The Leopards move through the thick forests of Haikk Five and arrive at the city of soldiers, Stratioupolis. Meeting with the commander of the Konstanin forces in the area, he quickly realizes that this mission will be just as difficult as anything he has done before.
But just as he thinks he is already in too deep, Anya gives him news that is hardly good in any way...
"Well, they don't really hate us. I think it's more of them wanting to just stay out of trouble. You can't really blame them for that."
"No, and I'd probably do the same if Anglerre was in this situation, God-Emperor ensure it never happens."
Sir Roger Wessyng and the Leopards were moving through the thick, almost untouched foliage that the Webway Gate had been placed in. Their Eldar compatriots were surprised that it worked given its age and condition, but considering everyone from Sir Erwan to Anya had arrived safely, it was good enough for him.
"How exactly did you know about this place?"
"I should ask you the same thing, kyrie ippoti."
Dekarkhes Bardas Taronites realized he spoke his native tongue by his new comrades' confused look.
"Sir knight, my apologies. As for knowing what is out here, mostly old maps from before we arrived and occupied the planet. What did you land in? Valkyries would have a hell of a time getting here."
"Secret, as is our mission."
"Oh no, more spies. It seems that everyone has a finger deep around here, rebel, Imperial, hell, I would bet the damned Inquisition as well. Maybe Xenos while we're at it."
"That would be something," Roger chuckled nervously, seeing the faint outline of Avengers and Scorpions moving alongside them. "Your scout is doing an excellent job at leading us out of here. I haven't heard him talk much though."
"Good luck with that," Stavros laughed. "You'll get nothing out of him no matter how hard you try!"
"Why's that?" Parky asked, nearly toppling over a log before Evita's arm shot out to hold him up.
"As you all may have noticed by his actions and armor, Janos is not like the rest of us Konstantins. He's from Trebizond, one of the outer planets in the Konstantonoi system. Mostly flat land and plenty of game, perfect for horse riding. Feral or barely feudal world that's mostly tribes of nomads and such. He comes from a group called the Cimyak, excellent light infantry and mounted bowmen. Then another tribe, the Mangoudai, they come out of nowhere and start wiping out all the others on the planet, we had to step in and restore order and balance."
"Mangods had a hundred thousand men, and the Basileus only sent a Tagma," Kydones said with pride.
"Basileus?" Sir Erwan asked.
"Our governor," Bardas explained. "Anyway, you send five thousand or so men with lasguns against a hundred thousand horse riding barbarians with bows and arrows, it isn't much of a fight. We kicked their asses and forced them back, but the Cimyak were scattered and decimated. Janos was one of them who ran west to safety before we arrived, but he had a run in with the bastards. Must have said something smart because they cut out his tongue."
The Anglois looked at their guide, his cone helmet with a thin point in the middle bobbing as he led them through the forest.
"Emperor above, is that true?"
Janos stopped and turned around to face Roger and the others, lifting his face plate and opening his mouth. True to the story, he revealed a shortened tongue, sticking what little of it was left out. Closing his mouth and grinning, he lowered the face plates mustachioed gaze and continued moving again.
"Savages," Sister Evita said under her breath.
"Agreed, but we recruit them because they're savages, Janos very much so. We hire men like him from his planet and the others in our system to fill our tithe. Lets more of the useful and decent people on Konstantonoi to continue their lives unhindered."
"Giving your defense to foreigners hardly seems like a good idea," Sir Erwan said questioningly. "Putting your faith in men who are only loyal to money… I can say from personal experience on the Marches that it is not the best."
"True. But you misunderstand me, I think. Our home defense is entirely recruited from locals, the Exkoubitores, what most others call a PDF. It's more sending out men to fight that we are less willing to send men out for."
"Don't like spending blood to defend the Imperium?" Davie asked with some menace.
Climbing atop some rocks, Bardas looked down at the fellow veteran and shrugged.
