The soldiers that lined the road as we came up on the gate, were all dressed in heavy half plates, mail skirts over their pants, and thick leather greaves that doubled as waterproof leggings. All of them carried long swords that looked well-maintained and well-used which made me wonder. What could they be using those blades on, besides the civilian population? There had been no reports of rebellion or heretical uprisings from Slud, so unless they were attacking people at random, there was little reason for their blades to carry that special shine a weapon only gets when it sees frequent use.

They had arranged themselves into two neat rows flanking the road as we came walking up to the city, and even though I was wearing plain robes to hide the carapace armor beneath, It was obvious to all that it was me, not the governor, that was in charge at the current time. The fat little man was heaving for breath and looking desperately around for something to lean against, but there was nothing to be found except fields, gates, peasants, and soldiers. The contrast between us could not be greater. While I had spent quite a lot of time in my quarters, most of it studying, I had not neglected the occasional practice session with my handcannon and my combat knife. But a knife would never be good enough in this universe, which brought me to the present.

As we crossed the threshold into the city, the wall of stench that hit me felt like a physical attack. Piss, shit, rotting dung heaps, dead animals and rodents, inns, industrial work, and a thousand other vile smells assaulted my nose and almost forced me to gag in response, but I managed to keep it together, even if it took a huge mental strain. The governor, on the other hand, did not fare as well. He hit the wall, made it 3 steps, and immediately emptied the contents of his stomach on the ground in front of him. With an audible whimper, he recollected himself and used a small silk handkerchief to wipe the vomit from his mouth.

"I agree, governor, the stench is unbearable. Might I suggest splitting the city up, and creating dedicated zones for industry, housing, agriculture, and so on? I would solve some of the most immediate problems of cities such as this" I remarked and while I received no answer, I could sense the growing frustration in the flabby little dictator. Not that I blamed him, I would feel the same way if someone showed up on my ship and started insulting it right away. But I wanted him angry. Angry men make mistakes, and as a wise old Chinese philosopher once said, never interrupt your enemy when they are making a mistake. He might even order an attack on me and my men if I antagonized him enough, but that would also be a risk. If I used the Laspistols we had smuggled with us, inside the city, I would have to order the city cleansed of life. I had another idea and turned to my honor guard, pointing out 12 of them.

"You 12, wait outside the city gate, and if I have not returned within the hour, consider it an attack on my person and flee to inform the ship," I said to the one closest to me, and I once more noticed a visible rise in the anger and frustration of the man huffing for breath while trying to minimize his air intake to avoid the smell. But also a level of worry if his body language was to be believed. Then again, fat and useless as he was, one did not become a planetary governor without some skill in politics and intrigue. I would have to keep my senses open at all times, just in case I was being played for a fool. The 12 troopers immediately presented the Aquila and hurried back to where we came from.

As the rest of us proceeded into the city, the noise rose to levels of uncomfortability that rivaled the smell. Barking animals, noisy children, yelling shopkeepers, the hammering and sawing of the various industries, fistfights, religious processions, guards yelling orders, Inn's with their already drunken patrons, beggars, thieves, and a thousand other sounds mixed to create a wall of sound you simply moved through, making it impossible to hear anything beyond what happened in your immediate vicinity.

"TROKK!" I shouted and the giant man focused in on my voice. "Stay next to me while we are in the city." And he moved closer, almost brushing against me as we continued forward. I wasn't worried about my security so much as I feared that the many sounds and noises would overstimulate Trokk. I wanted him within reach, in case it all got too much for him. If he lost his mind the way he lost it back on the ship... I shuddered at the thought, I doubted there was a soldier on this planet capable of putting down the Ogryn without the use of Imperial technology, which made for scary thinking. A freak of an Ogryn, rampaging through the largest city on a feudal world. Shit, that might be bad enough for the Inquisition to revoke my Letter of Marque. "Trokk, it is very important you stay close to me until we get back to the ship. If you don't the Emperor will be very angry with you. And I do not want the Emperor to be angry with Trokk, because I like Trokk." I had to dumb it down a bit, even with his cranial augmentations, well hidden beneath his hood, but the giant abhuman moved close, so close that I could smell gunpowder residue still clinging to him from the firing drills this morning. That, and his questionable hygiene.

