This was emphatically not the way I expected our visit to Janus to go, but at the end of the day I do have a very comfortable suite to stay in, dear Lady Cassia is getting to experience at last the beauty of the open skies, and I also get to bully some groundlings for the greater good of House von Valancius, which is all one could ever ask.

Her Ladyship's decision to remove Vistenza Vyatt has been like a kick in the proverbial anthill, and my first step was to reach to one Atilius Quint, the Administratum lackey inflicted to Janus by the powers that be on Dargonus. I really think everyone back there was happy to see him go, even though the cost of it was a promotion as prefectus of the Officio Agricultae — but then, as your average Administratum scribe is a righteous stick in the mud, maybe they all look up to him as some sort of example.

Anyway, Quint — a man who, despite many rejuvenats, cannot get rid of his portly red face scarred with pox — agreed to liaise with our own High Factotum in order for us to go over the former governor's books. I have no doubt than Danrok will be able to sniff out any discrepancy of interest to Her Ladyship, despite Quint's claims of the former governor's perfect innocence. Someone who, in his opinion, fills out paperwork with her level of finesse cannot be a bad person but, as myself a man who has dealt way too often with the Munitorium, I beg to disagree.

The next shuttle to land delivered Lady Cassia's servants and, surprisingly, Mistress Heydari, who had changed from her copper and purple dress to something more fitting — in her own mind — to the rurality of Janus. It was another frilly affair, this time in black and green, colours of a camouflage pattern as dreamed by a PDF general more used to the ballroom than to the battlefield, but I have to say the frills handily hid a considerate amount of weapons of the small and deadly kind. Effusive as always, Mistress Heydari greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, stating that shereen, as she calls the lord-captain, had sent her to apply her expertise in xeno-artefacts and backhand dealings to the ongoing situation.

'Her exact words were to figure out if everyone here is dumb enough to take a xenos for a mutant,' said she, a twinkle in her eye. 'Which, she said with the clarity of spirit that is hers always, could explain a few things. But tell me, o seneschal, diamond of the void, what did our handsome interrogator do to displease her? Our beloved lord-captain dragged him along as to a firing squad, and I couldn't tell which one of them was angrier.'

I cleared my throat but, before I could answer, Lady Cassia ran to Mistress Heydari and hugged her with a complete lack of decorum. 'Jae!' she cried. 'There are so many birds here, all different kinds! How glad I am that you are here; your colours are bright and happy as always, while everyone there except Abelard is so grey and dull.'

'Cassia, my nightingale! Tonight we will look at the stars, and I'll tell you which ones I've visited while you dream of new paths in the sky. But in the meantime, jasmine of morning, can I ask you a favour?'

They certainly had gotten along during our journey, when Lady Cassia could be spared from her duties as Head Navigator. Mistress Heydari had dazzled her with tales from her youth — tales that bore a certain resemblance, both in tone and content, to the novels Lady Cassia now devoured. I am still unsure whether her story of being a wronged princess thrown in the vagaries of the Cold Trade by terrible treachery is fake or not, but it is compelling. And, just like that, Lady Cassia was dispatched to go introduce herself to every aristocrat around — and note by their colours which ones were lying or dishonest about the rebellion.

'Do not forget dinner at eight,' I said when she left, all poise again, followed by her man Uve.

It was Mistress Heydari who replied that she hoped there would be ambull steak.

Just as I was wondering if I would have time to pay another visit to Atilius Quint, I found out the local guard had at last understood how to use a comm-net. Quite unfortunate timing, but the good news he imparted more than made up for it: they had found a stray rebel, alive, and cornered him into a shed. At last, some progress! The God-Emperor truly smiled upon us in this. Without another thought, I started for our prize, on the outskirts of the estate.

One day, I will learn that, when agri-worlders mention sheds, they truly mean barns of large dimensions. Same as forge-worlders speaking of hammers before they show you heavy machinery high as a frigate and that could crush a Titan. So this shed, I was told, housed the bare necessities of taking care of the gardens, including fertiliser which, being highly explosive, would prevent the use of grenades and such. In any case, Her Ladyship had been quite clear in her orders: any rebel found alive was to remain so, until she herself decided otherwise. I fear she mistrusts me in that, as she was particularly emphatic in her instructions, even listing several specific cases where she still forbid me explicitly to use lethal force. While I must avow I am, more often than not, happy to send my foes meet their judgment before the Golden Throne, I do know how to follow orders, and her insistence rubs me a bit the wrong way.