"I guess you could say that. It is one thing to fight for your family and home, another being sent to some hellhole like the Haikk system. Then expecting to force people to obey orders you barely understand from a planet you will never set foot on in your life sounds idiotic. That, and no one exactly rushes to become a murderer."
The collected Anglois and Sororitas, attempting to climb the set of rocks the Dekarkhes stood atop, paused, and looked at him in confusion or disbelief.
"You're a murderer?" Hawke asked.
"All of us Guardsmen are. For us, we must spend as much time in penance for killing as in the field."
"You… you think that your work is murder?"
Evita said this in a mix of bafflement and outrage.
"Don't bother trying to explain it Barbar," Cyril grumbled. "We've tried telling other Guard regiments about our beliefs and they never make sense of it."
"True. We should focus more on getting out of these damnable woods. If you want to ask about it, we can talk more at Stratioupolis."
Thankfully for the battered legs and exhausted bodies of everyone, they reached the edge of the forest and started moving down a well-maintained dirt road.
"Feudal world, so don't expect any roads paved with gold, but they do at least keep things well maintained. About the only decent thing on this planet."
Coming from one of the other Konstantins, it did not take Roger and the Leopards to quickly realize their new comrades hated being on Haikk Five. Janos might have agreed with them, but he was understandably not talkative. As the sun began to set over the horizon, they reached the stone brick walls of what translated into Low Gothic, as Bardas explained, the city of soldiers. At the main gate, Bardas called up one of the guards to get inside.
"What's that flag?" Hawk asked, pointing at the one fluttering above the gate.
It was very noticeable, even from a distance. Instead of the red and yellow preferred by the Imperium at large, it was a field of purple divided by a gold yellow cross. In the middle of each quarter was a symbol that looked like a "B," and in the center, the black, double-headed Aquila of the Imperium.
"The flag of Konstantonoi," Kydones said flatly. "A mix of our greatness and that of the Imperium's."
"Why purple?"
"The royal and most expensive color. It is as much a sign of our arrival as a sign of superiority."
"Interesting."
The guard and Bardas spoke in their native language, and with much gesticulation and jesting insults, the metal grate lifted. The Leopards were bombarded by the sounds of hundreds or thousands of people, the smells of exotic foods and ingredients mixing with the lights of taverns.
"Throne, it really is a city!" Sir Erwan said dumbly.
"A home away from home, yes? This part came up after we arrived. Not bad for almost two years, eh?"
Bardas took pleasure in amazing the foreigners, who had obviously been in a military camp or two before, but not like how his people did it.
"The walls protect this area, but the actual fortress is down that way in the corner. We should get there soon, but I will say-"
He bowed comically in front of the group, much to the amusement of his squad.
"Welcome to Stratioupolis."
XXXXXX
"For Thrones sake boy, how are you going to fight if you can't even aim at a target well!"
Wearing a white turban and well-made robes colored in red and yellow, Manuel Papagos, Komes of the Seventh Bandon, was certainly not having a good morning. It was not difficult commanding over two hundred Guardsmen, he had done so for years and in much worse circumstances. But to see even one of them be as neglectful of their lasgun training as the poor man in front of him? That was enough to make the commander's blood turn to lava. Even being in the saddle atop his favorite horse was unable to calm his mood.
"What, did you gamble your training off when you ran out of money at dice? Fire again!"
The Guardsman, trembling from his commander's rage, aimed down the sight of his expertly crafted weapon and fired. His target, a small silhouette, lost its head to a bright red flash.
"Finally! Good God-Emperor above, by the end of today, every shot of yours should look like that! Where's your Dekarkhes?"
"T-there, Komes-"
"Did you hear me? This man better be a damned marksman!"
"Yes sir!"
"Basil, tell the Bishop in Courtrek that he better pray we do not engage any enemies soon, or we would be run out of this whole damn city!"
