Blue Fulminate - A Rogue Trader Story

[Suspicious Blue Mind]

Author's Note:

A while back I posted some questions about Astartes and Rogue Traders to this forum. The result is a future series of stories centered around a Rogue Trader ship called the Star of Damocles. And the following story is selection of chapters from a book I'm working on. At first it started out as last month's 500 word fast fiction, but quickly jumped to 6,000+ words. So, here goes with...

 

 

Blue Fulminate

Part I

 

“In the Antila star system more than twenty millennia ago, the Interex built a great hub of commerce and travel on the system’s fifth planet; but war with the Imperium destroyed their civilization. And ever since then, the planet Antila 5 and its port of Omicron Velorum have changed hands from one star faring race to another many times over. At the present time, the Antila system lies well outside of the Imperium’s zone of control. And as such, its free port of Omicron Velorum is frequented by all manner of races intent on commerce and trade. On any given day there can be found in port, Elquon merchant junks, commercial carracks of the Thexian Trade Empire, freighters from the Draxian Hegemony, Donarathi trading barques, and even the occasional Rag and Bone ship from N’Dras. Furthermore, the port is a home away from home for both Aledari Corsairs and Drukhari Raiders alike; as well as being a haven for both human smugglers and Rogue Traders. This makes Omicron Velorum a marketplace for products of all kinds, from basic food stuffs, to forbidden technology, to weapons. There also exists a trade in rare and exotic artefacts, but few realise the danger in such commerce. Finally, regardless of anyone’s laws or morality, there has existed for millennia a thriving slave market.”

– Inquisitor Jallah Kristina Albuquerque

 

One green moon and one small yellow moon hung in the black sky above the Omicron Velorum space port. The twin moons bathing the city in a sickly green glow. Arcing street lights spat out pinkish-orange illumination to counter the moonlight, and the shadows that crept up the narrow streets and alleys. The ancient port was itself an odd assortment of non-human constructions, asymmetrical spires, off kilter boxes, voluminous domes, and bulbous blobs; each illuminated by its own yellowish or purplish light. Some glowing bluish-green from within like bioluminescent mushrooms. A thick chemical smell always hung in the air above the port’s refineries, which blended with the stench of rotting sea life coming off the harbour; and together they gave Omicron Velorum its own distinctive tear inducing odour.

 

‘Are you sure this is the place master chief?’ asked a wiry blonde haired rating looking across the street.

 

‘Samboli, we’ve been here plenty of times,’ said the tall black master chief. ‘Haven’t we Skipjack?’

 

‘Indeed we have master chief. Indeed we have,’ replied the short abhuman engineseer.

 

Master Chief Fulcrum being quite familiar with all the dives, diners, brothels, and gambling houses of the space port, had decided that The Pain and Pleasure would be their first watering hole. And so, he confidently led his two companions across the street to the bar. The Pain and Pleasure, or Úundrek Lú’jiv, as it’s called in the tongue of the Drukhari, was one of the swankier places at the Omicron Velorum space port. Tucked in as it was, in between a flesh-sculptor’s exotic body shop and an Enoulian second-hand technology and avionics store, The Pain and Pleasure was the place to be. And even on a sultry and sullen night like this one, the bar had the air of ruined splendour. Its jagged black spire jutting out over the street, as if intending to fall upon the unwary traveller, like a dagger out of the dark. 

 

Standing at the bar’s front portal was the massive frame of a Kinebrach bouncer. Under the lumen globe’s ultraviolet light, his large simian face glowed a violet-white colour, while his hair glowed a neon green. Obscura and tabac smoke drifted out of the open entrance.

 

‘Are you sure this is the place master chief?’ asked Samboli removing his soft cap and smoothing his hair.

 

‘Samboli, trust me this is the place!’ answered the master chief removing his soft cap and tucking it under his epaulette.

 

‘I wonder if Vúlvai is workin’ tonight? Y’all know I think she likes me?’ said Skipjack also removing his soft cap, but storing it in his trouser’s cargo pocket.

 

Fulcrum then handed the Kinebrach their entrance fee.

 

‘Urgh!’ grunted the bouncer, and gave his head a jerk for them to enter.

