Horosska was pleased with their new home, although she hadn't been at first.
They had been taken to a far away land. Nothing was like what she was used to… even the plants were different, not the grassy ferns they were used to. Many of them had hard stalks, very thick and the Silver People said they were similar to trees. They had beautiful blooms though, which was pleasing. That had been difficult, though, because Horosska had no idea how to hunt here.
But they were not bothering to hunt from the land, mostly. Instead they were looking to the sea. They had been settled on a beautiful bay with fine white sand and in the waters was precious food, great teeming hordes of fish. They had to learn to fish properly, using spears, but the Silver People helped and also showed them how to make hooks. They knew of hooks, their people used them, but as a grassland tribe the Anaut had never needed to make them before.
Valdar and Casimir went further than that, though. With the assistance of the other Silver People and a great deal of trial and error, they found a plant that could be stripped down and turned into rope. The People had used something similar, with tanned leather strips, but leather had sharp limits since it did badly in the rain. The Silver People claimed that true rope would be very useful. All of the tribe watched curiously as the Silver People patiently worked, creating something of great interest.
The first thing they created was snares. Horosska was shocked and deeply interested in this form of hunting, which apparently Valdar and Casimir had only heard of… they hadn't known how to do this before, the other Silver People had shown them. The tribe was dubious but they were quickly converted when the first animal was caught, a small chittering thing. Virtually nothing really, just a tid-bit of food, but the snares could be re-used again and again! And what else could they do with rope?
The answer was nets. The tribe was hard at work now, making the rope and while Horosska was busy fishing, she observed the process with amazement. A third Silver Person named Cahir showed them how to turn the ropes into nets, that could be used to scoop fish out of the water. It was not necessarily easy but if you did it just right, you could bring in a great haul of fish. The fish here were a soft purple color and looked very different than what Horosska had seen before, but they were wonderfully tasty.
It was one of the youngsters who dared to ask an interesting question.
"Valdar, Casimir? How do we go to the stars?" she asked, bright eyed and hopeful. Horosska blinked… that was surely impossible, the Silver People might not be magic but the things they could do might as well be. Casimir tilted his head before looking at Valdar. They were silent for a long moment. Consulting with someone else?
"The trip to the stars is a long one, but it begins with a single step. Be open, be curious. Look around you and try to learn," Valdar finally said. "Try to make things. Try to advance." That was vague though.
"Do you have anything concrete? What would you say is the best step?" Horosska asked and there was another silence as the Silver People thought about it.
"We have a word. Tame. It means when an animal is willing to let you touch them, let you hold them, let you feed them and use them for work," Casimir said and Horosska had never heard of such a thing before. Animals that could be used for work? "Put prey animals in pens. See which ones will accept your touch. Kill the wild ones, breed the tame ones, so they become more tame. Learn to grow food for them, so you can feed them and keep them. Then, when you need food, there they are."
"That is why you should do this. The first step on the path to the stars is when you no longer need to worry about food," Valdar said as the tribe murmured to each other. "When there is no need to hunt, when food is just outside your door, then you have time to make new things. Securing food is the first step to the stars." That… did make sense. How could you have time to think about new things with an empty belly? "Also, do not be discouraged if a prey animal cannot be tamed. Release it and try with a different animal. It may take several tries before you find just the right one."
"We will try it. Now is a good time for that," Horosska decided. They had plenty of food from the sea, that would give them luxury to try new and strange things. And all the animals of this place were new, they had to learn about them anyway so why not? "Raising food for them… raising plants?" She had caught that. The Silver People nodded.
"Our people ate plants as well as animals, so we learned to grow plants for our own food, as well as our tame animals. But you can learn to grow them for the animals." Horosska decided not to point out that her people had actually done something like that… it was well known that the prey animals on the plains loved a particular bulb and would pause to dig it out. So her people had sometimes cultivated the bulbs before planting them in particular spots, so they would know where the prey would go. It worked quite well and they made many kills that way. So they knew a bit of how to grow plants… although, wouldn't they want a tame prey animal to mostly eat grasses? That would be less work.
It was all fascinating and Horosska felt like the tribe was making solid progress, building fine huts from the surrounding greenery and living off the largess of the sea. Several of them went into a mating time… Horosska herself was well past that, but was pleased when one of her daughters went into her time. There would be many younglings as the tribe began to grow.
Then came a very sad time, when they had to say goodbye.
