- Past - Desert planet - Astra Militarum Fortress
First meeting with Kunrad Voigtvir -
"Captain Noraves, I'm here to retrieve the specialist Elena Martyr from you", said Kunrad Voigtvir suavely. "Here you will find the authorization signed by your General, acknowledging that the specialist needs to be placed in my custody, to be brought before Her Ladyship Theodora von Valancius." He paused, smirking slightly. "I believe everything is in order … ?"
Captain Noraves was everything you would expect the Astra Militarum to be : bleak, determined, and wary of any strangers trying to mix in their internal affairs. The tall, broad-shouldered man shuffled through the administrative papers the servitor following Kunrad delicately posed in front of him.
He looked a bit puzzled, as he glanced up from the paper to have a look at Kunrad once more, and his expensive and luxurious equipment. Novares was smart enough to have survived a long time, from a Guard's perspective. He knew how to recognize trouble when he saw it. The slender man in front of him may wear luxurious clothes, but he could tell how everything remained practical. The plasma pistol at his hip allowed no doubt on his resources. His face was heavily scarred. Claws, if the Captain had to guess. Ashy, whitish locks of hair softened the face of Voigtvir and contributed to his suave and polite demeanor, despite the scarring and the weapons telling another story entirely.
" Of course, Master Voigtvir. The specialist will be given to your care shortly", he replied. He was not going to ask any other questions. He did not want to know why a Rogue Trader would even wish for Elena Martyr's company. With high-ups, curiosity always kills the cat. Plus, losing Elena was…well, from a tactical point of view, it was unfortunate for her squad, of course…and a loss for the whole platoon…battle-psykers were very precious, tactically speaking…but deep down, somehow, it was also a relief. He would not miss having her strange, intense dark eyes boring in his skull and wondering what she saw inside of his own mind. And he would certainly not miss the feeling of being shunned from his own command when the psyker came into play. Of course, sergeant Orlon would be upset. The man had taken a shine to his unit and managed to integrate her into his squad, despite the initial mistrust of his men. But besides Orlon, no one would truly miss Elena Martyr.
Noraves waved his hand and sent his servitors to the door of his office, to bring in Elena, who was waiting in his antichamber. Novares had hated to find her just outside of his office, with her usual stern and intense attitude, waiting patiently. When he'd asked why she was here, she simply replied that "surely he would have need of her shortly and she stood by for orders." He loathed the way the psyker always seemed on to something he didn't know. It wasn't right.
Kunrad's face was unreadable. Looking at him was like looking at the light dancing on the edge of a knif e. I don't know what the psyker did to put herself in between these claws, but I do not wish to be in her place right now, thought the captain. However polite and graceful this Voigtvir acted, he could practically smell the predator under his demeanor. Better be off with them quick.
The servitor came back clumsily, followed by the tall and stiff silhouette of Elena Martyr. She blinked slightly as she entered the obscured desk, away from the harsh sun of the planet, her dark, big pupil eyes adjusting to the dimness slowly.
Kunrad glanced at her. The woman was very tall, lithe, and extremely pale, as if she had never seen the sun before. Her muscular build was slightly different, more elongated, typical of those that were born into voidship or orbital stations and never experienced ground gravity. Indeed, she was covered from toes to the neck in black light armor, and her face, the only part of her exposed, was reddened and slightly burnt from the heat of the desert planet. A golden aquila adorned her chestplate. She had very long, thin, ashy greyish hair that she wore in a complicated braided hairdo. It probably had some sort of symbolic importance, considering the amount of work and the obvious pride that went into this.
Kunrad was slightly amused to note that they had the same haircolor, which was quite similar to their illustrious ascendant herself. Even though her birthplace had deformed Elena slightly, there was something in her build that reminded him of Theodora. The idea that the von Valancius blood ran deep into a voidborn psyker witch was preposterous enough to bring him a smile and make him like the heir even more. The poor girl would never get a chance at becoming the first heir of von Valancius, not with that ludicrous backstory. But a psyker was always a useful tool to have, and with years of indoctrination and training, she should prove to be servile enough to make a good servant on the ship.
