Chapter 1: Adrift
Shouts of panic and cries of despair were drowned out by the long days of waiting, as the gellar rampart was the only knowledge of sanctity within the Clad in Ire's adamantium walls. Fear and nervousness had overtaken many of the crew, as they all knew it would only be a matter of time before the warp entities who crashed upon the field cracked through the barriers. It could be in a matter of minutes or a matter of days.
Faust van Decimbrus, firstborn son of House Decimbrus, was not a happy man. He was shaking, but not in fear or paranoia. One would think even a seasoned Rogue Trader would fear the warp, and they would be right, but Faust shook in pure, barely filtered rage rather than any semblance of hopelessness. To most aboard the Clad in Ire, they knew why he was… in a foul mood, to say the least.
Faust's knuckles were ceramite white as they gripped the side of his armrests while he sat uncomfortably upon his throne, an impatient knee bouncing up and down bothering him further. Of course this had to have happened on the day of his anniversary of gaining the Warrant of Trade, and to add oil to the fire, it was during a very important deal between House Decimbrus and House Vinrexus. Faust and his ship currently held a great many items of arcane importance from the three years he had been out in the Koronus Expanse—with most of the time simply exploring empty space. But what he did find on the occasion of finding a planet were timeless artifacts, valuable but rare pieces of archeotech, and the most significant, information. All at the cost of some men, yes, but that's what they were paid to do. Though notably, Faust wasn't a coward in any regard, as he had also spearheaded any expedition with whatever retinue he could find for the day.
It would have been more than just a payday, it should have been more than a celebration upon returning, there had to have been a happy reunion upon seeing his younger siblings. Johann would have been maintaining House Decimbrus' hive city on Archimedon II, likely helped by Georgie, as she spent many crowns on the reunion festival. Oddly, none of them were at their throats vying for power. Johann was content with ruling the hive city with their father and wanted nothing to do with adventures. Georgie didn't care at all, rather wanting to spend as much as possible. It was an anomaly in the Imperium, but it granted strength, knowing their family could at least watch each other's backs.
But while his familial ties were very much real, the scenario on returning was hypothetical, and loathe he were to admit, a slight chance at being impossible. The Clad in Ire, while making the journey back through the warp, had gone through the very friendly method of sabotage. Sabotage which had drastic effects immediately, as they targeted not one, but three important areas. The plasma drive for the engine, the warp drive, and the gellar rampart.
If the plasma drive were to be damaged, they would have no way of moving through the galactic void. If the warp drive were damaged, it would have been catastrophic for the entire crew. Faust was incredibly happy about getting a gellar rampart rather than using a comatose psyker's dreams, but it cost… a very hefty amount from the Kin of Votann or whatever they liked to call themselves. But it was completely worth the bartering of artifacts and archeotech, as they already had the navigator's to control their path through the warp, combining technological prowess with Imperial navigators. Where was he? Oh, yes, sabotage, they were also trying to sabotage the gellar rampart, which Faust didn't even want to think about the after effects that would happen.
Worst of all, this sabotage came directly from House Vinrexus, the fragging bastards. Faust was successful in meeting them, but they had demanded more than what they had initially bargained for, and Faust was none too keen on sharing his years worth of exotic goods. Faust really should have been more suspicious when they backed off completely, abandoning even the aspect of bartering for the original supplies and leaving only a "boycott" on trading with their house. That would be the last time he ever hired mercenaries from their house as well. Those rats couldn't hold their tongue at who had hired them either, especially with the incentive of not being thrown out the airlock while they were traveling through the warp. Of course, Faust did it anyway, though he did give them the mercy of being gunned down first. Faust was many things, but unnecessary cruelty was not molded into his persona.
Faust rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing in anger at both himself and the Vinrexus'. During their little rebellion on the lower decks, they were unfortunately successful at breaking through the defenses of the warp drive. Faust had commanded his voidsmen to defend any and all important facilities, while he ordered any Astra Militarum personnel he borrowed from the Imperium to hunt down the saboteurs on deck. The only silver lining was they weren't stupid enough to completely blow the warp drive to Holy Terra and back, as that would ensure total annihilation of everything in the numerous cargo holds.