"Our ship has arrived. It is time for us to go," Valdar said as Rosska, one of the children he had carried, hugged Casimir and begged him not to go. Casimir gently patted her on the head and murmured soothing words as the whole tribe felt dejected. They could carry on quite well without the Silver People, they had learned how to make the rope, the snares and the nets, but it was still ill news. Horosska was sure that with their help, efforts on taming animals would be easier and more successful.
Casimir picked up Rosska, giving her a hug, and that encouraged the other children. They clustered around and the Silver People gently gave them all hugs and pats. Casimir, in particular, praised many of them by name… he loved children, far more than Valdar.
Horosska went to Valdar and quietly thanked him. Valdar had her deepest respect, with his quiet competence and care for the tribe. Casimir had her respect as well, for his compassion and kindness and she thanked him too. Yasska also added her thanks, as the entire tribe bid them farewell.
Then a third Silver Person arrived, that they had never seen before, and Casimir reacted with surprise and a raised voice. Horosska could not understand the words but the body language of the new Silver Person indicated good humor as he responded and then they clanked their hands together? Horosska looked at Valdar and he seemed to feel her gaze and looked at her before explaining.
"This is our new third, Harris. He is an old friend of Casimir. It is a great relief to me." Ah! Yes, it would be. Then they left and Horosska wished them well. Hopefully they would have long and healthy lives, far in the stars. Meanwhile, the tribe would try to take the first steps.
It would not happen in her lifetime, or even her granddaughters, but perhaps someday they could also go to the stars.
Oliosa Daphana shivered a little as she knelt under the glowing eyes of cold metal constructs, a hand pressed tightly to her swollen belly. Her purple skin was very pale, an almost lilac shade, from the time she had spent on the pirate ships.
She had once belonged to the Captain of this particular ship, his personal concubine. She'd been fed contraceptives, yet still the pregnancy had come. Oliosa knew the pirates found it disgusting… they would fuck abhumans, but actual hybrids revolted them. So she had immediately been discarded, dumped into the bowels of the ship to live or die. Fortunately for Oliosa, her aunt had also been swept up to be a ship whore and they had found each other, along with a few more distant male relatives. They had survived together, working hard to be deemed worthy of being fed.
Then the metal xenos, like nothing she had ever seen, had invaded the ship. Oliosa had huddled with her aunt as they quietly prayed to the old gods, the feathered serpent, the bear and the vulture. They pretended to worship the Emperor, but only because the pirates did. In private, they hewed to the old ways.
(the Inquisition would immediately have recognized this as worship of the Chaos Gods. Although they would have been a touch puzzled that it was only three, not four)
Perhaps their prayers had reached something, because the metal monsters had spared them. Now though, they were being dragged out to be examined and split into groups. Oliosa had no idea why, what would become of them, and shivered again.
Finally it was her turn. The xenos that examined her was different from the others… he had only a single eye, and what seemed to be a sculpted beard of metal and glyphs. He wore a hood of metal, that Oliosa wasn't sure about. Was it detachable or part of his head? Plaques of metal swung from his arms as he gently touched her chin, lifting up her face to see her more clearly. Oliosa shuddered at the touch of cold metal, tears prickling her eyes.
"You are reproducing," the alien said and Oliosa swallowed, her throat feeling dry. She hadn't wanted this baby of course, but she had felt the little one kicking inside her and become attached to it. And the child was so close to being born, it was much too late for any kind of abortion. The metal xenos tilted his head to one side, thinking about something? Then he gestured to one of the other metal xenos, who escorted her to one of the groups. As he did, Oliosa tried to puzzle out what was different about the three groups.
As the selections continued, Oliosa thought she understood… one group, the smallest of the three, was the old and damaged. The second group was the largest, the general population of the ship. The third group, that she was part of, made Oliosa a bit afraid because they were all physically attractive. Not just women, men too, but she could see with just a glance that they were all comely. Yet, what use did cold metal xenos have for that? Although Oliosa knew nothing of this species.
Oliosa did not notice, none of them did, as they were gently and quietly introduced to Mindshackle scarabs. In this case, the scarabs were mainly meant to promote calm among the prisoners, to dampen their natural reactions of fear and revulsion. Depending on the circumstances, some of the new pleasure caste might be given constant euphoria, but they were hoping to avoid that. The damage to mental functions really was quite severe. Reversable, but still severe.
Oliosa knew none of this and no one was explaining anything to them. The old and damaged vanished, she did not know where… Oliosa hoped they had not been killed. The other two groups were taken into the lunar station and given quarters and food. They were being constantly monitored by little metal scarabs… Oliosa didn't say it to anyone else, but she thought the small constructs were actually rather cute.
