There was no way around it, I couldn't ignore the system any longer. With the number of notifications that had been thrown my way, and considering I had not been in combat to get kill notifications, Something was, or had, happened that I needed to deal with. There was just so little time to myself, and whatever time was not spent leading a planet, was spent in desperate, blissful, sleep. I milled around the large cavern to find a place where I could perhaps have a shred of privacy, but none was to be found. The carts had not arrived yet, and even when they did, whatever tents we brought were to be used for storage or command tents. I was also getting irritated, having to wait, when you were the one in command, was infuriating. But I also understood that from my thoughts and commands to the effective completion of said task or idea, it would take time for the people to get things underway.

While I made my way around the cavern I noticed countless small alcoves along the walls, some of them barely openings in the cave wall, others reaching deep into the mountain. For some reason, even though the area had been deemed safe, I had a gut feeling that it would be unwise to leave the deeper alcoves unguarded. There was not a lot of room in them, but an infiltrator or assassin from the Skaven clan Eshin could easily make its way through such an opening and cause devastation within our ranks.

Unfortunately, I had nowhere near enough men at the moment to both setup guards near every crevice and opening AND take a force significant enough with me to get anything meaningful done. Then again, with only 800 troops until reinforcements arrived, there wasn't anything I could do unless we all moved out together. But it would be suicide to attempt anything unless I had a literal army behind me. And even then, it might not be enough. A quick pat down of myself made sure I still had the las pistol and stub cannon hidden beneath my robe. These bastard vermin had no idea what we could bring to the table, but Imperial decree forbade it.

No matter. If I were forced to save my own life and the lives of the guardsmen from my ship by using advanced technology, we would have to gun down any nearby native soldiers as well. My troops would understand the need and act accordingly. A regrettable action, if it ever came to it, but such was life in the Imperium.

I settled for putting out guards at every nook, crevice, and cranny we were able to find, along with the larger openings, leaving me with only 70 soldiers not on active duty or in sleep rotation. I could have chosen those 70 to be from my crew, but it might make people think I liked to play favorites, which I of course did as much as the next guy, but I saw no reason to invoke the displeasure of the hundreds, soon to grow to thousands of soldiers to whom I was nothing more than a mysterious authority figure. They had no attachment to me beyond my title, and so I was keenly aware of the fact that a blade in the dark was never far away, especially with the Skaven nearby. Those cunning backstabbers had a way of worming their way into the darkest and most depraved parts of human society.

Still, I had no real fear as long as Trokk and his Ogryns stayed nearby. Trokk had bonded to me completely, my safety was his highest purpose in life. Of course, someone could risk it but a hired assassin would be more interested in staying alive to collect pay, than risk death to ensure a kill.

Since there was nothing I could do at the moment, besides mill around and get annoyed at the things I could not do before more troops arrived, the only sensible thing left to do was to add myself to the barricades at the tunnel leading further into the mountain. there wasn't a whole lot going on there, but a few extra sets of eyes could never hurt when on watch duty. Time passed slowly as I leaned against the wall and stared into the dark tunnel ahead, the soldiers around me were painfully aware that I was there. There was no banter, no gambling, no private training sessions between the soldiers, and none of the things that soldiers usually did to pass the time. My presence was putting a dampener on the mood, but at least it made the men vigilant and observant. no one was shirking their duties, which in turn made the rest of the camp feel incredibly safe.

But no matter how dutiful my men were, I still had a bad feeling in my stomach. Something wasn't right. It felt like every move we made was being carefully studied by an unknown entity that loomed just out of view. After several hours of continuously growing unease, I decided to go get some rest in my tent. With a short bark, I called Trokk and his Pgryns to order, but before they could gather around me, an ungodly loud explosion rang out, no doubt amplified by the mountain walls, and one of the Ogryns heads exploded before a green flash struck Trokk's left arm and tore a solid chunk of flesh out of it. The wound started sizzling as the warpstone bullet had left traces amount of the solidified warp material in the open wound and the mutation it brought with it kicked into overdrive.

Before I could do anything to react, the chartist captain's arch-militant appeared out of nowhere, saber in hand, and performed what could best be described as an immediate, emergency field amputation. In other words, he cut Trokk's arm off above the elbow, preventing further spread of the mutation by robbing him of a limb. It was nothing that couldn't be fixed once we returned to more civilized Imperial space, but it effectively took him and his Ogryns out of the fight as I couldn't be bothered to micromanage Ogryns that were used to receiving orders from Trokk. So I was left to take care of my own safety once the fighting commenced, which this current sniper attack was merely a prelude to. A friendly reminder that commanders on the frontlines made for excellent targets of opportunity to an ambitious skaven.

The soldiers had been busy in the 2 seconds it had taken for Trokk to lose his arm, most of them having formed a shield wall while the rest had been diving for cover. This stark contrast in reaction highlighted a massive issue with taking troops from a feudal world and trying to train them to fight as Imperial guardsmen. Their instinct was to create a wall of steel with a shield, while a proper guardsman dove for cover at the first hint of anything remotely close to what might possibly be considered to resemble sporadic and inaccurate signs of potential enemy fire.

It didn't take long for a medicae to arrive and inject copious amounts of painkillers and sedatives into the, understandably, angry and pained Trokk. Sure, he wouldn't die, and with proper medical care, he would make a full recovery with a bionic arm to boot, but he would be out and away from my side for the duration of this campaign. So I was left woefully exposed, both to the enemy, but also to any of my soldiers who might eye a quick way for this campaign to end.

I needed contact with the enemy and soon. Also, much more of a confrontation than having jezzail teams take leisurely shots at us while we stood around. But to get that, I needed to go on the offensive. With only a handful of soldiers as well, since every hand removed from the forward camp inside the mountain, was a soldier that could not help prepare for the arrival of thousands of soldiers, summoned on my orders to help deal with the Skaven infestation that had grown, unnoticed and dangerously large under the lazy command of the previous planetary governor and, by extension, the Lords and nobles on this planet. An issue I would have to address once the fat bastards had gathered and I had started a proper cleansing of this enemy.