As such, the scoundrel had so far given a hard time to the guards, although this was no indication of his or her fighting valour: presuming the best and brightest had been sent as honour guard when we had landed, and had then promptly died, my only guess as to the competence of the surviving ones was neither an optimistic nor a charitable one. However, the remaining security forces made up in creativity for what they lacked in combat acumen, and stood ready to flood the shed with poison gas. Her Ladyship orders being what they were, I of course immediately forbid them to pursue such an action — to their dismay, as they were all out of ideas. Their leader, a man with as little chin as intelligence, tried to dissuade me from a frontal approach, arguing for killing first and thinking later. Of course, his loyalty having been sworn to the former governor made his approach eminently suspect and I, remembering the lord-captain's doubts, became only more forceful in my intent to take the terrorist alive. I pushed my way through them with ease and banged on the door.

'I am Abelard Werserian,' I shouted, 'seneschal of Her Ladyship Katov von Valancius, Rogue Trader and sovereign of his planet. By her orders and in the name of the Emperor, open this door!'

There was a scuffing sound somewhere inside, and a muffled voice asked something about the governor. I gladly informed the rebel that Vistenza Vyatt had been suspended by the lord-captain's wish, pending further investigation. The door opened and I stepped in bravely, despite a pungent smell of manure and chemicals.

The rebel was a young woman, covered in the kind of freckles acquired by a lifetime spend outside, and dirty, so dirty. Wounded, too, judging by the blood caking a whole leg of her fatigues, and my esteem for the guards outside shot up.

'The others are all dead, aren't they,' she half-stated, half-asked.

'Of course. Making an attempt on the lord-captain's life, what did you expect?'

'Dunno. Freeing Janus of her greedy paws. Vyatt should have been first, but the occasion was too good. That's what they said.' A true soldier of the Imperium would have taken their own life at that point, rather than being taken alive, but that was only rebel scum that stood before me. The woman was defeated in all ways. She wanted to talk. 'I kept watch, covering our way out. When the shooting stopped and no one came back… and then the guards chased me. I'm good at hiding, but they found me. What'll happen to me then?'

'First, lass, you will tell me where I can find the leaders of your little uprising.' I had my priorities. And my orders. 'And then, if your answers satisfy me, you will be held in the lord-captain's brig to await trial.'

The woman bristled with what was left of her honour at the thought of betraying her companions — so she was defeated, but not fully broken yet. She let out a string of curses (including one or two I noted for future reference).

'My dear,' I said, 'only the lord-captain's strictest orders are keeping you alive right now. Would you fail to cooperate, it would be most easy for me to knock you down and drag you back to our flagship in orbit, where we have a psyker interrogator of the Inquisition. Master van Calox and I do not see fully eye to eye on every matters but he is very dedicated to Her Ladyship's cause and would, I presume, be most happy to drag out answers from your mind. Whether you would be able to stop yourself from drooling and pissing yourself after he's done with you is doubtful. I assure you, it is in your best interest to lend us a helping hand.'

This is yet another moment when a true soldier of the Imperium would have tried again to bring their autopistol to their own head and blow their brains out. Writing these lines, I must say, though, the woman showed commendable self-control. Most people tend to liquefy when threatened with the Inquisition's minions. But I wasn't done yet.

'The lord-captain wants to bring an end to the war on this planet. For this, she needs to meet with your leaders.'

'And kill everyone, I bet.'

'Letting you live is a show of good faith,' I countered. 'Anyone else but Her Ladyship would have brought a swift justice to you already, as you did try to assassinate her. I certainly wouldn't have been this len… generous. But that's Her Ladyship. She has a way to look at things, that is unusual, but works. Mostly.'

In the dirty evening light that seeped through the rooftop aerations, I saw the woman rub her face and sigh. She appeared to be weighing her options; at last, she bit her lip and holstered her autopistol. With a tired struggle, she removed her rucksack and rummaged through its depths — it put me on edge, but truly she wasn't that threatening and my nerves, I think, were getting the best of me. She soon found her prize and handed it to me: a vox box, equipped with a long-range emitter.

'There,' she said. 'Headquarters tend to move around, so I don't know for sure where they are now, but you can probably trace their signal. Emperor wills I won't regret doing this.'

After that, very little remained to be done. I escorted her myself to one of our waiting shuttles, to be dispatched immediately topside. When I tried to vox Her Ladyship to keep her appraised, she didn't pick up, so I just left her a message through Vox Master Vigdis. Well, it was getting late after all, and we had synced ship time to the estate while traveling through the system.

To my surprise, Mistress Heydari and Lady Cassia had waited for me before ordering dinner. Mistress Heydari had discovered Vistenza Vyatt's personal cellar and welcomed me with a perfectly chilled vintage of sparkling Connigis wine. While we sampled it, we debriefed our respective afternoons. Lady Cassia had very little to say about the local aristocracy, except they were not up to her standards. Mistress Heydari, as for herself, reserved her judgement.

Me, I am not quite sure what we are up to. Without the eldar's presence, it would appear to be a simple affair, one of an overeager governor who pressed too hard. And there was the strange matter of the missing peasants. I am not sure I like it at all and, while I am loath to say it, I fear the late Lady Theodora's trust in Vistenza Vyatt appears to have been misplaced.