Now, though, it had been roughly a week of time as they were adrift in the warp current. The warp drive was completely unusable in its current state, and Delta's enginseers and servitors were working countless hours making sure it was kept in a state of calm. They were stretched far too thin, working on the gellar rampart and maintaining slight repairs on the engines.
A loud, ominous rumble shook the bridge, disrupting Faust's idle thoughts and causing many of his menials to look around in fright. That did not bode well at all. A groan of metal wailing in the warp echoed throughout the halls of the bridge. Faust grumbled standing up, fixed his maroon dress suit with white highlights in its hem, and ran his fingers through his black hair. He sniffled as he scratched his nose, before clearing his throat as he leaned over the railing.
"At ease, my valiant compatriots!" He commanded, shouting with the authority of a commissar yet the familiarity of a dutiful servant of the Emperor, reigning in the anger that was profusely leaking out from his mood. "We have all heard that sound before, and your minds play tricks on you yet again, asking for you to betray your own thoughts. But that is the rule of the warp! It is always a danger as we travel through it, and this time is no different. Time and time again we have gone through it, and time and time again we have made it in one piece, if slightly scrambled. This time will be no different, I promise you that much!"
The menials around the deck seemed to calm down more from his commanding presence and meaningful reassurance, either nodding or staring blankly, before returning to their work of maintaining the bridge. Faust nodded at his own words, sitting down and once again becoming bored.
There goes that excuse. Faust thought to himself humorlessly. I've only got a few more left before I have to start getting creative.
The truth was, while they weren't in immediate danger, there was simply too much uncertainty. The groans of the ship were a common thing he and his father had gotten used to, but that didn't mean they weren't fear-inducing to the less brave. And the morale of the ship crew dictated whether a slight inconvenience would cause a major mutiny to occur, or whether they could weather out the worst of warp travel.
All things considered, it could be worse. They could instead crash onto a planet and become stranded, but so long as the enginseers did their job, all would be fine. Faust's eye twitched in mild irritation, before hatred seeped back into his brain at the reminder of sabotage. He sat back down, anger radiating off him with heat to rival that of the Halo stars.
Faust's mind slightly cooled down at the familiar stomping of a friend, trudging across the deck towards him at a leisurely pace.
"Sah, 'porting for duty, sah!" Brogg shouted deeply, his voice amplified by the vox system in his plasteel mask.
Faust turned his head, glancing at the ogryn with a nod and waving dismissively, "At ease Brogg, at ease…"
Brogg was currently wearing a red tank top and some black pants, something he had decisively asked for rather than the finest of garments Faust could afford. Something about being comfortable—to which Faust understood completely in his stiff maroon suit. His black boots—about the size of Faust's leg up to the knee—were impeccably clean; polished to the point imperfection was an annihilated thought. The ogryn's curious purple eyes stared back under a finely trimmed mohawk of red hair. He stood taller than even the Emperor's angels and was as muscular as an Ork warboss. Anything around his mouth was covered by the mask he had on, as Brogg did not have… the best of social appearances in that regard. Personally, Faust didn't mind as it added to the intimidation factor of his bodyguard, especially considering the actual personality underneath.
Brogg immediately relaxed upon the dismissive tone from Faust, sauntering over to stand by his throne's side. That is, until he grumbled. "Ah grut it, I forgot what I was 'bout to say. Wait… nah I don't 'emember."
"Was it about me, hehe," a shrill and annoying voice cut out from Faust's left, causing the Rogue Trader to jump and Brogg to shake his head, before his eyes went wide and bore a smile underneath the mask, shaking his head vigorously up and down. Faust, meanwhile, had his anger simmer down rather than rage hotter at the "guest" now by his left side. That wasn't to say he wasn't annoyed, no, that would be a lie so laughably bad that the xenos would have crouched over, giggling hysterically.
