As far as blindly following Warp currents go, I daresay we got fairly lucky. Lady Cassia steered us safely and, although the first two systems we found were not of interest, at least nothing bad happened.

As per the lord-captain's orders, I brought Master van Calox up to date to small unit tactics, most notably shock team protocols. To my surprise — and despite his arrogance — he proved fairly adept at it, both in theory and in exercise but then, I suppose his kind has a natural talent for following orders once they have accepted their betters' authority. Training him brought me back many years ago, when I was a young whippersnapper of a lieutenant courting my lovely Quatharina, and, although I had been quite reluctant to accept the task, the lord-captain had been quite right to assign it to me. Curbing his rebellious streak was a treat, and he worked well with Sister Argenta, Magos Pascal and myself.

It is, however, with proper sadness that I must report Her Ladyship opposed my holding live fire exercises. I asked her on the bridge, during one of her usual rounds, underneath the idling hololith display; it should have been a formality, but she looked at me with a serious, quizzical look that didn't bode too well.

'Live fire exercises?' she repeated, tasting the words as if they were bitter. 'On my ship?'

'Yes, lord-captain. Fear not: the hull is strong enough, a few stray bolter rounds cannot hurt it. It would go tremendously far in polishing the last rough angles of the shock team that is your retinue, even more were you to join us.'

'Fuck the hull,' she said. 'It can withstand a small asteroid impact, I'm not worried about it. Where would you plan to source the targets?'

'Well, lord-captain, there is a certain quantity of petty criminals aboard at all times, held in the brigs. It is a widespread custom that these must to serve the Imperium in some way to atone for their crimes.'

Her shoulders stiffened and her voice was beyond icy when she replied. 'Abelard, I know this. Do not forget where I come from. I killed my first condemned inmate when I was ten. And I am telling you no one will hunt prisoners for sport on my ship. Is that clear?'

'This is not for sport,' I hotly protested. Her fist hit the hololith console by my side, so hard that its protective glass cracked, and she left blood on it. The commotion brought the bridge to a standstill. I had never seen Her Ladyship so angry, and as she barely tried to control herself I must confess I became afraid. Not the least because her stance was incomprehensible to me. Had her black eyes been autopistols, I would have been dead.

'Do not,' she articulated through clenched teeth, 'dispute my authority. No. Live fire. Exercises. I'll personally throw you out of the nearest airlock if you do.'

Her bloody hand hovered over her laspistol hilt. I should have recognised that wild look on her face — the one of soldiers suddenly pulled back to a particular day, no matter how long ago, and who face again the same enemy, and the same violence. But I was caught in my own stubbornness: such exercises are in my opinion the finest — and surest — way to finish training a newly-formed squad. So I asked: 'Why, lord-captain?'

Emperor, do not ever let me accuse the lord-captain of being lenient, or to underestimate her again! Strange as her views may be at times, only today did I fully grasp how much they stem from reason instead of the weakness of emotions.

'Because the Commissar of this regiment says so,' she spat, 'because one time is enough.' Her breath laboured and she shook her head; there was no telling what next she might have done if Mistress Heydari hadn't suddenly materialised by her side in a flurry of silken frills and, in a fluid movement, subtly removed Her Ladyship's laspistol from its holster before planting herself before her eyes.

'There, shereen,' crooned my saviour. 'Come back to us. What is done is done, it won't happen again. It's beyond horrible but it's gone, it was a long time ago, such a long time ago. It feels real, but it is not; you're here with us, you already survived this. Flower of my friends, look around, tell me how many lecterns stand around the hololith.'

Her Ladyship looked at Mistress Heydari as in a daze. 'Katov Leifnir,' snapped Mistress Heydari. 'How many lecterns?'

In the long minute it took the lord-captain to answer, I was ready to die: her sword was still at her side. But at last she grounded herself; her breath evened, life came back to her eyes. She shook Mistress Heydari's arm away from her shoulders and stared at me, impassible once more.

'Is that understood?' she asked.

