Reviews
ThedemonlordPingu
I suppose by 40k standards he's decent. He is liberating slavers, only to subject them to serfdom which is a little better, and he's not a psychopath. If another Rogue Trader had found Planetos it could be a lot worse.
justlovereadin
Well spotted. I'm not going to change the setup just for a single point. I can just subtract a point when I decide how much TG he should get for conquering Planetos.
Stannis and his daughter are dead. Ser Onion Knight was away at the time.
darpa-air-force
Well, they won't know what happened and no one really ever liked Stannis. Still, it will cause an uproar.
Williams1996
I've already considered that. Planetos is full of pirates, slavers and other scum ready to be converted.
Rogue Trader CYOA Story
Part 5
"Men, we are the first, last and often only line of defence the Imperium has against what is out there. You and that fine piece of Imperial weaponry you hold in your hands is all that is keeping humanity alive. Most of you will probably not live to see your second year in the Guard and most of you will probably never see your homeworlds again, but I can guarantee you that when you do fall, with a prayer to the most high and mighty God-Emperor on your lips, you will have earned the right to call yourself a man!"
— Staff Sergeant Vermak, 12th Cadian Shock Regiment.
Three-Eyed Raven's Cave. Land of Always Winter.
The Children of the Forest knew that they were doomed, they'd been living out the twilight of their lives for so long that it had become normal for them. It was just that they'd hoped that they would have the chance to undo their greatest mistake before the end. Now it seemed as if someone else would be taking care of that issue and while this good it would come at a terrible price for the rest of this world.
Death was coming for them, the Greenseer, who would the last of his kind, had seen their doom raining down from above every time he looked into the future and there was nothing after that for any of them. Yet Lord Bloodraven didn't seem unhappy about this, he'd lived far longer than most men and he'd known that his end had been coming for some time. There was no avoiding it and so he'd simply accepted the end while choosing to spend the rest of his life in the past. Looking back at better days.
Some of the Children had already given in to despair, they hardly moved, and Leaf considered doing the same. Maybe she could sleep through the end, but she found herself feeling restless and so she kept moving. As Leaf left the cave and went into the snow she considered running, the world was a big place and the Children of the Forest knew how to hide. But you couldn't outrun death, she knew this and so she just wandered around the Weirwood tree.
She spent her remaining time thinking about her life, wishing that she could back and warn her younger self not to press that piece of sharpened stone into the chest of the man who would become the Night King. It had seemed like the only course of action open to them back then. The First Men had seemed unstoppable because no matter how many they killed more would keep coming. So they'd created the Walkers who could animate the dead and use the element of cold against the humans.
If only Leaf had known that peace with the First Men was possible and that they hadn't really been that interested in killing the Children. From the perspective of the humans, the encounters with the Children were few and far between due to their different perspective on time. They'd just been seeking out new lands to call home. What the Children unleashed upon the humans was much worse.
At least the Night King would die with his creators. That had been seen as well. Leaf wondered where the leader of the White Walkers was now. Had he tried to run or was he sitting on a throne of ice in his palace just waiting for this doom to coming raining down from the sky like the judgement of the gods. He too could see fragments of the future and therefore he knew what was coming.
Perhaps he was far enough south that he would survive for a time, not it would make much difference in the long run, even the Night King couldn't withstand the might of the invaders, those who make it rain death. Even if he somehow survived the death from above the invaders would hunt him down no matter how many wights he'd raised or how many more Walkers he'd created.
Leaf sat down in the snow and looked up into the sky, seeing a light up there that she knew wasn't a star, and when the light became bigger she knew that these were the last moments of a very long life. She didn't know anything about lance batteries or orbital bombardment, and really she didn't need to, she knew her death when it came. She died quickly as did the other Children of the Forest and she could only hope that the White Walkers died with her.
(Line Break)
Astapor. Esso.
