Eurac V was one of those stations that, once havens of luxury in the Void, had fallen into disrepair. It surprised me: the Navis Nobilite is too rich and too proud to usually allow for this. But the empty dock had seen better days and, when we reached the Atrium… I must say, it was a proper mess! Golden statues and chandeliers shone over a marble floor of many colours, but benches and cabinets had been built into barricades, and bodies — one of them still twitching — lay on the ground. We had heard shots on our way, so it wasn't exactly a surprise, but is any single colony or station in this damn system free from rebellion of some kind? House Winterscale has never been as tightly run as House von Valancius, but I was still unpleasantly taken aback at the news.

A tall man, who carried a Navigator's staff, stood in the middle of the carnage, a few bodyguards around him. He was the one in charge, it seemed, as his guards fell into a defending position around him when they spotted us. He turned, and we could see blood — not his own — trickling down his scaly face. The third eye on his forehead was closed, thankfully, but it pulsated so menacingly behind its lowered eyelid that the six of us stopped as a single man when he raised his hand in warning.

The Lord-captain turned to me, her austere bearing unperturbed: 'Abelard, if you would be so kind.'

I took a deep breath, clicked my heels, and proclaimed to the Navigator that before him stood Her Ladyship the Rogue Trader Katov von Valancius, heir to the greatest protectorate in the Koronus expanse and bearer of the Sacred Warrant of Trade. I took the liberty of pointing out that Nobilite custom required the Lord Navigator to introduce himself first but, given the unusual circumstances on the station, Her Ladyship the Rogue Trader was willing to turn a blind eye to his hostility. Pun intended. I, for myself, would rather face a Navigator's gaze than a Rogue Trader wrath: the Navigator will merely obliterate one from existence, while the Rogue Trader would make sure one suffered a lot in a short time before that. Well, Lady Theodora would have.

There was menace in the Navigator's voice when he replied. He was one Felek Christoph August, Keeper of this station, and took great care to explain Eurac V, as a holy sanctum for House Orsellio, was closed to outsiders. His dark-shrouded eyes looked down at us with exceptional disdain.

'Provide me with a Navigator,' said Her Ladyship, 'and I will immediately depart the station.'

The Keeper shrugged — a strangely mundane gesture in one so full of himself — and declined. He grew quite lyrical explaining this was an observation station where no contracts were to be signed, and detailing the philosophical depth of the Navigators' work there. The Lord-captain didn't reply but took a stroll around the atrium, looking at the dead with a dispassionate, calculating eye.

'How tragic. What happened here? Betrayal?'

'A most banal thing in the life of the Nobilite,' Keeper Felek replied. 'I was stabbed in the back by Theobald Orsellio, the first Keeper of Eurac V and my mentor. On his instructions, our own people sabotaged the generators, blew up the shuttles, brutally massacred the loyal servants of my mistress, and dared to take her prisoner.'

His tone had grown hot with anger; as he added a string of disparaging epithets to his statement, his hands grasped his staff with great force. He winced in pain, and his hand went to his ribs. After some back and forth, Her Ladyship and he came to an agreement: we would help free his mistress, one lady Cassia, and then we would get a Navigator. Leave it to the Nobilite to try and milk every single drop out of chance encounters.

Our progression through the station was slow. In order to reach the detained lady, we had to fix an elevator and also create a key for it, using a vial of said lady's blood that had been stored in a laboratory of sorts. All the while fighting — successfully of course — more than a handful of House Orsellio henchmen. As we took a rest in the laboratory, sitting in the middle of its many biological samples and strange machinery, the lord-captain wondered aloud about the feud we found ourselves in the middle of.

'I'm not sure that Keeper is trustworthy,' she said. 'Those guards we killed seemed to think we were siding with traitors.'

'Civil wars are like that, Lord-captain: each side is convinced of their rightfulness.' My reassurance didn't appear to convince her. From his spot (he was sitting on a chair, one lightly scratched leg sprawled over a box), van Calox cleared his throat and mused: 'We could get the next ones alive, should you wish to, and interrogate them.'

Her Ladyship politely declined, a dangerous light in her eyes: 'If I wanted to burn bridges with a powerful Nobilite dynasty by torturing their minions, I would have asked you earlier, master van Calox.'

'Suit yourself, Rogue Trader. But is killing the wrong side much better?'

'They shot first so yes, absolutely.'

'Her Ladyship is right,' I interjected. 'Should the rightful side wish to enlist our help, shooting before asking is a very poor way to introduce themselves. Keeper Felek, despite his boorish attitude, understood this very much.'

