"Emmaline," I barked, kneeling down to rip a piece of parchment off one of the dead servants, wiping away the blood ebbing from my arm before wrapping the stained cloth about my hand gripping the power sword. Clara was on her side, doing her best to sit up but clearly favoring the left side of her body. To my lover's credit, she was up and ready, blue eyes sharp as sapphire stones. I bled freely on the floor, ignoring my own predicament. There was a loud crash as the door was struck by something immense, like the gauntlet of a post-human encased in Mark IV armor.

"Yes?"

"Do you have any psychic energy left?" I asked her.

She looked almost bemused, but saw my expression was hard, and she followed suit. "Some. I can make do."

"Us it on me." I ordered.

"What?" She asked, incredulity rising in her voice. Another blow struck the reinforced door, the blow sending a screw through the air to ricochet off a pillar like a bullet, flying into the bowels of the ship.

"He will break through that door in a matter of moments." I remarked, stripping off my jacket, letting it slide through my deactivated blade to fall to the floor. My black top was ripped, but it hugged my torso like a bodyglove. I was dirty, and bleeding. "You will launch me at him with all of your power, and I will kill him." I saw her begin to protest, but I reiterated. "All your power. Even impaled and weakened, he can move too fast for normal men. I need to fly at him like a bullet."

"And you think because you struck me earlier that I wish for you to throw your life away? That I can't understand that was to keep us both alive? I'm not a child." She said. I could tell she was attempting to get me to rethink my strategy, using any means to do so. I could see she wanted to find a way for us to win without this. I loved her for that. However, now was not the time.

"No, I know you are an adult, and I trust you enough as a confidant for that to be a nonissue. I also trust you to see what I ask to be done." I told her, before turning around to face the plasteel door, readying my sword. "Now are you ready to do what I say or shall I find someone who will?"

She giggled manically, caught between her pride and her feelings, and the ridiculousness of finding another psyker at a moment's notice. "As you wish, Inquisitor Drakos." I felt the subtle emanations of the warp coalescing around my person, keeping free of my sword hand. My body grew lighter, and I bent my knees to better prepare myself as the next blow wrenched the door, the plasteel now misshapen. One more blow would do it. I made a note not to look back at Emmaline, or either of our convictions might fail. Cold, malicious laughter erupted from within the ruined room, and the sound of ceramite on plasteel erupted as the chaos astartes struck again. I saw the door fall, the hulking figure bloom into view. The final strike was like the gong to begin a race for trainees, and Emmaline did her part. Even before the plasteel slabs had hit the floor, my body was thrown like a javelin, my years of hard training and labor counting for naught at all, my flesh like so much pulp against the plasteel and ceramite I hurtled towards. My sword was activated before I even knew I did pressed the activation button, and in the span it took for Clara to blink, I was passed the astartes, my glowing sword fading into the dusty gloom with my form.

"What was that?" The Chaos marine cackled, glancing behind him, before turning back to the two women with amusement. "Did you think to kill me with a human missile?"

The word missile ended in a small gurgle, as the Chaos marine stumbled, and gasped. For the first time in millennia, he seemed confused. Idly he reached up with his arm, only for the appendage to fall off, severed, along with his left shoulder and the entirety of his collarbone. Three hundred kilos of flesh, steel, and ceramite hit the floor like an anvil, before the rest of the astartes followed moments later, topping onto the floor of the ship. The red glow of its eyes fading into nothingness as the last wheeze escaped his lips, and the only noise was the humming of the ship itself.

Clara coughed, and it was what brought Emmaline out of her trance. The aide took one step, and then ran into the room, not even looking at the chaos marine to find her Inquisitor and lover, hoping he was not paste against the wall.

Hadrian was crumpled at the back of the room his power sword fizzling as it melted the fibrous carpet that it lay upon. Coils of smoke trailed upwards and stung my nostrils, somehow overpowering the stench of dead men, food, and the actinic salt smell of the Warp. I am not a telekine by training or inclination and I lack finesse. Hadrian had been hurled down the length of the mess tables, smashed the ornate chair at the head, and shattered a wooden and plastec bar which was currently leaking alcohol from a dozen broken bottles.