Once everything settled down once more, and the soldiers had forced the grumbling workers to start building crenulations on the barricades, I retreated to my tent to gather my thoughts and come up with some sort of plan or strategy beyond, go find some Skaven and kill them to show the bodies off to the doubters among the soldiers. I could of course call it a revenge hunt for the cowardly attack we just suffered. But those words would not sound believable from my mouth and most of the troops would only think of it as me being annoyed that my pet Ogryn had gotten wounded. Which, while true, was not the main reason for me wanting to force a confrontation. While most of the men would follow orders, there was doubt among their leadership. And as much power and security as my title granted me, I was still an unknown to these people. It wouldn't be difficult to have someone kill me, pin them on the murder, and be done with me. The poor sap that then killed me would then be publicly executed, much to the amusement of the local populace while the nobles would see it as a demonstration of their divine status.

I might be a lucky bastard, but I could not rely on it. I would have to take on a new persona. And for that, I needed to look inward. There was a large mirror in my tent, and I placed myself in front of it to look myself over.

The blue eyes that stared back at me were my own, and yet not. The color was a different blue, and the shape of the eyes was more squinting, I guessed from whoever I took this body from, growing up on an ice world. I was tall, taller than most, built like a Greek god from back home. Even with the robe on, there were still scars visible on what little skin was still exposed. Countless small scars created a labyrinth on every part of my body I could get a good look at. Several larger and much more serious-looking scars showed previous grievous injuries, some of which I had received after taking over this body. My hair was slowly getting so long that I would have to consider getting it trimmed soon or risk looking like a vagrant. I didn't much mind the shade of brown, the warm chestnut color sat well with me, even if it was getting specs of grey hair. The stubble of my beard was looking a bit rough, but if I left it, I could probably grow a pretty decent beard. When I thought about it, I had to wonder why I had no beard to begin with, considering that I was originally from a world so cold that it bordered on the definition of death world.

I concluded that I needed a change of clothes. I needed something more authoritative. More militant, since that was the trader's role the action on this planet would cause me to be labeled as. Not the worst title among traders, but certainly not the best either. It was a title reserved for the bloodthirsty conquerors who operated under the name of rogue traders. but I didn't have the most extensive wardrobe, though there were still options available to me. After some thought, I decided on a pair of dark blue pants with a few good pockets in them, much like the cargo pants from back home. A leather cuirass to wear under an open greatcoat, preferably in black or dark grey. The greatcoat itself should be a vibrant color in a darker shade. Purple or red if possible, but I would also settle for one in dark royal blue. I would be expected to carry lots of gold and braids to signify my status as the Lord and ruler over my ship, future fleet, and possible Imperial holdings.

But that was one thing I had always detested, showing status through wealth. I would much rather look rugged and worn, in compliance with the old saying "A knight in shining armor, has never had his armor truly tested", especially if I was going for the trader militant role. Sure, I would face many more direct threats by gaining that reputation, but it would also make most of my enemies, both current and future, approach me directly in a simple contest of brute strength, and those that would come from the shadows, I could get specialists to deal with. I had already instructed my ship's purser to allocate more funds and resources to my master of whispers, as well as ensuring that all the people under my command were paid fully and properly, on time. My orders had been met with excuses and attempts to weasel around it, but I had stood firm. After all, there was not much anyone could do to oppose my will if I desired things to be a certain way.

I was slowly getting a reputation among my troops for being a rather lenient Lord when it came to how they performed their duties, as long as everything was performed well and on time. Adding a reputation of also being honest with the pay would go a truly long way to ensure I would not lack troops in the future. Sure, they would always be against the idea of forceful drafting, but once my seasoned people got to talking to them, they would almost certainly calm down at the prospect of a generally easy life, compared to the many other places they could end up.

But back to my new look, I got the thought to have my old issue of The Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer sealed and attached to the leather cuirss, as a memento, and a reminder to everyone under my command that you could potentially achieve anything. I would not go for a hat, as my carapace armor also had a helmet, which I much preferred. In the stories from back home, people would often leave their headgear in favor of being recognizable. No bloody way was I doing that, I valued my face too much to ignore the obvious advantages of a helmet. I started writing down what I wanted and summoned a runner to deliver my orders back outside the mountain. Once I was done in here, the new uniform would be ready and I could finally start looking my part.

As soon as the runner had left, I sighed deeply. I had put this off for far too long. I opened my status screen and immediately, I was overtaken by notifications.

Achievements:

Fantasy running wild: Congratulations. You managed to find a race that doesn't belong in this universe, however you managed such a feat. +2 Luck. (Ha!)

Incoming!: Survive having caught the full attention of an undiscovered Jezzail sniper team. Agility +1

Unbothered: You have either reached a point where attempts on your life are so common that you don't care, or you are too stupid to realize the danger you are constantly subjected to. +3 Will

Innovator: Despite Imperial orders, you have found a way to improve the lives and security of an entire world through your inventions. +1 Strength, +3 Perception.

Trader Militant: You have taken steps that will set your reputation on the path of the Trader militant. Massive battles, planets forced into the Imperium through military might, death, and destruction will follow in your wake. Will you be a force for the Imperium or simply a killer consumed by bloodlust? +3 Strength, +2 Will.

Leading from the front: Despite the common belief that leaders of the Imperium hang back and watch their soldiers die for their glory, you lead from the front right next to the soldiers you send to die. This controversy demands both respect and envy from your peers, and adoration from the common soldier, as well as lending considerable contributions to your physique. +2 Strength, +2 Agility, +2 Perception, Feat "Frontline Savant" unlocked.

Know your place: Use your power and status to requisition Imperial forces against their will, for purposes unknown. +2 Will.

Found in the shadows: You managed to track down and expose an enemy that thrives on living a hidden existence. XP rewarded.

Well, I was not about to complain about that. There were also countless notifications about the things that were being moved from the station above to my storage on the ship. For some reason, the system had decided to send me notifications about every single item placed in my possession. endless lists of luxury items, from perfumes and real candles to exotic gems and rare fabrics. I moved on to look at my status screen as a whole.

