"I believe you," I found myself saying, and I knew it was the truth. Granted, I don't know that I would have stopped if I thought she was telling me what I wanted to hear. Men and women did that to one another more times than the number of stars. But in my heart I knew she meant it. Even all these years later, through the complications our relationship brought and the horror we faced, I don't regret a thing. To this day, she is my most treasured companion and confidant.

We danced like our minds were linked, feet flowing from one step to the other mere inches apart. It wasn't the festive and energetic dance of the night on the Caledonia, nor was it the practiced and methodical ballroom style of the banquet. It was something more slow and intimate. A dance for lovers and secrets and rendevzous' beneath the stars. In fact, somehow we managed to ascend the three steps from the lower den to the dining area. To this day I am surprised we did not stumble on each other, as I found her eyes quite enthralling and hardly glanced beneath her neckline.

"I'll do my best to protect you as well. Things will be as dangerous as tonight, I have no doubt of that. But we'll work together and watch each other's backs." I said. Granted, I would have done so anyway even without our bashful unspoken declaration of romance, but it sounded more solid now. I felt it more than a duty. "I just need to give you a warning. If we go down this path..." I paused for effect. "You'll occasionally have to deal with the presence of Lazarus."

She snorted, placing a hand to her nose in embarrassment. I couldn't see why, I found it endearing. I rested my forehead against hers, and she smiled that wicked smile.

"I can handle myself," she told me.

"I believe you," I said again breathlessly, half smiling, my lips all but brushing hers.

Our lips met and I felt my body melting against his. Warmth flooded my body and fluttered at my heart as his hands tightened around my back gripping me closer. The smell of him filled my nostrils, an odd combination of sweat and leather. The earlier scent of cologne was gone, overwhelmed by the sharp tang of cordite. Our tongues twined and our steps faltered. My body tingled with excited energy and...

The door banged open and Lazarus marched in clutching a handful of dataslates and a number of bundled velum documents marched in. If he noticed the fact that Hadrian had me pushed up against the couch in a passionate embrace he didn't mention anything. He crossed to the table and dumped the arm load of files onto the dining room table with a clatter. Hadrian glared daggers at the former Skitarii and gently disentangled himself from me.

"I didn't realise your warning would be needed so soon," I said a trifle tartly.

"Your patent of nobility," Lazarus said, "apparently they have laws mandating that property won in duels passes quickly. The chief Arbitor is down there after the attack on the ball."

By the Emperor, I had suspected this would happen. I knew as soon as I mentioned that heap of scrap, he would appear. I was so in the moment that I did not care, but damn I was frustrated.

"Thank you for your invaluable service, Lazarus. I will go over these documents accordingly and see to it they get a proper eye." I said with a voice that had the edge of a blade. Lazarus gave a curt 'you're welcome' and showed no sign of understanding what he was interrupting. Twenty years of knowing him, and I could never tell when he knew the proper signs of higher forms of communication like sarcasm or jokes. Sometimes he did and other times he did not, seemingly at random. I had asked Inquisitor Kronus of it once, and he informed me it was a side-effect of being put back together. It had been a miracle he had survived the warboss's wrath at all, there were going to be a few kinks in the system.

Taking up the papers, I gave it a cursory glance. The documents were made with a form of laminate, the font matched imperial patents of nobility, signed by planetary governor Adominus Phalkos and co-signed by Jacoby Bowlingcock. Even as irritated as I was, the name made me smirk. The levity was short lived, however. I still felt the flush on my cheeks. I pretended to be engrossed in the relatively simple documents so I needn't show my face.

"Miss Von Morganstern," I called. She popped up and gave me a serene look, though from my glance I could tell she looked at me with a hidden interest.

"Yes, Inquisitor?"

"How soon would you be able to contact the Lord Ignatius and have the two of us invited to his Manor?" I asked with all the command I could muster.

"Immediately, sir."

"Very good. Lazarus, patch the good Von Morganstern to the local Union Aristocracy network and see if we can hail his aide and set up a date. Preferably within a day or two. Add some legitimacy to the request, perhaps some field of study near his manor. Moldar is not unknown for its xenos ruins. I'll accompany as your companion and I shall bring a small retinue with us."

"That works out, Hadrian." Lazarus declared, tapping his fingers with a machine's speed on the keyboard of the cogitator. "Ignatius's ancestral home is located upon one of the few mountains in Galinmarkke, overlooking much of the city and a fast country where old ruins are said to remain untouched. It lies sixty eight kilometers from our approximate location, due northeast."

"Very good. With any luck, we'll find out what we need and join the council meeting a week hence. Lazarus, where is Bolskar?"

"Asleep in his room." The skitarii said, binary feedback screeching from his mouthpiece. His secondary arms rummaged within his red robes and produced a small black box, sliding it out of his cloak into my waiting hands. Lazarus looked almost apart of the computation machine he worked upon, wires of unknown import snaking out of his back and being hooked into the cogitator, likely to speed up the process of his current objective. I wasn't very learned in the techno-arcane of the mechanicus, but Lazarus always did his job.

The Next Day

"This is pre-xanthanite iconography based on the..." I stumbled, peering at the arcane text before me.

"Based on variations in straigraphic matrix," Lazarus prompted. I lay the book down and rubbed my eyes. The tech adept had been giving me a crash course in the world's xeno-archaology. Some of the material was actually interesting, but the goal of the exercise was to equip me with enough jargon that I could pass myself off as an Adept. Lazarus had secured me the marjor writings on the pre-xanthanite tombs and taken me through them in exhaustive detail. The human story was more interesting than the xenos one to my mind, the various archaeological authorities in this sub-sector seemed to hate each other with a passion only present on battlefields and in academic discourse. Bachman hated Tellus, Tellus hated Vorkosigan, Epienhiemer hated Vorkosigan, all arguing back and forth about the particulars of a civilization that had died before the Great Crusade began.

"Straigraphic matrix," I muttered, tucking the information away in my mind. It seemed unlikely I would be able to convince a real expert, but assuming I just dealt with amatuers, I could probably vomit enough buzzwords to sound credible.

"Do you think it will be a problem that my invitation is just for one?" I asked Hadrian. He snorted.

"Probably won't make him too happy, I'm sure he was looking to get the lovely Adept alone," the Inquisitor admitted. "But he can hardly complain if I properly chaperone you, not without making a scene anyway."

"And what exactly are we looking for?" I asked, my eyes scanning the dataslate one more time.

"Your studying of the xenos has a two fold application," I told her, adopting a professional air. Xenos archaeology was not my forte, but a basic understanding of the curriculum was required as an interrogator. Emmaline receiving a crash course in the subject would have happened one way or the other as my aide. Better to let her think it a unique item of study for the mission and not a boring task for her to learn because of the slim possibility she might need such knowledge someday. "Somehow the Igantius family is connected to Bahometus and this key-"

I produced a box of blessed ceramite and opened it to reveal the strange artifact from Tallarn. It seemed dead and unsuitable for anything save a token set piece. Even if one were to lack a superstitious mind unlike the more learned of the Imperium, the fact this artifact was connected to a chaos sorcerer was disturbing, and enough to classify it as daemonium artificium. I closed the box before anyone had to suffer looking at it any longer.

