Welcome to the first installment of what will become a regular feature updated on either Sundays or Mondays. My friends and I have started up a Rogue Trader RP group recently and I intend to use this feature to tell our tales of heroism and incapability. Hopefully, through my words, you will sail amongst the stars battling the dreaded void whale, shriek in terror as we strike at foul demons, and laugh as we fumble to grip any purchase on reason or talent. This, dear readers, is Tales of Trade and Adventure!
Episode 1: Dubious Beginnings!
Our tale starts, as all tales do, with an order from an incompetent boss. Captain Zak Flanigen, Venerated Rogue Trader and loyal subject of holy Terra, gave me, senchel Danbar of Krixus, a direct order to meet an old friend of his. An antiquarian dealer named Tan'houser. The arrangement was for me to meet him in the Dirty Tau, a drinking establishment I knew well in the under levels of port Wonder. I had no information regarding the subject of the meeting. All I knew was that it was a task of great import and that we alone could be trusted (A truth, I must admit, that bewilders me considering Captain Flanigen's recent record).
Upon entering the Dirty Tau, I immediately became aware of the abundance of stinking, sobbing low lives drinking away their troubles in earnest as if the Emperor himself had admitted to being a xenos orphan. Ordering two house Amsecs, I sat at a secluded booth in what constituted the corner or a circular room and waited for Tan'houser to arrive. Five sips in, I noticed a burly drunken deckhand shouting and generally making a nuisance. I resolved to ignore him as best I could but his insufferable dung munching did it's best to try my patience. Before I could react, Tan'houser made his entrance. Flanked on either side by oxen brutes, Tan'houser reeked of pompery. Resplendent in a mauve coat and tails and off-white pantaloons, he swaggered surely up to my booth without making any effort to promote discretion.
He nodded to me in recognition before sitting. I responded with a hand gensture, indicating the free Amsec, which he then sipped with a pause. Wincing momentarily from the cheap after taste, he began to describe the venture. Dealing primarily in pre-heresy archotech, Tan'houser had recently come across a lead indicating the presence of a rare model of gun-cutter on the feral world of Jorn. He proposed we travel to Jorn and gather evidence confirming the presence of this gun-cutter and return that evidence to him personally. For our efforts, he offered 3.5 million drekits (roughly 2 million imperial crowns) which we would receive upon our return. I agreed in kind and set about another Amsec after wishing Tan'houser a fond fairwell.
It was only when he left the establishment that the situation took a turn for the bizarre. Only two sips into my second Amsec, I was invaded by the company of the loutish deckhand I had previously eluded to. He kept shouting jibberish about needing work so, not wanting to draw further attention to myself, I dragged him into an empty seat and requested he shut up and listen. Now, knowing that a good deal of our experienced crew had been lost when the Captain ordered a bold, if not suicidal, action into the digestive system of a Golden Kendridd, I was disposed to hire a new crew. Here lay an opportunity for me to re-crew the Nimbus (our sturdy vessel) on a slaves wage. There's nothing quite like desperation in a drunks character when it comes to running a business venture, just ask the administratum. I digress. He professed to being a skilled pilot, and a sturdy brawler too. He was born a Hadon Cornelius but insisted on being called 'Don'. Furthermore, he proclaimed on many occasions throughout the discussion to being 'famous on port Wonder for his flying skills' but I for the life of me had never heard of him. Still, the merits of drunken desperation far outweighed my initial doubts and so I instructed him to meet at dock 5, 10AM sharp the next mourning cycle.
Having finally gotten rid of him, I became plagued yet again by another suspicious low life. This time it was an edgy veiled female, whom exuded an aurer of bitter chill. I psycher if ever I had met one. She threatened that if I didn't hirer her for the venture too she would hurl my soul screaming into the warp! Well, I can assure you I was not best pleased by this outrageous demand. Especially since that made it blindingly obvious that she had either eavesdropped on my previous discussions or probed my mind. I suggested that she mind her manners and that if she didn't I wouldn't hesitate in blowing her a new front bottom with the naval hand cannon I had concealed under the table. Reluctantly, she resolved to sit down and listen to my proposal. Now once again, hindsight is a wonderful thing. Knowing that the Captain has a frequent tendency to get injured and a pertinence for using his famous silver throne medicae facility (a remarkable contraption that allows for the healing of major wounds in half the normally expected time. The device functions by absorbing the life-force of powerful psychers, much like the golden thrown itself), our most recent casualty had indeed been our astropath. Picking up on her unease, I offered her the same terms as the previous scumbag Don.
Before she could answer, a trio of off duty LDF (local defense force) cadets entered, chatting away to themselves in boyish jest. Before I could catch her name or her response she had slipped away, revealing to me she had some gripe with the law. She was going to be a live one, I could feel it (a preminition that holds truth).
Hoping to return to my Amsec, I was troubled yet again by a further protagonist. This time a gentleman donning the uniform of a navigator addressed me respectfully and resolved to discuss a business matter with me. Frustrated with my failure to remain unnoticed, I agreed to hear him out. It turns out that Lucius Bobisticus III had recently been propositioned (forced) by the peers within his family lineage to abandon the decadent habits he had become accustomed to and further his family's legacy. Now, it may not suprise you to learn that the Nimbus had actually been marooned at port wonder after Captain Flanigen had mistaken our navigator for a conduit of chaotic warp energy wreaking havoc across the ship. As it turns out, the source of the power originated from an 8 starred artifact that the Captain had recovered from an abandoned Temple on MU7.448. An article he had neglected to declare. We had jumped almost blind and, by the grace of the Emperor, emerged at an outreaching trading post of port Wonder. I digress once again. I offered his royal arseness the same terms as the previous misfits, which he reluctantly accepted.
Alone at last, I resolved to finish my Amsec, which had been sitting idly by. By Horus, at this rate I was never going to finish it! Moments before taking another sip I was interrupted yet again by Don, whom had taken it upon himself to pick a fight with one of the off duty LDF cadets. Emperor above, what had I done to deserve this? I hastened over the scene to find Don directing lewd remarks about the genetic heritage of the cadets mother and father, remarks that the cadet was understandably taking offense to. Before the cadet could respond with violence I stepped in to diffuse the situation. It just so happens that Captain Gwent, the local LDF superior is a close personal friend of mine. An ally I have worked hard to maintain during our business ventures at port Wonder. I mentioned that it would not look good if I in turn disclosed to the Captain any acts of misconduct that the cadet may or may not be thinking of enacting upon a drunk in a local bar. This seemed to do the trick. Undermined, Don grumbled and cursed before stumbling out of the establishment.
At last, I could sit peacefully and sip my Amsec. Ten Terran minutes passed and I felt as if I was in the clear. No more miscreants had invaded my privacy and I had gotten to within a single sip of finishing my drink. Alas, at that very moment, the klaxons and fire hoses sprang to life, pouring us all with waves of oily water and abrasive sound. My Amsec ruined, I sat there in despair. It was going to be a long night.