We continued our trek through the city until we happened upon a collection of large stone buildings, unlike the wooden houses that dominated the streets. Armored soldiers were drilling in a square outside, messengers came running to and from the largest building, and the nearby stables were a flurry of activity. We had arrived at the guard quarters of the city.

The man at the guard post was in the middle of a lazy yawn when he spotted us and the sight of the planetary governor made him try to stop yawning and call attention to the incoming visitors but only managed to get himself caught in a coughing fit. It did draw the attention of nearby soldiers who cried out in alarm and immediately snapped to parade rest, presenting the aquila to us as we approached. As we entered the drill square between the buildings, an elderly man in a magnificent steel armor with gold ornamentation and silver inlay weaving intricate patterns, left the large building that saw a steady stream of messengers, followed closely by fully plated knights, covered from head to toe in thick steel plating and sporting large claymore swords, held high and ready to strike any who might threaten their commander.

We stopped 2 meters apart and silence gripped the square as the commander eyed me and my men, but especially Trokk. Not that I blamed him, my Ogryn bodyguard was indeed an impressive sight, even with his simple clothes and twisted metal piping. The governor, on the other hand, made for a sad sight. red-faced and heaving for breath with beads of sweat running rivers down his many chins, he was leaning on 2 of his men that seemed ready to collapse under the strain and I moved my attention to the commander to see his reaction. He was good, very good, as his face betrayed no emotion at all, but I saw the hint of disdain in his eyes. No wonder, he was the spitting image one would think of when thinking of a medieval military commander. Around 50 years old, small scars crisscrossing the small parts of him not covered in the ornate armor, one eye completely white, and a permanent look of angry displeasure etched on his face.

"Greetings, commander," I said and he snapped his full attention to me, surprised that I spoke before the governor, but more or less unfazed.

"Greetings, stranger. To what do we owe the pleasure of our lord and his guests, blessing us with their valuable time?" His words were impeccably chosen as the perfect greeting, but his tone and demeanor told the story of a man that considered this visit a massive nuisance and inconvenience, at best.

"The Emperor needs your finest swordsman, and I am here to collect him. Old, young, noble, common, it matters not. What matters, is the skill of the individual you wish to stand before me." I did my best to sound authoritative and in charge, but the commander still glanced at the governor who simply nodded. Snapping his fingers, he summoned a messenger who immediately ran off after being tasked to find the swordsman in question.

"While we are at it, I, as the Emperor's agent, need a great number of blades. Are there blacksmiths in the city with a significant supply in stock?" I asked, making sure to let the commander know I did not expect him to solve this issue for me, beyond some basic directions.

"By law, the only smiths permitted to make weapons are employed by the army. The armories should hold everything you desire if you can pay." It was obvious the old soldier took great delight in being an inconvenience. No matter, it would be solved once the new governor took the planet under command.

"I need 3000 falchions and I am willing to trade you their weight in steel of equal quality, which you will accept and be happy about. Better they are used, than rotting away in the armory of a glorified extortion gang!" I would not allow this commander, accomplished as he was, to take joy out of standing in the way of mine and, by extension, the Emperor's will. These blades would, when paired with a skilled trainer, mean a great difference for any boarding actions, both offensive and defensive.

He expectedly bristled at my words, I swear I could see his eyebrows become more bushy, and one of the guards wielding claymores stepped forward and reached out a hand, but it never touched me. Instead, there was a sound of crunching metal, followed by a sound like a twig snapping in the wind before the guard dropped screaming to his knees, staring in what I guessed to be horror, at Trokk. The Ogryn had sensed what the guard planned and reached out to stop him. In his simple mind, a broken arm could not be used to touch me. Every set of eyes native to the planet within earshot of the whole ordeal was locked on me and as the commander gained a grip on himself, I just had to rub salt in the wound. "The Emperor protects," I said with a smirk.