 

‘Skipjack, don’t you mean she likes you well enough to poison your drink?’ said Fulcrum stepping through the front portal.

 

‘Not funny master chief.’

 

‘Wasn’t meant to be.’

 

The interior décor of The Pain and Pleasure was late Vect dynasty, with everything done up in polished jet black. The floors, walls, and ceiling were all done up in jet black. The lumen domes that hovered over the tables were done in jet black. Even the decorative flying buttresses that jutted out everywhere were of jet black. While the bar’s counter top was made entirely of black opal; which gleamed in a rainbow of dark colours. But for all the opulence and glamour of the place, there was much less than met the eye. The furniture was cheap and shoddy; and the whole place showed the signs of neglect and disrepair. And the odour of decay seemed to always linger in the dark corners.

 

The owner-operator of The Pain and Pleasure was a former Drukhari corsair by the name of Tuvoldil the Blind, who was known for serving the rarest and most exotic of beverages. Except for the fact that the drinks were always watered down. Unless of course if you paid extra, then you got the best quality wine, beer, ale, or liquor available. No matter how rare or exotic it might be. And for the right price, the drinks could be spiked with whatever pharmaceutical you preferred, be it hallucinogen, stimulant, or psychoactive. And for yet another additional fee, you could have the drink delivered to whomever you wanted to at the establishment.

 

The master chief and his companions found the downstairs was already crowded, filled with the usual clientèle found in the space port, Aledari Rangers, Thraxians traders, Galgs psykers, Tarellian Dog soldiers, and even a handful of Kroot Hunters. Along with an odd assortment of humans from various Rogue Trader and smuggler vessels. Fulcrum now led his companions around the edge of the concave bar, avoiding the mass of tables in the centre, with their less than friendly xenos occupants. Along the opposite curved wall were alcoves that appeared to have been cut from solid black obsidian, but in reality weren’t. And inside each alcove was a table, above which there hovered a black lumen globe.

 

‘I see them! There’s Chief Avarga and Narvus sitting at a back table,’ said Fulcrum waving.

 

There at an alcove at the back of the bar, sat a lone crewmen in blue dungarees; while next to him someone sat in the shadows, with only their large hands being visible.

 

‘Howdy there fellas!’ shouted Skipjack grabbing a stool.

 

‘Ekei’qy, Engineseer First Class Dalbrobuldimmekson,’ said the blue skinned crewmen putting down his ale.

 

‘Chief ’Varga, Skipjack took us to this great place to eat. We had something called fajitas!’ said Samboli starting to slide into the booth.

 

But then Fulcrum and Skipjack both said, ‘No!’

 

‘Samboli, you sit on the outside next to Chief Avarga,’ said the master chief.

 

‘Why do I always gotta sit with my back to the door?!’ complained the rating.

 

‘’Cause Samboli, if the bad guys come through the door, so we can use you as cover!’ answered Skipjack making a pistol out of his hand, and pretending to shoot. ‘Pew, pew, pew!’

 

‘And because, you’re the lowest rating here…,’ said Master Chief Fulcrum putting a big black hand on his shoulder, as he scooted into the booth next to Narvus. ‘…But just know, that your sacrifice will not have been in vain!’

 

‘Chief ’Varga? Brother Narvus?’ pleaded Samboli looking at the other two crewmen already at the table.

 

Narvus made no reply from where he sat in the shadows, except to pick up his pitcher of black ale. His large hand, along with the pitcher, then disappearing back into the shadows.

 

Avarga, however, turned his noseless blue face to the rating and said, ‘No worries Voxcast Operator Third Class Beaubein, I will see that no harm comes to you my vesa.’

 

‘Thanks chief,’ said Samboli sitting on the stool, as the Tau firewarrior poured him a tall glass of ale.

 

All five crewmen who sat drinking ale that night at the table, wore the same blue dungarees bearing the patch of the Star of Damocles on the left shoulder. Skipjack’s dungarees also bore the skull and cogwheel sigil of the Adeptus Mechanicus on the right shoulder. But all of them that night were there, because Captain Hildiwara had brought the Star of Damocles to the Omicron Velorum space docks for a refit and resupply. For which the crew was mighty appreciative, as this was their first planetfall in quite sometime.

