Rogue Trader

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Rogue Trader Page 34

by Andy Hoare


  Lucian shook his head in silent disgust, looking around the table to judge which councillors might share his views. He saw that some might. General Gauge, Admiral Jellaqua, noble and honourable warriors both, appeared uneasy at the cardinal’s words. Lucian judged the White Scars Space Marine to be a man of honour too, as intolerant of aliens as any of his brethren, but not a mass murderer in the sense advanced by the cardinal. He was less sure of others, and saw that he faced an uphill struggle to persuade any onto a course from which they might all prosper, and away from one in which the cardinal’s hellfire and brimstone would lead to nothing but death.

  Lucian’s glance settled upon the figure of Inquisitor Grand, who was conferring with the council orderly, his manner both threatening and surreptitious at once. Taking a deep breath, Lucian went on.

  ‘Council members, I am, as you know, the son of a great line of rogue traders. My family and a thousand others have penetrated the outer darkness for millennia, pushing back the frontiers of the Emperor’s Domains, bringing lost worlds back to the fold of humanity, and exploiting all we encounter for the ultimate benefit of all mankind.’ Lucian saw the cardinal smirk at this, but carried on nonetheless. ‘We do so not by launching ourselves at any and all foes we encounter, but by measured conquest. Those we cannot conquer, we exploit, one way or another. I tell you, we must accept the possibility that the tau might prove too proficient a foe to crush so easily. If we are to have war, a reasoned war with a profitable outcome, then I pledge my support wholeheartedly. But if we are to slaughter these aliens for no reason other than their existence, at the cost to ourselves, I fear we might pay. Then I cannot, in all truth, promise my unqualified aid.’

  Silence followed Lucian’s address, and he sat once more, content that he had spoken his mind truthfully. Whether or not it would sway any of the council remained to be seen. Lucian turned to his son, and saw that Korvane was intently watching Inquisitor Grand, his expression glowering yet unreadable. Even as Lucian looked to the inquisitor, Grand stood, nodded briefly to the council, and left the chamber without a word. Perhaps Grand feared that Lucian had swayed the council, and had left before that power could be mobilised against him. Perhaps not, Lucian mused, for the affairs of inquisitors were best left well alone.

  Brielle’s heart raced as she approached the armoured portal, the entrance to the detention block. A heavy, circular door, tau icon­ography stencilled upon it in blocky white text, barred the way. The passage was dark and they were alone, and for that Brielle was thankful.

  ‘Is it locked?’ Brielle asked Naal as he appeared at her side.

  In response to her question, Naal consulted a spartan console beside the door. He nodded. ‘It is, my lady, from within.’

  ‘What now then? Can you get it open?’

  ‘Yes indeed,’ Naal grinned, producing a small device of obvious tau manufacture from his jacket. She watched as he placed the device, which was no larger than his hand, against the door console. It adhered to the wall instantly. Lights began to blink across its slab-like surface, at first in apparently random fashion, before taking on a steady sequence. The screen upon the device’s surface lit up, and Naal stepped back with evident pride.

  Brielle looked to Naal, and then to the device. She stepped in closer, pushing her way in front of him to look upon the small pict screen. She saw what it showed, and turned her head to kiss Naal upon the cheek.

  The viewer showed the scene on the other side of the portal, the device evidently having achieved communion with the station’s native security net. Brielle knew that the tech-priests had yet to fathom the workings of the tau command and control network, and had been more concerned with superimposing their own machinery on the station than with shutting down the old. She was grateful, for it gave her an edge, and a chance of success.

  Brielle watched a scene that she guessed was captured by a spy lens in the chamber beyond. The entire station was covered with the small, unobtrusive devices, and this room was no exception. It showed two munitorum guards, both female, both tall and broad, and both armed with shock mauls and protected by the heavy, interlocking plate of carapace armour. They were not the sort of women she would want to pass time with.

  ‘This device communes with the entire station logister network?’ Brielle asked, turning her head to look up at Naal, who looked over her shoulder.

