"Right, rember to contact Tech-Sergeant Dan to sit in on the eting."
Romulus offered one final reminder.
Ledodes nodded and turned to leave. Pedro and the Priest followed closely behind him. Their pace was brisk, and the silhouettes of the three n vanished at the end of the corridor almost instantly.
After seeing Ledodes off, Romulus turned and walked toward the Dawnlight.
His mind was already calculating their upcoming plans. He needed to convene a brief eting with his companions as soon as possible to discuss the exact details of their next move.
"These Rogue Traders certainly are well-inford."
Walking along the internal corridors of the Dawnlight, his gaze inadvertently swept over the ecclesiarchal school below.
Through the massive observation window, he could see an isolated group of apprentices clad in simple robes. Guided by an instructor, they were devoutly reciting scripture. Their voices drifted up faintly, carrying a solemn rhythm.
These Rogue Traders could even manage to procure Untouchables.
Since the very beginning of the crusade, they had submitted communication requests long before any other Imperium institutions. Their fleets usually followed closely behind the Expeditionary Fleet like a pack of opportunistic hounds, always ready to lap up the post-war scraps.
The military might possessed by these Rogue Trader Dynasties guaranteed local security to a certain extent, assisting in preserving the hard-won fruits of the expedition.
At the sa ti, the Expeditionary Fleet's offensives were greatly facilitated by the highly tily intelligence they provided. Many of their victories could be directly attributed to the pervasive information networks of the Rogue Traders.
It was safe to say that the Rogue Traders were far more reliable than the vast majority of Imperium factions.
Of course, one should not mistake these Rogue Traders for saints.
These individuals were essentially the equivalent of privateer fleets from the historical Victorian era operating under a royal letter of marque, or ruthless colonial trading companies.
They were certainly efficient—far more so than the standard Imperium bureaucracy—but for the local inhabitants of any given world, their arrival often heralded disaster.
The planets along their route could only pray that they lacked any rare or abundant local resources.
Otherwise, having the entire planet converted into a mining world on the spot, with the entire population forced into indentured servitude, would be considered getting off lightly.
"Did you hear the conversation just now?"
Romulus pushed open the door to the room. His gaze lingered briefly on a Callidus Assassin imprisoned within a psychic forcefield before he spoke.
The assassin's figure was faintly visible within the pale blue energy field, perfectly still like a frozen statue.
Inside the room, Arthur and Rases were already hard at work.
Karna was still accompanying The Angel, spearheading the artistic endeavors they undertook after every battle to commorate their glorious deeds.
These two, however, were busy consolidating a mountain of intelligence. The room was cluttered with various docunts and dataslates, and the air carried the faint scent of incense mingled with the cold tang of tal.
"We heard."
Arthur stood in the middle of a rather large clearing in the room, sorting through stacks of Trade Warrants.
These warrants ca from various Rogue Trader Dynasties. Among them were versions personally authorized by the Primarchs and The Emperor Himself. There were also those issued by the High Lords, though the Transmigrators clearly looked down on those.
Thanks to the Transmigrators' ability to materialize souls, these forged copies were practically indistinguishable from the genuine artifacts.
Hum—
Arthur raised his blade, the tal glowing faintly to cast a soft halo over the docunts. He focused intently, adjusting the angle to ensure that the lighting and shadows on every single warrant perfectly matched the originals.
Simply looking identical was not enough; these blood-stained warrants also possessed deep, mystical connections. Fortunately, they could still draw upon The Emperor's power to finalize this crucial step.
"I have to admit, these Rogue Traders are vastly more reliable than most Imperium institutions."
Arthur's voice carried a hint of profound realization.
Truthfully, after two years of this grueling crusade, he increasingly understood exactly why the commanders of this universe were so fiercely stubborn and arrogant.
False intelligence ran rampant. Half the ti, it was impossible to discern whether the misleading reports were the machinations of Chaos, petty political infighting, or just so bored Imperium Noble playing pranks via Astropathic communication.