 

A Drukhari barmaid named Amalpusi approached the crew’s table bearing refill pitchers of ale. She wore skin tight black leather that was strategically slashed to reveal midriff, curves and cleavage, and a pair of spiked knee high boots. Her kilometre high magenta hair was shot through with lethal hair pins and hidden blades. She laid down the tray laden with the two pitchers of black ale; and then with a sneer and a snap of her boots, she walked away. Samboli kept his head down, Avarga didn’t turn his head, while Narvus simply retrieved his refill pitcher. Meanwhile, the master chief just gave off a bemused chuckle. Only Skipjack laid eyes on the Drukhari woman, keeping a target lock on her slender backside, as she sashayed her way back to the bar.

 

‘If you’re wondering Skipjack, that ain’t Vúlvai,’ said Fulcrum.

 

‘I know, Vúlvai is the one with the green hair,’ said Skipjack stroking his beard. ‘Y’all know, I braided my beard just ’cause we was comin’ here tonight?’

 

‘And doused yourself with enough “smell purty” to choke an Ambull from three metres away!’ said Samboli holding his nose and pretending to gag.

 

‘Samboli, you’re pert near to getting yer ownself in trouble!’ replied Skipjack putting a gnarled hand on the table.

 

‘Woah, woah give the young man a break there Engineseer! We all know just what a temper dwarves have, but is it worth it?’ said Fulcrum throwing an arm out between Skipjack and Samboli. ‘Besides, sitting right here next to you, I can attest to the… potency of your cologne!’

 

The dwarf Engineseer leaned back and crossed his arms, his face as hard as flint.

 

‘Engineseer Gimrak Dalbrobuldimmekson, please let go of this small offence,’ said Avarga looking at Skipjack. ‘We are here after all to relax and enjoy one another’s company are we not? Would you do this for me vesa?’

 

‘If Samboli will up and apologize…maybe?’ he replied looking away.

 

‘Beaubean, do you apologize?’ asked Avarga.

 

Samboli made a face like he was being asked to kiss a squig; but then offered a hand to Skipjack and said, ‘For you Chief ’Varga, I’ll apologize.’

 

‘I accept…’ said Skipjack taking the proffered hand and shaking it. ‘…But just for your sake chief Avarga,’ he said nodding to the firewarrior.

 

‘Ow! Did you have to squeeze so hard Skipjack?’ said Samboli shaking his hand.

 

‘Yep, “I’m sorry” don’t mean nuthin’ unless it hurts!’

 

‘Alright you two, are we good?’ asked Fulcrum looking at both Skipjack and Samboli.

 

Samboli shook his sore hand and nodded his head, but Skipjack just shrugged.

 

‘You are not holding any grudges are you Mister Dalbrobuldimmekson?’ asked Avarga.

 

‘None,’ said Skipjack shooting him a glance from beneath his unibrow.

 

‘So, we’re all good?’ asked the master chief one final time. ‘That’s good, because I want to say a few words.’

 

All eyes were now on the master chief. He rubbed a thumb across his wide black moustache; and standing up took on a serious air saying, ‘I want to take the opportunity to make a toast. Everyone lift your glasses…’

 

The crew all lifted their glasses.

 

‘To the most beautiful ship in the Rogue Trader fleet, and to the greatest vessel that ever sailed the void, the Star of Damocles! To the most cunning and wiliest Rogue Trader captain that ever lived, Captain Hildiwara Guillory-Garfanini! And to the best damn frakking crew I have ever had the privilege of serving with!’

 

The crew all clinked their glasses together and drank deeply.

 

‘And to the newest member of our crew, and one helluva damn fine soldier, Shas’Nvre’Avarga!’ said Fulcrum.

 

‘Hear, hear!’ and ‘Huzzah!’ were heard along with knuckle rapping and table pounding. Avarga stood up and made a half-bow to his fellow crewmen.

 

‘You forgot one chief, ‘To the most beautiful Rogue Trader captain that ever commanded a ship!’ said Samboli looking over his shoulder at Avarga.

 

‘And to the sexist damn captain there ever was too!’ said Skipjack also glancing at the firewarrior.