HUMAN. LEVEL 7.

STAT POINTS REMAINING: 5

ALIGNMENT: FAITHFUL IMPERIAL++

LITANIES: 62

AUGMENTATIONS: Cybernetic lung(upgrade lvl1, Toxins/environment)

LEVEL:5618/385400

STRENGTH: 17

AGILITY: 13

PERCEPTION: 17

WILL: 24

LUCK: 33

PSYCHE: 55/500

SKILLS

FEATS

ABILITIES

RETINUE

That was weird, why did my psyche increase so much?? Sure, I had been the victim of a psychic blast from the bloody Skaven runic writing on board the station, and I had been near warpstone and mutation when they shot Trokk, but beyond that, there was nothing, except perhaps the presence of warpdust in the air. But I liked what I saw in my status screen, even if Agility was getting a low, compared to the rest of my stats. I threw the 5 points I had gained into the agility pool without hesitation. The Skaven were known to be extremely fast and agile, and closing the gap was paramount to my survival. With 18 agility, I would stand a better chance at getting out of this alive.

There was also a new feat that I wanted to see, so I opened the correct screen with utmost haste.

Feats:

ENDURANCE: TIER 3, LEVEL 1 (NOTE: PLANETARY BONUS APPLIED)

DANGER INSTINCT: LIVING IN A WORLD WHERE DANGER IS RELATIVE AND DEATH WAITS AROUND THE CORNER OF EVERY NEW DAY HAVE GRANTED YOU THE ABILITY TO SENSE MALICIOUS INTENT TOWARDS YOU.

NATURAL BLUFFING: SINCE YOUR ARRIVAL, YOU HAVE SPENT A CONSIDERABLE AMOUNT OF TIME DURING CONVERSATION LYING AND TWISTING THE TRUTH. YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED THE NATURAL BLUFFING FEAT.

FRONTLINE SAVANT: CONTINUOUSLY SEEKING OUT BATTLE ON THE FRONTLINES, EVEN AFTER REACHING A LEVEL OF POWER THAT LETS YOU AVOID IT IF DESIRED, HAS GRANTED YOU UNPRECEDENTED AWARENESS AND ATTENTION TO CHANGE ON THE BATTLEFIELD. EVEN IN THE THICKEST OF COMBAT, YOU WILL NEVER BE IN DOUBT ABOUT HOW THE SITUATION ON THE REST OF THE BATTLEFIELD LOOKS, AS WELL AS GRANTS YOU A CALM DEMEANOR EVEN IN THE MOST SUICIDAL OF ASSAULTS.

A new tier in the endurance feat?? And, *click*

Endurance: Tier 3, level 1.

Tier 1: Environmental hazards affect you to a lesser degree than your peers. Passive bonus to environmental resistance.

Tier 2: Minor resistance to irritants, toxins, and poisons. Minor passive resistance to harmful environmental effects.

Tier 3: Minor resistance to diseases, chaos corruption, and corrosive substances.

Tier ?: Keep leveling up to unlock the next tier.

Finally, fucking FINALLY, I get something more useful than environmental or irritant resistance. Does it take 3 tiers or more before things become truly useful? oh well, I wasn't about to complain too much. Chaos corruption resistance?? That was a prize in and of itself, that I was willing to throw enormous amounts of my soldiers at to achieve...

I paused in my doings, stunned by my thoughts. Throwing soldiers at a problem until it was solved?? When had I become so careless with human life? I mean, I understood that, in this universe, compassion could and would get you killed, but for me to have changed so much. It was a somewhat disconcerting thought, especially when I thought back to my beginning back on Karrik, and the frustration I felt with the indifference of the common citizen of the Imperium. I would have to return to this train of thought. Introspection was sorely needed.

I was interrupted by a knocking on the tent post, and I had to return to the present. "What?" I called out, and a muffled voice answered through the tent fabric.

"Lord, the first regiment is arriving. 800 troops will be here within the hour."

The smile that crept onto my face was one of relief and maybe just a little joy. "Excellent! Inform the commanders, take 500 men that are well rested and eager, and have them meet me at the tunnel leading further into the mountain within 2 hours." I heard footsteps walking away after my order had been issued, and I had to put my wardrobe plans on hold for a while. I needed to finish up with my status screens and get moving. It left me with precious little time to change my wardrobe from that damnable robe, but at this point, I didn't care. I was about to take 500 men and walk into a mountain infested by Skaven to the point where they had run out of space and were preparing to wage full-scale war to expand. The planet was not ready for such a wave of destruction and death to roll over it, the local lords and rulers would be steamrolled before they could mount even a laughable defense.

I took off the robe and was left in my carapace armor and old uniform, but I felt more like myself. There would be stares and perhaps a few questions from the local leaders, but then again, the Inquisitorial markings on the armor might just be enough to warrant the tried and true "Don't ask questions you do not want answered" mentality that kept people alive in the Imperium. It felt good to drop the robe, the monk looks just didn't fit me, but I had to do a bit of rearranging of my gear to hide my backup las pistol, and with a little creativity, I managed to make the stub cannon look like an exotic piece of strange equipment with an indiscernible purpose and look. I would not be able to quick-draw any of my firearms, but it was what it was.

I pondered for a moment if I should leave the helmet behind, but a helmet has always been a good idea, and I was not about to lose an eye or get killed for the sake of aesthetics. I started to wish for a power weapon, but I would have to settle for something more available and the falchions I had secured my men were of good make and there was no reason I couldn't use one myself. Not that I left my field knife behind, but having a proper blade would be great.

When I left my tent, Idris was waiting outside, looking angry and anxious. "Lord Trader!" There was an insistance to her tone that gave me a feeling that it would be best to listen to what she had to say or risk her leading a mutiny.

"Yes, Idris Van Bale, what can I do for you? Speak up, my time is short!" I snapped at her, and the sudden sharpness of my words took some of the wind out of her sails.

