes that had been laid out. Plain black pants, a simple white undertunic, and a black over tunic with gold buttons and a stylized zig-zag pattern worked in cloth of gold. His servants handed him a robe of vermilion silk and he draped it over his body, belting it with a sash. "Leave me," he commanded. They departed.

He removed his headband and stared into the mirror. He was almost handsome, by human standards. Almost. Tall, lithe, with a well formed face and a short, thick dark hair. His skin was a touch too pale by some standards and his eyes were wells of black ink. All three of them. On his forehead was the black orb of his warp eye, the mutation that allowed him to stare into the warp and stay sane. The mutation that granted unparalleled ability to navigate the dangerous tides of the warp and helped make a far flung human empire possible. A mutation that brought death to those that looked upon it and the finest of gilded chains to those that bore it.

He covered his warp eye with a navy blue headband shot through with streaks of gold and departed from his chambers. Alyss was waiting for him outside his chambers. She wore a black gown under her robe. Physically, Japhel and his cousin were much alike. Tall, graceful, pale, and dark haired they were the scions of bloodlines that touched frequently. However, her eyes were shining blue. She had not begun to succumb to the inevitable tide of mutation that consumed all Navigators. The genetic changes that made them what they were, tied them so closely to the warp, and the prolonged exposure to the power of the immaterium eventually combined to warp and alter Navigator's flesh. Webbed fingers, claw-like hands, and gross variations in weight were the most common of the changes. Webbed fingers, claws, weight change, and eyes as black as the void.

"Hello cousin," he said.

She inclined her head gracefully. "I decided to wait for you."

"Courtesy or a desire not to go to the meeting alone?"

"Perhaps both?"

He snorted. "Do you have any idea what it is about?"

"Our first course, I would imagine. It's getting about that time."

The two Navigators walked down the hall towards a pair of four meter tall ebony doors. The dark wood was inlaid with platinum stars and moons. A pair of guards wearing vermilion and black carapace armour stood guard, automatic drum fed shotguns in their hands.

The Navigators passed and the doors closed behind them. Inside a room with nests of throw pillows piled around a hololithic table. The gross physical deformities that Navigators could develop sometimes made sitting in chairs impossible. The others were waiting for them.

"Glad you two could finally join us," said Tiberius. The eldest's toad-like body was half buried in pillows. "We have matters of importance to discuss. Our honour and dignity are at stake."

Philippos nodded like the gutless sycophant that he was. Yvenna remained motionless and noncommittal, a slender statue of living marble. Alyss settled down in one of the patches of pillows. Japhel walked to the other patch. "And what grave offense has been committed against our honour?" he asked skeptically. The old bastard was just pissed that he actually had to do some damn work.

"Only the gravest!" said Tiberius. "A course has been set without consulting us. As if we were mere servants!"

"We are servants," said Japhel as he sat down cross legged. "Our entire purpose is to serve. And because our service is so very vital we are rewarded with wealth and power, but we exist to serve mankind."

"Very pretty," said Tiberius. "Are you finished with your recitation or may I continue? We are Navigators! We set the course, we are masters of the warp, and we are owed the respect our position demands!"

"The captain is the master of the ship," said Japhel, a smile on his lips. "The sole master. The Navigator controls the course in the warp. He is captain and Mustarios. A young, unproven captain. He cannot be seen to yield. To anyone."

"We are not servitors!" roared Tiberius, spittle flying from his lips.

"No," said Japhel, "we are not. But we do take his orders."

Tiberius sneered. "You're a good little dog, aren't you?"

"Want to test my teeth?" asked Japhel sweetly. "Or do you want to throw a fit before we've left dock? Do you think he'll back down under those conditions? Or will he replace us with a more . . . tractable house? How do you think that will go over with the Hierarchy? What do you think that will do to your position?"

Tiberius growled. "Don't threaten me boy."

"Throwing a fit will get you off this ship," said Japhel, "but it won't get you someplace better."

"And your solution is to let this insult pass?" said Tiberius contemptuously.

"Not at all," said Japhel. "One should politely remind the rogue trader and scion of the ancient and noble House of Mustarios of the place of wise and puissant Navis Nobilite in deciding such matters. Without offending him or appearing to undermine his authority among the crew."