For over a month, nothing happened. Then they were ushered out and put on a ship. It was very unlike the pirate ship Oliosa had known, scrupulously clean and very tightly made, full of automation. Oliosa knew very little about anything, she was just a farm girl taken to be a concubine, but she knew the pirates did not do things this way. They used brute force labor for so many things that this ship did not.
The ship, to her astonishment, was crewed by humans. They were almost uniformly dark of skin and hair, with brown eyes. They were quite curious about her people but it was hard for them to communicate… they spoke a language that sounded like Low Gothic, but was different. A few of them knew Low Gothic, but only a few.
(this ship had been commandeered from the local Hopian PDF forces. As such, most of the crew on it had no intention of ever leaving Hope and no particular interest in learning Low Gothic. Most of them were fluent in the necron language instead)
(generally speaking, that was the priority of languages on Hope… Terran, Necron and then Low Gothic)
One thing they had brought with them was a small medical team and Oliosa was glad of that because just a week after they were underway, her water broke. Her aunt held her hand as a nurse who could speak her language gently reassured her and eventually told her to push. Oliosa was in no pain – a strange injection had taken all the pain away, leaving only the burning need to push – and she did that, working hard to bring her son or daughter into the world.
After a few hours of gentle attention, Oliosa felt her child slide free and heard the wail of a newborn babe. Feeling breathless but very grateful, Oliosa watched as the doctor and nurses gently dried her baby and tied the cord.
"Congratulations, you have a daughter," the nurse said, beaming and Oliosa gently took the child in her arms, seeing the soft lilac skin. A quick check showed her the baby did not have the ridged foreheads of their people, but she did have six fingers. That made Oliosa happy… the child mostly resembled her. Perhaps it would have been better for the babe that she did not look so clearly like a mutant but for her own peace of mind, Oliosa did not want to be reminded of the man who had fathered her.
"Aliana," Oliosa said and saw her aunt smile… that was her grandmother's name. Her aunt gently hugged them both.
"She is beautiful," she said as the crew gave them a bit of time to themselves, cleaning up a bit as they enjoyed the moment. Oliosa gazed into her daughter's blue eyes, feeling an incredible surge of love. This was her daughter, her precious Aliana. She would do anything to protect her, anything.
They were returned to their quarters, with a bit of bedding for the babe. Oliosa spent most of her time with her aunt, mastering the art of taking care of a child as a new mother. Fortunately the humans aboard the ship had known about her pregnancy and they had everything she needed, diapers and blankets and formula. Oliosa did not need it, feeding came easily to her, but she was thankful for the support.
"What are they going to do with us…" her aunt murmured, under her breath. Oliosa shook her head. She had no idea, but also thought it wasn't worth worrying about.
"We will find out when we find out." Were they going to be servants for these dark skinned humans? Or for the metal xenos? Whatever fate was in store for them, it would surely involve servitude.
They started to find out when they reached a strange new world called Hope. Oliosa was wide-eyed as she saw a city like nothing she had seen before. She knew of such places, from the pirates. They had often mocked their slaves as uncivilized brutes, hardly better than animals, and boasted about the superior civilization of true humans. Oliosa had thought it just hot air, arrogance from those scarcely above them, but now she believed it to be true.
"Oh Oliosa, look, look!" her aunt said and Oliosa followed her pointing finger, gasping as she saw the great floating thing. What was it for? An advertisement dazzled her, for some kind of holo drama? Oliosa saw a view of space – very familiar to her – and a great flowing creature space creature that somehow resembled a butterfly. What was that? There were words on the screen but she could not understand them.
Oliosa looked at everything, as they flew over the city… she saw on the tops of many of the buildings were little gardens, some meant to be rest areas but others growing fresh food. She saw as the tall buildings became shorter and stubbier, many of them putting out smoke. Industrial area? Her people had hardly any industry but they did have a bit. And then the smaller dwellings that she identified as family homes. This looked almost familiar. But where were they going?
They were going to an estate on the far outskirts of the town. A sprawling building, built in a ranch style, it made Oliosa almost feel at home. They were all ushered off the transport and given quarters, small but tidy and comfortable, well furnished. Oliosa's even had a picture, a print of a lovely basket of flowers. And waiting for her was a crib filled with soft blankets.