Most of the officers who had been using the mess were already dead. Some we had killed during our frantic flight, others when the Chaos Marine had punched through the ceiling. A few still whimpered or cowered in corners, overwhelmed by the psychic backwash or the simple trauma of seeing the Archenemy of Mankind. They didn’t have long to suffer. Clara moved along the line, putting a las round into the brain case of each officer living or dead. I wasn’t sure if that was strategic or simply a different way of dealing with the trauma, either way I didn’t try to stop her.

“Hadrian!” I gasped leaning down and touching his forehead to feel his thready pulse. He was alive, though I suspected he had suffered a serious concussion when he had crashed into the wall. I was no medicae but I knew he was going to need medical attention and soon.

“Emma!” I turned to see Clara staring at the body of the chaos marine. The baroque armor seemed to be running as though the metal itself were molten. The golden filigree forming grotesque tendrils that reached out for the severed section like the fingers of a dying man. Where the tendrils slid over the carpet the fibers warped and changed, becoming tiny fingerlike tentacles that beat at the armor like cilia. For a horrifying moment I thought that the marine was going to knit himself back together before, with a chillingly organic shudder the tendrils went slack and the luster went out of them. I watched in abject fascination as the armor seemed to darken, not all at once but in mottling that almost seemed to form. I wrenched my eyes away from the dissolution before the warp sigils that seemed to drip from the shattered power armor could ensnare my mind. I cast a quick glance at Clara but she was already backing away and making the half aquila with the hand not holding her las carbine.

“The Emperor Protects,” she hissed fervently. I was less certain but this was hardly the time for a theological debate. Alarm claxons were hooting out in the hall way and probably throughout the entire ship and I could hear confused shouting and the thump of boots coming from somewhere.

“Clara, grab Hadrian,” I instructed then reached out with my will. The long table flexed and lifted up to the hole in the roof like a grasping hand, shedding bloodied table cloth, bodies and ruined food in a fragrant shower. A wave of weakness swept through me and the tiny carpet tentacles gave up their quest for the armor and stretched out in a vain effort to reach me. I was too tired for this, but there was no option other than to go forward. Plucking a naval revolver from the holster of one of the dead officers I clambered up the table back into the chambers which had belonged to the late an unlamented Inquisitor Vorn.

The stink of death was heavy on the air by then. Clara clambered up behind me dragging Hadrian up the improvised ramp. Vorn and his companions lay where we had left them, distinguished only by spreading pools of blood and the inhuman red footprints the departed traitor marine had left. I hurried back into what I rightly presumed was Vorn’s private quarters. It didn’t look like the lair of some great heretic. There were bookshelves, art and archeotech from several Imperial traditions, even a small shrine to Him on Earth. Not for the first time I wondered how deep Vorn’s insanity had gone. Had he really believed he was a loyal servant of the Emperor while he hosted a traitor Astartes on his ship?

“Emmaline, what is the plan?” Clara demanded as she lay Hadrian down by the door. He was murmuring to himself, though whether with any cognisance of his surroundings or merely in delirium there was no time to ascertain. I pulled a large duffle bag from a nearby couch and upended it, scattering weapons and clothing all about, then went over to Vorn’s desk and began piling the contents into the canvas sack. There were data slates, books, scrolls and even several small stone tablets marked with odd xenos derived symbols.

“We don’t have time for this,” Clara called as I finished my improvised looting.

“We will never get another chance!” I replied.