"It is inevitable that he will try to separate us. Let him. It will give me a chance to look around relatively unmolested, and you to try and gather what information you can from him. I advise you not to go down any path you are uncomfortable with, but getting him to talk or brag on unique hobbies or items of his private collection would be a good start. Have him show you the tour of his home. Anything you find with a language you don't recognize, any item you have never seen before, any doors he wants to remain closed. When we reconvene for dinner or any other pertinent time, report to me." I said to her, speaking clearly and deliberately so it might sink in. I motioned for Lazarus to present his addition, pulling out the ruby that had been set in the tiara and the sapphire ring that displayed holy terra. "The jewelry we have from Hostas's venue is ours, or yours. I have had Lazarus install a small locator and communicator on the ring, beneath the precious stone. Turn the gilded signet to notify me of anything or to give me an inkling of your whereabouts. I, myself, blessed the ruby and placed it on the golden thread to wear as a necklace. Any residual corruption or chaotic influence should be nullified by its presence, if only marginally."

The woman gathered the jewelry in her hands and seemed a bit perturbed. I felt for her, as much of this now rode on her shoulders, if only for the moment. I wanted to say something more intimate, but that would be for if we lived. Lazarus turned back to the cogitator and patched into the Caledonia for the next phase in preparations.

"You needn't worry, I'll be more at risk in all likelihood." I said to her, though I doubt it would help or seemed even believable. I did intend to go places Julius Ignatius was not counting on. Placing the comm to my ear, I cleared my throat as Lazarus completed the link. Static blurted into my skull for a few moments before Urien's voice came through, cutting into the feed mid sentence.

"-hatches to get underway!"

"Urien, status on the shuttle?"

"Kafk! Whvat?" He asked, having cursed surreptitiously. I sighed, wondering if they had even prepared to embark.

"The shuttle."

"Yehs, ah will be theer in a few hours to pack yoo up." He said, blessedly confirming he was on schedule. Residual static buzzed and I turned the device to redirect the frequency. That was disturbing, this almost never happened unless something was wrong with the machine or there was something on the planet that misaligned the electromagnetic energy. Briefly I considered how Moldar had been so isolated for the last few thousand years, despite all of the trade and traffic to and from the planet. Perhaps there was something about the world that kept orbital traffic and ground communication to a minimum.

"I'll have to ask you to stay on planet when we arrive. I can't risk not having transport back until we've found something."

"Ihll brig drinks!"

"Bring a weapon." I ordered, and turned the comm offline. The door to the room kicked open, and Bolskar walked in with a handful of food in packed bags and balanced plates. He smiled like a hound dog, but thankfully held the drool. I approached him and pluched a sausage off a plate, biting into it. Still hot. "Put this down and get dressed. You're coming as my squire."

"Squire?" He asked, his smile disappearing.

"I'll prep you. Just get dressed."

---

Hours laters...

Suitably refreshed, rested, and full bellied, the five-man team flew over the city towards the mountains in the distance. The noonday sun caused the white stone of Galinmarkke to gleam almost blindingly. I kept my head down and my mouth shut as we flew, drawing inward as the two barbarians spoke in their native tongue and Lazarus flew the aircraft with orders to remain in the vehicle until called. I did not want them to know we had a fifth person accompanying us, much less a former skitarii ranger. He even had his favored weapon with him. I just hoped I did not regret letting him bring it.

I wore a smart suit, with dark polyester utility pants and a lightly tan button down flagrantly unbuttoned at the neck and collarbone to appear like the carefree dandy, with a fashionable long jacket and a study belt, both with pockets and small compartments filled with a repertoire of equipment to use in tight situations. On my jacket were varying medals, some of my own making and others forged reproductions. In my hands was my force staff, of a mere walking stick of an upper class Jovian elite. In five minutes, we would arrive.

I had opted for a suit of soft leather in various shades of gray. It wasn't quite a body glove, but it seemed a good combination between the stylish and the practical. Each exposed edge was impressed with various verses of the prayer of Saint Euphratii in gold stitching. It was a common patron among academics, the woman who had documented the Crusade, the greatest expansion of human knowledge in history. The ensemble was finished off with a large floppy hat of woven fabric and a pair of jet black boots with heels that would have been a little impractical at a dig site. The jewelry Hadrian had prepared was secure. After a brief discussion we had decided that I should carry a compact snub. It was an elegant weapon, long and thin with a single powerpack that would exhaust after a half dozen shots, the kind of weapon a noblewoman might carry for personal defense. Given the unpleasantness at the ball, it seemed unlikely anyone would think twice about me taking precautions.

The flyer roared up into the mountains, the air growing cooler and the manicured agri-farms below giving way to wild forests of twisted pines. We headed up a long valley between spur like ranges with glistening caps of white snow. The Ignatius family owned vast swaths of land in the Seaward mountains, their ancestral seat high in the mountains surrounded by hundreds of miles of wilderness that formed a private hunting reserve. As we approached the top of the valley the forest thinned into manicured orchards of cherry and ploin trees. A great house stood at the peak where the two ranges met, four wings in a neo-gothic style around a central spire. The intersities of the cross were filled with complicated looking gardens of hedges and rock gardens. We called ahead on the vox and saw a guard of men in silver and sky blue armor tramp out of the main doors of the house to form an honor guard on either side of a field of crushed rock that served as a landing field. Urien goosed the throttle and brought us in at a sedate pace that was more worthy of a limosine driver than a backwater barbarian.

Ignatius himself stood on the steps as I climbed out of the flier, his long black and gold coat billowing in the reflected down draft of our lift fans. His radiant smile dimmed slightly as he saw Hadrian emerging behind me.

"Welcome Lady Von Morganstern," he called over the wind rush, "and... to you also... of course."

The wind cried out in a whistles as I stepped off the shuttle, an arrogant smile on my face. Urien and Bolskar wore the suits of courtiers and were instructed to keep their mouths shut unless spoken to directly, and Bolskar was encouraged to speak out of the two of them. They flanked Emmaline and myself, standing at attention like guardsmen. I pretended not to notice the Lord Ignatius's less than enthusiastic welcome, striding up and shaking his hand with both of mine, the little fact he had not offered a hand a mere pittance to Blasius Deckard.

"It's tremendous to be here," I said with relishing surety. "The good lady has told me vastly about you, my lord. When I heard you had invited her and her escort, I was thrilled to visit your home."

"Yes, well.." the hawkish man said, clearing his throat. He seemed to still be searching for his ability to lie about his pleasure I was here, but he spoke the words even if he did not act the part. He motioned for his honor guard to redeploy as ushers to bring us inside. "I am honored to have a Jovian Elite visit my home. Now, if you would be so kind, the wind can be quite rough in such heights."

The Lord Ignatius led us into his home, which seemed more like a complex that was built around half of the mountain. The foyer was huge and immaculate, with busts of long dead Moldarian philosophers and a picture upon the northern section of the wall that displayed Julius himself. At the front of the entrance, a handsome woman in a silver dress awaited, her smile practiced though her eyes fixed upon myself, Urien, and Bolskar as she, too, was likely not prepared for our arrival. The woman recovered far more quickly than the lord had, and gave a curtsy.

"My sister, the Lady Jezebel Ignatius," Julius introduced.

"We are honored to have you in our home." She confessed, her brown hair in glorious curls that did its best to hide the grey streaks within its folds. The two led us further in, walking down a long gallery with pictures of ancient battles and prominent members of the old family displayed, some even in expensive holo-picts. The archaic tapestries artifacts displayed, war trophies and old items of imperial stature, and the sheer livery of the carpet along with the scale of the house was staggering. It even more extravagant than anything I had yet introduced to Emmaline. In fact, it would be impressive even to certain areas of the Sol system, and I gave it my due looks of awe when I was duly galvanized.

"I must say, you have quite the extensive history of your lineage, my lord." I baited him, striding beside the man as he introduced Emmaline to what I imagined was a broken but highly prized STC. An odd device that looked vaguely like a jet turbine and a mechanical wheel of infinitite. What it could do was anyone's guess, likely including Ignatius himself. "To what do you credit your wealth, dear Julius?"