Then they were all summoned to a great room with parquet floorings and many, many windows. Oliosa glanced around, taking in the beauty of it… the walls were white, with golden accents and the windows had large, beautiful draperies in a teal blue. They were held in place with golden cords. The ceiling, when she glanced at it, was plain white and inset. At the far end of the room was a dais that puzzled her. What was it for?
"A ballroom. This is a ballroom," her aunt murmured and Oliosa blinked. "I saw this once, at the great manor." Oh, that was right, her aunt had been a maid for the ruling family for a time before the pirates had taken her. The ancient royalty of their world had little power, acting mostly as minions for the pirates and now, presumably, for their new xenos lords. "I wonder who this belongs to? Surely not the xenos?" Oliosa glanced around again. Would metal aliens engage in ballroom dancing? And even if they did, surely their ballrooms would not look like this?
Such silly thoughts fled as four strangers came into the room. Four humans, and two of the metal xenos. Oliosa swallowed as she looked at them… the humans were not particularly imposing. An older man in a warm tweed jacket and matching pants, with a neat shirt and tie. His skin was a light brown and his hair was dark and thick. The way he took the lead indicated he was the leader of the group. With him were two younger men, both also very neatly dressed, and a young woman. She was gloriously beautiful, wearing black tights and a matching leotard. Her skin was very dark and her hair was long and thick, a beautiful shade of black. The two xenos were a large, imposing, masculine one with a headdress set with rubies and washed with gold. The other made Oliosa stare, because she had not imagined the xenos had females yet now, she knew they most certainly did. A beautiful, statuesque figure of bronze and black, her eyes glowed with green fire in a face that was almost, but not quite human. The man in the tweed jacket clapped his hands together and spoke. By some mechanical sorcery, his voice was projected so they all could hear.
"Greetings! I am Professor Isla Duleth. You must be wondering why you are here. Well, I will be explaining… first, let me tell you a bit about the xenos species you will be serving, the Necrons." Ah, so they would be servants to the aliens. Oliosa had thought so. "Once, the Necrons were flesh and blood, and had the name of necrontyr. They were forced by their leaders and gods to take bodies of metal, but this was very much not by choice and as such, they are attempting to reclaim their past." Oliosa wondered what it was like, going from having a flesh and blood body to becoming a metal creature. "The ancient necrontyr had a caste system. You have been chosen to revitalize the servant and pleasure castes." …Pleasure?
"I will detail the duties of both. The servant caste will consist of many things… firstly, personally attending to your necron masters. That could include buffing their bodies, applying unguents, assisting them with putting on festival gear, whatever they require." Oliosa doubted they needed much help with that. Surely the cute little insects could do it? Perhaps they just wanted the personal attention. "The more intelligent among you, however, will be taught administrative skills. Budgeting, for instance, so you can assist in audits. We are still developing that program but those chosen for it will act as personal aides to powerful Lords. Do well, and you will be rewarded." The man paused and Oliosa caught a slight hint of discomfort before he squared his shoulders and launched into the next.
"For you ladies, you will largely be assisting in the recreation of the pleasure caste. That ancient caste was for both entertainers and ah, sexual partners." What?! Oliosa swallowed as several of them murmured. Yet, they all seemed to be taking it strangely calmly, she noticed. She would have expected at least a few of them to break down in tears or otherwise panic. "You will be taught the expected behavior and fashions, and in particular, you will all be trained on the ancient necrontyr dances of the pleasure caste. Any of you with talent will be taught their music and art. While it will be your duty to be pliant and accepting, I want to reassure you: The Stormlord has dictated that you be given a special rank of pwi-commoner. That means that any necron Lord who dares abuse you can suffer dire consequences." Oliosa noted he said can suffer, not would suffer. She assumed some of them would be in a position to hide their crimes.
"I don't know about this… although I suppose it's a positive that harming us will be considered a crime…" her aunt murmured under her breath and Oliosa nodded. On the pirate ship, it hadn't been. They were just whores to be used and abused and tossed aside. It sounded like the xenos wanted something more formal.
"Now, the first step to all of this is very simple: We will teach you the Necron language. Once you have the basics down, all conversations and lessons will be conducted in that tongue. We want you to be extremely fluent as while most Lords can speak low Gothic, they vastly prefer their own language." Understandable. Oliosa was a bit daunted though. She had never learned another language. "Let me introduce you to everyone…" Then he began introducing the other humans and the necrons. The men, it turned out, were teachers in the arts of linguistics. The woman was a dancer, named Anastasia, and she would be teaching them the ancient dances. The two necrons were Lord Osatek, but he was only there because of his wife, Anhomqena. Oliosa was fascinated to find out these aliens could be wed… she would never have guessed it, when seeing the machines and cold steel. Anhomqena was introduced as a former member of the ancient pleasure caste, who could teach them the expected behavior and dances with Anastasia. As they spoke, little Aliana burbled unhappily and Oliosa lifted her up, adjusting her clothing to feed the little one. As she did, a thought came to her.