“You are both right,” a silky voice came from the door. To my horror the previously empty portal had manifested the Aldarei warrior we had encountered earlier. His head was bare but the rest of him was encased in dark glossy armor that seemed entirely composed of blades and hooks. I idly wondered how he managed to avoid getting snagged on everything he passed but the thought was banished as he raised a long thin rifle to aim at me. Clara opened up on full auto, raining las bolts on the xenos in a single extended fusilade. It moved so fast. It didn’t blur, it just seemed to phase in and out of existence. I had a confused recollection of a lasbolt striking its weapon and then a moment later it held two long knives in it’s hands. Rather belatedly I brought up my own heavy pistol and began to unload cacking out the hard rounds in the rapid crack-crack-crack of panic fire. When the hammer clicked on an empty chamber the Aldaeri was still standing there, looking for all the world as though he hadn’t just waded through a storm of gunfire.
“Now it is time to play Mon-keigh,” it purred.

“You want to play?” Clara demanded, “catch.” She threw a grenade at the creature. I saw its lips curve as it lazily reached out and plucked the bomb from the air. With a flick of it’s wrist it tossed the grenade back. Or it tried to. A look of shock came across its face as it finished the throwing gesture only to find the bomb had adhered to its jointed gauntlet. I had just enough time to comprehend that Clara had smeared demolition adhesive across the grenade before she threw it before Clara crash tackled me behind the desk. A heartbeat later there was a flash and a tremendous crump of detonation and overpressure. I rolled onto my back and popped my head up in time to see the xenos, horribly burned and blackened tearing at its armor. White smoke and little motes of fire drifted around and the chemical stink stung the back of my throat like inhaling embers. Clara slapped her last powercell into her carbine and worked the charging handle back and forth with what seemed to me like infinite effort but the Aldaeri had already vanished, fleeing blindly as hundreds of flecks of phosphorus burned into its body. I know it is an article of faith that burning Xenos always smells sweet but on this point too I will have to deviate from doctrine.

The Even Chance crashed out of the Immaterium on the back of the psychic spike that left its Navigator unconscious. The Caledonia followed it a few minutes later, trailing out of warp with its ancient engines burning at full output. Lance fire and macrocannon batteries opened up, pouring fire into the traders engines. The Even Chance returned fire, but slowly, the sudden drop from the warp had wrought havoc aboard the ship, striking many crew insensible. The problem was further compounded by the fact that we had managed to kill most of the senior officers during our frantic battle in the mess haul. So it was that an hour later the Caledonia’s boarding party was able to fight it’s way to us and pull us back to our own ship.

I regained consciousness relatively quickly onboard the Caledonia. I had thought this time, death would have surely taken me. I had seen the spectre, felt its ghaslty presence on my person. Somehow it felt familiar, as if I had come close to meeting it many times before. Something tangible but only just at the edge of my realization. My thoughts came back, not like a flood or a breathe of fresh air, but a bullet being placed in the chamber. I opened my eyes to see that I was not placed in the medicae, but I was on a small cot on the floor, with Selencia's back turned to me and Emmaline on her knees beside me, her hand holding mine. I decided I had become injured far too often as of late, but when my eyes saw my lover, I became aware that I was once again, simply glad it had not been her.

"Inquisitor," Lazarus stated in a formal greeting, but I could tell the old codger was as happy to see me as I was, him.

Selencia turned around as Emmaline blinked and looked down at my face. I could tell by her eyes there was a modicum of guilt, but our minds brushed for an instant and I bade her leave those thoughts. Instead, I attempted to sit up, only for Selencia to hold me down with a firm hand, ready to scold me. Begrudgingly, I did so, but that did not mean I would be coddled.

"Report," I said simply, some of my old strength returning.

Emmaline reverted to business quickly. "The Even Chance has been subdued. All men and women aboard are being rounded up as we speak. The Caledonia breached and boarded its stern." She said, her eyes barely flickering as she recited the words, as if she held a mental notepad in her mind. "Small pockets of resistance are still holding out aboard, but we are culling them as we speak. The men of the Caledonia have been reinforced with some of Even Chance's men who were kept in the dark, as well as Lucius."

"Clara?" I inquired.

"Better off than you." She remarked with a small smile.