'Yes, lord-captain.' I saluted before she left. A wise decision: I would have hated to have to relieve her of duty.

Third time, as they say, was the charm: as of today, we have dropped out of Warp in a system the augurs have confirmed to be Telikos Epsilon, home of Janus, the pearl of agri-worlds of the Koronus Expanse. Vox Master Vigdis sent word of our arrival, so that all honours may be bestowed upon Her Ladyship. As the luck of orbital mechanics would have it, we are only five days from our prize.

Ever since the scene on the bridge, I have been extremely careful around Her Ladyship. I do know her outburst was nothing personal, but I would feel better if I understood what caused it. Unfortunately, Sergeant Traigg — the only man aboard who could know what it was all about — has remained uncharacteristically tight-lipped, saying it was not his story to tell. Mistress Heydari, perhaps, has information too, but in many flowery words told me to pound sand, and of course I dare not ask Her Ladyship herself.

Aboard the shuttle taking us to Governor Vistenza Vyatt's Janus palace, our small party was quite relaxed. Her Ladyship had decided on a mid-sized affair, feeling that too many companions would mark her as insecure about her new power — the news of Lady Theodora's demise having been shared by vox as soon as we had been in range. There was me, of course, but also Master van Calox (on account of the power behind his rosette; Her Ladyship had said, and I quote, 'he's a pompous git but it won't hurt to show I'm friendly with his boss'), and Lady Cassia (on account both of her being the heir of House Orsellio and needing to see how one does diplomacy) (although I do hope she will take with a grain of salt Her Ladyship's most energetic example). Her Ladyship had elected, rather than our more utilitarian shuttles, for one fitted with all comforts and decorated like a Candlemas tree on the outside. Instead of crash webbing over metallic benches, we had individual seats with excellent padding, and I was looking forward to visiting the liquor cabinet on our way back. It was, of course, more lightly armed than the others, but sometimes one has to dress to impress.

We circled a bit over the palace compound before landing, at the lord-captain's request, and to Lady Cassia's greatest pleasure. Janus is truly a beautiful planet, green and rich, blessed with a charming (if sometimes violent) fauna, and Vyatt Palace wouldn't have disgraced richer worlds closer to the galactic core. The main house sprawled in between well-tended gardens that only ended when the low, picturesque, cliffs of the peninsula, began and cascaded to the blue sea below. Stairs carved in their white stone allow the more adventurous to visit narrow beaches. It has been long since I have visited Janus, Lady Theodora having given her full trust to Governor Vyatt, and I do look forward to reacquainting myself with such a lovely place.

Flight control directed us to the governor's personal landing pad, as could be expected; it lay only a short way from the main house, in a terraced courtyard where gazebos and diminutive groves sheltered the rich and idle sycophants one always finds in the wake of planetary power. Our pilot made a perfect landing. From the armourcrys bays, I spotted our reception committee waiting for us, at a safe distance from the shuttle backwash: the governor's first advisor, if I wasn't mistaken, as well as a few dignitaries and a honour guard in flashy dress. Once we had settled over the pad, it was hard to keep Lady Cassia from rushing out of her seat: it would be the first time ever she walked on planetary solid ground, and I was proud that she would do so on a von Valancius world. But we had to wait, of course, for the post-flight checklist — for the engines to be cut off with the proper Rites of Discontinued Operations, for pressure to be made equal to that of the atmosphere, and for the pilot to declare it safe to open the hatch.

One of the few servants who had accompanied us — Her Ladyship had anticipated an offer to stay at Vyatt Palace — clad in von Valancius formal attire, opened the way to the platform, the metal resounding under her feet. Her Ladyship followed a few paces behind, in the simple tunic she now favoured. This, too, had come as a surprise to me, although I should be used to it by now; her simple Commissar-like greatcoat had been just fine, and the tunic makes her look like a cadet of her own House Guard. I shan't deny, though, that she carries it well and imbues it with her strong personality, so much that only a fool would mistake her for anything else than a Rogue Trader of noble blood.