 

‘Both of those are damn fine points, how the hell could I have forgotten them?!’ said Fulcrum. But then giving Avarga a thoughtful glance he added, ‘And to the bravest man, human or otherwise, to have ever shared her bed!’

 

‘Huzzah!’ they all shouted clinking glasses with Avarga. His cheeks blushing a deep blue, as they finished their ale.

Edited August 24, 2020 by Suspicious Blue Mind

[Suspicious Blue Mind]

Part II

 

A rowdy and drunk mob now began pushing and shoving their way into the already crowded bar; their leader shouted, ‘The Empress of the Void is in the house!’ The leader, a tall black haired man in emerald green dungarees, looked around the bar and shouted, ‘Look who’s here everybody? We’ve got crew from the Star of Damocles!’

 

The man and his retinue then made their way to the back of the bar, where they relieved five Galgs of their table. Looking up, as he yanked the stool out from underneath one of the amphibians, he yelled, ‘Frak me, if it isn’t that low life Master Chief Fulcrum! Tully how the hell are you doing?’

 

‘Chief Verner Pendergaste, I could tell it was you by the smell! Pew, your body odour precedes you!’ yelled Fulcrum waving his hand as if to clear the air.

 

The two men then shook hands as another crewman, a stout red haired female in a naval blue and white uniform, came up next to Pendergaste.

 

‘Master Chief Fulcrum, you know Ensign Faiga from our bridge crew?’ asked Pendergaste.

 

‘Sure I remember her,’ he replied shaking her hand.

 

‘Oh, look Verner it’s true. They do got themselves a Bluie!’ she said drunkenly pointing at Avarga.

 

‘Shas’Nvre’Avarga is the newest addition to our crew, but you can just call him Chief Avarga,’ said Fulcrum.

 

Pendergaste and Faiga both reached out and shook hands with the Tau firewarrior.

 

‘Heard you was bangin’ Captain Hildiwara! Guess she likes the blue willy, eh?’ laughed Faiga.

 

At hearing this Samboli’s face went white, Skipjack’s eyes went wide; and a large hand shot out of the shadows to take the firewarrior by the shoulder. Even Fulcrum gave Avarga a look of concern.

 

‘No comment ensign,’ was all Avarga said.

 

‘Hmm, that’s a sensitive subject with this one! Guess, we bedda leave well enough alone then, eh Verner?’ said Faiga grabbing her chief’s arm.

 

‘Xenos love! What’s the Imperium coming too?!’ laughed Pendergaste; but all the while winking at the firewarrior. Then nudging him with his elbow he said, ‘Besides chief Avarga, that’d be heresy right? Wouldn’t want to get your captain in trouble!’

 

The table got so quiet that you could hear the Galgs at the bar making low barking noises.

 

‘Ooh, and he’s got himself a full head of luxurious black hair too. And I thought the Bluies all shaved their heads, just leaving a little bit for a queue?’ said Faiga reaching over to pinch a loose strand of hair from the back of his head. Now running her fingers through his goatee she cooed, ‘Ooh, and facial hair too! I bet Captain Hildwara loves that!’ But then leaning over to get a closer look at him she murmured, ‘And I’m sure she loves those turquoise eyes of yours don’t she?!’

 

‘C’mon luv let’s sit down and have a drink,’ said Pendergaste taking her by the arm and dragging her over to the table.

                                          

At the Star of Damocles table, all eyes were now on Avarga, who sat there as still as a rock.

 

Samboli whispered out of the corner of his mouth, ‘Skipjack, do I get under the table now?’

 

Skipjack whispered back,‘No.’

 

The small group from the Empress of the Void then sat down at the table, joined by a large Ogryn wearing a pair of round glasses, and smoking a foul smelling cigar. But before Faiga sat down, she wiggled her butt in Avarga’s direction; and in a loud stage whisper said, ‘I wouldn’t mind gettin’ a bit of blue willy meself. Heard that this Bluie’s got himself a wicked thrust!’

 

There was a burst of laughter coming from the Empress of the Void table. Pendergaste stood up and catching Avarga’s eye, pantomimed making vigorous pelvic thrusts, and slapping a woman’s backside. The table roared with laughter again.