"The Unsullied have stood here for a day and a night without water," the translator said
She was translating for her master, Kraznys... something or other. I'd already forgotten his name. I didn't see much point remembering it since he'd be dead soon. I'd run my plan by the Lord-General and he'd agreed that the lords of this city needed to be removed from their places of authority and that their lives were forfeit due to their needlessly cruel practices. Which I felt sure were too close to the kind of things the Archenemy got up to for his liking, assuming that he knew about such things. Given the Imperium's need to know the policy and it's less than effective means of interstellar communication he might have been in the dark about such things, but given his rank I doubted it.
Once I'd done to The Good Master what Dany did in the show, and for mostly the same reasons, I'd have the slaves, who would soon be my serfs, take everything of value before I began shipping everyone off to the Stepstones to begin the conquest of the islands. But before then I had to finalise the deal as I needed to be holding the whip when I ordered the Unsullied to cleanse the city of its corrupt rulership. I didn't think it would work if I just took it. The Unsullied would need to see their ownership be transferred to me.
"The things will stand until they drop, they are so obedient," Kraznys continued, speaking in Valyrian.
Melisandre repeated the statement, without any pride, in the common tongue. I needed no translating, as I understood everything I heard thanks to the teaching engines. They were a cool bit of barely understood teaching technology that could be replicated and maintained by the Ad-Mech, just not in great amounts so their use was limited to high ranking humans such as myself and elite warrior such as the Space Marines.
As for Viserys Targaryen, who I had allowed to tag along, he spoke Valyrian because he was a Valyrian. I'd brought the beggar king with me because he wanted to see what progress I was making to put him on the throne and because this would be a good demonstration of my power. So far Viserys hadn't annoyed me too much, the Imperium did have ways of dealing with mental issues and so while he was still arrogant at least he was going around yelling at people about being a dragon every time something bothered him. Hopefully, he'd stay on whatever meds the doctors were giving him.
"They may suit my needs," I said, trying to sound casual "Tell me of their training".
It was amusing that both the Good Master and I had to pretend that we didn't understand each other because of some social protocol. I wondered if he did really think that I didn't understand Valyrian.
"The foreign lord is impressed but speaks no praise to lower the price," Melisandre informed her master. "He wishes to know how they are trained".
Harshly would be my answer.
"Tell him what he wants to know and be quick about it" Kraznys ordered " The day is hot, and I grow bored"
Which the translator soon did. Given that she was doing all the work she should be the one sitting in the fancy chair.
"They begin their training at five in the morning. Every day they drill from dawn to dusk until they have mastered the short sword, the shield and the spear. Only one boy in five survives this rigorous training." Melisandre informed "Their discipline and loyalty are absolute. They fear nothing".
While looking at them it was easy to believe that.
"Can they ride a horse, or withstand a charge?" asked Viserys "We don't want them run down by calvary".
Kraznys sneered upon hearing this. Not bothering to wait for his slave to speak.
"Tell the white-haired boy that they are far better trained than those horse fuckers" the Good Master said to his hard-working translator "and not to talk of matters of which he knows nothing".
Now I took solace in knowing that the disgusting slaver would be dead soon. Ro is fair to Viserys he'd be wondering how they'd do against a cavalry charge of lance carrying armoured knight from Westeros, not against the horse rapists. Which might be a concern if we had to conquer Westeros. It sounded as my future brother-in-law was actually listening to his tutors.
"My master assures you that they more than make up for not being able to ride with their training and their discipline," she said "They will not be defeated nor will they run".
Only Space Marines knew no fear.
"I have heard tell of the discipline of the Unsullied, and I am sure that it is impressive," I said "But any man can be defeated in battle".
After Melisandre did her job, Kraznys sneered again, then he went and cut off one of the nipples of an Unsullied The soldier didn't even move.
"Tell the Good Master there is no need to do that," I said to the slave.
Kraznys must understand my words as he replied before his translator spoke. He was indeed just pretending not to due to some silly social protocol as I'd suspected.