Thoroughly annoyed and falling into the cycle of self-doubt once again, he grabbed at his wineskin and took a sip. It was awful, a local make that would be laughed out of even the most back alley, beggars ridden black market in the Golden City. His compatriot, Basil Argyros, second in command and experienced intelligence gatherer, watched with slight disappointment as he stood next to his officer and friend. His horse despised the one ridden by the Komes, necessitating him to be out of the saddle.
"It is still morning, Manuel."
"And if the men keep slacking, there will be plenty of mourning on Konstantonoi. Dammit man, how did we get to this point."
"No action, surrounded by the apathetic, rebels hiding deep underground… Do you want me to go on?"
"For my mind's sake, no."
Basil was about to make another comment when he heard the clank of mail and armor getting louder, coming from the barracks in the fort. Manuel noticed as well, seeing two figures in armor, one wearing a blue jacket, the other black with a white flower.
"Who are they?"
"The men sent from the Langriano."
"The Normanni?"
"Yes."
It was an ancient term, once referring to warriors from the north by their Terran ancestors. Foreigners. Ones who should be feared for their ability and desire for land or power.
The two spoke quietly with one another as Roger and Erwan approached.
"Which one do you think is their commander?" the Avalonian queried sarcastically.
"I would think the one in the golden robes."
"Well, at least they don't lack self-esteem. But I bet it goes to self-importance."
"Any idea how to handle these people?"
"Don't say anything that would hurt their sensibilities. If you do, try to use your noble charm to keep them from killing us."
"Minor noble, I do not know how much help I can be."
The elegantly dressed man climbed off his horse and handed its reins to a nearby Guardsman, moving alongside his plain looking comrade towards them.
"Should we bow when he approaches?"
"You know how to salute, right?"
"With the sword?"
"With your hand. Right one, towards your brow. If he doesn't like that, he can sod off. We're here to help him, not the other way around."
As the two pairs met, the Anglois gave a salute, which was thankfully met with respect and understanding.
"Komes Papagos?"
"You must be Sir Roger."
The two Konstantins returned the gesture by pounding their chests once and sticking their right arms out at a forty-five-degree angle. Erwan thought the custom strange, but did not ask for any explanation.
"I apologize for not seeing you immediately last night. I had a long day and needed rest."
"As did me and my troops. This is my second in command, Sir Erwan Kerhoued."
"Greetings, Sire Erwan. I also regret that you see my Guardsmen this way, barely able to hit a GODDAMN TARGET FROM MERELY 50 METERS AWAY!"
The man at the firing line visibly cringed at the berating, the other men, servants or soldiers, grinning or snickering in amusement.
"I am certain that plenty of Anglois are a bit rusty given our laxity as of late. The men you sent to get us were more than capable."
"And who was that?" the other man asked. "Ah, Basil Argyros, second in command of Stratioupolis and the Eighth Bandon."
"Dekarkhes Bardas Taronites," Erwan answered.
"Ah, Taronites! Good man, his Dekarkhia is among the best we have. Even have that Cimyak with them."
"Is that uncommon?"
Papagos nodded.
"They normally stay with their own. We have a group of twenty or so as part of our cavalry for quick responses. Excellent riders and warriors."
"The one we were with, Janos, he was a fantastic guide."
"We know of him. He is an excellent scout and knows this area as well as his homeland. But we can discuss more pressing matters in my quarters."
They moved towards the fort, a surprisingly familiar sight for the Anglois. The towers at the front and corners of the building reminded them much of the castles back home, but instead of the grayish, drab stone that they used, the Konstantins preferred a lighter, more vibrant set of materials, topped with terracotta roofs. But that was nothing compared to the relative extravagance behind its walls, with an entire section for bathing, a steam sauna and pool-sized body of water within. To say the Leopards were impressed would be a massive understatement.
"Where are the rest of your men?"
"One of the less used parts of your main barracks, Komes. And the tower you prepared for me and Sir Erwan if necessary."
"I take it they were not offended by the arrangements?"
"They lived a bit better on the Starfort, but this is absolute luxury given their average mission. Sir Erwan and I appreciate our accommodations."
"Good to hear! It is of foremost importance to the Konstantins that guests leave with nothing but compliments about us."