So, a voidborn, proud of her origin, still a bit clumsy and eerie under the gravity of a real world ; which meant she was just recently out of the Black Ship and still green on the ears. Lived all her life in closed up environment, not used to social interactions in the open, afraid of her own mind and though lacking any real power. That was perfect. Kunrad could not have wished for a better situation.
Elena's face, pale and tired, was thin and oval, with intense dark eyes. Her black pupils were abnormally large, another feature he had seen before in voidborns raised in dark environments. Her brows were furrowed, which gave her a persistent expression of mistrust and refrained anger ; she did not look like someone who would ever smile or laugh. Her dark eyes remained focused, vigilant, and she surely believed she could hide her thoughts and emotions behind her closed-up attitude, but her social skills probably were not her strong suit and she could not control the micro-expressions on her face. She bowed down, making an aquila gesture with her arms.
" Captain Novares. Master ", she saluted stiffly.
" Specialist Martyr, I announce to you that your service in the Guard is over. Your skills are…required elsewhere. Master Voigtvir will lead you to your new duties."
The psyker did not look surprised in the least. "I understand, Captain Novares." Her lack of perplexity seemed to grit on the Captain's nerves.
" I am glad to meet you, Elena Martyr. Come, and I will explain. Captain, I thank you for retrieving Elena quickly."
" Long live the von Valancius dynasty", replied the Captain dutifully and politely, though everyone could see it in his eyes : the gleam of relief as he gave the psyker away. Good riddance.
Elena followed Kunrad inside his transport ship. The man moved with abnormal grace, and there was something about him she could not quite put her finger on. Just looking at him made her uneasy, but slightly fascinated as well. She tried to bite back her impressions, not to show anything of whatever thoughts passed in her mind.
Do no trust him.
Do no trust anyone.
No one is your friend.
Kunrad made a gesture for her to sit and get ready for take off. She obediently took place and watched around as the man went to give his order to the pilot. The transport ship was comfortable, with large, velvet seats, and pictures depicting the symbols of the von Valancius dynasty. A statue of the God-Emperor seemed to watch over them from the other side of the ship. Elena had the habit to travel in frugal ships, transport for soldiers and cannon fodder, standing shoulder to shoulder with thousands of other guardsmen. She wasn't accustomed to this. I'm going to a Rogue Trader's ship , she thought for herself. This is insane.
What did the Rogue Trader even want with her ? She knew, she felt it was something…it was related to something inside her, but what ? A metallic taste was in her mouth. She looked back at the religious statue, finding solace in the glory of His face, and the impression faded.
After giving his order for take-off and indicating their arrival upon the vox-call, Kunrad sat in front of her on one of the sofa. The man smiled pleasantly, which was never a good sign in Elena's opinion. But then, nothing was ever a good sign to her. The engines around them whirred, but the noise was comfortably numbed down by isolation and the door to the pilot's cabin closed off, giving them privacy.
" So, Elena Martyr, let me ask : since I know you're a diviner and you did not seem surprised by my presence, do you know why you're here ?'
She stared back at the man. She did not wish to confide anything to him, but at the same time, she wanted to impress him. "This has something to do with the ship, does it not ? When I heard about it on the vox, I felt it was for me. "
" Interesting choice of words, though I would not recommend using this phrasing in front of the lord Captain" commented Kunrad, sounding vaguely amused by her response. " Well, before our arrival, and before more adept explanations…I know I haven't even properly introduced myself…but please, entertain me, and see that as a test. What can you see about myself ? "
Elena pursed her lips sternly. She did not like the question. Her experience so far has been that no one truly wanted to hear whatever she could guess at their near future, nor at their aura. Though not as intimate as, say, the touch of a telepath wandering into one's mind, the power of a diviner always displeased those that were touched unwillingly by it. You learnt how to keep your mouth shut quickly.
Though with Kunrad Voigtvir, there was…something unsettling which made her want to peer into it. Without her tarot and a due time for interpretation and focus though, there was not much she could foresee and Kunrad would obviously know that.