Before the lord-captain reached the pavement, however, the unmistakable crack of a sniper gun tore through the air. The servant collapsed, her head vaporised in a red mist. Her Ladyship precipitously climbed up the ramp, backwards, trying to pinpoint where the shot had come from. Once she was in the relative safety of the shuttle, we huddled beside the open hatch, presumably out of the shooter's line of sight. The sounds of an incipient firefight now reached us. Her Ladyship grabbed a lasgun from the weapons rack and said: 'At least four, at nine, ten, and two o'clock, probably more. Presumed friendlies at twelve.' Meanwhile, I threw everyone comm-beads from the emergency stash; Her Ladyship tapped hers into the shuttle network. 'Darius,' she asked, 'how long before you can be airborne again?'

'Ten minutes, ma'am.'

'Too long. We'll disembark and face them on the ground. As soon as you're ready, lift off and provide whatever air cover that glorified parade crib can offer.'

A whimper found its way in my ear — so small that Lady Cassia must have thought the comm-bead wouldn't pick it up, but those things are sensitive. Her Ladyship turned to her and very firmly, but also very gently, assured her everything would be fine. 'You'll keep with me,' she said while fixing a few spare power packs to her belt. 'We'll go for cover, and you'll stay with me, and as long as you keep your head down you'll be fine. Trust me, if things go south, you will be safer in the fight than in the air. Abelard, grenades?'

'Only smoke.'

'Give me. Van Calox, you have that power sword of yours? Bodyglove armour, too?'

'Yes, Rogue Trader.'

Barely two minutes had passed by the chronometer, probably less, but as always in these conditions time seemed to stretch. And speed was of the essence: inside the shuttle, we were at the mercy of a well launched grenade. Lady Cassia's face was taunt with the effort of appearing brave. The lord-captain was swimming in her element as she issued short orders — she would throw a smoke grenade, under cover of which she and Lady Cassia would run to take shelter up the nearest staircase, where thick marble pillars could hold off quite a bit. Then, she would provide suppressive fire as van Calox and I tackled our aggressors with our melee weapons. How lucky that I never travel without my new power hammer! Truly an excellent investment — the more I use it, the more I like it.

That first part of the plan ran without a hitch. The smoke screen prevented our enemies from noticing the lord-captain's advance. Once she reached her position, she dished out waves of fire on full auto while van Calox and I braved the thick fog with the intention of falling upon our targets at unawares. Unfortunately, as the shuttle started again its motors, the growing backwash dispersed our cover too early and we were spotted, having to fall behind some garish statuary. Meanwhile, the local guard did what planetary defence forces do best: attract enemy fire, and die. Governor Vyatt's man was down, either dead or doing a good impression of it. An interruption in the lord-captain's continuous fire told me she had reached the end of her first power pack. In the several instants it took for her to replace it, the comm-bead picked her gasp and I lost some hearing as she shouted for Lady Cassia to get down. Unwisely, I looked back to their position — and yes, dear Lady Cassia had risen, either foolish or beyond brave — she had no armour, as far as I knew, and no weapon save her staff, and an assailant was moving up the stairs, having no doubt reached the same conclusion as mine regarding Her Ladyship's depleted power pack. Before any of us could do a thing, however, something happened. Lady Cassia extended her hand, spiny and frail, and she opened her third eye. The lord-captain's would-be assassin was caught in our Navigator's gaze — like an arrow of Warp energy — and crumbled to the ground. Just to be sure, Her Ladyship lodged two lasbolts in his head once she was done recharging.

There was no time to dwell on Lady Cassia's unexpected contribution to the fight, as van Calox had taken advantage of a tendril of fog to bear down upon a woman in camouflage fatigues. She managed to dodge his strike, but by doing so fell within my reach, and the both of us brought her down. Another we would have treated the same, if a piercing shot hadn't hit them below the ear.

'Thank you, lord-captain,' I said in my comm-bead.