  ‘Yes, though the tau terms for what you describe differ significantly.’

  ‘Fine,’ Brielle said. ‘We need to distract them, activate an alarm elsewhere to draw them away long enough for us to get in. Can you do that?’

  ‘I can, my lady,’ Naal replied, reaching around Brielle’s shoulders to operate the device. Brielle watched as alien characters appeared on the viewer, Naal working his way through a series of menus and submenus, until he had located the function he sought.

  ‘I have access to the master security net,’ he said. ‘From here I can trigger any alarm in the station. Which would you have me activate?’

  Brielle smiled demurely, a sudden thrill coursing through her as she considered the mischief she could wreak with but a single command. She could trigger a core reactor leak alarm, and cause every soul on the station to abandon ship. She could trigger fire retardant in the council chambers; the possibilities really were endless.

  But, she knew she had a task to fulfil, and could not risk discovery for so trivial a prank, though the thought of some of the pompous buffoons on the council soaked in foam did have a certain appeal.

  ‘We need to activate something low level and nearby, something that’ll get their attention, but no one else’s.’

  She watched as Naal scrolled through a long list of functions. Stopping, he asked ‘Localised conduit overheat?’

  ‘So long as it’s just this compartment. We don’t want the entire deck to evacuate. And make sure the threat is coming from our side of the door; we don’t want them plundering right into us.’

  Naal smiled, accessed another sub menu, and nodded. ‘I can activate the alarm in such a fashion that only the guards will hear it. I’ll make it appear as a precautionary, yet mandatory alert so they don’t spread panic wherever they evacuate to. That should give us the time we need, my lady.’

  ‘Do it.’

  Naal activated the alert function, and switched the viewer back to the scene within the detention block. She watched as the guards’ heads turned sharply, though she could not hear what they heard. The women looked to one another, and one shrugged, her lips moving in speech.

  ‘Move, you witless bitches,’ Brielle muttered, suddenly uneasy that the guards might decide it was more important to stay at their posts than to answer the alert.

  Then, just as Brielle was considering increasing the alert level, she saw the guards shoulder their mauls and leave, exiting the detention block through a far exit. Brielle breathed a sigh of relief and turned around to face Naal.

  ‘Come on then,’ she smiled. ‘Open the door and let’s get on with it.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ Naal answered, activating the armoured portal, and detaching the control device.

  Brielle moved to one side of the opening as the huge door swung inwards, peering through cautiously. The sound of the alarm came from within, its tone shrill and insistent. Naal pocketed the device and followed Brielle’s lead, peering from the opposite side of the opening.

  ‘All clear, my lady,’ he said. ‘Do you wish me to enter first?’

  Annoyance flared within her at the suggestion that she might not be as capable as he was at dealing with whatever might await them through the portal. She drew her laspistol and stepped through the opening before he could do so himself.

  The detention block was as dark as the passages through which they had approached it, though Brielle was struck by an air of oppression as soon as she entered. The clean lines and unadorned surfaces of the original tau structure were here, as elsewhere, subve
rted by the presence of man. She saw that the block was not originally intended as a prison, and doubted that the tau even had much use for such institutions. It had plainly served as some form of storage facility, the tech-priests having crudely welded great iron bars across the bays, each of which radiated out from the area in which Brielle found herself.

  She looked down each bay, one at a time, catching movement in the darkness behind the bars on either side of the long spurs. She knew that one spur would contain the tau prisoners, but which?

  ‘Look for a manifest, a log, anything that might tell us where they are.’ She called to Naal, rifling through the parchments and scrolls piled on top of a bureau nearby. Papers scattered in all directions. ‘And see if you can deactivate that alarm.’

  Naal looked around the chamber, located a section of wall, and depressed a barely discernible panel. A small section of wall lifted up, to reveal a bank of bright-lit controls. Naal reached up and deactivated the alarm with a single motion.

  ‘Thank you,’ Brielle said. ‘That was really getting on my…’

  ‘I have them, my lady,’ Naal said. ‘Cell block Eta.’