Once we were done catching our breath, so to speak, we left for this lady Cassia's chambers. The now-fixed, thanks to Magos Pasqal, elevator brought us to a lodge where mayhem hit us, for lack of a better word, like a rabid grox at full speed. I barely glimpsed the rich ornery around us before collapsing, a sudden despair that wasn't mine submerging me. Sobs wracked my chest in ways I hadn't felt since my beloved Quatharina passed. The world became a black pit of despair; it was a prison; I had nowhere to turn, there was no help to get; I would die under chains and never know the gentle touch of happiness. I was a monster, broken, to be laughed at or abused, used until too late a death took me. Oh the pain! A stab wound would have been better!

Not all of us were equally affected. Magos Pasqal was about his usual self — but I do think tech-priests, being the union of human flesh and sacred machine, feel not as we do. A bit farther, van Calox had grown quite pale, as the Lord-captain, and while they both had to prop themselves against the wall, they still stood. Sister Argenta, however, just like me, had fallen under that sudden assault on our psyches. She was kneeling, covering her face with her hands, and so far gone was I in the endless mires of despair that I could only pray for death to take her before me, so that her suffering may end. 'Heresy,' she cried, 'witchery!' As for Idira Tlass, she moaned in a drawn-out whimper, shook her head, and begged someone — anyone — to stop her.

I was barely aware of the Lord-captain making her way to a raised platform where a prone figure lay, unnaturally long limbs curled like a spider's, hands deformed with talon-like nails — but when she spoke to the creature the fog lifted from my mind, and I could see better. It was a girl, but what girl! Face pale as death, scarlet-misted eyes that cried tears of blood! Dishevelled white hair, that barely hid spiny gills on her neck! And on her brow a circlet of gold and star sapphires hid a Navigator's third eye. At the Lord-captain's behest, she wearily lifted her head, letting out a drawn-out sound similar both to a sob and the howl of a small wounded animal, and propped herself upright. What a picture that was, of that mutant girl clad as a queen in flickering candle-light, covered in blood like a saint born of a pagan's fever dream! And behind her sprawled an immense painting, abstract, a canvas filled with twisted patterns of black tempera and red blood!

Now I could see others were in the room too — mostly servants, but also armed guards. All were the living image of suffering and despair. Her Ladyship, in a shockingly casual manner, sat on the stairs to the platform, and summarily introduced herself to the girl. The latter uneasily asked if the betrayers were dead — and suddenly the illusion of a terrible witch-queen faded, leaving a scared teenager behind. 'Pardon my manners, Katov,' she added. 'I did not expect to make such a gracious acquaintance in such a time of great sorrow for our House.'

Well, someone had had etiquette lessons.

Suddenly, a heavyset old man, who had shaken off the same weight of unending pain as us all, rushed to the platform, guiding himself with a staff. His bulging eyes, white with cataract, were swollen from crying, and he called: 'Child… Lady Cassia, where are you? Sacred Child?' A sickly sweet scent of decay oozed from his deformed body, that of an elderly mutant twisted further by prolonged contact with the Warp.

The girl called to him and, sitting by her side, he cradled her in his embrace. He looked in our direction; his voice, crackling with age and pride, threatened us with the wrath of House Orsellio should we be foes. By now, I was myself again and I stepped forward, hand on my hammer-hilt.

'Threatening the head of a Rogue Trader dynasty is a grave offence, esteemed… whoever you are.' Don't these Navigators ever introduce themselves?! Her Ladyship signalled me to stand down, which I did grumblingly, and she spoke.

'We are stranded in this system after the death of our Navigator; I thought a Navis Nobilite station would be the place to call for help. But on arrival I found a strange situation, made of secrets and betrayal. There is a man downstairs who calls himself Keeper Felek — a Navigator, as you are — who pretends lady Cassia is held here against her will, hostage to armed traitors.' The Lord-captain pointedly looked around before adding: 'It doesn't seem to me that an old man and a handful of guards play a convincing part of blood-thirsty criminals.'

The old mutant appeared to think about it. He tenderly caressed the girl's — lady Cassia's — hair and as he moved his arm I glimpsed black burns covering his skin. The girl had closed her eyes. She, too, looked exhausted. 'Given that you have not so far drawn your weapons, your intentions are probably peaceful. Rogue Traders are famous for their one-sided deals, yet House Orsellio will ask a service of you — save the life of the Child, in exchange for future cooperation. Take her away from this station. I fear I do not have long left. You can make yourself an ally or an enemy of our House today.'

'Where should I take her?'

'To Regent Aaronto, acting head of House Orsellio in the Koronus expanse. You will be richly rewarded.'

'Tell me more about Keeper Felek.'