I pondered the predicament. The Inquisitor Vorn was well connected. It would behoove us to retrieve any documents we might find aboard his vessel. Yet, he had summoned daemons, had entertained a heretic astartes, and had broken bread with a devious drukhari. His men were corrupted, and though there was doubtless more than a few of the lower crew that were innocent, they would have to be cordoned off and purified. I briefly ran the previous few months through my head, and felt satisfied that Vorn was the root of this ruinous cell. As Selencia placed a needle in my arm, my eyes went from Emmaline to Lazarus.

"Find what innocents of their crew that you can. But do not look for more than a few hours. Pull the men back, and sabotage the Even Chance's batteries and warp capabilities. Once we are at a safe distant, have Urien obliterate the ship with enough ordnance that their souls go screaming into the maws of their Gods they are so devoted to. I intend to be on the deck when we do."

My team did so, and Selencia did her duty. By the time the fighting had stopped, I had been granted full leave to stand, albeit with limited permission to run or turn quickly. With Lazarus's help, I made it to the Bridge of the Caledonia as Urien and the others gathered. The fuedal worlder sported a few more scars and fresh bandaged, but otherwise he was as fearsome as ever. Emmaline wore her bodyglove and jacket, her needle pistol reacquired on her person. Lucious Raj was even there, filling out a three meter wide space between the cogitators and the warp display. As I approached, he chuckled, his baritone voice shuddering beneath his visor.

"I hear you and your lady had more action than I did, Inquisitor. I had been waiting to face one of my little brothers, but you slew him before I could get there. Impressive." The Thunder Warrior confessed. "Perhaps an 'astartes' is not as formidable as I have been lead to believe."

"Unfortunately, I am certain you will eventually learn." I replied back to him. While this investigation was now over, I had no doubt in my mind that sooner rather than later, we would again be in a situation of similar dangers.

"Captain! Lance batteries and macrocannons primed!" The Master Helmsman's aide called, and Urien looked to me for confirmation. Without hesitating, I gave it. Thousands of tons of ordnance and great beams of concentrated energy cut through the crippled ship, bisecting it to split in half like a cracked walnut, and even as we watched on the holomonitor above us, it broke into further pieces, silently drifting apart into the endless void of space.

993.M42

Primary Ecchlesiarcical Court- Palace of the High Prelate - Savaven

Accession 1322997 - After Action Interrogation - Session 121

Convened under authority of Grand General Amadeo Priscus

Attendance: Ophelia Sands - Inquisitorial Legate, Prodogus Kamand - Interrogator, Mordin Riel - Interrogator, Bodkin Obain - Interrogator, Subject 122-K-A6 - Sanctioned Psyker

Subject: Emmaline Grimelhausen Teobaldina von Morganstern - Adept Delta, Accession above.



Transcript begins.

Obain: Miss von Morganstern, can you confirm for the court that you are connected to a A-26 Verity Assayer unit for the purposes of this interview.

Subject: Yes.

Obain: You realize the purpose of this unit is to determine via psychic and physiological traces that you are speaking the truth?

Subject: Yes.

Obain: Are you aware of anyway to defeat such an instrument.

Subject: Yes.

Obain: Are you employing such a technique?

Subject: No.

Obain: Would you tell us if you were?

Subject: Yes.

Remarks from Inquisitorial Legate removed from transcript

Obain: Let us proceed. Members of the inquiry have reviewed your report on the destruction of the Even Chance and the events leading up to it. Is there anything in the reports that is counterfactual?

Subject: No.

Obain: Was anything omitted from the reports which would be of relevance to you personally or professionally?

Subject: No.

Obain: And you maintain that you have surrendered all materials and documents captured aboard the Even Chance?

Subject: Yes.

Mordin : Are you aware that your single word answers might be considered obstructive.

Subject: Yes Interrogator.

Obain: Are you pursuing an inappropriate relationship with Inquisitor Hadrian Drakos?

Subject: No.

Legate: Tell us again from the beginning how...