"It has been 10 days, Lord. I need to make preparations to take my leave soon. The Imperium waits for no one." She explained, and she was right. I only had 10 days to get some results that could be used to argue why I needed her troops here instead of on the trading lanes.

"We move to secure proof that I can keep you and your troops here for as long as I need. I wish for you to join me. Bring your guards, we are walking into danger. And don't worry, I only plan to be gone for a few hours, leaving plenty of time for us to return you to your trade lanes. And no, you do not have a choice, I need you to witness that I spoke the truth, with your own eyes." She didn't like my words at all and did not attempt to hide it, but she still tried to weasel her way out.

"Lord, I am no soldier, nor a very capable fighter-" She began what I had no doubt was a very well-rehearsed and well-used speech, and I was having none of it.

"Idris, you are a chartist captain, in charge of a damn trade fleet, so don't bullshit me about your abilities! You may not be a good soldier, but I am certain that when you have your back against the wall, you are an extremely cunning and dangerous individual. And no, I am not going to have you killed to silence you, if I wanted that, I would have executed you the moment you let your mask drop at your first arrival when you thought Dartma was still in charge of this planet. You may operate using smoke and mirrors, but I do not. Now, go get dressed for combat and meet us at the tunnel leading into the mountain in no more than 30 minutes. If I do not see you and your entourage at that time, I will assume you have abandoned your posts and declare you renegades."

My words had a profound effect, turning her anger into fear in an instant. Being branded a renegade would see her dead within a matter of minutes, maybe hours if she was lucky. There was no chance she would escape if she went against me. I decided to extend an olive branch and give her at least a shred of reassurance that she was in no more danger than the rest of us.

"I have no desire to see you dead, but I need you to know that I spoke the truth about this enemy. And I need you to know that you can trust me when I say my interests are aligned with the Imperiums. So go, Idris. Dress for battle and say your prayers. Because it is time to go seek out the enemy no one wishes to find."

And so, only 20 minutes later, 500 locally trained soldiers, Idris, her entourage, myself, and a few squads of personal guards made our way down the tunnel leading into the mountain. despite our numbers, there was no chatter, no idle banter, and very little boasting from recruits eager for glory. The few that attempted such bravado were quickly silenced by their superiors, the veterans sensing the same thing I did. Danger. There had been strange looks at my armor, especially from the veterans among the locals, and no small amount of scoffing, since my armor looked more like glorified ceremonial plating, than actual armor, in their eyes. Especially Idris gave me a weird look and even went so far as to raise an eyebrow at me when she noticed my stub cannon, firmly secured to my left thigh. As if I cared, I preferred the safety of having a gun on me.

All around us, the sense of immense danger was pressing down on us. The darkness was thicker, the light from our torches seemed dim and weak, the air stank of death, rot, and rodents. There were no sounds beyond the noise we made as we moved. No skittering of little feet on the ground, no insects crawling on the walls, nothing. I suspected that the wards I had found on the space station were being used extensively throughout the mountain but there was nothing I could do about that, the time and effort required would amount to years. And that was if I had the mountain under complete control. Time dragged on as we moved down the large tunnel, ignoring the small side passages that diverged from what appeared to be a main highway for the Skaven. It was not a good place to be, but it could not be different either. What was worse, the enemy knew we were here, making it a very, VERY dangerous thing to not only move toward their undercity but do so down the main roads the Skaven themselves used.

Time went by as we kept marching, the long wide tunnel seeming endless, though signs of life had started to show themselves, the occasional piece of warpstone, bound with metal wire and hung on the wall as a makeshift source of lighting. The first time we saw it, some of the men moved to touch, perhaps grab it, But I barked at them to the point where even their officers intervened, as they thought I was crossing the line. As a response, I found a small insect crawling on the ground and tossed it at the warpstone. As it burst into flames upon contact, there were no more complaints from the men or their officers.

It was as we were getting back into formation that someone asked, "What is that unholy stench?" but before anyone could answer, we heard the squeaking. It sounded like enlarged rats making a whole lot of noise, but I knew it was the Skaven language, Queekish. We barely had time to register the sound before they started pouring out of every opening and entrance available, dozens and dozens of Skavens streaming out of the tunnels, aiming straight for our rather large group.

"AMBUSH!" The arch militant working for Idris cried out and the reaction was immediate. The local soldiers closed ranks with their shields, forming a circular wall around our group while those equipped with the new repeating crossbows started firing indiscriminately into the throng of rolling claws and fur that closed in on us with frightening speed. The first clip of bolts was barely empty before the living tide hit our shields and the line buckled under the pressure, the men groaning and cursing as they pushed back against the raking claws and snapping teeth. A Skaven came jumping over the line, a piece of sharpened steel fashioned into a crude dagger lifted over its head to strike down when it landed, and I swung my falchion, hitting the beast in the torso, carving halfway through the body. A shower of black blood rained down over me as I pulled my sword back to avoid it getting stuck in the falling body and it hit the ground, twitching in death cramps. I grabbed the corpse around the neck and yelled "FIGHTING RETREAT!" before I gave a shove in the direction we came from to get the group moving.

My order was repeated time and time again until the entire group was moving slowly back to where we came from. The dead Skaven piled around our feet as we fought to get back to safety, but I noticed some of the ratkin busying themselves with looting their dead comrades rather than pressing the attack. That and their ragged appearance, their lack of clothes, the tattered strips of cloth they had fashioned into something resembling primitive clothes could not even be called rags, and the general weak physiology of the enemy suggested this was nothing more than Skaven slaves, being driven forward to either get rid of us or hopefully overrun us. But they would not succeed, the slaves were malnourished and cowardly, even by Skaven standards. Their lack of any form of equipment also meant they had to rely on their natural weapons, claws, and teeth, to do any damage. And those came up short against hardened and studded leather and steel armor.

