Ah, the joy of being at Warp again! Nothing compares to the familiar sounds of a frigate sailing through currents that would tear a lesser vessel to shreds. I am no voidborn, of course, but on these days I feel as if I were.

Our business wrapped up nicely on Janus (barely three weeks, most efficient!), Her Ladyship steered us towards Footfall. Our dear lady Cassia set us boldly on a direct course, eschewing the systems we had painstakingly trudged through on our outward journey. Today was our third day spent braving the dangers of the Immaterium and, in typical xenos attitude, Yrliet Lanaevyss broke the peace just when I was about to relax despite her presence aboard. The incident was first brought to me, of course, but anything involving someone of Her Ladyship's retinue must be judged by her, and her alone — and she would have been pretty miffed, to say the least, had I taken the kind of initiative that involves a xenos and an airlock.

The command throne, when in movement, is always an impressive sight. Tech-priests spend a good deal of holy lubricant and even more litanies of frictionless motion on it every day so that the lord-captain may change its orientation from prow to stern as she wishes, either to supervise the helm or to grant an audience from the seat of her power. I had roped in van Calox when crossing the bridge; he had given a sharp look at the xenos, walking in disdainful strides among the enforcers, before following us. The chirurgeons only kept him for a few days after his misadventure with the daemonette, which is a testament to a biomancer's resilience, although he still moves a bit more stiffly at times. We positioned each other on either sides of the lord-captain's throne, ready to intervene if needed.

On a sign of Her Ladyship's hand, the enforcers began their accusatory tale. It was short enough: the eldar had shot, in cold blood, a woman of the crew who had been a promising midshipman.

Her Ladyship listened twice to the account and asked Yrliet Lanaevyss if these accusations were true.

'They are, elantach,' she replied with all the morgue that is hers.

'What explanation for your actions can you give?'

The eldar spoke calmly, as if half a dozen weapons of various kinds were not trained against her — as if she stood still tall in the forests of Janus, her disdainful eyes the green of leaves and her garb anything else than alien to her surroundings.

'Asuryan knows that I do not care about the curious glances of the mon-keigh. They curse me from afar, they follow my every move, they ward themselves against me…' There she marked a pause, collecting herself. 'And still… one mon-keigh's stunt has caused the cusp of my patience to spill over. She dared to approach me… to speak to me… and, touching my hand, she suggested that we withdraw somewhere private.'

'Fraternisation with a xenos,' I heard van Calox mutter. 'Unspeakable heresy. That madwoman is certainly no major loss.'

Were xenos able to pale in disgust, I would have said Yrliet Lanaevyss did. Her fine features contorted in revulsion as she continued her testimony.

'Kae-morag!' she spat. 'The mere memory of it stirs a tempest in my soul!' She was so overwhelmed by emotion that her body started to tremble. 'Try to imagine, elantach, being lusted after by a wild beast. It is… foul. Disgusting. So vile that it makes your very soul shudder.'

'A repelling thought indeed,' muttered again van Calox.

From atop her throne, the lord-captain coughed loudly. Van Calox looked chastised. I have kept an eye on them, but our different duties on Janus kept us separated often: while Her Ladyship dealt with finding a replacement for Vistenza Vyatt, meeting with most of the loyal major families, van Calox had been assigned any and everything relative to the cleansing of heresy and I, assisted by the most capable Mistress Heydari, had laid the foundations for rebuilding trade convoys — first to Footfall, and then to the rest of the protectorate and the Expanse, once routes are navigable again, Emperor willing.

'My people have behaved contemptibly, and I apologise for it,' said Her Ladyship. 'It is my understanding that touch, to your people, is a most intimate gesture?'

'Indeed. That a, a mon-keigh dared… I felt sullied beyond reason, by a filth so insidious and noxious never, in my years, I met its like — an invasive will, a contemptuous despoilment of my being.'

While the eldar was certainly dramatic, her words reminded me uncomfortably of other situations I had to deal with most severely in the past. But to kill the perpetrator herself, knowing full well how badly we all are disposed towards her! She should have trusted in the lord-captain's justice instead of dealing her own. Human thoughts and actions obviously elude her, despite her time in Vyatt's employ, and I do wish she will be able to make sense of them, otherwise our travels will be punctuated by a series of cadavers slain in perceived self-defence.

'I shall speak to my subjects,' said Her Ladyship — which startled me, it being the very first time I heard her refer to the crew in that (very rightful) way. She recently removed Lady Theodora's portrait from her antechamber, relocating it to the Gallery of the Offices where past Rogue Traders look upon the High Factotum's bustling realm. Her own portrait is still being worked upon. But Her Ladyship wasn't done.