___

We spent nearly a year on Savaven. Most people assume the life of an Inquisitor is all running around purging heretics at the point of a bolt gun. That is part of it of course, more glamorous and terrifying than months spent working through documents, prosecuting lower level members of cults, evaluating institutions, and trying to repair the damage done by more kinetic investigations. There was a lot to do. Osteen Von Mandlebrot was installed as High Prelate and Hadrian began an exhaustive review of the Church Hierarchy. The Ecclesiarchy was reluctant to allow this and fought the process at every step short of violence. We were able to recover the scrolls of compulsion and against my advice Hadrian had them destroyed. The destruction the Even Chance had wrought in the orbital anchorage would take years to repair, though the new High Prelate promised that the cathedral city would rise higher and grander than ever it had before. The bodies of those killed in the holocaust were gathered and their bones laid in great ossuary temples. Von Mandlebrot declared them the Ten Thousand Matyrs and initiated a pilgrimage program across the subsector. Doubtlessly the people felt this to be spiritually uplifting rather than dismissing it as a cynical scheme to pay for reconstruction.

Of Vorn's motives and purposes we found little. All records indicated he had been an exemplary Inquisitor, very highly regarded in certain circles. Every account of him we could find clashed violently with our own experience of his activity. A few months into our stay the Office of the Internal Prosecutions took over the case and sequestered everything we had gathered on him. I continued to pull at some of the threads but they seemed to have all been wound up. Needless to say Hadrian was suspicious but there seemed to be no avenues to continue the investigation. It sat very ill with me that despite everything so many questions remained. What had Vorn been trying to accomplish. How had he gotten in touch with the Traitor Legions? Why had they supported him? What role had the Aldarei warrior played in their scheme? All of these seemed destined to remain unanswered.

I was interrogated several times about my role in the affair. I'm not sure whether this was a result of reports Hadrian had submitted, or merely the suspicion that Internal Prosecutions inevitably holds for the unsanctioned. I gave them nothing. It is possible they knew I was concealing information but they were unable to prove it. I began an extensive survey of the libraries of Savaven, mostly pious hagiography, though there were some excellent historical works also. I made certain to vary my searches to as not to present an obvious pattern to anyone who might be looking.

It was something of a strain. Whenever an Inquisitor is revealed to have crossed a line it forces the Ordos to confront he ugly truth that those who fight Chaos are at the greatest risk of contamination by it. Internal Prosecutions had no reason to suspect Hadrian, he was a hero for exposing Vorn, but they did tend to try to bolt the door now that the grox had well and truly bolted. There was definite relief when in early 993, a few weeks after Candlemas, Hadrian declared that matters had been resolved to his satisfaction and all further work was to be devolved onto local Arbites and Ecclesiarical authority. After nearly three years chasing Vorn, we were going home.

Our time in Savaven had been full of research and unrelenting legalities, and I spent most of my time behind a desk or surveying the monumental libraries that stood bestride the palaces of the cardinals. It was mostly uneventful, save for handful of moments the various members and adepts of the ecclesiarchy tried to jealously keep certain vaults out of the hands of my retinue, but in that I brooked very little argument. Emmaline and I worked alongside one another for some months, her eye for detail impressive, though after a few hours she often found herself thinking of less professional matters or wishing to stretch her legs. When she heard Savaven did not have any icecream she groaned. I admit the distraction did help my mind relax before I redirected my focus back on the ministerial task at hand. However, four months before our completing, there had been a misshap on the bridge of the Caledonia, where Lucius Raj had broken the leg of one crewman and shattered the sternum of another, and Emmaline was tasked with ascending to keep an eye on the Thunder Warrior while I finished my work on world.