I saw he did his best not to scowl at me. He was becoming a better liar as time went on. Likely he thought I wouldn't notice regardless. He was far more mystifying in Emmaline's presence.

"Moldar's dynasty was founded by the Ignatius family." He said, a bit of pride seeping into his voice. He was an exceptionally tall man, and made a display of looking down on me. "Maximus Ignatius settled here, settling in what is today Gralinmakke and forming the first colony. His grandson became the commander of the subsector when he served with distinction in the Hironeiden Crusade. For a thousand years my family safeguarded the realm and brought it prosperity, but nothing lasts the wastes of time. Eventually we were mere Moldarian planetary governors, until two centuries ago when my ancestor Pontiphicus Ignatius was disgraced and ousted. How far we have fallen."

"You are still the second more powerful house on an impeccably beautiful planet." I reminded him, and gestured to Emmaline. "You certainly impressed the lady Von Morganstern."

Julius continued chattering to Hadrian as Jezebel fell into step beside me. She was somewhat taller than me and she had arressted her aging somewhat later than most. I wondered if that was an oversight, an accident of circumstance, or she had deliberately chosen to look older. She moved gracefully with all the assurance of a scion of the nobility.

"I suspect my brother was more interested in luring you out here than your ...friend," she said with a slight snicker. I offered a superior smile.

"With all due respect Lady Jezebel, there is nothing on this planent worth me putting myself at risk, either physical or social," I replied somewhat snootily. Jezebel smilke and lay a hand on my arm, slowing me down and allowing Hadrian and Julius to draw ahead.

"I admire a woman who knows her own worth, may I tell you something? It is a matter of pleasant fraternal confidence."

I was standing in a parlor. Artifact sat atop marble plinths, some of them suspended by suspensor fields, others wrapped in milky void shields. Jezebel was watching me with an arched eyebrow, looking at me with more respect than she had when we had met. I couldn't recall how I had gotten here and the stone in the necklace was cool against my skin.

"We don't have much time before we are missed," Jezebel said. Her accent was changed in some indefinable way. It was hard for me to track accents, I travelled so much that all Gothic kind of blended together in my mind.

"Queen Mab," I said, the words coming into my head unbidden. Jezebel smiled, very good, I doubt one in a hundred could have picked up the accent. I shrugged unable to process what was happening. Had Hadrian done something to me? I couldn't imagine it. Had Jezebel? Clearly but she couldn't have messed with my mind without me noticing the psionic residues. I felt very cold, I knew I was in danger.

"Is your minder with the Inquisition?" she asked so bluntly I nearly stumbled. I shook my head.

"Will it cause problems if I have him killed?" she pressed. My mind whirled in freeform, drawing loops that connected to nothing. Lacking any other option I fell back on my familiar instincts and told the first lie I could think of.

"Yes. He is a senior operative with the Adeptus Arbities, if he dies they will come looking for you, I didn't know what I was walking into," I temporized. Jezebel nodded as though that all made sense. I brought my heart rate down under control, a scam was something I could run, even if I didn't understand what was happening.

"You have come about the Account?" she asked. I nodded again, feeling the metaphorical quicksand growing deeper. She lead me over to one of the plinths. A piece of metal the size of a dinner plate sat atop it on a piece of red velvet. It was shiny and chrome and carved with the same strange runes I had seen on the artifact Hadrian had shown me. I glanced over it reading only gibberish. I pretended to read it. Jezebel was obviously waiting for me to say something but I studied it for a long minute. Inwardly I steeled myself.

"I take it you are missing the Key?" I asked. Her eyes widened slightly.

"By the warp you can read it? You really are an Adept then?" she asked.

"Just a dabbler," I replied with more truth and modesty than she could have imagined.

Later that evening, after being escorted about the house and its surrounding lands, as well as being given a quick look at our guest quarters, we were humbly invited to dinner. Urien and Bolskar had been left out and given food within the central room of our quarters, and I had the feeling they wanted me gone as well. However, Julius and his sister seemed less bemused at my presence when we entered the dining hall. I had some inkling of other guests on the ground, and it was very much a lesser get-together than the Grand Banquet Hall the other night, but it was still more populated than I had expected.

Around a dozen business partners of the Lord Ignatius, along with close to ten cousins, uncles, aunts, and perhaps even a son or two were present with their trusted aides. Not to mention the cadre of servants hustling past those that entered to be seated and talk. Six tables had been arrayed within the hall, the heaters above rumbling to regulate the temperature from the cold mountain air. In the distance, there was thunder, and muted flashes in the window promised of rain. The dinner was a type of roast bird, succulently prepared with half a dozen sauces and varying fruits bio-organically bred to be sweet as nectar. The drink was not amasec, but something a bit more fruity and local, though not lacking in strength.

Emmaline and I had been invited to the head table, though she had the honor of sitting beside the Lord himself. I was across the table, finding myself beside a fat but almost humorously droll banker of some repute. To this day I can't recall his name, but we spoke at length about old histories of the Segmentum Tempestus, obviously styling himself as an amateur historian. He had a very Caietanusian view of the last handful of millennia, likely having just read his more famous work, Scions of the Impenetrable Stars. It is a volume of three thousand pages, but in brief, it speaks of humanity's ability to take the fallen empires of the xenos, purge their greatest strengths and redirect it into the imperium as true successors, crediting our expansion into Tempestus because of the tools we could utilize from other segmentums. In the theorums, they believe the emperor was never a man, but an agent of a long forgotten species of near-humans super beings who seeded mankind to uplift it.

A heretical theory, of course. Caietanus had been exiled for his pagan thoughts, and would have been outright killed if not for his staunch belief in the emperor's divinity. It was required reading for my peers to know just how not to attribute the success of humanity. I had to write a dissertation on the subject. I felt I knew I would kill this man, but at the moment I played my part. Perhaps he did not know of Caietanus' downfall and merely wished to impress a guest, I thought. Kronus would have called me soft, and perhaps I was.

As the evening wore on and our bellies were filled, I placed my third Moldarian drink down, satisfied and at my limit of alcohol before I knew I would lose an edge in matters. I had only spoken thrice to Emmaline, calling across the table to pipe into one of her conversations with the Ignatius family. She and I had been introduced to varying members of the clan as they came to the table, curious on the unexpected guests. It was after meeting the forth cousin that I stood up and bid the banker goodnight, striding over to the head of the table and interrupting Julius who was in the middle of a bewildering tale of a haunted planet called Danubis. I suspect I made my entrance just as he was getting to 'the good part.'

"My lady, I am quite tired after filling my belly so ravenously. Would you walk with me or shall I go find rest alone?" I asked Emmaline, offering her a hand. If she were to take it, we would talk, and if not, we would go about our duties as planned. I wanted to give her an out in case she felt in over her head. And admittedly, the longer I pondered it, the more uncomfortable I was becoming over her 'role.' If she refused me, at least my guilt would lessen.

I stood and took his hand. I felt a hint of irritation from Julius but ignored it. We stood and headed out into the gardens, passing through the impressive marble arches and out onto the lawns. We spoke for a few minutes about architecture and history, that is to say, Hadrian talked, I simply didn't know enough to contribute beyond a few appropriate noises. There was no doubt we were still in range of any number of vox sniffers and cameras but that couldn't be helped. We wove our way through one of the hedge mazes.

"It's not technically a maze," I said, for want of being able to contribute something.

"Hmmm," Hadrian enquired, pausing to look at the foliage around us.