"You will find no issues with that," Erwan said politely.
Reaching the Komes quarters in one of the other towers, he noticed the stack of parchments on his desk.
"Orders and other reports from Crusade Command," Roger explained. "I would tell you what they were, but I do not like prying into others documents."
"A good skill to have if one wishes to keep friends," the Komes agreed.
"But one that I hope you do not extend to our enemies," Basil said calmly, moving to a nearby window.
"So, you are here to help us secure the middle of Zchwarwoud?" Papagos said with a grunt as he sat behind his desk.
"Zchwarwoud?"
"This part of Haikk Five. Means black forest in a few languages of whoever settled this miserable dump. I and the rest of my fellow commanders believe that an outsider's touch is necessary to re-establish Imperial influence through the region."
The two knights processed this information before Basil sighed and turned to them.
"Before you ask, we have tried to do so here for a while, but we did not exactly… deal with the rebels here very politely."
"I was told that there was no rebellion on Haikk Five."
"A half-truth," the Komes said with a bit of discomfort, skimming through the parchments. "There was no official rebellion where the government was overthrown, but it took our Tagma about a year to secure everything. We burned villages, executed leaders and anyone believed to be helping them… unpleasant, but I have little sympathy for these cultureless, fucking barbarians."
The sudden shift in tone and words surprised the two, Roger quickly glancing at Erwan.
"So, we're here to clean up your mess?"
"Essentially. We beat the rebellion, but you and your men are new, fresh. You do not fight under the purple banner and are not Cimyak. They took the idea of chasing and destroying the rebels with great enthusiasm. Those metal face masks they like? The people of Haikk Five know from every corner of this planet to run when they see them."
"Well, if we have to be the knights in shining armor to show the Imperium is here to help, then so be it."
"I like your enthusiasm, Sir Roger. I have been pessimistic since before I was old enough to serve the Emperor."
"What can you tell me about the locals?"
Basil cleared his throat and pulled out a map. Unfolding it on the desk, Roger figured out that it was his stomping ground for the next month or so.
"Most of these people live in feudal servitude, villages, towns, a few cities. Considering your skill set, horses are necessary. We reminded them that the Imperium is technologically more advanced and more powerful than they could dream, but you are to reassure them that the status quo will not change anytime soon. The locals do not like us, and the feeling is mutual. But they do have plenty of issues: bandits and outlaws roaming the forests and roads, small wars between communities, and sometimes, their superstitions make it damn near impossible to do anything of use."
Erwan looked up from the map to ask a surprisingly good question.
"Superstitious how?"
"Oh, they believe that ancient beings haunt this planet," the Komes snorted. "Ancient structures with unreadable scrawling's, pyramids made of glass. Nonsense."
Rogers' ears perked up instantly. Those kinds of structures and language sounded all too familiar to him.
"And what of the Church here? Did they support the rebels?"
The two Konstantins stopped what they were doing and looked at each other before Basil answered.
"We do not know, honestly. Our men stay with our own churches and beliefs, not mingling with the locals. I prefer not to step foot out of the areas we control with good reason. You would have to ask the locals, but we never had to deal with any issues from those of the cloth, at least to my knowledge.
"Understandable," he said politely while cursing in his mind.
He would have to figure out if the Temple Tendency had dug itself in here on his own. He did not relish or enjoy the thought, especially given his last interaction with them.
"Do you need us to help in any missions or operations?" Erwan asked again.
"No, we have things under control. For now."
Papagos seemed unenthusiastic in his answer, and judging by his opinion of their Guardsmen, it was not hard to see why.
"Make this place safer for the Imperium and do whatever your master's on the Langriano want you to complete. That is your job. We will do the heavy lifting."
"Sounds fair Komes."
"Be glad that you only command a handful of men and not hundreds of them."
Papagos stood as he said this, the two knights rising as well.
"I will leave you to your duties."
He shook their hands and bowed slightly.
