"Welcome, Domina," the marine boomed, his massive frame made even larger than usual for an Astartes, his voice echoing off of the metal girdings of his workshop deep within the Novamarine's chapter barracks.
"Thank you…" Nesot Vakyon paused, scanning for the man's name once again. "Toraen Invicteas. Your summon was unexpected."
"Such is the nature of our work," he replied dryly. "The Omnissiah leaves little time for sureties."
The tech priest almost smiled at the man's words. He was a true servant of the Mecanicus, that much was clear. This, finally, was someone she could relate to.
"I have a query," Toraen continued, all the while one of the limbs branching off of his Servo-Harness worked the keys of a nearby data slate.
Nesot approved of the marine's ability to multitask.
"Ask," she allowed, situating herself across from him in the workshop and plugging herself into a powerstation the man had obviously brought out for her to make use of.
"Have you encountered this signature before?"
The techmarine gestured towards a large vid screen, onto which a pattern of waves and symbols flickered.
"Processing…" Nesot replied, but this was a lie.
She knew all too well what she was looking at. It was a textbook example of an Aeldari wraithbone craft. Indeed, on her way here, she had been studying it, looking for anything that might confirm to her suspicion that Iaxrak VI held some importance to that species.
And now here it was.
"I have," she admitted after a while, after she had decided what she was going to do.
"And?" the marine inquired.
"Have you shown this to anyone else?"
"I have not."
Perfect.
"Toraen Invicteas," she said then, scanning him, "I take you for a true servant of the Omnissiah. Am I wrong?"
The Novamarine turned to her, and while she could not see his face, she knew what his expression was.
"I am, Domina," he told her, emphasizing his point by banging one of his mailed fists against the skull and cog emblem on his chest.
"Then you must listen to me."
The tech priest left the workshop an hour later, feeling confident that she could rely on the techmarine and his loyalty to the Mechanicus to keep the information he had shared with her a secret.
She had rationalized to him that there are already Orks on this planet, and there were rumours on the local data-network of potential Tau meddling, and the last thing the world needed was more unrest. So, until their know more, she had told him, it was better to keep it quiet for now.
Better for her too.
"Yes, Domina," he had replied.
That she had had to pull rank on him to make this happen didn't bother her, but did signal a shift in her thinking, in what she was willing to do, and risk, to achieve her aims. There would be repercussions to this, she knew. But she was ready and willing to accept them.
The four individuals sat, and ate, and drank, and were waited on by more servants and maids and attendants than anyone who lived on Iaxrak VI could have imagined. But to this trio, it was business as usual.
Except, today, it wasn't.
"I can't believe it," the first said, a man of small stature but impressive bearing.
This was Rulf Naxxis, head of House Naxxis, who's domain included the vast manifactoriums and processing facilities on Iaxrak VI. It was at his grand manor that the group was meeting.
"I can," scoffed the second, a large woman who looked old, and tired, despite her many attempts to appear otherwise. "She's been a mess since the boy died."
This was Bitty Qeenat, sovereign of House Qeenat, who oversaw all mining operations on the planet.
"Yes, a mess," replied the third, who was quickly echoed by the fourth.
"A mess, yes."
These were Aspecine and Augustus Bratoon, twin rulers of House Bratoon, who claimed control over the hive's shipping, despite everyone knowing just how little control they had. Indeed, most of what came in and out of the city ran through the hands of the Von Stromms. Or those of others, depending on the cargo.
"She's done," Bitty snorted, before helping herself to another ornately decorated pastry from the diminishing pile in front of her.
"Done," the Bratoon's agreed.
"And yet…" Rulf interrupted. "And yet she remains."
Of all of them, House Naxxis was the real threat to Feronnika's power, and both she and Rulf knew it. So did the others. And these days, as the current head of the spire paraded down the avenues, whipping up the crowds with a call for justice, it made him unease.
"What of these rumours?" Bitty asked, changing the subject as she finished off the dessert in her hand, already eyeing another. "That the sun has come out because of a child?"
Rulf had heard them, in the prattle of servants and the gossip of merchants, and had even consulted the Deacon about it, but Balphus Jaurvir had waved it off as if it were nothing. Which meant, of course, that there was something to them.
"Isn't it strange?" Augustus said.
"Very strange," Aspecine agreed.
The Bratoons were the worst kind of people, but they were also loyal. Loyal to anyone who held power. Loyal to anyone who could advance their position. They were no threat to him or house Naxxis. Bitty on the other hand…
"I think we need to appeal to the Governor," the woman added, between bites of her fourth pastry.
Was it her fourth or fifth? Rulf couldn't recall. How she disgusted him.
"We shall have to wait and see what happens," he told the group, rising.
Taking matters to the Governor was not something to be done lightly, and Rulf wanted to make sure that House Naxxis' position was as strong as it could be before he made his move.
"Some of us can afford to wait longer than others!" Bitty laughed, mostly to herself, mostly at herself.
Aspecine and Augustus laughed too, though it was unclear whether or not they had understood the joke.
[to be continued...]