Chapter 338: The Assignment
With the daemon situation handled, Kian made his way to the bridge. The Inquisitor's full inner circle was already assembled.
The core bodyguard contingent was present, along with three newcomers to Kian: a gaunt, pallid man with a bandanna covering his forehead, exuding quiet menace; a Magos of the Mechanicus; and a Navy captain.
When Kian arrived, the Inquisitor gestured toward the seat beside him. "There you are. Please, sit. We were just about to discuss our exit from the Warp."
Kian took his seat. "Have we reached the target?"
The gaunt man with the covered forehead spoke:
"I have seen the way. Tomorrow morning is the optimal window for translation back to realspace. We will emerge in the immediate vicinity of the target world."
The Inquisitor made the introduction. "This is our fleet's Navigator, Lord Nobdal. He hails from the Coraesa Nova Dynasty — an ancient and distinguished lineage.
His gaze never wavers from our heading. Under his guidance, our fleet has never once gone off course. He is the eyes of this flotilla."
Kian studied the pale-faced man with renewed interest. A Navigator.
Navigators were a unique strain of sanctioned mutant. They possessed a third eye concealed beneath their brow — a psychic organ designed specifically to perceive the Warp.
Through specialised techniques, they could guide vessels into and out of the Immaterium. Virtually every ship equipped with a Gellar Field required one.
Because of their indispensable nature, Navigator bloodlines had consolidated into powerful ancient dynasties within the Imperium. These houses contracted their members out to military institutions, noble houses, and merchant fleets in exchange for wealth and influence.
Navigators differed fundamentally from ordinary psykers. A standard psyker could perform Warp navigation, but it was like blundering through a pitch-black forest with a high-beam spotlight — the noise attracted every daemon in the vicinity.
A Navigator, by contrast, didn't carry a spotlight. They wore low-light optics, slipping through the darkness quietly, guiding the fleet out of the Warp with minimal chance of drawing unwanted attention.
Kian filed the man away for future reference. He'd need to find time to talk with this Navigator. When the day came that he owned his own warship, he'd need to know where to source a Navigator — or failing that, learn the basics of Warp navigation himself.
Once Kian was settled, the Inquisitor continued:
"Everyone, tomorrow we arrive at Planet 495. It's a mixed-development world — both agriculture and industry. Their industrial capacity is sufficient to manufacture Chimera transports, and the planet maintains a small number of warships.
Our purpose here is military mobilisation. We will require the Planetary Governor to assemble elite forces and follow us to Forge World Primo-496a to join the campaign against the Ork offensive."
That was the mission. Trasolh was here to raise troops.
Forge World Primo-496a was the most important industrial world in the sub-sector — one of the few planets capable of manufacturing warships.
If it fell, the loss to the entire sector would be catastrophic.
So even though combating xenos threats technically fell outside the Ordo Hereticus's jurisdiction, Inquisitor Trasolh was doing everything in his power to prevent that outcome.
He'd been flying a circuit around the forge world, visiting every neighbouring system to borrow soldiers and ships.
Agri-World Secundus-496b had been a stop along the way — he'd collected the overdue tithes while passing through.
From there, he'd taken massive quantities of supplies and over half a million Guardsmen, distributed across his fleet's transport ships.
But half a million Guard thrown into an Ork warzone wouldn't even make a ripple. He needed more — better equipment, more bodies. That was why he'd come to Planet 495.
Kian's initial thought was that this sounded straightforward enough. An Inquisitor had the legal authority to mobilise local military forces. All Trasolh had to do was land, flash the Rosette, and the Governor would hand over troops and ships without question.
But something was clearly bothering the Inquisitor. His expression darkened.
"Five years ago, I came to this world and issued a mobilisation order. I took one million Guardsmen and a warship. The local Governor's own children and those of the nobility enlisted with them.
That million-strong force held out on Forge World Primo-496a for three months before being wiped out to the last man."
He fell silent. Kian turned it over in his head and understood.
Five years ago, Trasolh had conscripted from this world. The nobles' sons and daughters had marched off to fight Orks on the forge world. Three months later, they were all dead.
Now he was back to conscript again. If anyone asked how the war on Primo-496a was going — if they asked whether their children were still alive — what was he supposed to say?
Kian sucked his teeth. That was a genuinely ugly problem. And in the very next second, it landed squarely in his lap.
Inquisitor Trasolh looked directly at Kian.
"Count Voss. How would you feel about handling the conscription?"
Kian blinked.
"Me?"
Trasolh nodded, completely serious.
"Yes. You.
My people and I have all shown our faces on Planet 495 before. The local nobility knows us.
But you've only recently joined my retinue. No one on that world has ever seen you. You'll have a much easier time engaging with the local nobles."
In other words: Kian hadn't been there five years ago. Even if the local aristocrats found out their children were dead, they couldn't blame the messenger — he'd had nothing to do with it.
Trasolh and his old guard, on the other hand, couldn't exactly face the bereaved parents. So they'd stay aboard the ship and let Kian handle the ground work.
Once Kian finished the job, they'd load up the supplies and troops and leave.
Kian didn't particularly mind. The assignment sounded simple enough, and he was genuinely curious to see how an Inquisitor's operations worked in practice.
If he was going to become a Rogue Trader someday, he'd better understand how the regulators did their jobs.
"Fine. I'll handle it. One trip to the surface."
He accepted without argument. Inquisitor Trasolh exhaled with visible relief and glanced at Baron Pallid.
The Baron rose, reached inside his cloak, and produced a Rosette pendant, which he handed to Kian.
"Count Voss. This is a replica of my master's Rosette. Consider it recognition of your service during the voyage — the daemons you killed, the crew you protected, the losses you prevented.
With this Rosette, any planetary noble who sees you will regard you as though you were the Inquisitor himself. You may exercise the majority of the Inquisitor's authority.
Additionally, this Rosette carries extensive access clearance. It will allow you to query nearly all Imperial Cogitator arrays, giving you full intelligence-gathering capability."
Kian took the Rosette and weighed it in his palm. Nice craftsmanship. Distinctive shape. He looped it around the pommel of the Demon-Cleaver, where it dangled like a decorative charm.
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