"You're such a tame curr," said Tiberius. "Alyss."

"Yes uncle?" the young Navigator said sweetly.

"Educate the boy on the right way of doing things."

"As you wish," she said with a bow.

"This meeting is over." Japhel, Alyss, and Yvenna stood up and walked out the door.

"You provoked him deliberately," Alyss hissed.

"The fat fraud is looking for an excuse to scuttle this contract, a contract we need, and get back to sitting on his overfed arse," whispered Japhel. "As if I'm going to let his manufactured tantrum scuttle our chances at careers of note and this opportunity to rebuild the family fortune."

"Out there, there is no Hierarchy for him to answer to. He's the highest authority."

"Out there, he's just a lazy never was with delusions of adequacy," replied Japhel. "Out there, the Navigator who can get the ship to where the captain wants it is senior."

"Your ambition is going to get you into trouble."

"We're already in trouble, cousin dear. We're up to our necks in it and you'd better learn how to swim."

[Emerson33260]

Another plot and plot line. Right now, Las Vegas bookies are offering fifty-to-one against Tiberius finishing this commission alive and with mind intact.

[Imperial Overlord]

The Mustarios household troopers stood aside and let Alyss Magellos into the captain's office. Paul Mustarios was seated behind the polished oak desk. The place was decorated with a restrained hand and the shelves that lined the walls were mostly empty, waiting to be filled. He does not feel the need to overawe with wealth, thought Alyss. Instead he displays his taste and his ambition for those wise enough to perceive it. "My lord captain," she said with a slight bow.

"My lady Navigator. Please make yourself comfortable. May I offer you some refreshment?"

"No thank you, my lord captain." Her sight beyond sight caused her to turn her head to the left. Leaning against the corner, shrouded and shadow and out of the sight lines of any that would enter the room was a whipcord lean young woman.

She pretended to ignore the bodyguard. Both of them knew the realities of high politics. "My lord, I have come regarding a matter of some concern for my fellows." She clasped her hands on the back of one of the chairs. Sitting would be the action of a supplicant.

"Please continue," said Paul Mustarios.

"The course of the ship has been sent without consultation of the ship's Navigators. That is both unwise and against custom."

"My apologies," said Paul Mustarios. "I have sent several requests to consult with the senior among you, but I have met with no response."

Damn Tiberius to Khorne's bloodiest hell, Alyss thought angrily. "We have been occupied with settling in," she said calmly. "I apologize for any perceived rudeness. There must have been some confusion on the part of the servants. In the future a notice that directly mentions setting a course will elicit an immediate response."

"Thank you," said Paul. "I'll keep that in mind. Having said that, do you and your colleagues have an opinion on our course?"

"We believe it to be low risk and well within our capabilities," she replied. "If it is your desire, we shall guide the ship through the warp to Turibia."

"Excellent," said Paul with a broad smile. "Please keep me informed of all information and real space course work you require so that I can see that your needs are fulfilled."

"Thank you captain. Our retainers will be in touch. I hope we have a long and convivial relationship."

"As do I," said Paul as he rose from the desk. He stepped around the desk and raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. She blinked with surprise at being the object of the ancient courtesy. Navigators were crucial for the Imperium, but they were still mutants and thus unclean. For a mundane not in the service of a house to deliberate touch one was almost unheard of. "If there is anything I can do for you and your colleagues, please let me know."

"Thank you captain," she said, recovering her composure. "You are most kind. With your leave I will depart."

"You have it," said Paul. Her skirts swished as she turned and left. The door closed automatically behind her.

"We need to know what is going on among their ranks," he said, his voice as cold and deadly as space.

"A spy will be impossible," replied Dawning. "Tech sorcery will be questionable."

"For now maybe," said Paul, "but it will be done, one way or the other. Consider that your priority."

"Your will, my lord captain."

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Soloman Kridge wasn't tall, but he was a big, big man and while he carried a little too much around his waist most of his mass was muscle, bone, and gristle. He was used to casually intimidating men, but the cook's assistant who was maybe two-thirds his size was either oblivious or unimpressed. "Sorry. Can't do it?"

"Did you just 'can't' me boy?" Soloman growled. "I didn't think you were that dumb."