'That wasn't me. Sniper at three, up the roof.'

The shuttle, at last, took off, and the pilot gave us some more intel about the disposition of enemy forces. Two more fighters van Calox and I took out while Her Ladyship provided cover fire — there were enemy snipers too, and a few straggling cowards who thought grenades would do what the more worthy of their kind had failed to achieve. Between our valour, as well as the mysterious sniper, we prevailed (as was to be expected), and I must say it was quite bracing for me to face enemies with military training. Mistress Heydari's rabble on Footfall a child could have cleaned up, and Rykad Minoris had been more of a heretic-free-for-all than a proper battle.

When all was said and done, once the last shot had been fired and the last blow dealt, we regrouped. I glimpsed the sniper as they got up and left, but they showed no sign of joining us. Governor Vyatt's advisor was well and truly dead, having bled out while we were otherwise occupied. Our fallen enemies all wore matching fatigues with no insignia — and of a different make than that of the dead PDF, which was heartening. Our shuttle landed again, having made sure the wider perimeter was clear, but this time the pilot kept the engines running.

With nowhere else to go in those now deserted gardens, we walked up the house — that was in full lockdown, shutters down and doors closed, and an alarm's whine filtered from the inside.

'Does anyone see a doorbell?' dryly asked Her Ladyship. Well, there was none to be found, so through the comm-bead our pilot patched us to flight control (that was a bit rattled, to say the least), and I took over the introductions.

'The most esteemed Lady Katov von Valancius, anointed by the Emperor, depositor of the Sacred Warrant of Trade, rightful ruler of Janus and associated territories, despot of Dargonus and mistress of Kiava Gamma, admiral of the von Valancius Trade Fleet, captain of the Emperor's Mercy…'

'Demands the immediate presence of Vistenza Vyatt at her front door before I call for an orbital strike,' cut the lord-captain.

That did it. Someone in a rush raised the shutters; the alarm shut up, and less than three minutes later the door opened to a haggard governor who fell to the most profound curtsey she could manage and remained on the ground, head bowed, spouting hurried excuses about rebels and an uprising. Her Ladyship allowed her to stew for a bit before taking a step towards her and addressing her. Her neat uniform contrasted with the governor's dress, all crumpled skirts of hand-embroidered silk spread in a messy circle on the floor. A small gaggle of the governor's own retinue did its best to appear unobtrusive.

'Vistenza Vyatt, from this moment on and until further notice, you are relieved of duty and under house arrest for gross negligence. Know that the only thing saving your life right now is my desire for a full enquiry that will uncover the root causes of everything and determine whether you are incompetent, malicious, or both.' She waved to the stunned honour guard. 'Take her to her office. I will follow. Advisors, with me.'

I had seen so far Her Ladyship angry, thoughtful, quiet and bored. This was my first time seeing her pissed off, and her prickly energy was a sight to behold.

The former governor's office was close at hand, but still far enough to give me time to call for reinforcements: if we were to depose Vistenza Vyatt, it would be better to have our own people hold her palace, in case any local guard got ideas. The office itself was a stately room adorned with many portraits of illustrious members of the Vyatt clan — some in a state of undress that, while flattering to the utmost to the talent of their chirurgeons (or to the painter's ability to improve on reality), would probably have caused scandal in their day, despite their allegorical tone and the leeway given to such works.

Her Ladyship sat behind the desk — her prerogative, as the liege of Janus — and raised an eyebrow at noticing a woman had followed us.

'And who would you be?'

'If you please, Your Ladyship,' replied the woman with a curtsey. 'I am governor Vyatt's aide.'

Not deigning to gratify her with an answer, the lord-captain turned her attention to the desk, carefully rummaging through its content, reading everything and anything, putting some data slates and paper documents away after a cursory glance for further analysis. It took the better part of an hour, during which van Calox and I stood without complaint on either sides of the former governor. Lady Cassia, as for herself, had gone to the window and looked outside. None of us had yet addressed what she had done during the fight: the conversation would most presumably be awkward, and therefore better held in the discreet confines of the Emperor's Mercy.