 

Fulcrum leaned back and crossing his large arms asked Avarga, ‘How you doing there chief?’

 

Meanwhile, Samboli’s face had gone from white with fear, to red with embarrassment. And with sweat running down his cheeks he asked, ‘Chief ’Varga, you’re not going to start any thing are you? Please say you’re not!’

 

‘Chief, y’all know them boys and girls from the Empress of the Void are frakking idiots don’t ya?’ asked Skipjack.

 

‘I have faith in our Shas’Nvre Avarga,’ said Narvus from the shadows.

 

‘Nuni’qy brother sergeant,’ replied Avarga glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

 

Just then someone placed a large green bottle in the middle of the table. ‘By way of an apology, a little present of amsec. Just to let you know we’re all friends here,’ said Pendergaste nodding to Avarga.

 

Avarga bowed his head in reply.

 

And as Pendergaste left to go sit down, the whole table let out a collective sigh.

 

Samboli knocked back the last of his ale, and with foam still on his upper lip, said, ‘Chief ’Varga, even when you’re sitting there all quiet like. You scare the frakken hell outta me!’

 

It was the turn of the Star of Damocles table to burst out laughing.

 

‘Are we good then chief?’ laughed Fulcrum.

 

‘Dao, master chief,’ laughed Avarga, his upper lip curling into a Tau smile.

 

Fulcrum signalled to the barmaid for shot glasses to be brought to the table. This time it was the one called Vúlvai, and she sauntered over with all the enthusiasm of someone having to give mouth-to-mouth to a drunken Ork. She leaned over to set down the glasses, but then accidentally on purpose, draped her long teal green hair all over Avarga’s head and neck. Standing up, she then remove a lacquered hair pin, and dropped it on the table in front of him. But, then she walked away as if nothing had happened, her body length teal hair swishing side-to-side to the rhythm of her tight Aledari buttocks.

 

Samboli looked mortified, Skipjack made a face like somebody had stolen his toolbox, and as usual Narvus did nothing. Fulcrum, however, looked over at Avarga and said, ‘Chief, believe me when I say, you don’t want to tap that!’

 

‘No intention of doing so master chief,’ he said picking up the hairpin and carefully laying it at the centre of the table.

 

Fulcrum then broke open the bottle of amsec, and poured each of them a glass. But before they could drink, Pendergaste was heard to shout from the next table, ‘Well, chief Avarga, I heard you hail from this side of the Damocles Gulf? Is that true? Because that’s a mighty long way from here?!’

 

‘Damn it all to hell! Don’t that boy know when to leave well enough alone?’ groused Skipjack furrowing his unibrow.

 

Avarga merely raised an eye ridge, and turning towards Pendergaste said, ‘Yes, chief. I am from the sept world of Vior’los, in what the Imperium calls the Farsight Enclaves.’

 

‘Which means you’re kinda like a rebel right? You’re one of them Bluies who don’t take any :cusse from those Tau chaplains. What do you lot call ’em? Uh…Ethereals? Yeah, that’s it Ethereals! Heard your Generalissimo Farsight stood up to that Ecclesiarch of the Void Aun’Va. Told him to take the Greater Good and shove it up his azure arse. What a guy!’

 

‘Whada guy!’ yelled the Ogryn slamming his hand on the table and laughing much too loudly.

 

‘Hell yes Rolo! And that Bluie Farsight knows how to kick Ork arse too!’ shouted a blonde haired crewman.

 

Avarga uncurled his lip, and setting down his ale, put both hands on the table.

 

‘Chief!’ said Fulcrum leaning forward.

 

‘Yeah, you Bluies don’t have to put up with those Tau religious freaks and their…mind control!’ Pendergaste made wiggling motions with his fingers, while at the same time whistling eerie sound effects. Then laughing out loud he said, ‘Yep, none of their pheromones… or mind conditioning… or indoctrination… or do-as-we-say-not-as-we-do crap! No more kowtowing in the middle of a battle to the Great Space Poobah himself Aun’Va…’

 

Avarga’s face went blank and his turquoise eyes began to loose their colour.

 

‘Chief Avarga listen to me,’ said Fulcrum, also putting his hands on the table.