The Transmigrators possessed multiple reliable thods for verifying information. Their favored tactic was utilizing Daemons as Sacrifices to conduct Prophecies, which yielded incredibly accurate results. The locals, however, enjoyed no such luxuries.
Under such dire circumstances, trusting your own instincts was infinitely more reliable than trusting the supposed intelligence of the Imperium's bureaucratic machine.
"But the drawbacks are just as obvious,"
Rases chid in from the side.
He gently prodded the suspended Callidus Assassin with a finger, examining her as if she were a delicate porcelain doll. The assassin's body remained completely motionless within the psychic forcefield. Only her eyes remained, retaining the exact sa icy, murderous glare they held right before her imprisonnt.
"All this frequent communication has allowed quite a few uninvited guests to slip aboard our ship."
Rases chuckled, not looking the least bit troubled by the security breach.
These female Callidus Assassins utilized esoteric drugs and natural talents to gain abilities akin to the Shapeshifters of ancient Western Fantasy Works. They could bypass even the most rigorous genetic screening, allowing them to effortlessly infiltrate factions like the Dark Eldar or the T'au, races that either shunned or entirely lacked a connection to the Warp.
Of course, when faced with true psykers, their shapeshifting proved woefully inadequate. They frequently found themselves captured and outmaneuvered by Craftworld Eldar Farseers.
"The Four Great Assassins have all arrived."
Arthur replied without bothering to look up, his hands never pausing in their ticulous work.
"I already tossed the Vindicare Assassin out to hang from the ship's ram. I really detest having soone point a sniper scope at us."
"The Culexus Assassins are currently being kept with the Untouchables gifted to us by the Rogue Traders. The mont they realized their blank aura had absolutely no effect on us, they fell completely silent. For now, I have them pulling double duty, educating the Untouchables who share their wretched origins."
Untouchables were humans whose presence in the Warp resembled an absolute black hole. Because of this terrifying void, they were commonly known as the Soulless Ones.
They were brought aboard primarily to test if the Transmigrators' abilities would be nullified by their anti-psychic aura. The results were comical; the Soulless Ones could not even suppress the casual soul projections conjured up by Rases.
Thus, the group had taken it upon themselves to care for these Soulless Ones. After all, humans possessing such a dreadful anomaly were universally despised and generally suffered utterly miserable lives.
It was from this exact tragic demographic that the Culexus temple recruited its terrifying assassins.
"As for the Eversor Assassins who require specialized Containnt Pods, I simply jettisoned their pods into the cold void of Space."
Arthur's tone carried a chilling ruthlessness. The companions tacitly allowed these Officio Assassinorum agents to transmit intelligence back to their masters, but that certainly did not give them a free pass to run wild on the ship.
Eversor Assassins were heavily modified killing machines, subjected to horrific augntations regardless of the agonizing side effects. When unleashed, they could temporarily erupt with a burst of Combat Power far exceeding that of a standard Adeptus Astartes.
Coupled with cocktails of combat stimms dating back to the Dark Age of Technology—whether the horrific instability was a flaw in the manufacturing process or an intentional design—they were hopelessly deranged. They were, quite literally, walking ti bombs.
"Let us hope their colleagues are reliable."
Romulus gave a curt nod as he listened, his gaze sweeping across the heavily fortified room.
His eyes finally settled back on the paralyzed Callidus Assassin, a faint, amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"It seems we are absolutely swarming with 'guests'."
The makeup of their Expeditionary Fleet was becoming more absurdly diverse by the day.
"Of course, and they were polite enough to bring us plenty of gifts,"
Rases grinned broadly as he reached into a containnt locker, casually retrieving a Phase Sword and a terrifyingly advanced Neuro-Disintegrator.
"Necron technology, fresh for the taking. We can finally set our tireless, demonic laborers to analyzing its inner workings."
——
"."
Far across the galaxy, upon the sacred Throne World of Terra, the Grand Master of the Officio Assassinorum scratched his head in utter bewildernt. He stared intensely at a classified report that had just been materialized before him via an intricate Warp Ritual.
'How is there only one of them left?'
Reviews
All reviews (0)