'You will not be bothered again, Yrliet,' she said. 'As for the slaying of Midshipman Forcade, I hold it a legitimate reaction to an assault that, while seemingly minor for us, was akin to rape in your eyes. The punishment for this offence, when committed by military personnel in uniform, being death, I hold Midshipman Forcade guilty and order that no pension shall be served to her relict and next of kin. However, Midshipman Forcade having probably been unaware of this difference in our cultures, no mark of dishonour shall be made on her record. And as for you, Yrliet Lanaevyss, you are free to walk away, having only acted to protect yourself, which is an Emperor-given right that belongs to all of us who serve Him, be they human or not — and as I serve Him, all those who follow me serve Him too.'

It was my impression that the eldar didn't exactly appreciate those last words, but Her Ladyship's reasoning was impeccable. In truth, her experience in these matters was invaluable today! Left to my own devices, bereft of her acumen, I would have failed to notice the sin that sullied the midshipman's soul and indeed would have required the most stringent of punishments (although in the Navy we rather sent this particular breed of criminals to be servitorised rather than shot). Once both the eldar and the enforcers had cleared the floor, Her Ladyship beckoned me.

'Abelard, would you please draft a communiqué to be distributed ship-wide and that says, in essence: don't touch the eldar; otherwise, if you survive her, you won't survive the lord-captain?'

'Absolutely, lord-captain,' I said. 'It was quite urbane of Mistress Yrliet to spare us the cost of a firing squad, after all.'

I have to say our arrival at Footfall was triumphant! Once we translated in the Furibundus system and were able to reliably transmit our presence and, more importantly, that of the two grain barges that flanked us, it was only a matter of time before Liege Tocara sent back a transmission that, while still restrained, for him approached the threshold of delirious joy. While the Emperor's Mercy could have flown like an arrow to our port of destination, we were restrained to a sedate stroll through the void by the Pride of Encarmine and the Trygon's own limited engines, and the journey from the Mandeville point was long enough for us to get many messages of welcome from all those who would trade with us. Her Ladyship, however, has been clear: three-quarters of our relief cargo shall go to Tocara, and the rest to the Navy to supply His Imperial Majesty's vessels in the Expanse. No private dealings are to be done with the Janus supplies. A cheap, if effective way, to help Captain Thorfast look the other way on some of our potential activities, I am sure. On the other hand, the Emperor's Mercy herself carries enough miscellaneous cargo — confiscated property from heretical families on Janus, mainly — to allow for more than enough commerce with those who would have in their possession articles of interest to us. I have claimed for myself a crate of excellent beverages the Adeptus Amasecus management will not fail to appreciate: I may enjoy the atmosphere of the place, but my patronage comes with a need for better stuff than their usual specialties.

I don't expect us to stay long: the lord-captain is understandably quite anxious to find roads to Kiava Gamma and Dargonus and I have only issued three-day leaves. The crew better not complain, as they just had ample opportunity to sample the delights of the Janus sky even if it entailed, for some, running around with guns doing their duty to House von Valancius.

We docked quite late in the day — too late to disembark, and dinner was had in the mess hall instead of some more festive establishment. A quarter of ale, however, had been ordered for all to celebrate the end of another successful Warp journey, and the mood was quite congenial when Her Ladyship made her appearance. There is this feeling of hope, of late, among the crew: we had left the Koronus Expanse on what should have been an uneventful journey back to the Imperium in order to collect Lady Theodora's heirs, and the severity of Warp storms had taken us, I am ashamed to say, at unawares. Not that the Maw is ever easy to navigate! And the way back was, of course, much worse, with the Gellar fields breaching, the Master of Whispers being a traitor, and Lady Theodora's untimely death. Discovering, on top of that, that those storms had all but wiped travel routes and cut us from our friends and families, had been a blow. Only the voidborn, I believe, truly relished the challenge: most of us were content with girding our loins and bearing our hardships in the name of the God-Emperor. But finding Janus has done wonders to us all — even me, although I naturally always kept faith — and having once again a safe course to run between the protectorate and Footfall feels just like old times.

The chair on Her Ladyship's left was uncommonly empty, which made her frown: it is now van Calox's place, as he dines here often enough that he needs not hover threateningly anymore to get his choice of seat. No one enjoys a contest of rank when hungry and all officers who could claim the spot have decided to save themselves the pain. I saw the lord-captain's hand go to the vox box at her waist, as if she intended to enquire about our Interrogator's whereabouts, but she didn't follow on this impulse and took her place, beckoning everyone to move up a spot.

Our glasses were filled with a snappy red wine and Her Ladyship rose to toast; today's was To ourselves, our swords, our ship! From the assembly came the traditional reply — For nobody else will think of our well-being, which is perhaps my favourite — people drank, and entrées were served. Her Ladyship stuck her fork in one of the small roasted mushrooms with cheese that filled our plates and, turning to me, said most seriously: 'Abelard, I need your help on a very delicate matter.'