More than once I felt and heard the screech of claws raking across my pauldrons and chest plate, the ratkin were lightning fast and just as agile, but they lacked the strength to go head-to-head with a human in a pure contest of power. Every time a blade fell through the air, the screech of a dying Skaven filled the air and mixed with the ungodly stench of their fear glands. They could not win this sort of engagement and they knew it as well as we did, and this made the Skaven fearful, but when you backed them into a corner, like these slaves no doubt were caught between our blades and the anger of their masters if they returned alive and defeated, the desperation fueled their fury.

They died by the hundreds, their dismembered bodies and filthy black blood littered the ground and covered us in grime and filth as we hacked, stabbed, kicked, punched, and otherwise took the lives of these filthy mutants. We were not immune to damage though, and every so often a set of claws or teeth would find unarmored flesh and do their best to cause as much damage as possible. The wounds were grievous and would most likely get fatally infected unless they were treated within the hour. To say that the Skaven were a filthy species would be a gross understatement.

The cacophony of screeching, shouting, cursing, grunting, roaring, and multiple other sounds made it all but impossible to hear what the man next to you was saying, but we all knew what way to go. It was only a matter of time before we came into range of our backup, 800 troops and 3 severely pissed off Ogryns that had recently seen their leader suffer a serious injury. But I didn't want the Ogryns fighting yet, I wanted to keep them back in case of rat ogres, which the Skaven would no doubt pit against us. What their species lacked in raw strength, they made up for with cunning and ingenuity, mixed with an extreme carelessness towards the danger of what they were doing. Many a Skaven packmaster had died at the hands of his creatures, and even more, had died at the hands of greedy customers wanting their warpstone tokens back after making a purchase.

We hadn't lost anyone yet, incredibly enough, but the frontline soldiers kept rotating out wounded men, putting them in the second and third line of men holding the ranks together, our bolts kept flying out of our circle, though at much slower speeds. It was reassuring that the archers tried conserving ammo, trying to make every shot count. It didn't stop the tidal wave of bodies trying to overrun us but it prevented them from gaining any proper momentum. The arch-militant was invaluable, his expertise in the field of killing shone through as nothing and no one got near him before they met death, his twin blades claiming multiple lives by the second.

Over the fighting, I thought I heard orders being shouted, but there was too much noise around me to be sure. But as I thought I heard someone yelling orders in the distance, I no longer needed to hear the orders. Somehow I knew that reinforcements were making their way down the tunnel to assist us, and almost equal to the number of men I already had. More regiments had arrived, at with the growing numbers, and the sound of combat from the tunnel we entered, someone must have chosen to move to assist us.

The air filled with electrically charged energy that made the hairs on my body stand on end, and the Skaven assault changed character from desperate to frenzied. I desperately looked around for the source of this change and my eyes fell upon ratkin, wearing a robe and hood of fine quality, the grey fur and large horns on its head let me know I was looking at a grey seer, no doubt the one chosen to lead this assault on us. Or maybe he had been proactive and decided to take care of us for his own nefarious purposes. He was chewing vigorously on a crumbling piece of green glowing stone in his mouth while he chanted in Queekish. Before I could react, he extended a gnarled paw with claws the length of small daggers, and green bolts of warp lightning spread out toward my soldiers.

There was nothing I could do as dozens of my men were engulfed in lightning that killed them before they had time to realize what was happening to them. The grin on the stupid Skaven's face was too much for me to handle. I would not allow my men to die in such a manner, not without consequence. I holstered my falchion and grabbed the grip of my stub cannon, but before I could draw it, Idris was at my side, holding on to my arm.

"No, Lord, we are fobidden!" She yelled over the noise, but I shoved her aside, drew the gun, took aim, and pulled the trigger. The deafening *BOOM* that rang out stopped the fighting as everyone, man and ratkin, tried to locate the source. When their eyes fell on me, they followed my aim and their eyes fell on the grey seer.

With most of his torso blown off, the only thing keeping him upright was his tight grip on the staff beside him and he was swaying heavily as his brain came to accept the fact that his body was dead, and the moment he fell over, one of the sergeants from the local troops gave a mighty roar and charged out of the group, attacking with wild abandon as he moved toward the now growing sound of our reinforcements, who were charging up the tunnel at full speed if the noise of running boots were any indication. It only took a second, but the entire group followed his example, charging down the tunnel. The Skaven, now robbed of their leader and the greatest threat to their lives should they flee, opted to follow their natural instincts and get as far away from the danger as was physically possible for them, and the way forward was more or less clear by the time we had taken 10 steps.

I was still dragging the corpse of the Skaven that had jumped at me and it was important to me that I brought it back. Not only to secure access to Idris's fleet and troops, but also to send a message to the Imperium at large, and specifically the Inquisition. If they were here, there was a chance they could be on other Imperial planets, and a general Imperium-wide search had to be undertaken. The corpse was my proof and I damn well needed to bring it back with me, to be picked up by Imperial representatives at a later date.

The local soldiers kept sending me side glances, and a few of those with more keen eyes were trying to get a good look at my stub cannon, but mushed together as we were while we ran toward salvation, there was no opportunity for them to satisfy their desire. If I was lucky, they would forget what they saw, though I doubted it. If not, they would have to die.

We did not do a fighting retreat as much as we just ran, cutting down everything that stood in our path as we did so, and within a minute, we ran into the reinforcements who promptly turned around and kept up pace with us, helping to drag and carry the wounded that was still in a position to be saved. Those whose wounds were too serious would be cared for and eventually burned once they died of their wounds. I was not about to risk warp shenanigans with the corpses of my dead soldiers. And it would prevent the ratkin from using them as an impromptu food source.

It wasn't until we reached the relative safety of our barricades that everyone stopped running, but I didn't mind. I had gotten what I came for, and one look at Idris told me that she needed no further convincing. To be honest, I was surprised how well she was holding up, for a merchant captain. Sure, they suffered the occasional pirate attack, but considering that she had an entire fleet under her name and the reluctance with which she followed the orders to join this little trip. She was gasping for air, clutching her rapier, and keeping her eyes firmly fixated on the dangling Skaven corpse in my hand.

