Under the guidance of the void-port control tower, the Spear of Destiny slowly entered the gravity net and, after a long decelerating glide, docked with the ancient and massive starport in orbit above Swuvi.
Because this voyage had been short and quick, the Spear of Destiny suffered no major damage beyond three meteor impacts to the outer hull and some minor faults in the internal temperature-control and pressure systems.
"Alright, boys. Off the ship."
Solomon called over his senior deckhands, intending to bring them all down to Swuvi with him.
There was strength in numbers. More manpower would make it easier to find Tylvius's mentor, and it would also make carrying the cargo crate containing Dushi much more convenient.
The plan was a good one.
But just as he was about to lead his men toward the orbital elevator, a starport guide wearing an old-fashioned uniform stepped in front of him.
The man said nothing. His high cheekbones framed a pair of narrow, mean eyes, and though he was short, he somehow still managed to look down on Solomon from above. He simply extended his right hand toward him.
Solomon knew exactly what he was there for.
The so-called security assurance fee.
Cursing inwardly, Solomon put on a flattering smile and handed over a bag full of throne gelt, though beneath that smiling face there was a deep, simmering fury.
These kinds of vermin were the people he hated most.
They used their positions to bite into others and suck them dry, and they never forgot a grudge.
Once you offended this kind of petty rat, they would do everything in their power to make life difficult for you, while you could do absolutely nothing back to them.
There was no shortage of these parasites among the stars, these people who used status and office to strip others to the bone, and they were usually fearless because behind them stood the Byzantine bureaucracy of the Imperium of Man.
The arrogant guide weighed the bag in his hand, then glanced at Solomon and gave his order in a tone that allowed no argument.
"This only guarantees the safety of three people. Pick two others."
Solomon nearly coughed up blood on the spot.
What kind of security fee was charged by headcount?
"Uh... when the tower contacted us over vox earlier, they didn't say anything about that..."
Solomon forced himself to speak through his anger.
"I'm telling you now."
The guide answered impatiently, but then his tone shifted and became a little softer.
"Of course, if you pay a bit more all at once, I may be willing to make an exception and allow all of your people to disembark."
The meaning could not have been clearer.
I am the starport guide.
You pay me.
Watching the guide's shameless greed, Gaia felt annoyed, but at the same time she finally understood what Tylvius had meant when he said that Swuvi was "a bit xenophobic."
Swuvi was a self-sufficient world that maintained official trade only with a very small number of strategically allied planets.
Under those conditions, there would naturally be very few merchant ships willing to come to a world where the market was anything but free.
So when an outsider like Solomon showed up, someone who obviously looked like he was here to do a one-time trade, the starport officials, who rarely got a chance to skim anything, naturally wanted to fleece him as hard as possible in a single go.
And under a system like this, fewer and fewer outsiders would be willing to come to Swuvi, creating a vicious cycle.
Still, Gaia suspected that this absurd setup was probably intentional on the part of the ruling family.
Any arriving outsider ship inevitably brought ideas that were different from the local norm.
And on a knight world like this, a giant medieval steampunk planet, the commoners had probably been sustainably exploited for generations under the careful management of the planetary nobility.
Once dangerous ideas began to spread, rebellion would be inevitable.
Granted, those rebels usually ended up discovering that the medieval stone castles could somehow deploy giant knight war machines, but the economic destruction caused by rebellion was still something no ruler wanted to see.
Meanwhile, faced with the man's outrageous demands, Solomon started calculating.
The reward offered by Forge Lord Tylvius was certainly generous, but going back and forth between the two worlds still cost promethium, and the Spear of Destiny would continue taking strange wear and tear from all kinds of bizarre accidents.
On top of that, searching an entire planet for one person was already a difficult task, and they would definitely spend a lot of time here.
If this vampire was allowed to bleed him dry on top of all that, Solomon would not merely fail to profit from this commission.
He would end up wasting a huge amount of time as well.
So he made a firm decision.
"Johnson. Gaia. You two are coming with me."
When Gaia saw that this man was really willing to bring only two other people just to save money, the corner of her mouth twitched.
Still, Tylvius had said before that his mentor could never live without machinery. Even if he had secluded himself on a knight world, he would most likely still maintain some one-sided contact with the Mechanicus.
And according to the map Tylvius had given them, the Mechanicus training grounds and repair center were both located on the outskirts of the central city, Hecius.
So the person they were searching for was probably somewhere in that area.
Seen that way, three people was still manageable.
Thinking it through, Gaia sighed inwardly and had the sailors strap the cargo crate onto her back.
"Wait. If you're bringing that crate, then you can only bring one more person."
Realizing that they had no intention of paying more, the guide's expression darkened as he spoke.
"And why is that?"
Solomon's smile was starting to crack, his face twisting as he asked the question.
"Who knows whether a box that large might be hiding another person. You outsiders can't be trusted."
Gaia glanced back at the crate on her back.
Well, technically he was right.
There really was someone inside.
Just not a human.
An Iron Man.
And so, before the search party had even reached the surface of Swuvi, it had already been reduced to just Gaia and Solomon.
What was supposed to be a tactical team ended up becoming a two-person trip.
Fortunately, corrupt as the starport officials were, once they had taken the so-called security fee, they actually did let the two of them board the orbital elevator without any further inspection at all.
"In a way, that's almost professional."
Gaia complained silently to herself.
...
As the two stepped onto the orbital elevator, a small matter was unfolding on Swuvi's surface:
In front of the cathedral in the central royal city of Hecius, a pyre built from sacred wood had been raised, and upon it stood an old man with wild, unkempt hair, bound fast by thorned vines.
In this age of rampant religious persecution, such things were about as common as a family barbecue on a quiet afternoon.
The only thing that made this incident even slightly unusual was the identity of the old man who was about to become well known to the local Imperial Creed.
In fact, this old man, now condemned as a heretic, had once held a certain rank within Swuvi's Ecclesiarchy.
He was the Ecclesiarchy's representative on this Imperial world.
Bishop Mel.
(End of Chapter)
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