 

‘And who wouldn’t want to run like hell from the T’au Empire anyway? If you’re a Bluie, you gotta kiss some gorram Ethereal’s backside. And kill yourself if they tell you too, or kill your best mate if they tell you too. Hey, didn’t Farsight have to kill his old teacher Puretide? No, wait… that was Bright Sword wasn’t it?’

 

Avarga’s eyes were now a deep indigo colour.

 

‘Shas’nvre this ain’t worth it,’ said Fulcrum leaning over the table.

‘And if you’re human, it’s come and join the Greater Good! We got clean air, free health care, education for all; but most of all, we got freedom! Then, once you’re in the door, it’s all mass deportations, ethnic cleansing, and genocide. Ethereals and the Greater Good, they’re sure one big frakken lie…’

 

‘I must respond to this. Please do not stop me,’ said Avarga standing up.

 

‘Okay Samboli, you can get under the table now,’ said Skipjack putting a hand to his face. There was a bit of ruckus as Samboli scrambled beneath the table.

 

‘So, that’s it then chief? You just gotta defend the old country? Get a “hoof in” for the Greater Good? Or for the Ethereals whom you really don’t like anyway?’ asked Fulcrum staring into the Tau’s indigo eyes.

 

‘For the Tau’va master chief? Yes.’

 

Avarga stepped up to the Empress of the Void table, and stood between where Pendergaste and Faiga sat.

‘Chief, I don’t think the Tau chief here likes what you’re saying?’ said a tall bald crewman. They all turned around to look at the firewarrior.

 

‘Why is that?’ asked Pendergaste getting up. But then getting a good look at Avarga said with genuine surprise, ‘Woah, you’re not a weedy little fellow are you chief? Hell, you’re even taller than I am!’

 

‘No truer words have ever been spoken Gue’la.’

 

‘Alrighty-y, he just used the “g-word”. Any room under there Samboli?’ said Skipjack ducking under the table.

 

‘So, why would you be bothered by us taken the pish out of the Ethereals?’ asked Pendergaste looking around the room. ‘You and yours don’t like ‘em? The Ethereals I mean. Hell, we don’t like ’em either!’ said Pendergaste offering his hand for Avarga to shake. But Avarga didn’t respond to his offer, but instead stood there quietly.

 

‘How about it Chief Avarga?’ said Pendergaste.

 

Avarga grabbed Pendergaste’s hand, and shot a low kick straight into his right knee cap, the leg bending backwards with a loud crack. Grabbing the human by the hair, he then slammed him face first onto the table. The impact exploding the nose in a spray of red blood. Then yanking him up whilst intertwining his right arm with Pendergaste’s right arm, Avarga dropped his body, while giving a quick twist, and popped the human’s shoulder out of its socket. The chief from the Empress of the Void screamed like a dying Grox.

 

All of this happened before any of his fellow crewmen could even put their drinks down.

 

Letting go of Chief Pendergaste’s arm, Avarga punched Ensign Faiga in the head several times in quick succession. She dropped to the floor without as much as a yelp. The blonde crewman tried to react, but in his haste, he went over backwards on his stool. Avarga then turned to the tall bald man sitting next to Pendergaste. The man pushed off from the table, only to have Avarga throw a high kick to his face. The bald man’s quick reflexes meant the kick missed; but then he grabbed the side of his face shouting, ‘Frak me!’

 

Blood gushed from a long gash on the right side of his face. The titanium steel blade on Avarga’s left spur had found its mark. Avarga then proceeded to move around the table towards Rolo the Ogryn.

 

The blonde crewman was now up, and pulling the Ogryn to his feet, the two of them then faced off with Avarga. But the initiative was with the firewarrior, and he shot a forward kick into the man’s abdomen. The blonde man folded up double and dropped to the floor. Turning to the Ogryn, Avarga slammed his forehead into the bridge of his nose. There was a loud thwack sound as all at the same time, Rolo’s glasses broke, his nose flattened, and he swallowed his cigar. The Ogryn staggered backwards, and fell over onto the next table, collapsing it flat.