I could have called Lucius Raj down, but the ecclesiarchy would ask too many questions on the nature of him, and if they found out we had procured one of the legendary thunder warriors from a xenos cage, we would have more problems to deal with than the usual liturgical interruptions. And while I could throw my weight around, it was an inquisitor's duty to only do so for the good of the imperium, not their emotional desires. Although we did manage to obtain, or stumble upon, some scraps of information about the enigmatic warriors of old terra. It seemed they died quickly, usually for one of three reasons. Combat, of course, but also faulty organs from the less-than-safe flash cloning initiatives in their primitive creation, and thirdly, their bouts of insanity could literally tear their own muscles apart. It seemed, given luck that Raj could survive battle and be one of the more fortunate with a stable body, if we could keep his sanity in check, he could potentially live for quite a long time. And so for four months, Lazarus and I spent nearly eleven hours every day pouring over different texts and scripts, until finally I concluded we had gathered all intelligence that we could.

Finally, we could return to Pacitus.

As Lazarus, a few member's of Urien's crew, and I ascended to the Caledonia, I felt somewhat uneasy, despite my through examination. There were so many unanswered questions, I knew it would be difficult to unwind. However, I had a feeling Emmaline would find a way to get me too, despite my dogged thoughts. Once we entered through the bridge, I gave a quick chat to Urien, and he was ecstatic to be sending me home. As good friends as we are, he felt a need to explore the stars as much as I needed to feel Pacitus under my feet. I saluted him as a cordial gesture, as he would throw a celebration soon to liven up his crew, thanks to new supplies gifted by the ecclesiarchy from Savaven.

I went to my quarters to retire, a near kilometer of a walk, remembering when I had escorted a very drunk Emmaline down the same course not so long ago. I stripped my hands of my gloves, and opened the door to my chambers...

One month later...

We had arrived on Pacitus a week earlier, having granted ourselves a few days to recuperate at the Agesola estate. I needed to speak with Demetrius and inform the rest of the staff of the unclassified aspects of our mission, at least regarding the death of Samara to ease their minds, for they had once been well acquainted. We held a small funerary service two days after arrival, placing the necklace I had taken from her body in the ground. However, other than that sombre occasion and my inability to turn my mind off from orchestrating activities around the manor, it was quite pleasant. The day after the service, I took Emmaline to Primogena, knowing she was ecstatic to go shopping at the capital. Though the real treat was yet to come, as she well knew.

Clara and Selencia were both relieved to be home. While both had volunteered to accompany us on our mission and neither had suffered worse than a few scrapes and bruises, both were tempered and even somewhat disturbed by their experiences, and after careful observation and a few tests, I deemed what they really needed was time at home to relax and cope. Emmaline, though she was as effected as anyone during the heat of the moment, was surprisingly resilient and able to bounce back from her experiences with an endurance that outmatched even a few inquisitors. Despite her exposure to such things as facing down a chaos astartes and the taint of the warp, she had the same vibrant look in her eyes when she saw a dress she fancied or a piece of jewelry she gleefully asked I purchase for her. We spent the day visiting eateries, antique shops, the lush botanical gardens, and miles upon miles of shopping lanes.

Lazarus and Lucius Raj spent their days with their usual stoicism, grinding away the hours of meditation, drills, and the study of various subjects. The former skitarii and I had finished refitting our lander with an autocannon of some size, overlapping plates of plasteel along the wings that would increase its aerodynamics, as well as finalizing the preparations to install the new engine. I had also decided to teach Lucius to read, as the current gothic was somewhat different in grammatical practice than back in his day, but we did not get too far into our lessons before our planned trip had arrived.

After a week of relaxation, our train had arrived. Emmaline and I were set to go on a honeymoon of sorts, an extended trip that lasted a fortnight, taking the luxury speed train on a trip called the Amalthea Zephyr. It was a romantic roundabout of the continent, that moved astride the glittering Amaranthine Sea, arriving at Malandor for a day, then traveling past the verdant farmlands of Lacadai and arriving north to the snow covered mountains of Kalydon, before turning east through the pine forests of the wilderness and the city of Idalium, before arcing southwards through the jeweled cities before arriving once again at Primogena. Emmaline had spent a multiple hours at Primogena shopping for outfits for the trip, and I admit I had purchased a few suits for myself. I had purchased a VIP ticket to meet the planetary governor at Idalium after a day of skiing at Idalium.