"Why is he worrying about nipples?" asked the slave master "We already cut off their balls".
Melisandre did her best to spin her owner's words.
"Master Kraznys points out that men don't need nipples," she said.
Soon things got back on track.
"Before his training is complete an Unsullied must go to the slave quarters, find a newborn, and kill it before its mother's eyes before paying a silver coin for the trouble," Melisandre's told us
Even Viserys was shocked by this.
"Why do they do that?" he asked.
He soon got a reply.
"This way, my master says, we make sure there is no weakness left in them," she told us.
Things progressed quickly. The payment had already been arranged behind the scenes and I'd handed over a lot of the old Lord-Captains junk along with some guns and my dragon's egg that had been a gift from Magister Illyrio, as the eggs he'd given to the two Targaryens. I only cared about getting my egg back as while I wouldn't hatch one of them, as that involved magic and an Inquisitor was hanging around, but it was a pretty bauble of mine and worth a king's ransom just as a decorative object.
Now it was time to hand over the merchandise.
"Is it done then?" I asked of Kraznys, as I took the whip "They belong to me?".
This was the moment that would decide if I was strong enough to do what needed to be done to survive in a cruel multiverse.
"It is done. He holds the whip" said the slave master "The foreigner has his army".
"It is done. You hold the whip, and so they will obey your orders." the translator informed me
I went over to Melisandre.
"Stay close to me" I ordered her "You're about to need a new job and I require a handmaiden for my future wife".
I raised the whip.
"You might want to close your eyes" I suggested to the local woman.
She followed my advice as I worked my will upon her.
"Attention!" I shouted in Valyrian.
The Unsullied slammed the butts of their spears on the ground and listened as I told them to kill all the Good Master while freeing any slave that they came across. I told them to harm no children and to only fight those who resisted my taking over this city. What happened next was a slaughter at my command and while it made me feel ill I didn't do anything to stop it once it began.
(Line Break)
The Stepstones. The Summer Sea.
Despite having come a family of good breeding back on Cadia, Major Gwynenya 'Gwen' Ionael had not until recently risen as high in the ranks as she would have liked. She'd always know that even with the number of fighting women in the Imperial Guard that her gender would hold her back, as the higher ranks could be a bit of a boy's club, proven by the fact that were only a few notable Lady-Generals in the history books. Jenit Sulla was a role model of Gwen's just not for her writing.
At least the Lord-General knew talent when he saw it, so had he promoted Ionael to the rank of Mayor and sent her off to command the newly formed 2nd Thrax regiment. When she'd first joined them she wondered if she'd be set up to fail what with the regiment being made up of only a few hundred members of the Imperial Guard, more than eight thousands native warriors and a couple of thousand of navy armsmen, but she'd come to realise than she'd been given the chance to prove herself just as capable as male officer and perhaps even better if she could turn this rabble into an effect regiment for the Rogue Trader, who would need the regiment to fight in his wars of conquest.
Ionael knew that the size and composition of Imperial Guard regiments were not standardised across the Imperium; the number of individual Guardsmen alone can vary enormously between regiments, with some being only a few hundred strong at founding-strength, whilst others possess tens of thousands of fighting troops. The 2nd Thrax would be one of the larger regiments she'd ever seen in action.
Her task would be to turn these men and women, they had some navy armswomen as well, into a 'standard' Imperial Guard regiment. She didn't just have foot soilders to work with, she also had several organic fighting and transport vehicles, in this case, horses that she would need to find a use for. She'd already had some ideas about that and soon they would be tested.
As for The Unsullied, they were separate from everyone and weren't even men by some standards, but at least their mutilations meant she didn't have to worry about them getting out of hand and raping some poor woman, and according to what information she'd been given that was a common thing to happen during conflicts on this world. She would punish very harshly any man who was caught doing that even the savages of this world didn't deserve such treatment and there were plenty of whores around.