I threw the corpse on the ground in front of her and said" There, Idris, is the proof you need to excuse yourself from your regular duties and answer the call to war. I expect your men to start arriving at dawn." And with that, I spun on my heel and walked away, once more dragging the corpse of the ratkin. There were things to do, reports to write, messages to send, and a war to plan. And now that the local troops had started arriving, I could get to work on pushing our frontline into the mountain. I couldn't set up too close to their undercity, not if I wanted us to survive. I needed to spend valuable soldiers on scouting parties that could find the most defensible locations.

Unless... I had to gather the commanders and have them scour their ranks for anyone who used to work in these mines. It was a long shot, but perhaps there was someone who either knew their way around or had access to a person who did and could assist in making maps for us. I sighed deeply. I had just left the field of battle, and I was already knee-deep in new worries and half-made plans. No rest for the wicked, indeed. I needed to relax, but I couldn't afford to dull the mind with alcohol, so I settled for a Lho-stick. With a heavy sigh, I managed to light it with the embers from one of the small braziers inside the tent and sat down to have a moment to myself. I spent a minute making a list of goods to be gathered from the things taken from the former Governor's private stock. Idris had done reasonably well with little in the way of resistance. An expensive gift of rare goods would go an extremely long way to soothe the demands I had put on her resources.

Halfway through the Lho-stick and with the list barely done and handed off to a runner, an ungodly roar reverberated through the cave, causing me to jump out of my chair and rip the tent opening to the side to see what was going on. I couldn't immediately see anything, but then the same feeling from the short clash with the Skaven washed over me, and I knew that a massive counterattack was forming in the very same tunnel I had fought my way out of minutes earlier. And that roar could only be rat ogres descending on our barricades.

"TO ARMS! ARMS YOURSELVES, THE ENEMY IS HERE!" I yelled as loudly as I could to rouse the soldiers around me. "TO THE BARRICADES! GET UP AND FIGHT IF YOU WANT TO LIVE!" The cave made my voice boom with the echo, spreading my message to every soldier within the mountain, and I grabbed a young man who was standing around with a confused look on his face. "Run to the barricades outside and get more troops!" I snarled before shoving him toward the other side of the cave, and he started running as if he had daemons chasing him. This was not too far off from the truth, considering that the Horned rat which the Skaven worshipped, was a minor chaos god in the established lore from back home.

There was no more time to do anything, the sounds of battle were being heard from the barricades and soldiers were streaming from all over the cave to reinforce their friends. Even the guards stationed at the larger crevices were moving to join them, but a sharp command from their commanding officers made them stay at their designated positions, despite their instincts to join the fight. We could not afford to be attacked in the rear right now. And I should have expected this. We killed a grey seer, one of the priest caste among the Skaven, as close to royalty as you could get without killing a member of the council of 13. Unless, of course, I had been so lucky. The vermin had been rather careless about the seeming expenditure in life and warpstone when it engaged in combat. There was simply no way of knowing, and I rushed toward the barricade to assist as best I could.

It took less than a minute to make it there, but everything was chaos and pandemonium when I arrived. Officers trying to get soldiers into the best positions, soldiers trying desperately to plug any hole in the defense, and a sea of Skaven trying to wash over us. There was actual equipment on these attackers, which meant the clan rats had been engaged in combat. the "regular citizens" of the Skaven empire, they could at least afford knives and spears, and the most rudimentary of clothing and armor. I could see large halberds, slowly making their way toward our front, which meant this was a dedicated assault. Stormvermin didn't seek out minor skirmishes, they wanted large battles to showcase their ferocity and violence so they could be favored by whatever Skaven leader they served. If they were here, this was a dedicated attack, meant to either see us leave the mountain, fall under their claws, or leave us so wounded and exhausted that we have to abandon our invasion. I also suspected the Skaven lords having taken offense to me initiating an offensive on their home, in the days before they did the same thing to expand their territory. The vermin had always had big egos and a terrible case of "main character syndrome", eternally doomed to think that everything happening in the world happened purely to aid or spite them, and I would not be surprised if this was the work of a Skaven lord attempting to right some perceived slight against him.

Of course, it could just be a reaction to having me kill a grey seer so casually, the unknown danger I represented after such an action would undoubtedly put the biggest target on my back, but I couldn't worry about that. I had started down a path of a leader who led by example, and I would have to continue down said path or see all the authority and integrity I had built up, crumble in front of my very eyes.

It was a short run to the tunnel leading into the mountain and when I arrived, everything was chaos. A desperate shield wall was fighting with all its might to prevent being overrun, 2 rat ogres were doing their damned best to push through while the corpse of a third rat ogre lay peppered with the crossbow bolts being fired in a steady stream from the back lines and raised platforms on the inside of the barricades. The living ocean of Skaven trying to push their way in were better equipped, some of them with actual armor and decent weapons, and all of them with as proper clothes as you could find among the ratkin. To me, it was more than obvious that my little excursion and subsequent fight that saw a grey seer dead was the cause of the anger being directed at us. This was not the work of the council of Thirteen nor of a single grey seer trying to assert themselves. This was the collective effort of the grey seers being pitted against me, to punish me for killing one of them so casually. I had shown the slaves around them that the grey seers were mortal, and that they died just as easily and quickly as the rest of them. And for that, I had to be punished.

The dead continued to pile up on both sides, but the Skaven had the advantage. This was their territory and they had numbers on their side.

This... This had not been a good idea. Not a good idea at all.

I stood there for a moment, taking in the enormity of the situation I had unleashed upon myself, and I realized that I would come up short in the long run. I might win now, I might even win the next 100 engagements. But unless I added a magnifier to the power of my troops, I would at best be able to achieve a stalemate that would see this world devolve into a planet that spent more resources than it put out, making it an effective cost for the Imperium instead of a gain. Drastic measures had to be taken to ensure these people could continue to live their lives the way they had always done. If not, they would become a war world, a breeding ground for veteran soldiers of the Imperium. But first, we had to survive this and I threw myself into the fray with unusual abandon. Maybe it was the knowledge of what the rats would do to me if we failed, or maybe I just finally had enough of this cruel and cold existence that had been thrown at me. Or maybe I was just changing as a result of being in this universe. In any case, I sought the frontline and joined combat where the fighting was hardest.