 

Faiga, who was still on the floor, drew her laspistol; but the bald man was also up, and back in the fight. Though bleeding profusely, and with one hand on his cheek, the man had managed to yank free his bolt pistol. Avarga quickly assessed the situation; and picking his target, moved swiftly towards the bald man. And slamming a hoof into the man’s groin, dropped the man, bolt pistol and all. With the table now safely between himself and the ensign, Avarga calmly moved around behind her. She tried to roll over and shoot, but her intoxicated aim was off, and the shot went wild. One of the hovering lumen globes exploded in a shower of black glass and powdered mercury.

 

Just then the blond crewman staggered back to his feet, and Avarga dispatched him with a roundhouse kick to the head. Meanwhile, Faiga was still desperately trying to get a bead on the firewarrior, popping off shots in all directions. The result was that everyone in the bar had to dive for cover; which caused the Drukhari barman to scream in Low Gothic, ‘No firearms in the bar you frakken mon-keigh!’

 

Avarga was close enough now to take the laspistol out of her hand with a sweeping kick. Suddenly disarmed, the ensign lay cowering on the floor. Avarga came and stood over her, watching her whimper; but then gave her a swift kick to the abdomen to silence her. And as a parting gesture, he drove the blade of his right spur into her left eye, and yanked it out sideways. She was still screaming, when he stepped over her to get to Pendergaste.

 

In the meantime, the chief had slipped off the table. And was precariously balancing himself on a stool, in a vain attempt to keep his right arm and leg clear of the floor. Avarga grabbed him by the scruff of the collar, and slammed him back down on the table. Pendergaste screamed again in pain; but screamed even more, when Avarga flipped him over onto his dislocated shoulder. Getting down to cradle the human’s head in the crook of his arm, Avarga drew his dirk, or mont’myr, from his belt. Ramming it into the table close to Pendergaste’s neck; he then levered the blade down, until it touched the man’s throat saying, ‘All I have to do is put my weight on the blade, and I will cut your head off, as easy as if I was slicing bread. Understand Gue’la?’

 

Pendergaste gurgled his understanding and stared up in fear at Avarga.

 

‘T’ah, what can I say that will get you to understand Gue’la? You may not know this; but before the coming of the Auns or Ethereals, we Tau were a… how you do your people say it? A nasty piece of work? Yes, that’s it! We were a nasty piece of work. Tribe fought against tribe, nation against nation, and dynasty against dynasty. Until at last, there was only war…’

 

Pendergaste blew blood bubbles from his shattered nose, and he rolled his eyes trying to follow Avarga’s words.

 

‘Gue’la, why you would not recognize us back then. We were all savages, brutal and uncivilized! That was of course before the Auns arrived, and gave us the Tau’va, or the “Greater Good” as you call it in your language…’

 

Pendergaste started to give off muffled screams, so Avarga lowered the dirk enough to draw blood. And through gritted teethplates he yelled, ‘Shut up Gue’la I am still talking. And right now I need your undivided attention!’

 

Pendergaste choked off his moaning and went quiet.

 

‘But these days Gue’la we’re all neat, clean and civilized! The very model of an enlightened intergalactic race. Why ‘Unity and Equilibrium, Progress and Growth’ is our motto now. And we are all about peaceful coexistence and cooperation. And why is that? Because of the Ethereals and their teachings on the Greater Good of course! Still, you would not want to see us when there are no Ethereals around. You really, really would not want to see us then!’

 

Avarga tightened his grip on Pendergaste’s head, and in a half-whisper said, ‘But guess what Gue’la, my people have no Ethereals!’ And pressing the dirk even tighter to the human’s throat he said, ‘That is correct, in the Enclaves there are no Auns; which makes us out-an-out savages. And do not take my word for it. Just ask our brothers from the T’au Empire, why they call us the O’res’la – Heroic Barbaric Beings! Just as if we were Orks. And so without any Ethereals around Gue’la, you have no idea what we might do? Why we are libel to break your knee cap, and slam your face into a table. Maybe even dislocate your shoulder. Snae’ta, we might even put a knife to your throat, and threaten to cut your head off. We-could-do-just-about-anything!’

 

And with that final word, Avarga flicked the blade across Pendergaste’s throat.