Right away she'd figured the hard part in dealing with The Unsullied would be getting them to put down their spears and shields to exchange them for an autogun or better yet a lasgun. They would do willingly, but they'd have to adjust their fighting styles. She'd soon figured out that it would be better to let them keep their weapons since they would only be fighting other savages and they could have an autopistol to fall back on.
To the Major, this seemed sensible and as she watched the Unsullied fight from a distance she decided to keep going with that idea and to have the regiment update its fighting style as The Unsullied were replaced over time due to their casualties. Right now the native warriors were butchering their way through the inhabitants of a coastal town that served as a pirate haven here on the island of Bloodstone.
The Rogue Trader wished for this island to serve as his base of operations during the coming conflicts and it would be so since he was the Emperor's will made manifest when outside of the parts of the universe controlled by the Imperium and she was much further away from Holy Terra than she'd ever imagined.
Major Gwynenya Ionael was pleased to see from a suitable distance that the short training sessions she'd put the navy armsmen and women through was paying off. They had hundreds of horses from the Free City of Astaphor and other places, and while the Unsullied didn't ride the navy forces took to it easily enough and there were plenty of instructors around willing to help train others to ride.
As for the troopers that made up the regiment they could fire an auto pistol while still controlling their mounts. The pistols had suppressors attached so as not to needlessly upset the horses, which were not bred as war mounts for the most part, and firing from horseback provided to be a good way of chasing down those that ran from the Unsullied. The pirates and slavers had few steeds.
"Ma'm we have an important prisoner for you" reported one of the veteran guardsmen from Cadia that she'd brought with her "She claims to be a noble of some importance".
During her discussions with the Lord-Captain, they'd decided what to do with anyone captured. The pirates and slavers would be shipped off to the Ad-Mech to be turned a varity of servitors that were needed for the building work as well as other laborious tasks. She had a feeling that lucky ones would meet quicker ends than becoming servitors, however, she didn't wish to dwell on that, if half the horror stories about the cogboys did to people were true then simply killing all of the scum would be a mercy.
As for the civilians, most of whom had been captured and enslaved by the criminals, they would enjoy a slightly better life under Imperial rule as surfs bound to serve the regiment or the Rogue Trader here on these islands, or be shipped off to Ameros. The Stepstones were rather pleasant if you didn't mind the pirates and slaves, they were tropical islands with clear blue waters filled with fish and land that could be farmed. Once cleared of the trash they could become quite productive.
"And who are you," asked Major Gwynenya Ionael of the possible VIP prisoner.
The captive didn't answer right away so the Guard officer supplied what information he could.
"Major, this 'noble' was found in one of the drinking establishments in the pirate town" he explained "She tried to kill one of my men, but she was too drunk to do much damage. Been drowning her sorrows I think".
The pirate women was very upset.
"You bastards sunk my ship with one of your flying machines" she complained.
Sinking all of the crude wooden vessels had been part of the planned conquests of these islands as it gave the scum no way to flee or reinforce each other, not that they seemed the type to care much for their neighbours. The Major knew that there was a lot of shipping in this part of the world so securing the trade lanes would be an important part of turning this world into a productive Imperial planet. Sure they would have sunk a few trading vessels while taking the islands, but once the conquest was over trade would flourish.
"And you are?" asked the Major.
Again the pirate didn't answer.
"Hang her" ordered Ionael.
That got the attention of the pirate.
"I'm Yara Greyjoy!" she called out.
That got the Major's attention.
"Wait a moment" she commanded.
The Greyjoys were the ruling family of someplace called the Iron Islands. Those islands were due to be conquered sooner or later and likely the Lord-General would want the raiders of those islands brutally crushed to ensure that they wouldn't rise during his rulership. Ionael couldn't have agreed more than plan. Scum like these pirates and raiders were worse than the xenos in her mind as the aliens at least hadn't betrayed their own kind. To turn your back on the Imperium made you only worthy of a painful death even if she often gave such slime a quick one for the sake of efficiency.