One of the rat ogres had made it within reach of the shields and was swiping at our lines while using the corpse of Skaven to shield itself from the worst of our ranged fire. Every attack it made saw men fall over, either from wounds or simply from the brute strength of the attack, and every fallen man was a potential opening for the Skaven who never failed to capitalize on an opportunity to gain the upper hand, and they pushed forward, unrelenting in their efforts. I stabbed, punched, kicked, hacked, and swung the best I could along with the troops around me, but we were losing ground and losing it fast. Something had to be done if we were to be victorious, but the only ace I had up my sleeve would break Imperial decree, more than I had already done. Screw Imperial decree, it was this or see the world fall into chaos!

"FIRING LINES, LAS PISTOLS ARE FREE TO USE!" I cried out, over and over, trying to shout over the squealing, snarling, screaming, roaring, clanging of blades, and other noises that filled the air. Native troops near me looked at me like I had gone crazy, but at least a few dozen soldiers pulled back from the frontline and formed two ranks with the front rank kneeling, and produced las pistols from their robes before they unloaded on the Skaven ranks.

To the technologically advanced enemies of the Imperium, the las pistol and las gun were little more than a nuisance. But it was still a beam of concentrated light powerful enough to punch holes in concrete and blow off limbs, and against the Skaven and their mostly unarmored or lightly armored troops, it was like taking a scythe to a field of grass. Hundreds died in the initial volleys of fire, and their bodies had barely hit the ground, clearing the line of sight, before the next volleys lanced through the air. You could say a lot about the Imperium, but when troops had a leader who cared how well-trained they were, they became frighteningly effective at what they did. The rat ogres both disappeared under concentrated fire from my troops, and the extreme slaughter the Skaven found themselves to be the victim of, stunned them into inaction for a few moments. Time that was used by the native troops, who had now gotten over their initial shock of my troops using gunfire, to aid as best they could with their crossbows, adding further killing potential to the torrent raining down on the unprepared Skaven.

The Skaven attack was not just halted, it was destroyed. A massacre on an obscene scale, hundreds dying every moment as the las shots scythed through the thin, wiry ratkin and the crossbow bolts found panicking bodies with their backs turned. it was a rout, even the Stormvermin, betrayed by their large halberds and actual iron armor, were pulling away from the battlefield as fast as their legs could carry them.

Surprisingly fast, as it turned out, especially since they did not hesitate to cut down anyone and anything standing in the way of their retreat. I couldn't help but sneer with contempt at the sight, their scorn of compassion and sense of community was the very thing that prevented their race from rising to the top. They reproduced fast and in large numbers, they had a natural resistance to chaos energies, they were able to wield enormous and terrible psychic powers, and even knew to work mutation to their advantage, as seen in their rat ogres. They could work warpstone into useable weapons, even consume it to magnify their psychic powers. In short, they were the perfect counter to the Orks, the other big contender for top species, but their lack of unity, like the Orks, was their great flaw.

When the last Skaven had fled or been killed, a weird silence fell on the gathered soldiers. Even Idris was present, though I had not seen her during the fight, and she was staring at me. For a moment, I had no idea why she was looking at me with such intensity, but then it dawned on me. There was no way around it. Not unless I wanted every soldier in the Imperium turned against me by a vindictive Chartist captain.

"Guardsmen, fulfill the Emperor's decree!" The words left my mouth, but it felt like I was not the one giving the order. There was no hesitation in the troops Idris and I had brought with us. In an instant they turned on the native troops that were still alive and opened fire, cutting them down before they realized what was happening. They barely had time to scream, much less try to fight back, as my troops' training showed its worth. Precise shots were fired in a calm and controlled manner, without panic, without remorse. They had the luxury of hiding behind the mindset of "just following orders to stay alive", where I had to live with the knowledge that these deaths were squarely on my conscience. I had chosen to break the Imperial decree to save my own life, and by extension, the lives of most of the people on the planet, even if they did not know it, but it didn't make the burden less heavy. On my order, several hundred people just lost their lives for no other reason than me making a choice.

"IDRIS!" I called out. and she slinked out from the shadow of the troops from her ship, blade in hand and a bad case of the after-battle shakes. She was switching her gaze between me and the dead soldiers as she approached me, timid and hesitantly. When she finally rested her eyes on me, there was no small amount of accusation in her eyes.

"I did what Imperial decree demands I do! And I would think that you of all people could understand the need for this to happen. Now, see that my orders are carried out. And make sure they come with plenty of ammunition and explosives. I am going to bring this whole damn mountain down on the heads of these vermin, by sledgehammer if need be!" I defended myself by hiding behind the Imperial decree and Idris knew it, but we both knew I only did it to protect my sanity. Nobody in their right mind could order the death of so many loyal people without a care in the world.

Idris didn't respond, but she didn't stare me down anymore. She seemed more resigned than anything else as if this was not the first time she had been witness to a situation like this, and it struck me once more just how dark and grim this universe could be, even to those in power. Sure, I might not risk getting gunned down for breathing in a manner that is not Imperially regulated, but on the other hand, I was holding the lives of tens of thousands of people in my hands. A single command would see this world purged of human life without question or delay. Was I fine with having such unregulated and total power? How could I guard myself against moral corruption? These questions rang out in my head and decided to stay there, as the now properly armed soldiers took up positions on the barricades. A few of them got to work on moving the bodies outside to be burned. A single body could be burned inside the mountain with little worry. but the amount of bodies we had piled up on both sides at this point warranted fresh air and open spaces to avoid making the air toxic to breathe.