She focused briefly on his silhouette, trying to see his aura in the warp. It proved strangely hard to pinpoint with precision, which was…not expected. Of course, she could sense his presence, but could not quite define its silhouette. Most of the time, she had no issue at scrying auras. But this one had to have some help, training in psychic domain, or some sort of protection.
But maybe it was the point of the test after all ? To see if she could overcome his psychic protection ? Or to show her just how well protected and educated he was, and take that as a warning that she was not to pry without dire consequences.
There was a feeling though…there was something…like a light, maybe. Not the artificial light of a ship, not the feeble light of a candle…something else, more vast. Her tongue tasted like…the feeling you had when you gazed upon a magnificent landscape at twilight. And her heart beat faster, she was sure of it, as something else grew…a promise. Meant to be. She could not make sense of this feeling. She just felt a sort of connection, an intertwinement of sort between her and the strange man. Her skin grew colder as the fateful feeling lingered on, making the hair on her ams rose up. It was hard to push back the fascinating feeling of connection, though it was senseless, not revealing anything to her witch-sight.
Elena opened her eyes, unaware she had even closed them. Now, she felt a bit sick.
Voigtvir was looking at her intently, his face unscrutable in his graceful way, waiting for her reply. She tried to compose something logical from the succession of feelings she had perceived, but could not come up with any rational answer.
" You are a well guarded man, Kunrad Voigtvir, but though you walk in the shadows, there is a light guiding your path, like that of a distant star, in between day and night. " She settled for that one, too prudent to say more, but wishing to intrigue the man so that he would deem her interesting enough.
Make yourself useful.
" A light. How poetic," replied Kunrad with a hint of irony. At that, Elena pursed her lips, the sarcasm all the worse because of his politeness. She failed to notice the very discreet twitching of his finger at her omen.
I should not have said it.
Do not say anything else.
Do not share what you feel.
They never believe you.
However, Kunrad was graceful enough to let her attempt at divination slide. He relaxed on his seat, eyeing her with calculated interest.
" I must warn you," he said, " we won't be staying long in orbit. The Lord Captain has already issued the order to prepare for warp travel. Lady Theodora is taken up by the preparations…she won't be receiving you just now. But she has set up a chamber for you, on the residential deck. I should not say anymore ; she will want to talk to you personally. Once there, I will let you take hold of your accommodation until the Lord Captain calls for you."
Elena nodded in reply, her dark eyes running now to the starbay, as they approached the von Valancius flagship. The sheer size of it clearly made an impression on her.
In the deepest corner of his mind, Kunrad was checking every variable of his plan. Welcoming another diviner on board of the ship could have proven an issue. But so far he had managed to fool Idira perfectly well, given enough armasec and distraction, and could tell that neither heirs of Theodora possessed the power to scrutiny behind his warding. Elena was looking at him warily, but she also looked slightly fascinated. She wasn't telling him everything, he knew that from her strange reaction, but had no clue to what was truly going on. A light, she said. Well, she wasn't all that wrong…and still in for a famous surprise on board.
Fortunately, Elena was still too fresh out of Scholastica Psykana to pose a threat, and her naivety would prove easy to fool. Kunrad smiled to himself. She was a perfect sacrifice. It was just meant to be.
Present - Rykad system
Elena's eyes snapped open as she stood suddenly in her bed, sweating profusely. The dreams…they were awful. She shook them off.
She took a moment to inhale sharply, and considered her surroundings.
Theodora's office and bedroom were worthy of a Rogue Trader status. Everything was excessive, from the size of the bed who could welcome nearly twenty people in if needed be (and Elena would rather not think about it too much), to the succession of artifacts in the hall and the huge pool composing her bathroom, including the large office desk made in rare wood and crumbling under date-slates, papers and star maps.
It was strange to sleep into the personnel chamber of the Rogue Trader. Elena got up off the bed, her long, ashy hair falling to her knees and around her naked body as she stood up. A few servo-skulls, who'd been silent and inactive as she slept, suddenly came to life, some of them coming to research her servants while others started chanting prayers to the God-Emperor and glory to the von Valancius dynasty.