  ‘Good,’ Brielle replied. ‘Cover that up when you’re done. Which one’s Eta?’

  ‘This way,’ Naal said, indicating one of the dark passages radiating from the area in which they stood.

  ‘Good. Follow me,’ she replied, setting off for the cell block. She was soon engulfed in darkness, and she slowed lest she stumble. As her eyes became accustomed to the low light, she became aware of subtle movements within the shadows beyond the bars, and halted to look closer. She noticed too that the air in the block was even closer, the subtle taint of despair drifting upon a stale breeze. She squatted, determined to discover who, or what was imprisoned within.

  A low moan emanated from the cell, sending a shiver up Brielle’s spine. It was the moan of the damned, she thought, and had surely not been voiced by one of the tau prisoners. As her eyes adjusted to the dark still more, she began to discern lumpen forms within the cell, the source, she realised, of the movement and the terrible sound.

  ‘Deserters,’ Naal whispered from behind Brielle, causing her to start. ‘Bound for trial, or what passes for trial in the Imperium.’

  She turned and looked into his face, her eyes taking in the aquila tattooed across it. ‘These men are criminals?’

  ‘Who can say, my lady.’

  ‘They refused to fight?’

  ‘According to the records, yes.’

  ‘Then they are criminals.’

  ‘In the eyes of the Imperium, yes,’ Naal replied, his voice low. and dangerous. ‘Perhaps they merely refused to fight against the Tau Empire. Perhaps they see what the crusade council, what the High Lords of Terra themselves, cannot.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Brielle replied, ‘but it matters not a bit. If they refuse to fight, they will die. That’s how it is. That’s how it’s always been and how it always will be.’

  ‘Not if more like them, like you and me, see an alternative.’

  ‘There’s a big difference,’ Brielle said, looking back towards the forms within the cell, ‘between aiding the tau, and actually turning on your own race.’

  ‘No one has asked you to turn on your own, my lady. Though you yourself have asked…’

  ‘Not yet, they haven’t, Naal, but I’m not stupid. I know where this could lead. But know this. If I join, I do so on my terms, when I’m ready to. Do you understand?’

  ‘I understand.’ Naal stood as he spoke. ‘All I can ask is that you do what you think right, for the Greater Good.’

  Brielle stood without answering. She resumed her search of the black, peering into the darkness beyond the bars on either side as she passed along its length. As she approached the end of the passage, she knew that she had found what she had come for.

  She halted, indicating with a gesture that Naal should do likewise. She saw a row of figures slumped across the deck, through the bars on her right, and by their form, they were obviously not human.

  At that instant, a wave of nausea washed over her, and the air around her tasted suddenly tainted. She had experienced that horrible sensation once before, in the presence of…

  A whisper, low and laden with menace, rasped from the cell to her left. ‘My lady Arcadius.’

  She turned, sweat appearing at her brow as the cell block felt suddenly humid and stifling.

  ‘And our friend, Captain Delphi, though I doubt Brielle here knows him as such.’

  Brielle knew that it was Inquisitor Grand. She felt, on some primal level, the corruption of his presence even before he had spoken. She felt paralysis clawing at her limbs, and knew that the inquisitor used his witchery against her. She tried to look at Naal, confusion at Grand’s naming of him rising within her. She found she could barely turn her head, and through her peripheral vision saw that Naal was likewise afflicted. She looked back towards the inquisitor just as he emerged from the cell, a dark shadow against an even darker backdrop, only his mouth visible beneath the folds of his black hood.

  ‘I’d hoped to find one of you here,’ Grand said, his voice still low and rasping, ‘but to find you both… surely the Emperor smiles upon me.’

  Brielle heard Naal try to respond, but only a pained croak emerged.

  ‘Hush, Delphi,’ the inquisitor told Naal. ‘There’ll be plenty of time for confessions later. There’s much for us to discuss, and much you’ll wish to tell me, in time. You’ll go to your grave, Delphi, but you’ll be unburdened of your many sins against the God-Emperor of Man.’