"It's a labaryinth," I explained, "there is only a single path to the center. So long as we walk it we will arrive there." Hadrian nodded and I got the impression he was thinking beyond a simple feature of landscaping. I paused, laying a hand on his arm. He turned to face me and I leaned in close and pressed our lips together. Hadrian responded to the kiss, first hesitantly and then with more enthusiasim. I wrapped my arms around him and drew him downwards until we lay on the stoney path between the hedgerows. Then I used my psy. It was an old trick, maybe the oldest I knew and I could manage it with the merest flick of my will. If there were an alpha level psyker in the house they would have heard it, but if the enemy had an alpha level mind in there we were already sunk.

We stood in a wavy reflection of the of the chamber Jezebel had taken me to. The objects themselves were clear as I was expending more energy to focus on them.

"Jezebel at least is part of what is going on here," I thought\said. I hesitated for a moment. I didn't know how Hadrian might react to what I was going to say.

"For some reason Jezebel seems to think I am on her side, perhaps an agent of offworld associates," I told him, rushing a bit over an uncomfortable admission.

"I have no idea why, but I played along," I told him, pointing to artifact she had called the Account. It was rendered in almost exact precision, down to the way the light had fallen on the reflective material. Our imagined overhead lights changed to reflect what I had seen in the tablet.

"I told her they were missing a key, she got very interested and I told her I was looking for it, nothing more. She suspected you of being from the Ordos, I told her you were a Navy officer who had been tapped by the Arbites so she wouldn't kill you," I rushed along, conveying as much as I could in our brief mental link.

I went through a myriad of emotions during our embrace. When on the job I tend to be as single-minded as a hound, and her kiss took me off guard. It was a surprising albeit pleasant experience, and after a few moments as we sank to the ground, I vaguely had the inkling this was a front for something, though I suspect we both enjoyed it regardless. However, when her thoughts coursed through my mind, I fumbled a bit and nearly pushed her off of me. I didn't have the mind to consider what she said for a brief few moments, and the contrast between the intimate embrace and heretical business threw me for a moment. I had to remind myself that she would not be telling me this if she was as she claimed to them, and relaxed, my anxieties draining for the moment. I could tell she was nervous, as well.

Interesting, I thought before her. I'm unsure as to why they would assume that of you, but telling me was the right thing to do. Perhaps we can use this, if you don't mind a little more subterfuge.

Urien and Bolskar would be getting antsy soon, and eyes were everywhere. I needed to gather my thoughts, and did so with the will I could still muster.

In an hour, I'm going down into the locked gate we saw mid-afternoon, I remarked, referring to one of the doors that Julius had tried to usher us past quickly. It was at the base of the house, and I bet it fed into the mountain's core. If you could distract them for a time, I could get some answers. The Ignatius house is the seat of some conspiracy, but if I called in support and exposed myself, the rats would flee. We can finish this tonight, if you wouldn't mind humoring me a bit more.

Gently I pushed myself up, smelling the night air. I knew I was about to delve into something dangerous, and one always had a strange appreciation for things before the plunge. The scent of the ferns, the crispness of the mountain breeze. As Emmaline began to get to her feet, I pulled her down and kissed her again, more deeply than before. There was a lot to the kiss, and this time I suspect I surprised her.

What was that? She asked whimsically.

In case things go south, I told her. I had no idea just how true that was.

We retreated to our luxurious appartments shortly after we returned from the gardens. We got a few glances from the guards, knowing smiles and concealed grins. The rooms themselves were as palatial as the rest of the the building, a broad foyer flanked by servants quaters, then a parlor ahead of a pair of rooms the size of the master bedroom at the Hotel Imperial. The whole place was tiled with white marble veined with a pleasant green inclusion that matched the jade fitings of the furniture of antique wood. The parlor even had a small library, crammed with tomes on xenoarchaeology, sector history and a few works of Imperial philosophy. Emmaline wondered if the lack of any devotional work or hagiography, a normal inclusion in such a bibliography, was deliberate.

Urien and Bolskar were sitting in the foyer when we arrived, heavy swords across their laps as they tossed tarot cards to the floor where a pile of coins, jewels and other odds and ends were gathered. They cried out in triumph and despair according to some rules Emmaline didn't follow. I went into my room and stripped off my expensive, somewhat grass stained clothing. I splashed myself with water and then pulled on a a shift of diaphonous slightly green silk. It was almost translucent and seemed to settle around me as though secured by some kind of static charge. I examined myself in the mirror and then headed for Hadrian's room, a slight grin on my lips.

When Emmaline stepped in, she had nearly caught me in a state of undress. I had just slid my trousers on, and she just saw a glimpse of my hardened abdomen as I slid on my dark dress shirt. I rolled the sleeves up stylishly, looking in the mirror as I fixed my collar. I knew she was in the room, but I didn't focus on her until I saw the woman in the mirror. Immediately my heart skipped a beat and I wondered how she was always so immaculate looking. She was smiling, and I couldn't help but return with one of my own.

I turned and walked up to her, holding my arms out for her to examine. My clothing was dark in order to keep a low profile, but it handsomely fit my form and looked fashionable enough to keep anyone from thinking I was doing something other than taking a casual stroll.

"Very handsome," she said as she smoothed one of my sleeves and tugged at my collar. I was about to speak before she pulled me down for a hungry kiss. It made me not want to leave.

"With that seal of approval, I believe I'll take my chances," I said, and we held each other's gazes for a few seconds longer than mere comrades would before I pulled myself away and stepped out into the central room. The two barbarians were in the midst of their game, but Urien had known me long enough to know the various ways I carried myself. He granted me a salute and I returned the gesture before walking out into the corridors of the Ignatius manor.

The house was large, but I had a fine memory and retraced our steps from the tour we had been given just a few hours ago. I passed by two dinner guests and made pleasantries as they each made their way back to their respective rooms, and gave a greeting to one of the servants, but as I descended stairs, the rooms were less filled with light. Some were entirely dark whilst others were dimmed, though the foyer and main halls were likely perpetually lit. I felt it in the air and grew more cautious, finally finding my way back to the hall where I knew the door lay. As I approached it, I heard a voice behind me tell me to stop. I turned and saw one of Julius's militiamen eyeing me curiously.

"What do you do here, my lord?" He asked.

"Oh, I'm just a curious sort. I figured there was a gaming room down here. I'm a betting man, you see." I said shamelessly. He did not seem convinced.

"Sir, the upstairs is for guests or those who are about to leave."

"You did not see me," I said to him firmly, using my will. His face crumpled up as his mind was twisted into my point of view, and he nodded in agreement. He turned around and walked away. I reverted my gaze back to the door until I heard a bland 'I didn't see him,' from his mouth and whipped around to see another man in uniform step into the hall, looking between his comrade and myself.

This man was smarter. He would not say anything to me without his weapon out. I didn't let him get that far. As his posture shifted, I lunged at him. He reached for his gun and pulled it clear of his holster, but he never got a shot off. I pushed against his hand that went for the gun with my offhand as I used my left hand to chop him in his exposed neck. The man's eyes popped out like he was thrown into the void of space, and with a quick tug at his shirt, he sent his head down to crack into the hallway table, knocking him out cold. With Emmaline and the two feral worlders backing me up, if he remembered what happened to him, my alibi should be sufficient, at least at face value. The Lord and Lady admittedly knew I wasn't to be trusted.

I searched the militia's pockets, finding a half empty bottle of amasec. I popped the top and poured the rest out in a potted plant before placing the empty bottle in his hand as added insurance. With that done, I could proceed.

I picked the lock on the door swiftly, opening the small gateway to show a long stairway descending down a hall of stone. I looked behind me, and then moved downwards cautiously. The air smelled somewhat dank, but not wholly unfresh. The stairway was used often enough, it seemed. No lights above me, the only source was at the bottom. I wanted to draw my pistol, having left my staff with Urien and my sword with Lazarus, but no. I needed to be as discreet as possible. Once I reached the bottom, I swiftly changed my opinion.