In a moment, dozens of servants were entering her room, young maids, all exceptionally beautiful. Elena frowned, unsure of what was going on, but the servants seemed to perform their tasks dutifully. No one dared raised their head to look at her. Two of them launched themselves at her feet to present her with various oils to massage her feet, as well as gathering her clothes and boots for her.
Elena chose to let them act as per usual. Soon, she was clad in her black chestplate, which had been wiped clean of any traces of blood and gore, the aquila on it made to be even shinier. Various golden jewelry were attached to her red cape and golden belt, and the servant soon took up on the task of combing her hair. There seemed to be a fleeting moment of hesitation, as they started to pin her locks in Theodora's style.
" Stop that", ordered Elena coldly as she recognized the pattern. In the large mirror in front of her, she saw how they copied the hairstyle and hated it.
I am not her.
I don't even know her.
And yet I sleep in her bed and her ship is mine, with its thousands of lives relying on me now.
" Here's how you're going to work from now on", she said, and then described the process of styling she wished them to follow through. Pleading for her forgiveness all the while, the maids managed to perform her wishes. She dismissed them with a commanding wave of her hand as they were finished, and was left suddenly alone in her office. Breakfast had been served : real fruits from faraway agri-worlds, recaff in quantity, and enough food to sustain a whole banquet.
Knowing she was alone, Elena sat uneasily in one of the wooden chairs, eyeing the food in front of her warily, as if it was going to poison her. As the thought occurred in her mind, she focused on her inner self and called forth her precognition abilities, to get a sense of any danger that could come to her in the near-future. But there was none, nothing she could sense. All was perfectly safe. She took a recaff cup and a refined plate of fruit and something that looked like grilled meat.
In all her life, Elena had never seen such luxury before. It would prove difficult to adjust to this new setting. This was her birthright, in a way - though Theodora had never intended this for her, she understood that. The Rogue Trader had seen in her a useful tool to help forth her favored heir.
She was wrong to bet on this weak-willed psyker.
My blood runs stronger. I am the one meant for this ship.
My blood is a weakness hidden within.
As soon as the feeling entered her mind, she pushed back her recaff, feeling nauseous and sick. She shook her head as the thoughts faded away.
She stood up and walked to the religious book that barely had any sign of being readen by Theodora. Absent-mindedly, Elena chose a random page and read it, her lips uttering the prayer.
" O immortal Emperor, have mercy on us, miserable unworthies that we are,
Keper of the light, guide our darkened path with radiance. We are your warriors and we are servants to thee, we stand free from blindness of heart, free from hypocrisy, vainglory an deceits, but captive to hatred, malice and anger, to the filth, the alien, the heretic,
By thy Golden Throne, keep and strengthen us, we who fight for thee."
The prayer calmed her down, helped her find solace in her own mind, and consolation from her perpetual loneliness. She tried to let the wisdom of His word seep through her heart, as she had thousands of times before. Strength was the key word here.
You should not tolerate weakness, neither in yourself nor in others.
You should not show any to anyone.
You shall not doubt.
Inspired by the prayer, Elena made her way to the huge, golden door that separated her chamber from the bridge of command. Two servo skulls followed her around, proposing various records of service and informing her of the state of the ship.
The huge doors opened in front of her, and she stood tall as she crossed the bridge of command towards the Rogue Trader's throne. All around her, murmurs and whispers died down as officers turned to salute her. Only the prayers of the Enginseers appeasing the machine spirits remained. The bridge of the flagship could hold a small orbital station inside it. Its height was that of a cathedral, and, though its glassy bays which were in themselves pieces of art, one could admire the infinity of the stars and the very slow dance of planets. The Koronus Expanse. My protectorate now. Full of opportunities, duties, and danger. That is, if I can make this ship fly again. Which I will. Her heart beat faster with excitement and anticipation, but she kept her face stern and cold.