  Brielle heard Naal’s response. Though unintelligible, its meaning was unmistakable.

  ‘And you, my pretty.’ Grand turned his attention back to Brielle. ‘What shall we do with you? Is it even worth my while attempting to extract a confession from you? Or should I just practise my tender arts upon your soft flesh, beginning with your mind, perhaps, and working my way out. Maybe Delphi here would like to watch.’

  Brielle spat an incoherent curse at the hooded inquisitor, hate welling within her. She screamed in silent, mental denial, directing all her rage and frustration at her capture.

  ‘Now now, my dear, settle down,’ the inquisitor said, turning his back on Brielle and advancing upon Naal. Feeling her rage boil out of control, she pushed with all her might against the mental bonds that restrained her. She focused on Grand’s back, boring her hatred deep into his soul.

  The inquisitor turned sharply, his attentions entirely focused on Brielle. She felt a strange sense of triumph; though she would likely die, she would do so with defiance and with honour. That much had been instilled in her by her upbringing amongst the savage nobility of the feral world of Chogoris.

  ‘You are a strong one, aren’t you?’ Grand said, reaching out a hand towards Brielle’s face. She felt his caress upon her cheek, reeling at the witch power coursing through it and into her body, the source of the paralysis against which she struggled.

  ‘You can feel me, can’t you?’ Grand moved in closer, his hand snaking around to the nape of Brielle’s neck, and grasping the flowing plaits of her hair. The sight of his hooded face filled her vision. She saw into the shadows beneath the hood, witchfire guttering in the depths of his shadowed eyes. ‘Let me see you.’

  As Grand closed in upon her, Brielle felt her soul begin to wither beneath his baleful gaze. Corruption radiated from him, focused and burning through his touch where it gripped the back of her neck. She screamed within against the pain of his touch, pushing against him with all the power her soul could muster, determined beyond reason to expel the paralysis entering her body, to push it back into his.

  Alarm appeared in Grand’s eyes, and Brielle was stunned to see him stagger backwards, backing into Naal as he did so. Unable to control his limbs, Naal fell to the deck with a painful crash, knocking him senseless against the bars.

  �
�You think you can resist me do you, girl?’ the inquisitor growled as he regained his balance. ‘What little power you might have is insufficient. Now, you are mine.’

  Focusing all her pain and rage, Brielle lashed out in one final effort to break the bonds paralysing her body. She felt her soul slipping from her, and her vision blurred into blinding white fire. She pushed one last time, feeling something yield beneath her effort. She realised with a start that it was her own flesh that yielded so, movement returning to her limbs. With a rush of sensation, her body was returned to her, and she collapsed to the ground before she could fully take control of her motor functions.

  The sudden loss of control saved her life. A deafening report filled the cell block, followed an instant later by the unmistakable sound of an exploding bolt as it struck the bulkhead behind the space she had just vacated.

  Brielle rolled, her vision clearing. She looked up and saw the black-robed form of the inquisitor advancing upon her, bolt pistol in hand, his eyes swirling with the ectoplasmic whirlpools beneath his hood.

  As Grand lowered the pistol to draw a bead on her head, she lifted her arm and with a single flick of her thumb activated the tiny, one-shot flamer she wore in the guise of a ring. A cone of chemical fire erupted from the weapon, leaping the two metres between Brielle and the inquisitor, engulfing him instantly. The inquisitor’s robes caught fire, and he gave voice to a scream that Brielle felt in her soul as much as heard, searing her mind and threatening to knock her out. She clambered to her feet and rushed to Naal’s side as the inquisitor staggered against a wall and collapsed. She saw that Naal lived yet, but was still overcome by the paralysis inflicted by Grand’s psychic attack. She hooked an arm beneath each of his shoulders, and pulled with all her might. Naal’s body was a deadweight, but she succeeded in dragging him along the passageway and back to the entrance to the detention block.

 

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