To many it would have the look of a storage facility, a wide hall with varying industrial rooms with no doors to close between areas. Boxes of unknown contents, likely items the Ignatius family shipped filled at least four of the relatively spacious rooms. The building had the feeling of being just the tip of its potential area, the corridor ending in large doors that were built for a hangar or a high end warehouse facility. As I made my way further in, every opening had a marking on the wall spread in blood. The same terrible marking I had found on that heretic on Tallarn. I curled my lip in disgust, and nearly stumbled into the planning room. I would have if Ignatius hadn't spoken up.

"-will have it before the week is out." He said. "There's little to worry about. Even the Imperial Navy couldn't halt us now."

The next voice was a voice that was filled with malice and unreal power. I had heard it before as well. Every word was a promise. Every pause was a weight you would hold forever. I had never heard such hatred from anything save a true daemon.

"There will be no paltry navy. Tzeentch has shown me the true ending of these matters. The key will find us as I have told you, Julius," Bahometus said. I could barely keep my rage from taking over. Bahometus had not killed my mentor, but without him, Hykophan would never have been there to pull that trigger. It was all the sorcerer's plot.

"How fortuitous it is, then, that we have found a few peculiars to-"

I stepped out into the doorway, my gun aimed at the two. Tall Ignatius and Bahometus swathed in robes of purple felcloth, feathers, and what I imagined human skin stood over a hologram of the Segmentun Tempestus, Moldar on display with red highlights around the ring-like city walls across the beautiful world. I didn't speak, instead shooting the power supply to the hologram. It sputtered to nothing. Ignatius seemed surprised, but he quickly took stock of himself. Bahometus was unreadable behind his warp-spawn mask.

"Officer, how nice of you to join us," Julius said theatrically. He looked at me with his usual arrogance, but when his companion did nothing to me, he glanced at Bahometus.

"This one has more than bullets to use," The sorcerer warned. I smiled ruefully.

"Holding heretical meetings at your place of residence, Ignatius. How stupid can one be?" I asked him, no humor in my voice. My eyes held death.

"Speak for yourself, officer. I knew young men often have a weakness for a pair of tits, but you did not catch me as the type of man to be blinded by a woman, as delectacle as yours is. She isn't what you seem to think."

I grinned, about to tell him she wasn't what he believed either. But instead, I felt an intense flash of pain, and darkness took me. Vaguely I was aware of falling, and it wasnt until later I realized I had been knocked out for several hours. I had a few more bruises when I woke up, and during interrogation days later I was informed I had awoken briefly as they were moving me and I managed to break a leg and dislocate an arm before I was beaten into submission.

---

I was aware or shackles on my hands, my arms feeling pulled into aching tautness and my body felt wholly unwell. Slowly my eyes adjusted to the light of the room, a very large room that held a strange device in the center. A device that looked partway between an energy pylon and a plasma generator, and something else that felt wholly alien. Next to me, I was chained with Urien and Bolskar, both looking worse for wear and bruised.

"Ah, you're finally awake, along with these thieves here," I heard. Standing before me were various people, including Bahometus and Julius along with his sister. I looked around for Emmaline...

They missed me by the merest fleeting chance. I hadn’t gone to sleep after Hadrian left of course, how could I, rather I paced the apartments growing increasingly irritated. Despite Hadrian’s attempts to explain I felt I still didn’t completely understand what was going on. Jezebel’s apparent confidence with me made no sense other than those found in the trashiest of romance literature. Did I have a doppelganger out there? A twin sister who was known to this cult and whom it made sense to show up at this place and at this time? Vanishingly unlikely, and what of the words Jezebel had said? ‘A matter of the most pleasant fraternal confidence’? It seemed nonsense, so bland as to be absolutely meaningless, yet it worried at the back of my mind like the memory of a lost tooth. I was out on the balcony pondering it when I heard the doors burst open, followed by the shouts of Urien and Bolskar and the distinctive sound of shock battens arcing up. I had only a minute to act so I jumped up onto the balustrade and then heaved myself up behind the gargoyle that glowered over the portal, scratching and soiling my hands as I did so. I had just had time to conceal myself when two guards, these ones dressed in matte black carapace armor rather than the gaudy house dress up, burst out onto the balcony. Long cold stab light beams pierced out into the darkness, sweeping down over the balustrade.

“Not here,” one of them said into what I presumed was a comm.

“Yes sir, we will secure the room,” the soldier said and they both turned and went back inside, closing and locking the door as they went. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. What to do now. Urien and Bolskar were captured or dead. Hadrian was captured or dead. I was the only one left free and I had no idea what I should do or what I was supposed to do. It wasn’t as if Hadrian had given me the Inquisition’s vox code so I could call for help. Well if I couldn’t call for help id just have to go get it. I climbed down to the balcony and found the door locked. By the play of a stab light at least one guard was still inside. I knocked on the glass with my knuckle and then climbed up onto the railing and lowered myself down so I hung as though clinging on for dear life. The door flew open and the guard came out with his stun batton lowered. He saw me and hesitated. For a moment I was afraid Id misjudged and he was going to stun me and drop my body, but instead he cursed, sheathed the weapon and grabbed me by the forearms, hauling me up. I grabbed his head and pulled it to mine locking my lips with his. His eyes widened in shock as my psy bored into him. I was at my strongest when I was in physical contact and he was totally unprepared for it.

Serve. I projected. Obey. Protect. He jerked me up over the rail and caught me lowering me gently with his eyes puppy wide.



“Mistress…” he managed the desire to be given an order so strong it enabled him to speak.

“Take me to the hanger by the most secretive route you know,” I ordered. It took us nearly twenty minutes to reach the hangar by back corridors and servant passages. Periodically my new servant, Calec was his name, reported in that he was guarding the suite and nothing was a miss. It wasn’t till we reached the hangar, a large ferrocrete bunker that held a number of air cars and some other luxury fliers that my plan hit its first snag. A half dozen guards stood around the opening cradling las carbines and ornate but functional looking auto guns.

“Mistress?” Calec asked. I knitted my brows in thought.



The guards whirled at the sound of one of the light aircraft powering up. As one they spun and lifted weapons, screaming orders to stop at the top of their lungs. The flier began to roll across the floor, its big turbo fans winding up to a scream. As one the guards opened fire, coherent light and slugs smashing across the nose cone and windshield of the sleek machine, crazing the plex. It continued to accelerate despite their best efforts, driving forward and scattering them like pins. The powerful turbo jets caught one man in the backwash lifting him up and smashing him against a wall so hard his carapace cracked. The others kept firing, several rounds peppered the engines and intakes and with a percussive whoosh the right engine flamed and caught. The machine staggered forward regardless, the roar so loud it hurt the ears. Thick smoke billowed back from the flier as it lifted drunkenly into the sky, wobbling free of the earth like a stunned bull. From the far edge of the property there was a great jet of flame and a ball of fire rose on a smoke trail to intersect the vehicle. The missile took off the functioning engine and most of the tail section in a cataclysmic blast and dropped the burning jet to the ground. It exploded in a spray of burning promethium and aviation lubricants, its speed turning the fireball over a half dozen times before the wreck smashed into the tree line with a final thunderous explosion.

The room had an odd crispness to the air, and it made me feel as if I were aboard a starship. The heliox was pronounced, and strangely I felt whatever was causing the air to have such artificial quality could oxidize or be manipulated in ways to expunge all life in the vicinity. My theory was based upon the fact I found myself in a room of unmistakably xenos quality. The walls of this vast archaic chamber looked to be made of some dark adamantium-like metal, with vents of energy pulsating every handful of heartbeats. More modern, likely fluorescent light had been installed above via steel pipes that had been set up by the hands of Ignatius' workers. Men in enclosed suits of white seemed to be congregating at the central mechanism that pulsated as the walls did, though with a greater brightness and volume. I found I couldn't look away with ease, it's dimensions derelict and uncannily wrong to the sensibilities.