"Welcome to Stratioupolis gentlemen. I hope your stay will be pleasant."
"Thank you, Komes. We'll get to work."
The two stepped out, their bright jackets disappearing through the tower door. Papagos put the parchment he was reading down on his desk and turned to Basil, who went back to staring out the window.
"What do you think of them, Bas?"
"We have been sent worse Manuel. I do not believe that they were sent here to spy on us if that is what you mean."
"I thought they would have sent more than seven men. Delphinas made it seem like Edmund was sending the best he had to offer."
"They are more than meets the eye, I'm certain. Do you want me to investigate?"
Basil was an expert in intelligence gathering, as comfortable being a spy as a commander of men. Papagos shook his head.
"Not now. Maybe if they are not what they seem. Or get in our way."
"Yes, Komes."
"Now help me with these reports. Cadian handwriting is atrocious."
XXXXXX
"Goddamn, where was this food all my life?"
Sat around a table piled with meat, vegetables, and fruits of various kinds, the Leopards were gorging themselves, except for Evita, Roger, and Erwan.
"Davie, look at this!" Hawke said with a mouth full of food. "It's leaves wrapped around rice and meat!"
"Leaves?"
"It's bloody delicious."
"How's yours Rog?"
"It's meat in a bread wrap with some kind of sauce. It's very good Davie. Also, you got something on your… actually it's all over you. Never mind."
"Throne, this pastry is delicious," Parky nearly cried out. "There's honey on top of it!"
Evita looked disappointedly at the salad she took, chunks of marble white cheese and olives scattered about the lettuce. She was trying to keep herself in good health and shape but was also disgusted at the sheer gluttony around her.
"Parky, swallow before you speak."
"Right, sorry Eve. You want some?"
"Maybe later. Sir Roger, Sir Erwan, I wanted to ask if you know where the nearest place of worship here is? Did the commander here tell you?"
"We didn't get a chance to ask, I'm afraid," Roger said as he watched Bob pour some yellow liquid on a plate of food. "I'd go on one of the walls and look around, I'd doubt there wouldn't be one around here."
With a slight nod, the Sororitas poked at her food in piety. Her glances at the plate of desserts were slight, but noticeable. He wondered if it would survive the night before his thoughts were interrupted by a slight nudge from Erwan.
"Where are the Speridou?" he whispered.
"They made camp somewhere on the outskirts around here. When we figure out our first move, they'll move with us, don't you worry."
"Good. I hope to see them at work soon. My grandfather fought with them once. He said they were as vicious as they were graceful."
"I can attest to that personally. Don't worry, you'll see them in action in short time."
"Pass the wine Rog," Davie belched from across the table.
Erwan watched in surprise as he handed the bottle over, nodding at the serjeants wink of thanks.
"Knights should be given drinks by peasants, not the opposite," the Vretan said disapprovingly.
"I'm not a normal knight, and I was a peasant like him once. I frankly don't give a damn."
Suddenly uncomfortable, Erwan stood from the table, having finished his plate.
"Men, Sister. I am going to retire tonight. I will see you all in the morning."
A few waves and nods greeted his departure, the sound of metal boots echoing into silence down the hall.
"Hey Rog," Davie asked while he wiped his mouth. "What's his problem?"
"Who?"
"Erwan. Sir Erwan, sorry."
"I didn't know he had a problem."
"Well, don't you think he's a bit odd? Off?"
"Never struck me that way."
"I mean, I worked and served with Vretans many times, so they're already different, but something's not right. I can't put my finger on it, but I can feel it."
Hawke grunted in agreement as he shoved a piece of meat in his mouth as Bob shrugged.
"Noted, Davie. But he's new, we have to give him a chance."
"We could kill him-"
"Shut up Hawke," Bob said.
The former thief did so, always taking the few things his elderly compatriot said to heart, or at the very least taking the effort to listen.
"Do as he says. We're not killing anybody, least without a good reason. And just saying they're a bit odd and having no real answer as to why is hardly enough of one to be taken seriously."