"Indeed he does." he managed, but was stopped from saying anything else by the sound of someone vomiting violently. The governor was apparently not used to the idea of casual violence. Truth be told, less than 9 months ago, I was much the same way. I was lucky enough to be introduced to casual killing by ork attacks. Something not human. One of his aides rushed to his side with a container of water to wash the vomit out of his mouth with, and he drank greedily while admonishing the poor soul for not supplying him with water earlier, during our walk.

"I shall have one of my men escort you to the armories and requisition carts for you to transport the weapons." The commander stated in a mix between a growl and a hiss, both to answer my question in a manner that would be satisfactory, but also to draw attention away from the governor and his childish tantrum.

"Excellent, though I would request, for the governors' sake, that we get at least one of the carts right now," I suggested and it was met with general agreement. As a cart was procured and we started making our way to the armories, I made it a point to get out in front of the cart with the now-placated governor. This was a power move, a way to tell the local population that as powerful as their lord was, my authority extended beyond him, and as such he was beholden to me. He tried several times to engage me in conversation, no doubt in the hope of having me fall back to walk beside his cart to make it look like I was his subordinate rather than his equal, but I brushed off every attempt. There was nothing to be gained from speaking with this self-indulgent excuse for a man.

The armories were solid stone buildings, surrounded by soldiers and kept under heavy lock and key. A young man in a soldier's half-plate was engaged in combat with 3 others, and from the look of things he was toying with them. "As you requested, here is the blade master the Emperor desires." The commander remarked as he looked over the exhibition taking place in front of me. But I didn't like it. It was too convenient that he had arrived and engaged in an exhibition match mere moments before us. I pointed at 3 of my men and made a gesture with my head, which made them draw their combat knives and approach fast from behind the young man, who was busy showing off. If he was the blade master I was being told he was, he would know how to handle what was to come.

As my men were 5 steps away I shouted a warning and the young man threw a look behind him, spun around, and was immediately disarmed by the first arriving soldier and taken to the ground by the next 2, the blunt side of their knives pressed against his throat. I slowly turned away from the scene to stare down at the commander, who was now sweating a great deal more than he was mere moments ago.

"I don't think you understand the position you currently find yourself in, commander. You see, when the Emperor desires something from his subjects, it is not our place to question it, or to put hindrances in the way of it, but to see the Emperor's wish fulfilled in the fastest, most efficient manner. Should we fail due to circumstances outside of our control, that is understandable, to an extent. But when someone, anyone, actively seeks to obstruct the Emperor's will from being carried out, that is when people start turning into corpses. Corpses cannot complain about being replaced. Have I made myself clear, or do you need the encouraging attention of my dear Trokk, to help you understand what I am trying to tell you?" I was so done with both the governor and the commander. It was obvious he was only in the position he was in because of nepotism and a greater interest in pleasing his lord, than the Imperium, and I gestured to Trokk as I spoke. The magnificent Ogryn even had the whereabouts to take a step closer to the commander at the mention of his name, and the effect was instantaneous.

The color drained from the hardened veteran's face, he took an involuntary step backward and he had to swallow hard before he could answer me. "Of course, Lord. You could not be more clear!" He managed to get over his lips before he summoned another messenger to go and get the correct soldier.

"Now, many hands make light work. My blades, commander." I said, hinting that he should get the soldiers that had stopped what they were doing to gawk at their commander being threatened, to start loading up my order. Which he did with so much bravado it was hard to believe that he was bowing and scraping before me just seconds earlier. The blade master arrived a few minutes later, a middle-aged man with a pristinely combed and kept mustache, an ornate and elongated saber at his hip, almost as long as a bastard sword. He was slender, but fit and moved with the grace of a predator on the hunt. I did not doubt that this was the man I wanted. I waved him over and he presented himself as he approached.

"Hector Indrack, at your service, Lord." He made a small bow as he presented the Aquila and waited for me to respond.

"Greetings, Hector. Rejoice, for your skills are needed. The Emperor desires a blade master to train his soldiers and you have been picked as the most likely candidate. Hurry and pack what you might need, though only the most essential. Time is of the essence." I replied and gestured for him to step closer. "And between you and me, you might want to pack as if there was a chance you might never return," I said in a lower tone of voice, only loud enough for the 2 of us to hear. He nodded once and spun around to walk back to the armories. I called after him to meet my men at the city gate when he was done. With that done, I walked over to one of the carts being loaded with weapons and inspected one of the. A nice broad handguard, good quality steel, properly maintained and kept. While they were nothing exceptional, they were still good work and they would do the job well enough.