Yara Greyjoy almost got a quick death regardless of her family name, but Ionael had realised that this Yara would know a lot of the Iron Islands and this could be useful to the Lord-General when it came to invading this prisoner's home. The Priesthood might also wish to talk about the Iron Born in case their infidel faith contained any teachings he deemed too dangerous to be adapted into the worship of The Emperor. The Major had been to enough worlds to know that each culture worshipped his Divine Majesty in their own way and that not of those ways were harmless.
In the end, the Mayor decided to hand over the noblewomen to the Inquisitor, who was most qualified to handle such matters, he would break the pirate and learn anything she knew that was worth knowing before putting a bolt round into her skull. Or perhaps they let her live in case she had some use. If so then she'd be due for a nice, long mind cleansing.
This was the process often utilised by the Inquisition to remove things too dangerous for a person to know, or memories that were too dangerous to bare even for the strongest mind. In most of the cases when someone knew too much, the answer as far as the Inquisition is concerned is simple: death, be it a well-deserved execution or the blessing of the Emperor's Peace. But for a small number, a different solution is found, mental cleansing, a laborious process.
Through the combined use of specialised machines and telepathic intervention, some or all of the subject's memories are selectively erased and thought patterns altered. The resulting individual is then something of a blank slate to be rewritten, and in extreme cases, entire new personalities and skills are imprinted directly into the mind. The mind-cleansed are effectively reborn and remade in the image of the Inquisition's desire, complete with whatever implanted skills or personality traits are required.
Yara Greyjoy's memories of this world would too useful to destroy, but the more personal stuff could be removed and she could be made loyal to the Imperium or just kept as a bartering tool if the Greyjoys were deemed worthy of any diplomacy. The high ranking officer didn't care enough to ever find out which.
"Give her to the Inquisitor" ordered the Major "We have other matters to attended to".
These islands wouldn't conquer themselves.
(Line Break)
The Stepstones. The Summer Sea.
Having seen them from far above I could see how these islands could be considered a chain of sorts, linking the most eastern part of Dorne in Westeros and western parts what were called the Disputed Lands over in Essos. Since we intended to conquer both land masses in some form it made sense to take these islands as by doing so we would be greatly lessening the chances of nations on either side of the Narrow Sea from aiding each other. It would also give us the ability to limit shipping between Westeros and Essos.
Not that any alliance between the peoples of the two major landmasses was likely to happen given how divided the peoples of this world were even at the best of time, but keeping Westeros and Essos apart was only a side benefit. The other reasons for taking these islands were that they were divided, making them easy to conquer, and they were havens for pirate activity as well as slavers so no one would rush to their defence and any prisoners could be turned into servitors.
They would be able to put any kind of unified defence, giving us yet another advantage, and we did somewhat need to stack the deck in our favour as while we had a huge advantage in terms of technology, and we were unified under a common purpose, we were vastly outnumbered by the natives. Even with The Unsullied, we could be overwhelmed. Hence the need to take this world one part at a time.
I also knew that the Stepstones were often affected by storms that sank as many ships as the pirates. Not that either presented much of a problem for us since we had shuttles and landing craft so minor storms only made the ride a bit bumpy. As for the pirate ships they were targeted by the laser cannons on the support craft and when it came to the pirate dens we sent the Unsullied in with some guardsmen as a backup.
The only major in this part of the world was Tyrosh, which could be found in the easternmost part of the Stepstones, and it was the only real threat to my conquest of the Stepstones as no one else would be able to get any army here in time to do anything. If Westeros did make a move, which seemed unlikely, we'd have cleared the islands and dug in before they could arrive.
I knew Tyrosh to be a harbour city and that it could afford to hire a lot of sellswords, so they could be sent a fleet and armies at us and this stage of the conquest it could be trouble. But I doubted they'd do anything and even if they did their ships could just as easily be sunk as those belonging to the pirates and slavers who had infested these waters.