Around the command center in front of her throne, her Seneschal was reading data-slates dutifully. His grayish hair was slicked down in a ponytail and his cybernetic red eye flashed quickly as he deciphered the date from the slate. His face shows no traces of fatigue or weariness, even though he had to cope with the disaster of the death of Lady Theodora. Abelard stood to attention and saluted her as she grew near. Elena noted that his uniform was perfectly worn, without any traces of wrinkles or blood. A rigorous man, she thought.
Idira Tlass, her arms closed, stood nearby. She was quite the opposite sight of Abelard : a medium height, dark-skinned woman, tousled and unkept hair, very simple robes that looked oddly primal in contrast to her technological implants implemented in her crane. She smiled at Elena, seemingly happy to see her, through the eyes of the psyker quite nearly didn't focus exactly on her. She's reading my aura , thought Elena. Idira Tlass was going to be a problem.
Elena immediately disliked her. She's unsanctioned, unbound, untrained. The idea that another psyker was here, another diviner, but more powerful and without all the training she had to resist daemonic possession irked her in the wrong way. She could tell Idira was more attuned to the warp that she was, more perceptive, but also more dangerous ; Elena had spent years learning how to control herself. Idira Tlass seemed hardly capable of controlling anything, let alone her own mind, which was prone to visitation from voices and odd warnings. But though she mistrusted her, Elena felt she also needed her. Idira, on the other hand, had seemed more than glad to meet another diviner.
Elena stared her back, her dark eyes flashing as she herself started to scry the other psyker's aura. Tlass was a mess, and contrary to Voigtvir, she had no means to hide herself. She was a whirlwind of colors and presences, all not her own, which made her all the more unpredictable - and Elena hated it. And Idira was grieving, damaged, slightly deformed by extreme loneliness ; Elena felt a taste of hungoverness and cheap armasec on her tongue - the eyes of the two women found each other and prudently, Idira's gaze focused back on realspace, a sly smirk on her lips. Two can play this game. I can see you, thought Elena. But the truth was that in exchange, Idira could see her too…being on the receiving end of diviner powers wasn't something Elena was used to.
And then stood the sister of battle. Argenta's angelic aura shone out in witch sight as she shined in realspace. Her short white hair framed her oval face, with gleaming, resolved eyes. Ever since Elena had walked through fire unscratched, Argenta looked at her with anticipation. Elena knew that the sister of battle would not have thought much of a voidborn psyker otherwise, but Argenta recognized the holiness of the Warrant that now graced Elena's fate, and Elena was now pretty sure she could rely upon her as a steady ally, for now.
" Seneschal, I have decided where we should go first. We need a Navigator badly. Let us visit Eurac-V."
" It will be done, Lord Captain", replied Abelard. He turned back and screamed at a few officers, who in turn ran to their stations to issue orders upon orders, and, as the chain of command of the ship crackled to life, one screaming officer at a time, Elena took place in the Rogue Trader's seat, watching the flagship sear through space towards the Navis Nobilite station.
- Elena's dreams - glimpses at the future - unknown place and time
Paintings upon paintings upon paintings…what are the paintings about ? As you approach, you see the slight drawing of a bird. The drawing comes to life as you look at it. It's a miracle ! The Bird sings, but its song is unholy, ominous, full of disquiet. It makes your eyes tear up with blood. You find yourself in a gilded cage with barbed wires, and it is slowly but inexorably closing in on you. It's a trap !
You turn back to the paintings. The Bird is no more. All the paintings are now made of blood. Yours, maybe. It just keeps coming and it is flooding the cage. And now, for some reason, it is boiling up, though it gets colder and colder. The ambiguity of it all - it feels like being torn apart. The cage, it's still closing in and now it has needles on it.
There is no way out. The sense of powerlessness is overwhelming. You try to focus but you err. There are shadows in the cage. All the shadows wear red robes but none has a face. They go in circles and circles and it seems to stop the cage from closing on for now, but you're also trapped within forever. You try to break free of the circle - and then you're one of the paintings, and someone hunches over you as it draws you out. Now you're a card of tarot in a game you haven't played before. The cage has stopped closing in for now, but you still hear its screech and whirring. You look up - and there is no light.
Time to wake up.