Zerayah looked up at her uncle (well, one of them) with a curious look in her eyes. "Uncle Jurgen?"
"Yes?"
"Can you tell me anything, uhm, embarrassing about mom and dad?"
The psyker looked up from the table he was sitting at. "Why would you be asking that?"
"I wanted to prank dad, but I can't think of anything. Please help? Pretty please?"
Zerayah really had the most adorable puppy-eyes. Entirely inappropriate for what she was, but still; impossible to say "No" to.
"Well," said Jurgen, "there was that time I walked in on them-"
The table exploded, sending splinters of wood and the shattered remains of Jurgen's cup of tanna sailing through the air. Jurgen immediately hurled himself into the air, eyes ablaze with psychic might scanning through the shattered windows for his assailant.
There! Across the palace, on the floor where the Liberation Council held their meetings, he saw a smoking bolter still aimed at them, held by...
Jurgen lowered himself to the ground, adjusted his collar, and turned to Zerayah (who had upturned her chair and was hiding behind it; good girl. Her parents would be proud).
"Your father has forbidden me from telling that story."