'Of course, lord-captain,' I replied while cutting one of my mushrooms.

'You have had children.' Oh, my life played before my eyes! I was suddenly ready for anything and had a nightmarish vision of trying to keep a very pregnant lord-captain safe from harm. 'And of us you are the one closest to Cassia, I think.' Ha. I drank some water and repressed a sigh of relief before agreeing with Her Ladyship. She ate several mushrooms impaled on her fork and, mouth full, stated she was worried about our dear Head Navigator.

'I feel that she resents me for keeping her away the day we took down Vistenza Vyatt — and I'm glad that I did, because her place certainly was not in a nest of cultists. Even if she wasn't the future Novator of her House, she's way too young for that.'

I considered a while the crowd of officers eating below us; some still very young, who had apprenticed first as voidsmen or master's mate before they grew hair in their armpits. Myself I had first served as an officer's servant when I was eleven, and received the finest education aboard the Twilight Angel until I made it to lieutenant at nineteen. Oh, I scrubbed some floors — what a rascal I was in those years! — but I took great pride in having, when the occasion arose, done my part against demons of the Warp and other enemies. 'I think, lord-captain,' I carefully articulated, 'you have pinpointed the problem. Lady Cassia feels, I am afraid, that you consider her a child and tend to coddle her accordingly, while she yearns to see some action.'

Her Ladyship frowned, munching on the last of her mushrooms, which made the scar on her cheek stand out. 'She is young. She wasn't raised like us, Abelard: no one gave her a laspistol as soon as she could read the litany of maintenance. No drill abbot taught her how to face an enemy intent on killing her. Cassia is brave, but it's not enough; she was raised a noble lady and I trust her judgment on intrigue and such, but…'

'Lady Cassia holds you in great esteem, lord-captain,' I said. 'Your opinion of her can make or break her; why not give her a chance? The young, after all, learn better than old hands. She could be trained as an officer, if only for a while. Her mastery over the Veil can certainly replace weapons proficiency.'

Our plates were changed: it is customary for the next course to be brought whenever the lord-captain is done and, ever since she has taken to presiding over the mess, people have learned to eat faster. The rich, spicy smell of taigu stew titillated my nostrils like a joygirl dancing before the freshly enlisted and I dove right in.

'I do remember the man she killed on the steps to Vistenza Vyatt's palace,' reluctantly agreed Her Ladyship, playing with her stew. 'You would advise training her, then?'

'I do, lord-captain. First teach her the things she will most need: how to take cover, how to advance across open ground, how to mount guards and how to build a parapet… This can be done safely on board. She has read a lot about war; it is my opinion that her finding an appeal in such rightful violence is a result of her sheltered upbringing. You may find she has a better grasp of tactics than could be expected.'

Her Ladyship, now, was the one looking at the company filling the mess. 'I've had experience with the very young on the field,' she said. 'They shouldn't be used there. I'm not afraid of Cassia throwing a grenade in the fire to see what it does; she has too much sense, I hope, for this sort of idiocy. Sixteen years old? Scouts, messengers, and even better back doing the cooking and laundry. They need too much sleep. I remember dragging a boy out of his bedroll by the heel of his boot after he slept through both the morning call and the order for retreat because an orbital strike had been called nearby.'

'Dear Emperor,' I cried, 'what did you do to him?'

'Nothing. I was a Commissar, not a monster. The fright he got when we were the last ones to make it to safety and felt the heat of the strike on the back of our necks was enough of a lesson.' She stopped and added, reluctantly: 'People mostly remember the trigger-happy Commissars — those who get caught in friendly fire accidents, or even get fragged in their own tents. But if maintaining a regiment's morale does mean sometimes making an example or two, it more often than not entails getting out of trouble the idiot boy they all adopted as a younger brother. Although it was my private opinion that a goat would have made for a better mascot — and would probably have shot straighter, too.' With this, she dug in her plate. The occasions on which Her Ladyship reminisces her life in the Commissariat are few and far in between; I still haven't gotten to the bottom of her reaction to the mention of live fire exercises.

I emptied my glass and waved it aimlessly. 'While you do have a point, lord-captain, what we, of your retinue, do, is most unlike what happens on an infantry front. We are a strike team, first and foremost, and do not stay posted in trenches for months at a time.'

The look Her Ladyship shot was too serious to be genuinely so. 'Abelard, I may agree to get Cassia made into whatever shape of cadet you think will please her, but do not try to sell her to me as a Tempestus Scion. Their carapace armour would be much too heavy for her.'

And with that, it was agreed. I shall bring the good news to Lady Cassia in the morning. Her Ladyship herself has expressed an interest in training her in person, and we will certainly mount exercises together. It should occupy nicely those long warp travels!