Other than that all I knew about Tyrosh was that it could be considered a mercantile city, where trade is very important, and considered a much more honourable profession than being a warrior, a good reason not to worry about that city sending men after us. Shortly after its founding, Tyrosh quickly grew into a rich city, due to the discovery of a certain variety of sea snail, what they did with the snail I had no real desire to find out. I did know that Tyrosh has at least one bank, but that wasn't important since I kept my growing wealth on my cruiser.
Perhaps I would attack Tyrosh one day as it was deeply involved in the slave trade, and Tyroshi slavers were known to be especially aggressive. They even sailed to the northern parts of Westeros beyond The Wall, in search of Free Folk to enslave. Slaves outnumber freeborn in Tyrosh three to one so I might look into funding a slave rebellion at some point. Assuming that the Lord-General didn't wish to conquer the city the old fashioned way when the time came.
I had recently landed here on the island known as Bloodstone, which I claimed for myself and I didn't think any of the other Imperials would mind since they all had the rest of the world to play in. Bloodstone would my personal little kingdom and the other islands extensions of it. I would have a fortress-palace built here and any tribute to paid to me would be stored here for when I returned to this world. But that would have to wait a while as those who would build such a structure would have better things to do.
As for this island's history, I knew that it was once the seat of Daemon Targaryen when he was the self-declared King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea.
Already I'd realised that conquering these islands would involve a lot of waiting as while my new regiment, the 2nd Thrax, had already been blooded they were far from a properly organised military force. Thankfully the Lord-General had sent one of his better officers here to oversee and organise the regiment. This left me free to manage matters as best I could, ensuring the supply lines were maintained all over the planet and to plan out how the islands could best be put to use once they were pacified. I was thinking about setting up some plantations.
My cruiser had months worth of supplies and the Ad-Mech could turn the bio-matter of distant jungles into ration packs, however, I'd rather not live on rations for the next couple of years and simply buying enough food would be too costly so I was going to supplement the rations with food grown on these islands. The least I owed the warriors fighting for the Imperium and me was a few hot meals.
"Is this really what war looks like?" Viserys Targaryen asked of me.
So far it seemed to be. I'd brought him down from the cruiser with his sister so that he could see what conquest really involved. So far all we'd done is sit around in a rather nice command tent and listen to the reports of the men who were doing the real fighting. Viserys would need to learn how to manage a war and his tutors could only teach him so much. Practical experience would serve him well.
Daenerys Targaryen was also here, and she seemed eager to learn, her tutors reported that she took her lessons well and seemed interested in the life of a Rogue Trader, having adapted quickly to living in space. No doubt she'd realised that as my wife she'd be more than a pretty face and broodmare, she would be one of my advisors and our children would carry on our great work in the centuries to come, plying to stars. That was something far greater than marrying some horse lord.
"You won't be a commanding knight and peasant levies in the future," I told Viserys who was harder to educate than his sister who has clearly gotten the better genes from their parents "You'll be commanding men with guns rather than swords and bows. Armies like that don't need their king charging into battle. You'd just get in the way. They need someone who can come up with a battle plan and make sure that they the tools to fight. Soilders need to be fed, to be sheltered, to have the proper equipment. Numbers matter, but so do the weapons your fighting men use and the support they are given".
If we had any contact with the space marine chapters they might be interested in recruiting young men raised among the nobility of this world who liked to swing a sword around, but the Imperial Guard valued men who would hold their line and keep firing a lasgun even with a massive swarm of Nids charging at them. A general in that kind of army doesn't lead from the front.
"As my ancestors used to say 'An army marches on its stomach'" I told the man who I might place in the Iron Throne "You need to understand how to feed and arm your men, and what troops are best sent where".
The Targaryens had fallen far if this boy who stood at my side as I looked over reports and maps was a descendant of Aegon The Conqueror. Perhaps Viserys needed reminding of who he was descended from.