It took close to an hour for the work to finish, but that hasn't stopped the governor from summoning food and drink no less than 3 times while we waited. The amount of food the fat bastard was shoveling into his pasty face was nauseating and to avoid having to look at it, I inspected every single cart when it was filled. It was during this that I discovered a blade that stood out. With a broader blade, smaller handguard, heavily inlaid with gold, and an Imperial prayer written in the metal along the blade, it was a thing of beauty and I picked it up to inspect it more closely. The handle and guard were both exquisite works of art while the edge of the blade which looked smooth from a distance, turned out to have minute curves, like a flamberge. It would make for truly devastating attacks against unarmored, or lightly armored enemies. It was a thing of beauty and I decided I needed an upgrade from the combat knife I was currently using.

"Wait, that blade shouldn't be there, it was made on my request." The governor called out, completely forgetting the food he has been busy gorging himself on, and I realized that I had just picked up the newest favored toy in his collection.

"Fitting, that it should hang on the hip of someone that would actually use it for its intended purpose, rather than hanging on the trophy wall of your collection room, wouldn't you say?" I replied and took the blade into my possession. "But I am not without reason, and a gift of this magnitude deserves something of equal value in return. Would you accompany me to my base of operations when we return, so that I may repay this extravagant gesture?" I wondered if the idiot would fall for it, and he jumped straight in, feet first.

Now smiling at the thought of being given something exotic and rare in exchange for a blade he could always have replicated, the suggestion appealed to the governor's sense of entitlement and he readily agreed. Nothing more happened until we made our way back to the grove and boarded the Arvus. Once situated and moving away from the planet, the governor noticed we were not heading for the space station, but rather my ship. "What is the meaning of this?" He demanded, and I took a seat on a crate in front of him.

"Governor, you disappoint me. You have raised prices on ore beyond what the Imperium finds acceptable. It is almost as if you think yourself untouchable like your mudball of a world is important in the grand scheme of things. You have angered forces that are beyond your comprehension, and now it's time to pay for those transgressions. I promised you a gift of equal value to the blade you have bestowed upon me, Well, governor. My gift is allowing you to live to be handed over to the Inquisition. Otherwise, I can put a shot in your head right now, and get it over with. And before you ask, this cannot be undone. The verdict has been passed, the judgment delivered, and no power in the galaxy can change this. I advise you to meet your fate with some dignity. It is all you have left at this point." I should take joy in bursting his bubble. I should be malicious and gleeful, but all I felt was weary resignation. The fact that people like this were allowed to flourish in the first place overshadowed the joy of being the one to remove him from power.

I had expected rage, crying, begging, and attempts at negotiating. Anything, but what he did. Instead of any of the expected reactions, he raised his hand and if not for my danger sense, I would have been dead right there. Instead, the las shot from the digital weapon hidden in one of his rings seared through my ear and took out the man behind me. He only managed one shot, as Trokk responded by reaching out and ripping the arm off of the man. The field chiurgeon sprang forward to attend to my wounded ear, but I brushed him off. "Save that fat bastard. He doesn't deserve to bleed out and escape the interrogation chambers. Innocentia probat nihil!" As I uttered the motto of the Inquisition, silence fell over the Arvus, except for the whimpering of the, literally, disarmed former governor. Trokk was still holding the arm and I reached out and started plucking the jewelry from the fingers. A digital weapon was a rarity, even among the obscenely wealthy and powerful, and any other human would most likely have been taken out by that little stunt, and even with all my advantages, I almost got taken out. This would be a wonderful addition to my personal armory and a great last resort when people thought you were disarmed. I just had to figure out which one of the gaudy rings it was, but my enginseer could help me with this.

But I was faced with a choice. Did I inform the people on the governor's space station before, or after, I had returned him to Naval base Bakka??