The table fell silent, Roger thankful that his men still listened to him. But he was suddenly filled with a sense of dread and doubt. It was one thing to be suspected by Eldar, even worse if your human fellows did as well. He calmed himself and turned to Evita and Parky, looking at the young man in particular. He was growing his hair out again, golden in the electrical lights that were wired throughout the fort. The knight had a feeling that Evita had something to do with that, having never liked the military cut he had recently adopted.
"What do you think Parky? Somethings wrong with Erwan to you?"
"Er… I mean, for a knight, he's typical."
"You know many knights boy?" Davie laughed.
"My father was a farrier, sarge. And Sir Fitzwood always let us stay at Castle Bergwick, so I would think I know the higher parts of society."
"I was only teasing."
"Well, point is, Vretans are not like us Avalonians, but there is something weird about him."
"Fine, but what exactly?"
Parky sniffed and used his fork to play with his food.
"Dunno. Just feel it."
"You feel it?" Roger asked.
"Sometimes you must trust your gut Sir. And my gut says that something is weird about Sir Erwan. Is that a crime?"
"Of course not. I just wanted a consensus among the Leopards."
"You asked what I thought, and I gave you an answer. Sorry sir."
"Nothing to be sorry for, you did what I asked. Thank you. I think I've had my fill, so I'm going to go stand guard on the walls for a bit. Get a lay of the land and clear my head."
"We'll save some food for you Boss."
Roger laughed as he stood up, shaking his head.
"I think you've used up what little hospitality the cooks here had for guests at this rate lads."
He grabbed his helmet and tapped Evita on the shoulder, winking at her as a sign that even if Davie was their serjeant, he trusted her to get everyone to bed in one piece. She bowed her head in acknowledgement and wished him good night, along with the others. Stepping out of the barracks building they were quartered in, he began the long walk up the stairs leading to the walkway along the walls. Putting his helmet on but leaving the visor up, he reached the top with little difficulty thanks to his armor. He had worn it all day despite its clunkiness and intimidating looks, and while it may not have protected as well as Evita's power armor, from what she told him the heat and odor made even the best protection almost unbearable. He looked out into the surprisingly well-lit and maintained city, wondering how the Konstantins were able to put it all up so quickly.
"Poios páei ekeí?" a voice asked to his right.
Roger turned to the challenge, figuring it was the Konstantin phrase for asking who was there. Sure enough, a fully equipped Guardsman in their uniform moved closer, lasgun at the ready.
"Er, friend. Fíle. Angloka."
The Guardsman moved closer and nodded.
"Apologies," he said, switching to Low Gothic. "You are the knight staying here?"
"One of them. You have a lot of problems here?"
"Not really. Men on the outer walls are the real patrols, but we must keep appearances and show we are secure everywhere. Most of my patrol is sitting in the tower, trying not to fall asleep. Patrol the walls every half hour or so, do that for about eight of them and then get to sleep."
"Night duty?"
"Sure is."
"My apologies. I want to look around for a little bit, so if you want to go back to the tower and stay out of the chill here, I can do that for you."
The Konstantin lit up with a smile.
"You are too kind, sir knight. I accept. Just come to the tower and let me know when you leave."
"Certainly. I'll make sure Stratioupolis doesn't burn down in the meanwhile."
"I would appreciate it!"
The Konstantin walked off to the tower, closing its heavy wooden door behind him. Roger continued to stare out at the city and landscape, which in some ways reminded him of the greenery of Anglerre, even his home county of Susich. But Haikk Five was as flat as it was forested, meaning there was much to move through, hide in, and get away quickly if necessary. The more he thought about it, the less this mission seemed desirable, let alone completable. He let out a sigh as it all began to hit him, but there was another reason he reacted in such a way.
"I don't know what's worse. That Eldar are able to stay hidden so obviously in plain sight, or the average Guardsman is so unaware they never see anything staring them in the face."