"What of me, and my child? Will I be assigned to a Lord…?" she asked, thinking it strange and unlikely. Surely the metal xenos would not want to be troubled by her child? It was Anhomqena who responded.
"In the ancient pleasure caste, a mother was expected to tend to her child until weaning. Then the child would go to the creches as the mother returned to her duties, being watched and tended to by the older females of the pleasure caste. Such children are trained early in the duties of the pleasure caste, beginning to learn their dancing and assisting their elders in tending to their Lords. This will be roughly what we expect for you… a planet in the same system as our seat of power is being terraformed, so you can be settled there. We expect you to have families and tend to them, as you provide pleasure for our Lords." Oh. So, she would have at least a year completely uninterrupted with her babe. Possibly two or three, if she was lucky.
Oliosa wasn't sure about all of this, but she had little choice in the matter. As they were separated into groups – different classes, each with an instructor – Oliosa wondered how it would all turn out. What would this new world they were making for them be like?
She would have to see.
Far away, on Perdita.
Zarathusa was pleased with the state of his Dynasty. With the civil war won, he was rebuilding their shattered worlds. The Plasmancers were working towards the goal of fully reclaiming their solar technology, and already making good progress. Zarathusa was confident they would have all the mirrors rebuilt in roughly fifty years. Not that he intended to use them, but they would be an extremely effective deterrent to anyone who thought to attack them.
Zarathusa had, overall, decided that the Mephrit Dynasty would be isolationist. He was not a particularly fierce war leader and had little desire to lengthen his reach. Instead, he would concentrate on creating beautiful worlds and also, begin trading with Imotekh to have his subjects resouled. That would wait until the battle of the Pariah Nexus was over, though. Because he had a soul, Zarathusa would certainly die if Imotekh failed, but he cared for the Dynasty and had designated his successor if that came to pass.
All of that was progressing well, until Ahthap came to him with a concern.
"I know it might be a bit difficult, but could we arrange to have a few more slave girls?" Ahthap said with an air of wistfulness. Zarathusa snorted at the thought.
"Are the two we have not enough for you?" he jibed and was actually startled as Ahthap visibly drooped.
"One soon." Oh. "Poor Kamia… this is my fault. I knew the way we were using the Mindshackle Scarabs on them would largely prevent them from feeling pain. I only noticed when she started… started… well, unfortunately, she has a growth." Zarathusa felt frozen as memories of the Flesh Times ran through his mind. So many of his relatives, including his own father, had been claimed by the Curse of the Bitter Star. "The symptom I finally noticed is rather… well, anyway, it's very important to catch these things early and we didn't. I don't think she has very long."
"Ahthap, just spit it out. What was the symptom you noticed?" Ahthap was dancing around something.
"Er, bleeding from her anus," he finally admitted and Zarathusa felt a bit of disgust, but mostly concern. That did indeed sound like something serious. "And when I briefly pulled back the scarab, to see if she was in pain, she screamed… after that I put her through several tests and well. It's not good. Most of our medical knowledge is lost, but I don't think she has very long."
"Tragic. She's quite young," Zarathusa murmured. The slave girl was perhaps thirty at the most. That was a decent age for a necrontyr but quite young for a human, who could routinely live into their seventies. "I will see about acquiring some more from Imotekh or possibly the Nihilakh Dynasty." They would have no bones about trading away some of their slaves. The Stormlord was more careful to observe local customs, so he would only trade those who had been condemned to slavery by the laws of their own people. "Perhaps we can make contact with a Rogue Trader," Zarathusa mused. That would give them a much larger pool to draw from. For a moment, he regretted exterminating the humans on Perdita… but they had attacked first, when the necrons began awakening and coming to the surface and in his dream of the past, Zarathusa had thought them his rebellious subjects and responded as such. He had taken these two girls as concubines because they had appeared to be prominent among the 'rebels' and thus, highly suitable to join his harem. Pushing thought of that away – his logic had been so odd back then – Zarathusa focused on Ahthap again.
