In which a Kin Voidmaster aids an Imperial cartographer in returning to Far-space.
Disclaimer: My short stories will take liberties and make assumptions with the lore we have, but are intended to be in line with official lore at the time of writing. I apologize in advance for all mistakes.
Voidmaster Gynnor Starkên of the Hernkyn scout vessel Iron idly scratched his chin while sipping a simple brü and reading the letter displayed on the terminal of his station. It was from his spouse-partner, relayed to his small ship by the wârpekul she had installed on his ship the last time he was home. He didn't know how it worked. He wasn't entirely sure even she did, forge-master or not. It incorporated some sort of barrier tech, of that he was certain, though it seemed to work without the help of a Grimnyr, so maybe not. He didn't entirely trust the room-sized artifact, but it was welcome - a ship with a crew of only twenty-three Kin could get lonely.
The letter itself was typical of Asha. Businesslike. Practical. Ordered. Traits he was certain she had learned in order to mask her immense curiosity and impulsiveness a little, make her more acceptable to their often tradition-bound kin. He skimmed the parts where she recited the recent discussions in the Hearthspake. Discussions of whether the Sigma Zero kindred should join a League again, and more importantly which one, were still ongoing. He sighed and shifted his weight in the command chair. Those discussions had gone on for a lifetime and would probably keep going for another.
He scrolled further down the text, and got to what he knew he'd find - questions, ideas, all-but-demands for him to report his findings and experiences. He smirked. That was the Asha he loved. But he didn't have anything useful to tell her yet.
His musings where disturbed by steps in the hallway leading to the bridge, and soon after the loud clearing of a throat. Thankful for having his back to the door so he had time to put on a jovial expression, Gynnor turned to face his guest.
"How much longer will I have to endure this... ship?" demanded the tall, thin man, the mechanical parts of his two servitors whirring behind him. He was dressed in long, brown robes, festooned with a smattering of rosettes and parchments. One of his eyes was replaced with an ugly mechanical replacement, the contraption standing about two thûmals from the side of his head and looking heavy. Gynnor wondered if the man had implants in his neck to help keep its weight from being a problem, and inwardly thanked the ancestors that Kin implants were usually more practical - and sightly - in design.
Swallowing another mouthful of pride that tasted more bitter each time he did so, he bowed to the dignitary. "My lord Gwuge, I appologize again for the state of my vessel. We cannot perform long warp-jumps as we have no navigator aboard. We are making all possible speed in bringing you back to the Im..." He coughed. He had nearly said "back to the imperium", but that wouldn't do, he was pretending to be a humble abhuman prospector in employ to a rogue trader. "...back to the Imperial stronghold at Rohn."
Gwuge sighed affectedly, almost theatrically. "I suppose it can't be helped, so far from civilization. So far from true imperial citizens. I guess you are only Squats."
Gynnor's stomach tightened, not because of the slur, but because he saw movement out of his eye. Uncle Âkhs, the expeditions bellicose Chtonian liaison had tightened his huge mechanical fist around the plasma axe he carried everywhere. But thankfully the Kin cyborg didn't do anything else. Gynnor wouldn't have put it past him to cut their guest down, should the insults continue.
"My lord, perhaps some refreshments would help you take your mind of things?"
"Hm." the Astro Cartographica adept sniffed. "Better than nothing, I suppose. Your supplies are surprisingly... adequate... for a prospecting vessel. I shall have to make a note that food tithes for this sector can be increased. I accept. Bring it to me in my cabin."
With that, the human turned and left the bridge, his two servitors ambulating awkwardly after him.
The bridge was silent for a few moments, the only sound the bionic feet of the Chtonian stomping towards the door controls. "At least some of our implants are more elegant." Gynnor thought to himself as he observed Uncle Âkhs moving. Of course, the man wasn't anyones real uncle, but his wisdom and cameraderie - when he wasn't yelling - had earned him the nickname. Gynnor had a feeling there would be more yelling and less wisdom today.
Waiting only for the bridge blast doors to close and give them privacy, Âkhs turned to his voidmaster and bellowed: "In the name of the Ancestors, why don't we space that bastard? He's a proper prize for an ork! Ha! Bloody orks would probably turn up their noses at him!"
"Stellar body A-66-BD-8-Z is within range of our next plunge." the metallic voice of Fimm, the ships Ironkin Wayfinder, stated matter-of-factly. "If we dumped him into it, the chance of his remains ever being found are less than 0.0000000000000000000000000000000037%." You could never quite tell if Fimm was serious or not, but he was always accurate.
By the time the Ironkin had listed all the zeros, the absurdity of their situation had gotten to both Gynnor and Âkhs, and they were both chuckling. "You know why." Gynnor said. "We need an excuse to scout the situation at Rohn. The imperial tech-shamen of the mechanicus are gathering there, and we need to know if they're a threat to the Hold."
"We could have just gone there to refuel." Âkhs said, though the edge had left his voice.
"Normally perhaps. But with several ships there full of idle tech-priests just itching to pull apart anything they haven't seen before? We have at least thirteen systems aboard this ship that they would either consider holy or heretical. Not to mention the Ironkin."
"What makes you think having this Gwuge guy along will make any difference?" Âkhs muttered.