The first thing to greet Faust was a mask; a shiny aquamarine stream of tears rode down the cheeks from the eyes, while the lips were jutted into a toothy grin. Half of the mask from the nose up was pitch black, while the bottom was white as bone. The man—if Faust could even call the wretch that—wore the most eccentric outfit the Rogue Trader had ever laid his eyes on, and Faust knew all about what eccentric was, could be, and has been. His outfit was a vomit of multiple colors, with blue and red being the most prominent ones, with a left leg striped in that arrangement, with the right arm instead in a checkerboard pattern. The only semblance of peace was a black heart symbol, etched into a golden shoulder plate. The purple ponytail of the idiotic clown flowed freely while he leaned inward towards Faust.
"You…" Faust groaned.
"Me!" Iukari Desh, the wretched stowaway, proclaimed with a raised hand in the air.
"Sorry Sah, jesta wanted to speak to ya. Thought I shoulda let ya know."
Faust composed himself, sighing deeply, and gently pushing away Iukari by the forehead, to which the Aeldari didn't resist one bit, snorting.
"What do you want? Can't you see I'm…" Faust looked around for a moment, before leaning into his throne with a bored frown, "Busy. Incredibly busy."
"Aww, how cruel of you Sire!" Iukari leaned impossibly backwards in mock offense, a hand to where his heart was. "I was only wanting but the briefest itty bitty moments of your oh so busy life." Iukari kneeled his head all the way down, his hands crawling over Faust's boots in the worst effort to make him uncomfortable. "Oh please, oh please, please, please, let me have but a miniscule fraction of your life!"
"Gah!" Faust lifted his leg away in disgust, "Will you quit that!"
The harlequin laughed as he bounced towards his feet, while Brogg grumbled in annoyance at Faust being harassed—though not doing anything just yet. "I will take that as a yes! Allow me to perform the tale of the Forlorn Traveler…"
"Don't."
"I insist!" Iukari giggled, before motioning over towards the windows of the bridge, pointing towards the warp. "It was so impeccably long ago to you, my great and oh so grand human friend, and blah blah blah…"
Faust drowned out the noise of Iukari pouring his heart and soul into recalling whatever story he was spinning, letting his mind wander. They were interesting, to a degree, but today was not the day for Faust to tolerate the clown's existence. A groan sounded out from the ship once more, this time louder, to which Faust almost ignored. Almost.
The sound had halted Iukari from his telling of the Forgotten Trader or whatever it was called, which was incredibly alarming. Iukari was a wretched curse to the point he would not leave his ship no matter how much was thrown his way. From volleys of lasfire to even Faust negotiating to be left alone, but nothing was able to stop the clown from dodging them into a forgotten cranny of the Clad in Ire, escaping to annoy Faust another day. And every time, he would be laughing all the way, still shouting myths for anyone to hear. But nothing had ever silenced him.
Iukari glanced towards the special warp-viewing windows after a pause, giggling slightly, "Oh my, that was a loud one, wasn't it?"
Faust peered deeply into the mask, trying to find any sense of normality in the chaotic personality, but still found none. He continued searching until another ominous creak resonated across the bridge, this time deafeningly loud.
If the small movements in Iukari's mask was anything to consider, he was furtively glancing around. He was sensing something they couldn't beyond their enclosed space. To which, Faust now had a moment of dread snatch its grimy and spindly fingers into his very being. Faust stood up with a nervous expression, Brogg eyeing him with a look that meant the same fragging thing.
The jester then began to maniacally laugh, causing all members on the bridge to look at him as he made a scene Faust would never forget.
"HAHAHA, we're not returning! Wonderful, excellent, and how expectantly unexpected! This is the worst situation I have ever been thrust into! I think I'm going to faint after I laugh my heart out! What a wonderful prank, the best of the best and I expect no less!"
Iukari resumed his insane gibbering as he practically screamed in delight and raucous laughter curled into a ball on the floor, being the only sound in the room for a single minute before the bridge turned red. Alarms blared at ear-piercing volumes, breaking the weirdness of the situation and directing it towards seriousness. Everyone scrambled to their positions as yet another quake shook the ship, some menials clinging onto whatever support they could to not fall over. Faust gripped the railing, gritting his teeth as the responsibility of his services in the Imperial Navy reigned supreme over his mind. This didn't feel like they entered a particularly rough patch of the warp.