"Sorry petty officer," the smaller man repeated, "the scraps from the officer's tables are already spoken for. The head cook has an arrangement." And the muscle to back it up went unspoken.

"Bloody hell," Soloman swore. "You think I'm going to take this lying down?"

"Nothing I can do about it," said the younger man.

Kridge punched the wall in frustration, with almost enough force to injure something. He turned and stomped away from the junior officer's mess, grumbling as he went. Back in his bunk room he found Tekton playing dice. He grumbled and sat down on his bunk. Tekton finished a few more rounds and then gave up the dice to another player. He trundled over to Kridge.

They were an odd pair. Mauricio Tekton was a tall, lean voidborn spacer with almost no body hair and a stretched out looking body. A thin layer of dark hair lay on the top of his head and beady eyes looked out over a pointed nose. Kridge was shorter, stocky, and blessed with abundant body hair and perpetual stubble. They had taken to each other immediately because while they barely knew each other, they knew the type.

"How'd it go?" asked Tekton.

"Officers spoken for," glowered Kridge. "No joy."

"Crew mess," said Tekton. "Almost anything will do for juice if you treat it right. Cut the lightning with water and a little juice drink and we have a concern."

"Still need cooperation in the kitchen."

"We work the gambling thing, we get more cash. Recruit a likely lad or two from your detail and we've got muscle. Find a spot?"

"Yeah. Equipment locker. We break the door, transfer the tools to another locker, and the closet never quite gets fixed right. Set the still up in there."

"Sounds like we're about to be in business."

[LadyTevar]

Where there's a SHIP, there shall be a Still.

[Vehrec]

Where there's a SHIP, there shall be a Still.

Even if the ship is big enough for an official distillery? Hey, I wonder if that would be a Morale increaser on a rogue Trader ship or not... probably both depending on what you use for mash.

[Imperial Overlord]

"All systems ready," said junior lieutenant Stall Olefsson. He was space tall and spacer lean with pale skin and a shock of blond hair.

"We await your word, my lord captain."

Paul Mustarios leaned forward slightly. "Our status magos?" he asked, looking to his left.

The red robed techpriest emitted a staticky burst of binary. "All machine spirits active and obedient. All systems ready on your command."

"Signal docking control that we will begin to depart," said Captain Paul Mustarios. "Power to main engines and maneuvering thrusters, but no burn."

"Aye, aye captain," said a young ensign. "Main engine and maneuvering systems are hot, standing by for burn."

"Lines have disconnected, gantries are uncoupled," said the techpriest. Time seemed to stretch out. "Gantries retracting."

There was another short eternity. "Permission to depart granted," said a Ensign Catecal.

"Helm, maneuvering thrusters only, one quarter gee burn for four seconds. Take us out."

The Lord Gregor slowly coasted forward. The sides of the construction cradle slowly slid by. Observation galleries were packed with watchers as the the grand cruiser began to inch toward the void.

"Status?" asked Mustarios.

"All green lights," said Olefsson. "Course is steady and holding."

"Second maneuvering thruster burn," ordered Mustarios. "One half gee, four seconds."

The Lord Gregor picked up speed. Her adamantium prow nudged into open space.

"Open void," Ignacius Cole said soflty. He was standing just behind the captain's throne. Then, louder. "We have touched free space captain."

"I see it Mister Cole," said Paul. "And it is beautiful."

"We are drifting slightly to starboard," said Oleffson. "Zero point zero one meters per second."

"Helm, correction burn," ordered Paul. "Schedule the maneuvering thrusters for a full check."There was a brief puff of flame from the starboard thrusters to correct the drift as the Lord Gregor continued into open space. "Take us on to our departure path, maneuvering thrusters only. When we're fifteen kilometers from the dock, light the main drive at one tenth power until we're a safe distance away."

Cole put his hand on Paul's shoulder. "Well done captain."

"Thank you flag lieutenant," said Paul. "In the future, do not take liberties with my person."

"My apologies, my lord captain," said Ignacius as he retraced his hand. "It was the heat of the moment."

"Apology accepted," said Paul.

"But don't forget again," Sybel Dawning whispered in Cole's ear.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Huh," grunted Soloman Kridge. "So you're the fresh body?"