"Your noble ancestor, Aegon, didn't just fly around Westeros burning anyone who got in his way," I told Viserys "He carefully planned his war and picked his battles".
While Bloodstone seemed secure the other islands would take weeks, perhaps even a month or more to claim as while the troops under my command were all fine soilders they were still learning to work together and the Ad-Mech needed more time to set up the means to support the conquests. This was why the Lord-General had not yet even left the Dothraki city, which was becoming a fortress city. He knew the value of proper preparations.
Of course, we were in no rush to conquer this world, but it could be a bit more thrilling. Hopefully, I'd be more entertained once the Stepstones were reasonable secure and I'd leave someone else to ensure the good work here carried on. The Islands would need to be transformed so that their resources could be exploited.
"Compliments of the Inquisitor" I was told by a stormtrooper who had just escorted a shackled woman into my tent "He has no further use to her and she might be useful to you when you deal with the savages. The Inquisitor had her mind-cleansed and suitably altered so she won't cause you any trouble".
I knew right away that this was Yara Greyjoy, the Lady of the Iron Islands and Lady Reaper of Pyke, the daughter and by the end of the show, the last surviving child of Balon Greyjoy, as well as the older sister and only surviving sibling of Theon Greyjoy. She was raised at Pyke, the stronghold of House Greyjoy. I knew Yara Greyjoy to be a fierce warrior and commands her own longship, only this version of her had clearly been broken. Much like her brother would have been at the hands of Ramsay Snow.
In the show, after the assassination of her father, Yara laid claim to the Iron Islands with her brother's support, but when the Ironborn captains chose her Uncle Euron, who murdered Balon, as their next king, she and Theon fleed with a portion of the Iron Fleet and their loyal followers.
Yara and Theon become allies with Daenerys Targaryen. Yara was then captured by her uncle when he attacked the Targaryen fleet, though she is later freed by Theon and their remaining loyalists. Intent on claiming the Salt Throne, Yara went on to sail what remains of her army to successfully retake the Iron Islands. After the assassination of Daenerys, Yara participated in the Great Council and consents to the choosing of Bran Stark as the new King of the Andals and the First Men. Not that this made any sense as she could have declared the Iron Island independent as Sansa Stark did with The North.
Now I had her in rags, kneeling on the ground before me, clearly, she'd been broken, and not just by technology, it was likely that the Inquisitors psyker Suzan, or another person with such a talent that the Inquisitor had hidden away on my ship, had altered her mind to make sure that she'd remain passive and loyal to me. Unlike brainwashing and other means of mind control she wouldn't revert because any part of her personality or memories that would make her anything less than the perfect follower wouldn't have been changed they'd have been removed. In a very real sense, this wasn't really Yara Greyjoy any more.
It wasn't impossible that a part of the women she was could somehow return, nothing is ever totally certain, but there were other ways to control someone, the heavy metal collar around her neck would most likely remove her head if she did anything drastic that she wasn't ordered to.
I did feel a bit bad about enslaving this woman, but not much since she was a pirate princess of sorts and so she'd have a lot of blood on her hands, still that didn't mean I should mistreat her and she might be useful if I ever needed to deal with the Iron Islanders. While she was not that attractive Rogue Traders did often end up with strange characters supporting them so why not a mind-cleansed, enslaved pirate princess from a backwater planet? At least she wasn't a horrid xenos.
"Missandei!" I called out.
I'd brought Missandei with me from Astophor, not to serve as a translator for me, since the Ad-Mech had teaching engines on my ship that could insert the understanding of a language directly into the mind, rather I'd brought her to serve as a handmaiden. Missandei was here to serve the Targaryen Princess. I didn't want Dany to get lonely.
"You called for me my lord?" asked the former slave as she entered my large tent.
Missandei was bound to me, but as a servant rather than a slave, which meant she got a little time off and even some pay.