Another quake caused him to finally bark out orders, "I want info NOW!"
A menial faced Faust with terror, the sunken eyes of Frin bored into Faust's green ones, "Captain, our voidship is being dragged into a warp current! The twin navigators are having a hard time correcting the course!"
Another menial by the name of Aurelia, younger than most, gasped, "The enginseers are reporting something's wrong with the plasma drives! They're doing all they can, but it's unresponsive to any other command!"
"We just lost all communications to the warp-drive! Their vox system isn't responding or receiving at all!" Said Mira, an older menial clad in a few medals for her service.
"Navigator Rulk is reporting that the rampart is still holding strong but is being significantly tested!" Responded Frin again, frantically shouting and soon ordering the menials under him to take more control.
The Clad in Ire shook violently, knocking a few to the floor, as the bridge descended into a cacophony of reports and technical jargon. Faust could only stare silently at the windows separating the crew from the warp in muted anger, its colors shifting beautifully in horrifying capacities as swirls of energy spiraled in the distance.
It was too noisy—far too noisy. The panicked shouting. The reports of orders flying in and out. The damn xenos laughing and laughing. The voidship was likely in a terrible spot after the sabotages, and now it was bleeding in the warp, likely with the warp entities circling around it in a feeding-frenzy. Was this really it for the Clad in Ire? Was this how Faust van Decimbrus met his end? By the fragging hands of House Vinrexus no less, the bastards!
A tap on his shoulder shook him out of his enraged stupor, as Faust turned to look at Brogg.
"Don't think! Do!" Brogg shouted in a pleading tone, knowing exactly what Faust, his friend, was going through. It was all the Rogue Trader needed to be reminded of his role on the ship. Chaos brewed on the bridge, and it was his duty to make sure the crew, the ship, and the cargo would make it out fine. How dare he lose his sense of wits while everyone had no authority to cling onto while he panicked. For Throne's sake, he's gone through worse than this on inhospitable planets, dangerous ruins, and just generally traveling the warp. This was bad, but nothing to lose his mind over.
"QUIET!" Faust boomed, his voice filled with righteous fury and determined resolution. Everyone on the bridge had stopped speaking except for Iukari who was still laughing his heart out, gasping for air.
"Brogg, get that idiot off my bridge!" Faust pointed with a shout, emitting venom so vile that it actually calmed himself. Brogg wordlessly nodded, lugging Iukari out of the area as he simply hoisted him onto his shoulder.
Faust didn't even wait for the clown to be off his deck as he commanded his men, "Frin, tell the Navigators to do what they can. I don't care whether we're going to be dropped into the middle of a war zone or empty space, we just need to be out of here without having our ship split in twain. Aurelia, I want constant updates on the plasma drives and the enginseers! Last thing we need is losing communication with them too. Speaking of, Mira, get your menials onto reestablishing our vox system with them on the double! You," Faust pointed to a menial not doing particularly anything, "Wundertolg, get me something to drink, I can't do this sober! The rest of you lot, make sure all systems are working, tell the lower decks to be ready to experience some rough bits, and by the God-Emperor's light pray for his guidance as you work!"
Brogg returned as the bridge crew had begun feverishly praying to the God-Emperor's majesty or diligently working in silence as they reported only what they needed to. Faust took the bottle of amasec from Wundertolg, thanking the menial as he popped the cork and immediately drank from it. He looked at the clear glass, seeing his reflection of dark green eyes and a cleanly shaved beard on his smooth, naturally good looking face. Unfortunately, stress was the only expression that bore through.
For now, all they could do was pray to the Holy Emperor's light and do what they could to make sure the ship of sixty thousand crew members wouldn't be thrown into disarray.
Another quake rumbled, yet Faust stood tall, not even bending to the force as he defiantly stood against the warp itself. No one messed with his ship, not even the nature of hell.