When next the lord-captain spoke, her voice carried that curt and business-like tone I know to associate with trouble to come. She drew apologetic — but not too lengthy or flowery — responses from Vistenza Vyatt, sketching the picture of a planet-wide rebellion born in the malcontent masses that toiled in the farms. It was a dreadfully common story that had been allowed to progress to a point where shooting the leaders would prove both unpractical and useless to curb the uprising. Uprooting it would take years and enough manpower to cripple productivity. While I knew the lord-captain would reject any proposition of large worker culling (and, to be fair, with no Warp routes open to speak off they would be difficult to replace), I privately thought that a dozen mobile firing squads would save us much trouble down the line. Nothing more noxious than complacency, it would appear, was behind all of this.

'You are wrong.' Her Ladyship's voice broke the silence that had followed Vyatt's last reply. 'This goes beyond a mere jacquerie. At the very least, the planetary vox system has been compromised, and at worst its personnel has been infiltrated. Your rebels knew I was coming; they had very little time to organise a strike, and yet they managed, and their plan would have been successful but for a woman, killed in my stead, whose name you are unworthy to know. Abelard, I want our own forces to breathe down the neck of every ranking military officer and countersign any and every order. Make sure the PDF remains loyal, despite their collective incompetence. And find how those rebels knew we were coming.'

No wonder her mind first went there: this would have fallen under a Commissar's prerogatives. I retreated by a few paces and called, again, Vox Master Vigdis — her people could certainly help with the task.

'Now tell me, Vistenza — has there been any Chaos worship activity on Janus?'

'No, Your Ladyship!' The woman had squealed, as if pricked by a hot-white needle. 'Never, I…'

'Has there been reports of growing numbers of blind beggars? Of something, or someone, called Aurora?'

'No, no! We are good servants of House von… of the Emperor! There may be civil unrest, but no heretics, I swear!'

'Cassia?'

Lady Cassia had stopped looking at the gardens for a little while now; instead, she watched, transfixed, Vistenza Vyatt. At the lord-captain's behest, she circled round the kneeling woman, her red eyes wide with interest. 'I see dark blue, Katov, a deep blue like a blossoming nebula, a crippling blue of fear streaked with orange and brown anxiety. Why does she fear so? Failing to do one's duty is shameful, but not the progenitor of fear.'

I could understand. The attempt on the lord-captain's life made Vistenza Vyatt's own life forfeit — but an accusation of heresy could bring a doom of Exterminatus over Janus itself, and we did have a representative of the Inquisition with us. It would be a terrible loss though, not only for House von Valancius but for the whole of the Expanse, and I pray to the Emperor it shall not come to that. Her Ladyship must have believed the former governor's protestations, as she did not pursue that line of questioning any further, electing instead to ask where she could find the sniper who had helped us. The need to congratulate the only capable person in the whole estate was a very natural one.

'Her name is Yrliet, Your Ladyship. You can probably find her in the white garden by the stables, she likes it here.' There, Vistenza Vyatt's voice faltered. 'You must know… she is a mutant. There is something abnatural about her that makes her a sharpshooter of note. I apologise and repent for harbouring her sort.'

'A mutant sharpshooter,' repeated Master van Calox.

Her Ladyship cut his remark short. 'No matter. At that point, a whole squadron of mutants could hardly make matters worse for you, Vistenza. This interview is now over.' We made our way to the door, where troopers in our own uniform now stood guard. Before Vyatt or her aide could follow us, Her Ladyship called for someone to bring a bucket. After a symbolic pause, she added: 'Belay that order. Make it two buckets.'

To the surprised women, Her Ladyship said: 'You are not to leave this office, Vistenza, nor your aide, since I feel you can't wipe yourself without her help. You are, after all, under house arrest — and a planetary governor should live in their office when there's an uprising going on. No communications whatsoever with the exterior. Food will be dropped once a day. The buckets will be emptied once a week.'