'He was like a son to me… but he proved to be just another traitor. He sought to steal our most precious treasure, the heir of our House — our sacred Child! To revel in power with others like himself, casting our House into the abyss. To pervert the centuries-long traditions of our family. The renegades sought to seize control of the dynasty before the sacred Child had come of age and taken up the Novator's throne. We barricaded ourselves in these chambers, unable to defeat him, unable to flee, unable to hope — but strong enough still to keep him at bay.'

The old man's voice broke in a cough. Specks of blueish blood stained his lips; beads of sweat formed on his skin. His breath became raspy, and he swallowed his saliva with great effort before turning his blind eyes to the Lord-captain. She hadn't moved, still seated on the highest step, one leg bent and the other straightened, as if she were chatting with old friends. There was pity in her expression as she looked at the unconscious lady Cassia. Did she feel a kinship with her, as another target of political plots?

'I will take her to your Regent,' she finally said.

'The Emperor's grace be upon you.'

In the shadow-strewn gloom, the old mutant and his young mistress made a poignant picture. He bent to her, removing hair covering her ear — strangely normal, round and small, although discoloured as the rest of her skin — and called with his croaking voice: 'Wake up, my mistress. My sacred Child… It is all over now. It is over.'

Lady Cassia stirred and left his embrace. Her dazed crimson gaze darted around the room, coming to a stop over the lord-captain. 'You. I remember you. Have you come to save us?'

The lord-captain nodded; they all rose. The old man appeared to be seized by a spell of dizziness and barely steadied himself against a table laden with brushes and colours. He grimaced in pain and took the girl's hands into his own.

'Child, please, listen to me very carefully. One last time.' His words were hard to come by, but heavy with purpose. 'You will now embark on a voyage with this lady to rejoin the House and its regent. I… I will not be able to accompany you on this journey.' He coughed again; a clot of blue blood escaped the cover of his hand and fell on the ground.

'No!' cried out the girl. 'Don't leave me alone in this violet-brown haze! You're coming with me — your mistress is giving you an order, do you hear me?' In her shrill voice ebbed waves of panic; a black incomprehension of hopelessness that was not mine once again washed over me.

'Mistress, I fear this will be your only order that I dare to disobey. I am the Keeper of Eurac V and, alas, I have less than a day left in me. Allow me to serve you one last time and honour my final duty to House Orsellio. I will remain on the station and destroy the secrets it holds.'

Tears of blood once again filled the girl's eyes and stained her so pale skin. Her power, perhaps overcome by a sadness not directed at herself, did not affect me this time, and she appeared extremely young, extremely vulnerable. And alone already. I have children — and grand-children, and great-grand-children — she couldn't be a day over sixteen. Despite her mutations, all she needed must have been a hug and a cup of hot chocolate. I agreed with the lord-captain's choice to take her with us; besides, an alliance with perhaps the single most powerful Navigator House could only prove beneficial.

'I cannot leave my home!'

'Please, Child, do not be stubborn. Remember your duty to the House, and let those thoughts bring you strength.'

Fear, this time — a sticky, viscous and cold thing — the empty panic of a drowning cat — hit me — us. Her Ladyship winced, blinked and bit her lip, trying to regain a modicum of composure. When she did, she addressed the girl directly.

'Lady Cassia. I, Katov von Valancius, Rogue Trader of the Imperium of Man, offer you my protection and grant you shelter aboard my vessel, until such time as you reach the safety of your House.' Her steady voice, grave and serious, calmed the distraught girl, who looked at her with wild faith. The lord-captain then turned to the old man. 'I shall need a Navigator, though, and I had expected you, master, would perchance accompany us.'

A new hope lit the girl's expression, but her guardian shook his head in regret. 'I could not, even if duty didn't mandate my staying behind. My last forces were spent against Felek. But fear not. Child! You are ready to guide any vessel — I know this because I taught you myself. Get to the great Regent and fulfil your destiny! Follow your path through the Sea of Souls!'

'But… but what about my servants? Eurac V is still full of people loyal to House Orsellio!'

The lord-captain touched lady Cassia's elbow with concern, assuring her that all those who could be saved would be given succour aboard her ship. The net was closing around the young lady's fate.

'You can bring your paints, too,' added the lord-captain, and the girl beamed — a disturbing expression on a face already so touched by mutations.

'I shall need them to guide your ship through the dangers of the Immaterium,' the girl replied, correcting her posture and tone to those befitting a future Novator — the absolute ruler of her House. Her Ladyship nodded in agreement, and our guest — nay, our Navigator — continued, in a rush, as if she was afraid her courage might fail. 'Let us go. I can no longer bear the sight of the deathly pale shadows that drape the bodies of the fallen.'

Once back in the atrium, we slew the traitor Felek and his party; such a liar and betrayer deserved nothing else. On our way back to the Emperor's mercy, a bright flash told us the ultimate fate of Eurac V: the old man had taken his masters' secrets to the grave indeed.