So they were to hash out that old argument again. Gynnor sighed. He'd explained this several times before. "Because he's perfect. A lordling and a highly placed adept of the Astra Cartographica, with - to them - unique readings on the Circumnuclear Disk. And the locations of his stranded ship, stuck with a damaged Geller Field and unable to get anywhere. He'll be making a lot of noise to get a rescue operation going."
"Well, I don't like him."Âkhs said, slamming the door control again and leaving the bridge.
"Our guests behavior does leave something to be desired." Fimm stated as the Chtonian left.
Gynnor sat down and punched the orders to bring their guest some food.
The imperial base at Rohn had been a simple trading post for hundreds of years, an anchorage for Rogue Traders brave enough to head into the core, but of little other consequence. The tearing of reality by the Great Rift had changed that. What has once been a backwater had become a major stopping point for imperial trade, because warp storms had made other routes more dangerous or even impossible to traverse.
To the Kin of kindred Sigma Zero, this had at first been an opportunity to increase trade, a welcome situation as their status of being independent from any League meant they were always in need of new sources of exotic goods. But in the last few árs, the Adeptus Mechanicus had started amassing a fleet there. Such a concentration of their kind would be a point of worry even to a League. To a lone kindred, even a fairly wealthy and resourceful one such as Sigma Zero, it was an existential threat. And so they had sent their best Hernkyn captain to get more information about their strength and intentions.
Having exited their last hyperspace plunge just outside the Rohn system, Gynnor had invited their guest to the bridge, wanting the bombastic adept at hand to talk to the mechanicus.
And sure enough, moments after entering the system, the comms array started receiving hails. Speech only, as Gynnor had expected, the ship-to-ship vox-technology of most common human ships wouldn't be up to holographic or pict feeds at this range. He was certain the mechanicus fleet he detected ahead of them would have the technology for more sophisticated communication, but they wouldn't expect a ship his size to be able to receive it.
"Unidentfied vessel, state your affiliation and purpose." A flat and raspy voice , utterly devoid of emotion. Gynnor wasn't entirely sure if it was a servitor, tech-priest or just an extremely bored menial. He drew his breath to answer, slowly, giving Gwuge plenty of time to talk ahead of him - and he was not disappointed.
"I am Harktorius Gwuge of Akturius Prime, son of Lord-governor Gwuge of the Akturius system, Master Adept of the Astra Cartographica. Please prepare for my arrival, and for an immediate rescue operation to regain the vessel Sidus Rimor which is stranded coreward of here with a damaged Geller Field. I shall require..."
"What is the nature of the vessel you are travelling on?" The bored voice interrupted.
"...it's just some abhuman prospectors that we were lucky enough to happen upon. Squats. They're fairly common around here. They are inconsequential. I shall require at least two frigates for the rescue operation, along with..."
"Why has the Sidus Rimor not requested aid by Astropathic Signal?"
Gwuge fell silent for a moment, his face a mix of incredulousness, anger and shock. Clearly he was unused to being interrupted.
"Astrophatic distress calls were sent." He said. "But we could not get through. I do not know why, though empyrean disturbances in this region were common even before... recent events."
Gynnor privately raised an eyebrow. The "recent events" Gwuge referred to could only be the massive warp storms that had plagued the galaxy in the last few árs, that had driven trade towards the Rohn system. Impractical and dangerous for sure, but he found it strange that a man such as Gwuge would be circumspect about referring to it. Perhaps another human superstition. He doubted he'd ever understand them.
There was no answer for a while. Then the flat voice returned. "Dock with the Mars Triumfal. Docking bay 9. Approach route will be transmitted in sub-channels."
Âkhs muttered something under his breath about sailing to far-space.
It had been a tense couple of days, docking the Iron with an Adeptus Mechanicus ship was pretty far down on the list of things Gynnor thought he would ever do. He had ordered the shutdown of all systems he expected could give them away as something else than a common mining ship, and told his Ironkin to respond only with simple queries and databank responses while in the Rohn system. Thankfully, they were all Hernkyn, well trained in the protocols for dangerous contact missions.
Things had gone... Not really well, but at least they hadn't been impounded. Their sensors had gotten good readings on the Mechanicus fleet, and with the initial suspicion out of the way, Gwuge had taken enough attention that very little was afforded to the Iron and its crew. Gynnor had played the role of a bumbling prospector well enough, he thought. But he had hoped they'd be able to land on Rohn itself, where he could have bought some rumors about what the Mechanicus fleet was there for. No such luck, the planet had been declared out of bounds for non-essential traffic for the present - probably to avoid such breaches of operational security. And there was no trading rumors with the servitors of Docking-bay 9 of the Mars Triumfal.
But eventually they had gotten the order to leave, and were told to head back towards the Sidus Rimor along with the rescue expedition. Which was fine. Even better that Gwuge had taken command of one of the frigates. What was not fine was that they had a new passenger. A tech-priest known as Haphex, who they'd have to assume was already finding out all sorts of things they couldn't possibly let the Mechanicus know.
As they entered the warp along with the imperial ships, Âkhs asked: "So what do we do with him?"
Gynnor didn't even pause. "Jam all outgoing transmissions. Release radiation to simulate a catastrophic warp drive failure. Prepare a probe for binary interrogation. We will have what we came for."
With a tone of heavy finality, he added: "And set course for A-66-BD-8-Z."
After a moment, Âkhs whispered: "The Void is in our Veins."
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