"I'd like you to get this young lady cleaned up and dressed in something presentable" I ordered.
Yara Greyjoy would either prove useful to me or I'd cast her aside. There was always work to be done somewhere and as such there was a demand for labourers. If she annoyed me, well the Ad-Mech could always do with another servitor.
As for me, I had some more paperwork to handle and a prince to educate in matters of war.
(Line Break)
Vaes Dothrak. Esso.
No one knew how many Dothraki Screamers there were in the world, but they did know who commanded the biggest tribe and while that was not Khal Moro he would soon be one of the most famous warriors in Dothraki history, once he had liberated the only city that no Dothraki had ever sacked since it was their own. Vaes Dothrak had never before been conquered by outsiders and when Khal Moro killed the invaders he knew that for many generations to come his name would be told to the children in story for many generations to come. Men would name their sons after him and women would think of him as those sons were made.
That he would reclaim Vaes Dothrak was in no doubt in his mind. The invaders had built walls and they had men on those walls, and while in other battles this would be an issue for the Screamers, the foreigners had left a gap in their defences. Khal Moro was no fool, he suspected that this might have been done on purpose, but it wouldn't matter if he managed to charge enough of his warrior through the gap. Once inside the city it wouldn't matter how tall or strong these walls were. The invaders would be slaughtered and any who weren't would be made slaves.
Little he did know that the leader of the invaders was hoping he'd do just that. Khal Moro knew nothing of mines or mortars or heavy weapon emplacements, he could not imagine what he was about to charge into, and he wouldn't live long enough to learn from what was about to happen. All he could do was lead the charge because even if he had understood how poor his chances of victory actually were it didn't matter. Even if he backed down then one of his own warriors would simply challenge him, thinking him a coward and once that happened it would only be a matter of time before some challenger did end him and the new Khal would simply charge on the city in the hopes of earning glory.
With his path fixed Moro signalled for the charge. To begin with, it went well, the Screamers moved with greater coordination than was to be expected, and their morale was high, right up until they rode straight into the minefield. The first death was that of a blood rider who in his eagerness had set off slightly before his Khal's horse had begun to move. His eagerness was not rewarded as the blood rider become the first man from this world to be killed by a landmine, which scattered parts of him across the grasses.
The horses, bred and trained to carry warriors into battle, did not understand what was happening and began to panic as more mines were encountered and even with their riders doing their best to keep their mounts under control, this only resulted in more losses as the minefield was wide. Had the charge remained more organised the mines would have been less effective. Alas for the Dothraki they simply didn't know how to cope with what they saw as magic.
This proved to matter little in the wider scope of the battle as by now the Screamers had entered the range of the mortars which began to rain death upon those riders who had grouped too closely together rather than scatter. Khal Moro tried to keep things organised, but the momentum of the charge kept many of them moving towards the city as if reaching it would offer some sort of safety.
Quite the opposite was true was while the fire from laser rifles wouldn't be accurate given the distances involved the invaders had other weapons with much greater range, and these further depleted the ranks of riders until they began to really scatter. This was when Moro realised that his tribe was doomed. Even if they retreated with enough Screamers to do battle again he would be blamed for this defeat since he was the leader and as such he would not be Khal for much longer.
Now he could only die in battle, he charged and died seconds later when he entered the effective weapon's range of the laser rifles held by the invaders and took dozens of shots in a second. A single laser blast could be deadly to an unarmed human and he was struck by more than ten so what was left of him would only make a meal for the scavenging beasts. The bloodrides, those who should have avenged his death were soon to join their leader as the deadly red beams brought an end to their lives.
In the days to come, the once-mighty khalasar would fracture into many smaller warbands and many slaves would flee, and while the invaders had no desire to battle with the khalasars out in the great grass sea the disorganised bands that had no direction and poor leadership would be easy prey for their metal machines. In time other Khals would come to try to reclaim the city and they do would also suffer an overwhelming defeat while the invaders only grew stronger.