"You have my leave to spend time with her, for as long as she remains." Who knew what the slave girl actually felt about this but in her hazed mental state, she would appreciate Ahthap's presence. And the Starsworn himself was surprisingly gentle and kind. Ahthap's destructive capabilities were almost ludicrous but Zarathusa could remember that back in the Flesh Times, he would refuse to use them on an unworthy target. It had almost gotten him in trouble, once or twice.
"Thank you Phaeron, I appreciate it," Ahthap said with a bow and showed himself out. Zarathusa was left in his throne room and he contemplated it. How to make contact with a Rogue Trader? There were a few outposts, pirate nests really, where members of various factions could meet and mingle for trade. Perhaps he would send a ship to one and see if they could make contact. While he was doing that, he would send messages to Nihilakh and Sautekh.
Zarathusa wasn't interested in such things for himself, anymore, but Ahthap deserved a reward for his loyal service.
Imotekh read the reports of a newly claimed world with a bit of interest.
It was within the Sautekh sphere of influence and unclaimed by the Imperium of Man, because it was unknown to them. The reason for that was the deadly dangerous phenomenon of a wandering Warp Storm. That made travel via the Warp virtually impossible and if the Imperium had remembered this world at all, they had likely written it off to Chaos.
Necron FTL travel didn't care about Warp Storms. Well, mostly didn't care about them… it was wise to avoid charting a course going directly through one, as the rip in reality they represented could have strange and unpredictable effects. But cutting through the outer edges rarely caused a problem and the currents that gave Warp ships so much difficulty were meaningless to them. So as the Warp Storm had pulled back a bit, the necrons had found this world.
As might be expected, it was badly tainted with Warp energies. Once it had been an Imperial colony, from the faded remnants of the worship of the Emperor, but that time was long past. Now it was a world in constant shadow, unclaimed by any of the Ruinous Powers but bedeviled by lesser monsters. The humans on it had been driven close to extinction, confined to tiny portions of the ruins of ancient cities as they struggled to survive. Nothing around them was safe and that made any food production difficult.
Imotekh didn't need to give any instructions, the Sector Governor had already acted swiftly to permanently claim the world. The necrons had hit it hard and fast, spiking it with blackstone pillars. That had of course enraged the daemonic powers and they had tried to stop the relentless spread of cold metal and blackstone, but they had been incredibly disorganized. Imotekh snorted at the descriptions… it made Abaddon look like a competent commander! Then he stopped, suspicion touching his mind. Was it perhaps too disorganized, even for random Chaos?
He quickly detailed a larger force to go to the planet, fully armored with blackstone, to root out the resistance. Imotekh had nothing to base his feelings on, but he thought there was more going on here than met the eye, perhaps a deep rot in the planet. Then he thoughtfully added a few hybrid ships… if things went badly sour, they could just evacuate the remaining humans and destroy the planet. While Imotekh believed in taking interstellar real estate intact, he made an exception for badly Chaos corrupted worlds. Once they were actually taken by Chaos, it was nearly impossible to retake them and they would become a constant source of infection. Better to nip it in the bud, even if it meant sacrificing a bit.
In other news, another mystery was solved… after a long and thorough investigation, to ensure they caught everyone involved, multiple cults of Nurgle had been rooted out and burned. The shipments of alcohol had been a blind, covering shipments of Corpse Flowers. The unfortunately named plant was in fact just a plant… Imotekh knew now, from the records of Hope, that it was an ancient Terran flower with the stench of a corpse. That was because it was specifically adapted to be fertilized and spread by corpse eating insects. Just a plant, nothing odd and uncanny.
Unfortunately for the Corpse Flower, it was a perfect symbol for Nurgle and had been adopted as such. It was banned throughout the Imperium and also the Sautekh Empire, except for a few samples kept for research and preservation. Nonetheless, an underground trade in it flourished, for Nurgle cultists and foolish sorcerers looking to invoke that power. Amusingly, the Hopian botanists had requested the plants. With the shipments seized, a few had been preserved via stasis before being sent to Hope. They would soon be the centerpieces of proper, botanical gardens, carefully tended by dedicated professionals.
Imotekh carefully reviewed all the trade networks, looking for anymore anomalies. That was often how things came to light… some small error, a tiny mistake but like a little piece of loose yarn, when you pulled on it the whole fabric unraveled. This time, however, he found nothing and that was pleasing. Aside from the constant back and forth attacks from Szarekh, everything was going well in his empire.
He had no idea how wrong he was, but that is for another chapter.