"Did you hear me, filth?" Julius asked, and I barely had time to give him my due attention before he slapped me across the face with considerable force. The sting actually helped to awaken my receptivity to our current predicament. I still didn't speak, letting the pain fade to nothingness. Urien cursed in his tongue, but otherwise said naught at all. It wouldn't serve us to try anything at the current moment. My only hope was in Emmaline and Lazarus, who were thankfully missing from the congregation of prisoners. Julius grabbed my hair and pulled my face up to look at him.

I simply gave him a look that promised death. He did not take it seriously, dropping my head again.

"What a pity, Blasius. Or shall I refer to you as Hadrian? I do like being more casual with my guests."

At that I did look up. Julius sneered at me, grinning like a terran shark. I wondered how exactly he knew, and whether or not that would matter at this point. Of course, he could have known I was Hadrian Drakos the entire time, but that wasn't likely. Emmaline was another option, but if she were in on it, she would be here laughing with the rest of them. As it was, I felt it likely did not matter. Still, it had the desired goal of getting me to speak.

"Even when I'm in chains, you're insecure. You're a pawn Ignatius. A lackey to this man beside you, scraping at his feet as he in turn scrapes to the abominable, cowardly things he calls gods." I said. His ire was as predictable as gravity, but before I was struck again, he calmed somewhat. He likely thought I was trying to get a rise out of him. Perhaps that was a secondary objective, granted.

"You know nothing of our pact, or what we are doing here, fool. If you had, you never would have come here. By week's end, no one will be safe." He said. His sister smiled horrifically. Bahometus stood silent, his staff idly coalescing energies languidly as if he were bored. His red eyes ever on me, and as I regarded him, he tilted his head in a bestial fashion. Had I not seen him thrice before, it might have struck me as odd.

"What can a third rate house and a thrice defeated sorcerer do under a mountain?" I asked, making it known how unimpressed I truly was. The Ignatius family, including a few of his extended family who watched behind them, looked about ready to tear me limb from limb at my lack of respect.

Bahometus chuckled, finally showing a hint of being aware of the conversation. "You needn't play these games to sate your curiosity, Inquisitor. We have nothing to hide from you." He relished, his daemon mask shaking lightly from what I imagined were the movements of his cheekbones. The mask itself breathed as if it were alive. Ignatius looked at him aghast when he said Inquisitor, and it appeared he had neglected to tell his business partner of such information. He lifted a clawed hand to indicate the alien contraption that throbbed with energy and reached the ceiling in the center of the room. "What you see before you is an engine of terraforming by a strange race that were old before your God Emperor was even born. No doubt you see the symbols you recognize."

I peered at the mechanism, and after a few moments I realized he was right. Arcane symbols that looked wholly unnatural were etched onto its metal skin, including the symbol of tzeentch I had seen on the walls and various heretics. As I studied the symbols, a shrill beeping went off. Julius Ignatius pulled out his comm, clearly not in a patient mood and asked what was happening. He began to speak hurriedly, and then sent his sister off in a hushed tone. I smirked, though I did not know exactly what was happening.

"I take it you've heard of the Eye of Terror, Inquisitor." Julius pipped in, giving a smile that was as self satisfied as it was malevolent. He turned moods quickly. "My colleague and I felt another would do the Segmentum Tempestus good. It would certainly light up the mood of this dreadful backwater."

"A single machine with your magics can do that?" I chuckled, my effete nature giving way to more base insults. "You'll have an easier time making me believe your family used to be worth anything beyond wiping my ass."

Bahometus held Julius back with a gesture of his hand, and he stepped forward. "I don't care whether you believe it or not. But did you not notice the view from orbit? Where are we right now, exactly?" He asked, letting me mull it over. "Are we at the center of some great circle? Would it be strange if there were more devices like this, and is it not idealic for such circles to be the basis of incantations?... I wonder why Moldar was made with such a strange design, unlike any other Imperial world. Ring cities are quite an oddity, Inquisitor Drakos. It was almost as if the ruins were left to be built upon..."

As the horrifying implications ran through my mind, the chains around my wrists were unclasped by militia but kept chained together as workable handcuffs. Urien and Bolskar had the same treatment, and we were led from the alien room into another corridor. The archway was made of the strange material, but the hall was more imperial, which was a definition that disgusted me. Nothing was imperial about this heretical place. I loathed the ruinous room with xenos tech, but when I found myself and my comrades being dragged into a large arena filled with lights and voices, I found I would much rather go back to try and figure out how to stop this thing.

The crowd was full of Ignatius household staff and opulently seated guests, as well as a few men and women I recognized from the Banquet Hall. Fittingly enough, I spotted the unrepentant Jacoby Bowlingcock in the crowd, smiling at me ferociously. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

As it was, there were two cages made of decidedly thin steel bars that Urien and Bolskar were placed in at gun point. Urien had to be hit with the butt of a rifle, but he complied at my nod. The thugs escorted me to the center of the ring, and a small compartment on the dirt laden floor opened up and lifted a small rise. To my surprise, on the small top was a pallasch sword, the likes of which I had dueled Jacoby Bowlingcock with. The guard gestured I take it, and I did not see why not. As soon as my hand enclosed around the hilt, all guns were trained on me lest I try anything. I did not, and so as the moments passed, they retreated out of the ring and let me stand there with the sword in my hand, wondering what dread they had in store for me. I did not give them the satisfaction of fear, and instead saluted my two comrades with the blade. Behind me, I heard a small lift activating.

I turned, and watched the entrance for whatever horror lay within.

At first, there was no sight of the adversary. But instead, I found the darkness had begun to move. I blinked, only to realize the darkness had transformed into a humanoid shape, and it stepped out into the light in all of its xenos repugnance. Standing there was what could perhaps pass as a human were my eyesight poor. A very tall, lithe figure garbed in black, with a face of pure malice and knife ears protruding from its greasy locks of hair. It breathed in, and I could see fangs in its maw. I blinked again, and I found it had moved two meters to my right. That alone showed me the danger I was in. I recognized the monster from the holo-discs I had been forced to study in my days as an interrogator.

An Aeldari, more specifically a Dark Eldar. Masters of torture. It waited patiently as a small opening appeared beside it as well, and up lifted a little top with it's own weapon. A serrated blade of black steel. I watched it close its hand around the hilt, and give a practice swing. I could barely see the movement, and I had focused on it with all my concentration. It turned to look at me, moving with a grace I could not hope to match in three hundred years.

I was not going to make it out of this alive. And it would be slow.

It took a surprisingly short time for the hub hub to die down. I hid in the back of one of the speeders, hoping that they might think that I was dead. It would, I hoped, be hard to verify who the driver of the flier had been, so badly had the wreck burned. For a long while I didn’t know what to do. It had just been graphically demonstrated to me that attempting to fly out was not a viable option. I knew that I couldn’t just abandon Hadrian, but that knowledge didn’t furnish me with any actionable plan. I lay back against the upholstery and tried to think but nothing concrete came to me. I was still thinking when four of the guards left the hangar. By their excited chatter I could tell it wasn’t just a change of shift. I followed them, staying in ear shot of their excited chatter. I heard something about sport but nothing I could make out. We moved back to the main house and into another wing, me skulking along behind hoping they lead me somewhere useful.