I felt drained. Not from the fight, thought it had been a tough one. But the weight of my actions was taking their toll on me. I needed time to think. To rest. So I made my way back to my tent and informed the guard that I was not to be disturbed for the foreseeable future. But once more, I barely had time to sit down and gather my thoughts before I could hear mumbling outside my tent. The voices grew in volume and I could hear Idris and the guard exchanging harsh words. I had to stop this before it escalated. I walked over and ripped the tent open, Idris and Guard both swinging their heads around to stare at my tired face like 2 kids caught sneaking candy after being told no.

"Let her in, it's obvious she will not let this go, and the sooner I can get some actual rest, the sooner we can get this campaign underway." I stepped to the side and held the tent flap open for Idris to enter, and she did so hesitantly. She waited until the tent flap was back in place and I had taken a seat once more before she spoke up.

"Lord, my apologies for intruding, had I known you were about to rest-"

"I guess a guard telling you I am not to be disturbed, is not enough to convey a message. Should I send a runner with a message every time I lay down to sleep? Or can this rogue trader be allowed to do things the way he desires?" I was cranky and tired, and I made no effort to hide it as if my harsh words were not enough to convey the message. "So kindly get to the point so I can rest!" My words seemed to have the effect I hoped for, as Idris lowered her gaze and her ears turned red from shame.

"Lord, what is expected of people in our positions of power is never easy, and sometimes we have to secure the Imperium, by violence if need be. But it is not the reason I wished to talk with you. I noticed you helping out in the forges some days ago. I was wondering where you learned to work like that. It's not like you gained your rank through sheer luck and promotions, so what rouge trader house would allow the next generation to perform such menial work?" She did her best to remain respectful, and I heard no accusation in her voice, only curiosity and a hint of amusement.

"You are mistaken, Idris. My first taste of combat came from my home planet as a PDF trooper. Through luck, skill, and grit, I have managed to rise to the position of power I now have. That, and I gained the good graces of an Inquisitorial agent after being sent off world to fight against a rebelling hive city. I was not born to this Idris, I got here on my own. And the reason you saw me working the forges, is that the mind gets time to wander and turn around ideas when the hands are busy, It is almost meditative to engage in work I know so well." I was tired, but I didn't care at this point. She owed me her life several times over, and debts were important to merchants, so telling her a bit of my humble beginnings would not be the worst thing.

But apparently, she was not sharing my mindset. "Why are you telling me all of this, Lord?" She asked after a moment of contemplation, and for once, I did not have a response ready.

"Because I understand that I have pulled you into something you would much rather avoid being a part of. You are a chartist captain, running the trade lanes of the Imperium. Your life is predictable, safe apart from the occasional pirate raid, and most of all profitable. And this campaign of extermination I have pulled you into is anything but profitable. If your ship's purser does not report a net loss from your stop here, I might be inclined to let my own go over your numbers." I said the last bit with a small smile on my face and a dismissive gesture to let her know I was joking. "But most of all I am telling you this because you have been wary of me from the beginning, and this state of mind is counterproductive to the both of us. I know I do not fit in among the echelons of power, and in truth, I am not trying to fit in. I don't want to, and now you know why. I just want to serve the Imperium, vanquish its enemies, both internal and external, and see the people under me working in the best conditions I can provide. A happy Imperial is a productive Imperial."

Idris stared at me with an open mouth as I spoke, and it took her almost 30 seconds to gather her wits enough to fully absorb what I had said. "How did you catch the attention of the Inquisition and live?" she asked, and I smiled at the memory as I answered.

"They suspected me of being a psyker when I am just able to inspire the people around me. As a result of their investigation, they decided to offer me this position and a letter of marque, to explore the unknown in the name of the Imperium and the Inquisition. Which should explain their markings on my carapace armor as well. But if you ask me, it's just a way to make sure they have me nearby, should they change their mind and decide I would be better served with the Emperor's mercy. In any case, now you why I might be a bit unconventional, but I trust you understand that I have the Imperium's interests at heart."

We were interrupted by the guard poking his head inside, "Lord, the runner you sent off has returned with your request." He said before shoving a young man in struggling under the weight of a large crate.

"Perfect timing. Idris, I would like to offer you this crate as a small token of appreciation for the help you have provided me. Exquisite silks, expensive jewelry, rare gems, and more. I have also taken the liberty of having 3 barrels of Raenka brandy reserved for transport to your ships. Finally, I think I saw a bottle of Theosophist's Philtre in the crate. I hope it will suffice." I said as I took the crate from the young soldier, who hurried out of the tent again, and put it in front of Idris. For once, she seemed to have nothing to say, doing her best impression of a fish by opening and closing her mouth several times.

"Lord!" She finally managed, "This is too much. Such an extravagant gift in exchange for help that I am bound by Imperial law to provide. I would be hard-pressed to accept it."

"Nevertheless, I would consider it an insult if you refuse it. I have no use for it anyway, my interests are located elsewhere. And I need the space on board my vessel, so it would be better served in the hands of someone who can appreciate its material value." I dismissed her words rather casually, and I was speaking the truth. I had no use for it beyond the goodwill it could secure me when used as gifts like I was doing now. "And I can see how eager you are to inspect it, no need to hold back on my account."

The words had barely left my mouth before she had wrenched the top from the crate, which was quite a feat since it was nailed shut, and was carefully pulling out items to get a closer look. Her small oohs and aahs as she ran her hands over the silks, inspected the gems against the light from the braziers and carefully studied the jewelry work.

"Are these real candles?" she suddenly gasped as she held up a bundle of 12 handmade candles.

"Indeed they are. I hope you can appreciate them more than I do. To me, they are a source of light." The look she sent me told me she considered me insane, but coming from a merchant to a militant rogue trader, it only made sense. I took a seat and lit a new Lho-stick as Idris continued to fawn over her new wealth, which was by no means small. The brandy barrels alone could earn her enough to make this entire venture worth the expense I had put on her. The crate of oddities would most likely find its way to her personal coffers, but who cared? I had turned Idris's opinion of me around, both with my words and with my generous gift. This would help me later in this life, though I did not realize it just yet. As for the now, I had to prepare a plan of attack on the Skaven undercity. And sleep to catch up on, eventually.