Demetrius and his staff had helped us remember all of our effects, but there had been little to forget. We had only just arrived back, half of our essentials were simply moved from one bag to another. Clara offered to accompany us, but I denied her. I could tell she simply wished to show me she was not remiss in her duties, but I felt she needed some more time at home. Carefully, I packed my autogun and brought my ornamental pallasch, more for show than any feeling I would use it. Surprisingly, Lazarus took me aside before we stepped out and informed me the tech-priest had managed to grant the weapon a limited power field, just in case.

"Have fun, master Drakos, lady Von Morganstern." Demetrius Richter said, his kindly face spread in a smile. The other staff had gathered out of the house to bid us farewell. The sun was setting on the horizon, as the train was set to disembark at midnight. Clara and Selencia and Lazarus had all come out to bid us farewell, though Lucius wisely stayed out of sight. Emmaline informed me he was doing better with his breathing exercises. As long as he experienced nothing stringent, he should be fine until our return in two weeks time.

Our aircar awaited, the driver patient as he was being paid by the hour, and it was a two hour drive to Primogena. I wore a finely tailor jacket and pressed trousers, setting our bags in the back of the aircar as Emmaline waved goodbye to the others. I closed the back of the trunk, and gave a smile to my lover. "We ready?"

The Amalthea Zephyr was impressive. I had seen great cathedrals and mighty starships of course, but both of those things were built for simple and brutal purposes. The Zephyr was not brutal. The engine was over fifty meters long and half that thick, a great blunt nosed wedge of ivory and bright brass, studded with observation turrents, smoke stacks, and vox antenaes worked to look like saints holding aloft scrolls of Imperial wisdom. The cars it pulled were scarecelly less ornate, twenty of them, each thirty meters long and lined with armorcys that was opaque from without, but so clear from the inner side as to seem open air. The advertisments claimed that every amenity was to be found on board: Three restuarants, gambling tables, gaming of all kinds, massage parlors, even an indoor sports arena.

It was said that any pleasure you could imagine was available about the Zephyr, and pleasures you couldn't would be provided upon request.

The platform was already crowded with people looking to explore those very pleasures. Some of them were nobles, whose retinues kept the crowds back with staves or ceremonial two handed swords. Others were bussiness people, ship captains, guilders who were springing for a few days of luxury before heading back to their important lives, distinguished by bussiness suits or gowns cut to some imitation of court fashion. Some were on honeymoons, or simply well to do commoners who had saved to experience the trip of a lifetime. All were presenting carved ivory tickets which were themselves a work of art while the great locomotive took on water for its powerplant from thick hoses that fed into it like tentacles emerging from a cephalopod.

Luggage flowed into the belly of the beast on guilded servitors, each artfully wrought to resemble a beast of burden in silver and onyx. Our own luggage had already been collected, Hadrian having been compelled to pay extra for the security of unsearched baggage given the nature of some of our possessions. These would be kept in the void shielded cargo bellies of the cars. Ledgend had it that more than one heist had been attempted, the value of so many wealthy patrons personal effects being beyond easy calculation, but those ledgends assured customers that those attempts had been repulsed bloodily by state of the art combat servitors engaged for the purpose.

I stepped out of the air car dressed in my finiest. My finest in this case being a black dress that fell clingingly to my hips before dropping to the ground with a side slit which revealed black lace stockings of surpassing quality. A ring of static charge kept the hem of the dress from every quite touching the ground, giving me the appearance of gliding. Nor was that the only surprise the dress held. It's midnight black silk was microslited over a peralescent white under fabric, so that when the fabric pulled tight over my body the slits tended to open making me appear to shimmer with emphasising starlight. I had ice diamonds and neck and wrist and a rather unncessary cumberbund of white shimmer silk around my waist. The entire ensemble was finished with a coronet of wrought silver from which depended a black veil which fell to my crimson painted lips.

"Shall we alight?" I asked Hadrian with a smile.