"Yes petty officer," said Lyda Sharp. She a touch on the short side and on the compact side, but not in a bad way in Kridge's opinion. There were grease marks on her overalls and hands. Some girls thought they could skip the nastiest work because they looked good. Those ones paid for it, but not in coin.

"You're not a spacer."

"No sir, not before-"

"I'm not a sir."

"Sorry petty officer. What I meant is that I'm not a spacer. But I do know tech systems. I had lay Mechanicus training and worked on maintenance and repair of hive systems back on Terra."

"Huh," said Kridge. "Handy. Worked with high power lines before?"

"Yes petty officer."

"Good. Introduce yourself to the rest of the boys and I'll walk you through what we usually do on our shift. Mostly inspection and preventative maintenance for now, but once this old girl gets into a few fights or bumped by 'roids and so on, then our work really begins."

"I understand petty officer?"

"Smoke?" he said, offering out a pack of lho sticks.
"No thanks," she said.

"Suit yourself," he said, hiding his disappointment. He took stick and put it in his mouth. A few flicks of a lighter and he was inhaling the rich smoke. "Alright then. Let's get started."

[LadyTevar]

A new character on the ship, I see. Lyda Sharp? I wonder what role she will play?

[Imperial Overlord]

The Lord Gregor cruised through the Sol System on the course approved by traffic control. At any given point a half dozen weapon systems and a dozen sensor antennas were pointed at the grand cruiser as she made her stately voyage. After nearly two days of travel the ship reached the appointed place and vanished in a flare of a thousand colours as it entered the Immaterium.

The Lord Gregor swam through the warp with massive shutters blocking her view ports and windows. The crew and officers went about their business as usual, finding what worked and fixing that which didn't. This was a shakedown cruiser and the Lord Gregor was a brand new vessel. A few surprises were inevitable.

There was one exception, of course. In a chamber near the bridge, Japhel Magellos was enthroned in a crystalline dome. Hexagrammic wards laid into the crystal helped keep the worst of the warp at bay as the Navigator's third eye, a smooth orb of absolute dark, gazed into insanity. Insanity gazed back at him.

It was Japhel's job to derive order and meaning from the rolling chaos that churned outside the Lord Gregor's Gellar Fields. Lines and feeds connected his flesh, nourishing him, removing his waste, and keeping him awake as he steered the ship through hell.

Behind him shone the Astronomicon, almost blindingly bright. There was no question of his course or direction. The Lord Gregor was a powerful ship, easily pushing through the tides of the warp as she flew towards her goal. The warp was perhaps more turbulent and discordant than normal, but that wasn't too unusual.

Time flows in deceptive ways in the warp. It was hard to say how long it took, but soon the Lord Gregor entered a more turbulent passage. The ship was occasionally shaken by a great buffet, but there was nothing here with the force to seriously threaten the ship and Japhel was able to see most of the the most energetic eddies in time to steer the ship out of the way.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soloman gently slapped the burly rating in the face. "Turk, Turk, Turk. What I am going to do with you? You owe and yet you don't pay."

The rating slipped back from the crew chief, retreating deeper into the storage room. "Sorry, sorry. Look, I'm just a bit short. I'll make it up to you."

"The rest of you, take a hike," said Maurico Tekton. He was cleaning his nails with twenty centimeters worth of knife. The other two ratings took on look at the two veteran spacers and left.

"Kridge, look, I would never cheat you."

"I know you wouldn't," said Kridge gently. "But I can't let a man simply not pay me when he owes. So you're going to have to make it up to me."

"Sure, sure. Anything."

"Good. Now since you load cargo, you're going to help me get a little bite. Not big enough to notice and not big enough for someone in the upper levels to care, but just a little that fell off the shuttle. Understand?"

"But if they find out-"

"Then you had better be sneaky, eh?"

"Uh, yeah. Whatever you say."

"Good boy. By the way, you're just a deck hand and I'm a petty officer. Your word against mind if this goes to security. Nothing will happen to me, but you, you will have an accident if it does. A really bad accident."

"I understand."

"Good," said Kridge. He lightly slapped the rating's face. "I'm glad we understand each other."