I heard it before we got there. Take it from me that the sound of a blood thristy mob cheering for death has a unique timbre to it. The guards went into the auditorium and closed the door behind them. I wasn’t sure I could safely follow. Simply walking through the door seemed like a recipe for disaster. I edged up to it anyway and peered through the narrow gap between the door and the jam. I swore at the narrow slit of vision I was granted. Fortunately all eyes were on the spectacle below so I took a deep breath and pushed the door open, slipping inside and taking a seat beside a couple of servants. They didn’t even glance at her. Hadrian was in the pit below, circling with a… well it looked like a man, but it was too thin and too tall. It seemed like its features should be handsome, beyond beautiful, but somehow it managed to be repellant. Like a sculpture made of pieces by a half dozen master artists whose pieces didn’t quite add up. It was unnaturally fast, a fluid blurr that lunged across at Hadrian. He managed to dodge aside and took a swipe at the thing but it was already out of reach. It was clearly playing with the Inquisitor, much to the crowds delight. Emmaline noticed that it wore manacles at its wrists and ankles. Was this creature a prisoner here too? That hardly made it an ally, but it was clear that if she didn’t do something soon Hadrian would be dead. She did the only thing she could. She reached out with her psy and snared the minds of four of the servants. It was easy. There was so much hate and bloodlust in the air. They all screamed in rage and leaped into the pit, landing awkwardly on the arena floor. The creature turned and casually shattered the throat of the nearest servant, dropping the man to the floor as blood sprayed from his face. I saw heads turn to regard me from the seats of honor. Someone up there had noticed what I had done.

“Frak,” I said and grabbed the pistol from the holster of a guard who was cheering hoarsely. I pointed it at him and pulled the trigger. The gun roared and he staggered backwards, clutching his chest. I turned and fired more or less randomly in the direction of the booth. I reached out again and whipped the nearby crowd into a frenzy. One woman leaped on another and sank her teeth into her neck. A guard casually stove in the head of another man with the but of his rifle. Chaos erupted.

Our blades met in a flash of sparks, and a bead of blood trickled down my neck from a move I had not even comprehended. This seemed wholly unreal, but I knew better than that. Perhaps with the right augmentations and two hundred years more experience, I might have been able to defeat this xenos scum, no question. But as it was, he was tens of millions of years more evolved in such things than I. It was a small relief to my pride when I sidestepped and swung at the Dark Eldar in a way it didn't expect, and instead of taking off a finger it was forced to retreat for the length of an eye blink. I knew it would come in again and repay me for the slight a hundred fold, but at that moment, Emmaline Von Morganstern saved my life and the Segmentum Tempestus.

I did not know it was her doing at first, but after the spray of arterial blood and the crowd acting in a way I did not expect even chaos cultists to perform, I knew it was her. I smiled, glad she had made it out ok, and had the moral fiber to come back. If I had any doubts of my judgement regarding her and my romantic feelings earlier, they had been expunged now. As it was, I backstepped, letting the Dark Eldar perform what it needed to in order to survive on the hapless servants of Ignatius. Instead, I ran to the steel bars that held my compatriots. I knew I would ruin the sword, but without the proper tools I couldn't pick the locks, and rent the old iron locks with my sword, breaking the blade in the process.

Men ran to intercept us and get control of the crowd. Ignatius Militia with lasguns jogged in fine order across the stadium's seats, pushing aside fighting aristocrats as six of them ran to what I guessed was the southern edge of the arena, five meters above us but at the lowest section of the seats, and as one they aimed at the three of us. I felt my life leave my body, it seemed, but I imagined it of course. Instead of my own death, I heard the whine of something familiar. I never thought I would be happy to see Lazarus utilizing his favorite armament, but in a brief flash of brilliance, the firing squad was obliterated to a man, and around a dozen frenzied men and women beside them were killed by the Transuranic Arquebus. I looked over to the source of the blast and saw my oldest friend clad rise from the bustle of bodies. Tossing aside his red cloak, he threw two spare autoguns to me. I caught them both, giving Urien one. Bolskar deigned to pick up a fallen lasgun from the dead milita, and together we climbed atop the cages and pulled ourselves up above the lip of the railing.

"Quite the party, Inquisitor." Lazarus said, clasping my hand in greeting.

"Laz, you and Urien need to go down that hall-" I pointed at the corridor we entered the arena from. "And you need to shut down the reactor. Emperor save me, if you argue to retain the tech for any reason I'll-"

"Ok! Yes, we'll destroy it." Lazarus remarked, bewildered. "You might want to thank me, at least..."

"If you cannot shut it down manually, use your rifle. But it cannot be allowed to go off. Kill anyone in your way. Now, both of you! Go!"

The two teams split up, Bolskar and I wading into the chaotic mess of bodies, biting and kicking and punching. Many of them like as not were not under the influence Emmaline had cast, and were now too engorged on their own self preservation to stop. Up the right stairwell I saw a militiaman spot us, and he fired a shot at me that scorched into the back of a woman, dropping her. I returned fire, my second slug punching into his sternum. Bolskar shot another from afar, but was grabbed from behind by a man who had lost his gun in the panic. Young and untested, Bolskar was still a feral-worlder. He shouldered the man back, hitting his jaw with his elbow and began to beat him to death with the lasgun. I was lucky I took the moment to watch him. At the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar figure in garments I couldn't mistake.

"Ignatius!" I roared across the din. The patriarch of the house stopped at the doorway of one of the snake-like corridors and gave me a look of pure contempt, before disappearing into it like the villain he was. I ran after him, calling over my shoulder to Bolskar. "Find Emmaline and protect her!"

After traversing the maelstrom, producing two more dead militiamen and a third with a broken nose from the butt of my gun, and I stumbled into the corridor. Lights flickered with the predictability of the warp, casting shadows and illumination in random tandem. As I ran, my feet hit water. Puddles formed and the ground began to shudder, almost imperceptibly. I could only guess it was from Lazarus's efforts with the xenos tech. I hit the wall and pushed off to rush down the turn of the tunnel, catching a glimpse of Ignatius' cloak. I fired a shot, sparks exploding from the rockcrete. Cursing at the near-miss, I continued at full speed. Julius had long legs and the wild energy of a cultist, but I was honed to the potential of my human form. I gained on him, every corner and tunnel he grew closer and closer.

It must have been over a kilometer, and as I leaped down a stone stairway in a short passage, I entered the neck of another tunnel and my vision was filled by the swinging fist of Julius Mercutio Ignatius. My gun clattered to the ground as I staggered, the dim lighting giving my attacker a ghastly appearance. His next swing struck me in the stomach, my inability to block him due to the billowing cloak covering the small vestige of light we had. But as I stepped back, cold fury took hold of me. He grabbed my shirt and launched another blow. I redirected it with a raised fist and kicked his shin with considerable force. He cried out, taking a knee involuntarily. My fist swung up from below to meet his chin. Blood splattered from his lips, and I imagined he bit his tongue. His grip slackening, I grabbed a head-full of his salt and pepper hair and slammed it against the wall with all of my appreciable strength.

That was that. He fell like a corpse, but his mumbling showed me he was still very much alive. Calmly, I walked over to pick up my gun before firing into both of his knees to ensure he would not slip out of my fingers again.

---

989M41
Planet Moldar
To Inquistor Lord Moredecai

Over the course of the next few days, there was a blur of activity I can only scant recall in great detail. The planet's vox channels were filled with news from the capital, papers scattered in the streets with Lord Ignatius' pulped face and the disgrace of the Ignatius family in bold letters. Lazarus and Urien had been successful in their endeavor to destroy the reactor, detonating it by redirecting the power flows to overflow with energy. Bolskar and Emmaline had met me and the ravaged Julius at the arena, and by the time I had made it, PDF forces had arrived at the manor. What militia left were either busy fighting for their lives or had given up this farce. The pomp had brought in two Inquisitors that had been in the regional systems, coming to collect information on who I was and what exactly I had stumbled upon. I spoke with them briefly, but invited them to the council session the end of the week.

