Chapter 395: Arrival at the Forge World
That afternoon, Kian left Bruno's flagship and returned to Trasolh's.
In his office, Trasolh had laid out a generous spread of cream cookies on his desk and sat there, waiting anxiously.
Finally, the door opened, and Kian walked in.
Trasolh's heart rate spiked. He was genuinely afraid the other Inquisitor was about to poach his best man. Ever since Kian had come aboard and filled the gap in his fleet's anti-daemon coverage, things had changed. Every Warp transit used to cost him a few lives, sometimes worse, with the occasional daemon slipping through and inflicting serious damage on the ship itself. But since this ruthless bastard had joined up, any daemon that snuck past the Gellar Field got spotted and killed before it managed to hurt anyone.
Say what you will, but that skill set was practically tailor-made for the Ordo Malleus. Perfect fit for the job. Trasolh was terrified the Daemon Hunter was about to steal his prize asset out from under him.
"You're back."
Trasolh watched Kian sit down and carefully slid the plate of cream cookies toward him.
"If it's this kind of snack you're after, I've got plenty right here. No need to go to anyone else's for it. Whatever you want from now on, just tell my personal chef. He's yours to use."
Kian got straight to it.
"Inquisitor Bruno says he'll find a way to get me a warship, and he'll sort out my contract with you so I can go work for him instead."
Trasolh's pupils contracted sharply, his breathing suddenly quick.
"You... you agreed to that?"
Kian shook his head.
"Nope."
Trasolh let out a breath of relief, only for Kian to add immediately:
"Though I figure agreeing wouldn't have been the worst idea either."
Trasolh's breath caught again.
"But thinking about it more, I'll pass."
Trasolh relaxed once more.
"So, pass, or agree?"
Trasolh...
"Would you stop toying with me? What is it you actually want here?"
Trasolh decided not to play games and just asked directly.
Kian said, "That old geezer Bruno's trying to sweet-talk me. Says he'll find a way to get me a warship somehow. Didn't say what class, didn't say when, just that if I leave you and come work for him, he'll do everything in his power to get me one."
Trasolh burst out, urgent.
"He's lying to you! He doesn't have the first bit of ability to get you a warship! Ordo Malleus Inquisitors spend their whole lives chasing daemons, sometimes on Warp pursuits that drag on and on. Sometimes you go into the Warp and come back out decades later without even realizing it. The working conditions over there are terrible. No benefits, no pension, no weekends off. Whatever you do, don't let that man con you into taking some off-the-books job with him!"
Kian grabbed a handful of cream cookies off the desk and shoved them into his mouth.
"Right, of course. Truly worthy of you, Lord Trasolh, always thinking of your people. How could I ever betray you for some fly-by-night Inquisitor? Don't worry, my loyalty is as steady as the sun and moon. I'd never sneak off to the hangar, hop in a shuttle, and fly over to some other Inquisitor's flagship, never to return. Anyway, nothing else going on, I'll head back now. Get some rest, my lord. We're almost at the Forge World, and there's a nasty fight waiting for us there."
Kian scooped up the whole plate of cream cookies, turned, and walked out of the office. Trasolh's expression stayed grim the whole time.
"No, no, this won't do. I need to find a way to lock him down. Can't let him slip away. He needs to stay put in my fleet, obediently."
This little poaching scare had just bumped Kian's perceived value up another notch, driving home exactly how much Trasolh needed him and how miserable life would be without him. Keep the man, keep his heart first. Trasolh started turning over what Kian might actually want, what could be offered to really win him over.
A warship. That kind of asset belonged to the Ordo, to the Imperium itself. His fleet might look impressive, six warships plus a fleet of cargo and transport vessels, but most of those had been borrowed from other sub-sectors for this campaign. Once the mission wrapped up, they'd have to be returned to their home fleets within ten to fifty years.
In truth, Trasolh's own permanent holdings amounted to just this one flagship, two escort frigates, and three cargo haulers. Everything else was short-term conscripted assets. Even the cargo ships under his command right now were worth a fortune, and there was no way any of it could simply be handed over to a private individual. Every ship was Imperial property, Ordo property. He only held usage rights over them.
Promising Kian a warship outright wasn't something he could actually deliver on. But he suspected there was another way to win him over. He recalled a Rogue Trader family he'd once crossed paths with along a trade route, one that had run into some trouble of its own. Handled carefully, it might just be possible to secure a Rogue Trader's warrant out of that connection...
Meanwhile, Kian returned to the Sanctum and set about maintaining his weapons and gear, preparing for whatever high-intensity fighting waited at the Forge World.
Telling Trasolh about Bruno's recruitment pitch had been a pure workplace maneuver, a way to squeeze better terms out of his current boss. Regardless of how it played out, he had no intention of actually leaving Trasolh's fleet. Life here was simply too comfortable.
Trasolh was the young, considerate type of superior, the kind who never stood in Kian's way when he went off running side operations, and even helped out where he could. By this point, Kian's side hustling had already netted him an entire regiment of grad-student soldiers, a void fighter, and a pile of salvaged Knight suit wreckage. All of it just sat in the Ordo's warehouses, no complaints about the space, no charge for storage. Where else would he find a boss this generous?
More importantly, Bruno was a Daemon Hunter. There was no profit in hunting daemons the way there was in dealing with your own kind. Riding with Trasolh across the galaxy, side opportunities kept turning up naturally. Riding with Bruno through the Warp instead, where exactly would he even find side work? Daemon-forged gear was too risky to use casually, and constant Warp transits measured in years at a time, with the ever-present risk of losing the whole ship, sounded like a special kind of misery. Who'd sign up for that voluntarily?
So, sorry, Inquisitor Bruno. You've just become a bargaining chip in the game Kian's playing with Trasolh.
While all these calculations played out on every side, the fleet finally arrived at the Forge World that evening. The single most important industrial world in the sector, currently being ravaged by an Ork invasion.
The moment the reinforcement fleet approached the planet, it received a warm welcome. Every indicator light throughout the ship flipped to red, and a piercing alarm rang out through every corridor.
"Warning! Xenos fleet approaching. All combat units to battle stations. Anti-boarding teams, prepare for anti-boarding operations!"
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