Anya was sitting on one of the parapets that lined the walls, as comfortable as one could be sitting on stone and having their feet dangling off the fifty or so feet below to the ground.
"If it makes you feel any better, the Space Marines I have laid low did no better."
"At this rate, I'll somehow find a way to get them to join the Leopards as well. What a group we are: two knights in various states of trouble, a group of Anglois ne'er do well Guardsmen, a lovesick Sororitas, and a full set of Xenos along for the ride. It's like the start of an awful joke."
He pulled out a wineskin he snuck off the table and took a sip. He offered it to the Ranger, who politely refused.
"These humans you now work with have a high opinion of themselves."
"We finally found some as arrogant and self-absorbed as your species. Should make for quite a show."
She was looking out at the horizon as he was, but the smirk on her face stayed long enough for him to see.
"Getting a tower to yourself was quite a catch, as your people say."
"Private, considering it's on the far corner of the fort."
"How wonderful it is to be with a partner that puts you into consideration."
"I won't lie and say that I was unhappy with the idea."
They looked on in silence for a few moments before she spoke again.
"Your thoughts are unclear and filled with worry."
"I thought coming here would be a good thing, getting back to old times. But I think I bit off more than I could chew, so you, your kin, and the Lads will suffer for it."
"We will brave whatever storm we shall be thrown into. You have taken us to places much worse and dangerous."
"Throne, I hope so. Where are you all at?"
"Deep in the forests," she said while pointing into the thick collection of trees to the southwest of the city gates. "From prying eyes and lost travelers, but close enough that we can be nearby as soon as possible."
He nodded, satisfied that they had been able to adapt and make camp as well as they did. It was definitely more difficult than the Langriano, maybe more than the Cathedral on Haikk Four, but it was still decent.
"Roger, there is something I wanted to tell you now that we are alone."
"Oh?"
"It is not about the relationship between us, but your people and mine."
"And what would that be?"
She swung her legs towards the walkway and moved next to him. She towered over him, being at least seven feet tall compared to his five-foot seven stature.
"The Webway Gate we arrived here from. Did you notice anything odd about it?"
"Other than it looked like it was about to fall apart at any moment and made me wonder if Wraithbone was all you made it out to be, not really."
"It is incredibly old, certainly. But the gate we use on your Starfort is a version used for military purposes. The one we arrived here with is a civilian model, older than anything we have ever seen in this system."
"So?"
Anya looked at him in the eyes, a cold seriousness behind her blue eyes.
"Roger, this system was settled by my kin thousands of cycles ago, older even. To find a gate in such conditions given that period of time is no surprise, but the fact it operates as well as it does…"
She paused in reflection, attempting to explain it in a way that he would understand.
"It was repaired recently. But not by our hands."
"What does that mean?"
"There are other Eldar here. On Haikk Five."
He looked at her in surprise and a bit of confusion.
"Another Craftworld?"
"It was not done well and was haphazard at best. The fact we were able to reach it from the Starfort was nothing short of miraculous."
"Wonderful. But who then?"
Her pained expression gave him all the answers he needed.
"The bad ones? Who like spikes and torturing anything or anyone they get their hands on?"
"Very likely, yes."
"Great. I'd ask how this could get any worse, but knowing you-"
"The fact they are here, and remnants of our former empire are scattered on this planet, waiting to be stolen and used for evil purposes… it cannot stand."
"Of course. So I'm helping the Imperium, the Konstantins, the Inquisition, the Holy Church, and the forces of the Aeldari race. I just need to get jobs from a Navigator house and a Rogue Trader so I can say with utter certainty how fucked my life's become. Pardon my Franc."
He placed his arms on one of the parapets and rested his head on them, feeling a headache coming on.
"Unfortunately, this may necessitate something rather important for you."
"And that is?"
"Mother… may come to assist us during our stay here."
Roger buried his face in his arms, feeling an arm on his shoulder.
"It is best you know before she arrives."
"Yeah. Thanks, Anya."
He lifted his head and shook it.
"Maybe I'm not that lucky after all."