Needless to say I was met with cries of both joy and outrage as I strode in with all my livery and my entire team with me. They quietened down when I revealed the decapitated head of a dark eldar for them to gaze upon, as well as the eldritch key Bahometus had yet to retrieve. A few of the regional lords had asked to be granted full reports and to halt my investigations to pay damages.

"My patience has limits, my lords. Unlike my authority." I told them in no uncertain terms. They were smart to answer with silence. I was pleased to see more than a few had taken to my cause once I explained the situation, mostly those who did not have direct business ties to the Ignatius family nor had to pay for any of the city's damages. To my delight, Lord Haldemir seemed my most avid supporter in the hearings, and was the first to offer his household troops in my plot to capture Bahometus.

The cur had escaped via eldritch means through a corrupted xenos gateway. Through my research and Lazarus' decryptions, we found the destination... Danubis.

Less than a week after I had taken in Julius Ignatius, the Caledonian, two corvettes, and a frigate had been requisitioned and dispatched to arrive at Danubis in three days time. At the head of the fleet, I finally felt I was coming to the conclusion of the cabal that had taken my master's life...

---

First day of the trip.

I closed my dossier, dropping the pen and exhaling broadly. My mind had been thrown into disarray now that I could do naught but wait on the ship as it traversed the warp. It had all gone according to plan, but I still felt like there was a loose end, and it had nothing to do with Bahometus. Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I closed my folder and took a quick drink of amasec. I did not often drink when working, but today was an exception. As I took my time sipping, there was a knock on the door.

"Come," I said, placing the glass down.

Emmaline walked in, and I froze when I saw she wore the black dress that first night on Moldar. I blinked, wondering what she was planning. Opening my mouth, I tried to speak, but she placed a finger to her full lips and strode over. She walked tantalizingly, and while I was vaguely aware of the purpose in her eyes, to my surprise she didn't walk around my desk, but climbed over it. I grew hot, seeing just how enticing she was on all fours, and without self preservation she fell atop me, grabbing and pinching and kissing. We fell over, the chair hitting the floor as we entangled on the grou-

There was a knock at the door, and I blinked. What? My senses returned to me, slowly.

"A dream?" I asked aloud, and groaned in annoyance. Just what I needed. I didn't answer immediately, trying to throw the images out of my head. There was another small knock.

"Come...in." I finished, clearing my throat.

I had found myself with little to do in the days after our escape from the manor. Hadrian was absorbed in the the more administrative aspects of his role which frankly was a little intimidating. It was one thing to know in the abstract that an Inquisitior had unlimited authority, it was another to watch one snap his fingers and have a trio of warships and a small army put at his disposal. Unfortunately the fact that I was officially a Throne Agent (Emperor Preserve Me) did not have the effect of causing the locals to leave me alone. Quite the oppisite in fact. Every lord, lady and officer seemed to feel I was a viable back channel to the Ordos, and that I would be in someway interested in exerting such imagined influence on their behalf. I resisted the temptation to tell them to frak off, figuring that the information might be useful to Hadrian. Mostly I figured it was the kind of minor malfeasance that was present in many Imperial houses, simple cases of guilty concionces looking for assurances before the proverbial wrath of Maccharius decended on them. They were probably right to be worried. Hadrian was focused on the Danubis angle but when I brought him my reports at dinner each night he took them gladly. I got the impression that several junior members of the Ordos, Interogators he called them, were being dispatched to supervise a planet wide audit.

The remainder of the time I spent in study. Lazarus reluctantly agreed to go over what information he had on these so called Necrons. It wasn't much to go on, mostly rumors and conjecture. It was a little disconcerting that information was so sparse. It was even more disconcerting that Lazarus believed this was because most people who encountered them didn't survive to file a report with the Administratum.

________________________________________________________________

First day of the trip

It wasn't until the first day aboard ship that I finally had a moment to myself. It seemed that the fever pitch of prepation was, if not over, at least suspended until we made Danubis orbit. I woke from pleasant dreams and lay in bed for long minutes thinking over everything that had happened to me. I rose and bathed, taking my brush and brushing my hair out until it gleamed. I wondered if I should cut it. It hardly fitted the mental image I had of an Inquisitorial agent, but maybe that was a good thing. There was still so much I didn't know about what I was supposed to do, what was expected of me. I let out a sigh having given myself a rationale for what I wanted to do anyway. Talk to Hadrian. I dressed carefully, relieved to find that the back dress I had worn to the ball. I put on the boots too but drew the line at actually wearing jewelerly. Well I almost drew the line, I did add a saphire choker that had been given to me as.... well a bribe wouldn't be too strong a word, but it looked nice and it wasn't as though I had actually done any favors.

It felt extremely strange to be traversing the utilitarian corridors of the ship in a ball grown. A few of the crew saw me but other than wide eyed lookd no one commented on it. They seemed to be somewhat in awe of me. The dance on the table had helped of course, but it seemed that some version of what had happened at the Ignatius estate had filtered through the crew. I imagine that it had probably formed the basis of a fantastic boast over the drinking horns. I wonder if I was a heroine or a damsel in distress in the story, but it hardly mattered. I reached Hadrian's door and knocked hearing his voice bidding me to enter I pressed the touchplate and the panel swung open I stepped inside to find him climbing out of bed. He froze when he saw me, eyes suddenly very wide.

"What?" I asked in confusion.

Later I would contemplate whether this was my psychic potentially flexing and growing from contstant use. How else could I have known she would walk in like that? I had to do more study on the subject. In fact it could have been Emmaline's own, more powerful will that had announced her arrival subconsiously. But as it was, my mind was not on the subject of human potential growth in psychic aspects. I found my tongue was heavy and slow to move. I wasn't very aware that the dream and my state of sleep had raised my sword quite enthusoastically. So considerable was my excitement it threatened to spear through my trousers.

Emmaline looked sexy in about anything in my eyes, but the black dress hugged her curves spectacularly, and it brought back memories of our initial kiss. We had kissed since, but something about that night had been special, and it had been unceremoniously cut short by the agents of chaos.

"N-Nothing, I..." I tried to state, but failed considerably in saving myself. I truly had been thrown for a loop by her appearance.

Once I realized the flush of my face and the salute below the belt, I abruptly turned away from her and cleared my throat. By the throne, I was embarrassed to call myself an Inquisitor at that moment. The small matter of my success saving the Segmentum was inconsequential in the light of my current predicament.

"Lieutenant Von Morganstern," I said. Not a technical rank, but any term for subordinate would do, and she had earned the title. "Forgive me for my current state. I suspect you have come for a social visit, judging by your apparel. Grant me a minute or two to dress appropriately and I can join you. Unless I am mistaken for your reason of visit?"

"Lieutenant is it?" I asked, giving him a searching look which obviously categorized both his undress and his 'attention' posture. "I should have worn something with epaulets." Without responding to his question I took a seat at the table in the center of the room and poured two glasses of amasec from the sideboard. There was a regicide game set up on the table and I picked up a piece and turned it over in my hand while he dressed. A social visit sounded a little formal to my mind but I reminded myself that I had just roused him from bed for no good reason. Maybe the first decent sleep he had had given how much was on his plate right at the moment.

"I don't know if I'd call it a social visit exactly..." I began, setting the piece down with a musical clack sound.

"This is really the only thing that I own that ... well that doesn't feel like a costume." That didn't make a tremendous amount of sense given that this dress literally was a costume but I felt some that because we had shared a real moment while I was wearing it, that it had become something more than a prop for deceptions. Clearly I was getting fuzzy being mixed up with the high and mighty.