 

[Suspicious Blue Mind]

Part III

 

‘Aaargh!’ screamed the human clutching at his throat, blood pouring from between his fingers.

 

‘Shut up Gue’la, I did not cut deep enough to even nick the carotid artery!’ said Avarga wiping his blade on the corner of the human’s jacket.

 

Word of the fight had reached other crewmembers of the Empress of the Void, and a large mob of them now burst into The Pain and Pleasure. Barrelling their way to the back of the bar, they stopped when they saw the bleeding bodies on the floor. A powerfully built black crewman yelled, ‘What the frak happened here?’

 

‘Chief Pendergaste and his party needed a lesson in courtesy and respect,’ said Master Chief Fulcrum stepping up alongside Avarga. He was joined by Skipjack on his right, and Samboli on his left.

 

‘Frak the Bluie master chief! He attacked our Chief Pendergaste…’

 

‘It’s Chief Olufaso isn’t it?’ asked Fulcrum. ‘Well, Chief Olufaso you should know that Pendergaste here was bad mouthing our Chief Avarga and his Tau culture…’

 

‘Hey, frak the Bluie and his gorram frakken xenos culture! Let us have him master chief, or we’re stomping the frak out of you too!’ yelled Olufaso. The crew from the Empress of the Void now drew their riggers knives; and all of them were itching for a fight.

 

A deep rumbling voice filled the whole bar, ‘I think not!’

 

Standing there behind Fulcrum and Avarga was the massive 2.45 metre tall frame of Brother Sergeant Narvus, the top of his head just clearing the lumen globes.

 

‘Frak me! You have a Black Shield Astartes on the Star of Damocles?!’ said the chief from the Empress of the Void.

 

‘Those are not good odds chief,’ said Avarga pointing his knife at Olufaso.

 

That’s when Olufaso and the crew of the Empress of the Void looked around and saw that most of the xenos patrons in the bar had joined the crew of the Star of Damocles. Behind them now were the Kroot, Thraxians, Aldedari Rangers, and the Tarellian Dog-soldiers. Even the Galgs had joined them with broken bottles and legs snapped off barstools. And they croaked their enthusiastic approval at a potential bar fight.

 

‘Frak me! Frak me! Frak me! They’ve got Tau, Astartes, Aledari, Kroot and Galgs on their side?! What about the rest of you humans? Are you with us or with the xenos lovers?’ yelled Olufaso loudly.

 

But the answer he got was not the one he expected. The human patrons either just sat quietly at their tables, or got up and stood next to the crew of the Star of Damocles. One female chief in yellow dungarees shouted back, ‘Why don’t you just frak off now!’

 

‘Listen up all of you from the Empress of the Void! You’ve got a bad bunch here that crossed the line, and they paid the price for it. So it’s time for you to move out!’ shouted Fulcrum. Then pointing to the bar he said, ‘And if you thought the odds were bad before, well those Drukhari over there have got splinter rifles aimed at you. So, you might just want to pick up your trash, and get the hell out of here, before they commence firing!’

 

Sure enough, the Dark Aledari barman and his two barmaids, had splitter rifles aimed at the crew from the Empress of the Void. Seeing the inevitable outcome of the situation, the crew in green dungarees hoisted up the bodies of their bleeding companions, and began shuffling out of the front entrance. And it was at that point that the entire bar burst out in cheers and clapping for Chief Avarga. Who, in Tau fashion, just responded with a bow.

 

It was while the cheering was going on that Skipjack walked up to Rolo the Ogryn, whose fellow shipmates were having a hell of a time getting him off the floor.

 

‘Well, looky who’s still awake!’ said Skipjack leaning over him.

 

‘Aye, I am,’ he muttered looking up through the frames of his broken glasses.

 

‘Well, that’s not bad. Usually, when Chief Avarga head butts an Ork Nob, he knocks him out cold!’

 

‘Ooh, then I’m bedda then an Ork Nob, eh? That’s grand!’ replied Rolo. And with that they managed get him off the floor and onto his feet. And as Skipjack watched Rolo stagger out of the bar with a shipmate under each arm; at the other end of the bar, the master chief was settling the bill with the barman.

 

‘I know, I know, “Sorry for the mess!” That’s what all of you mon-keigh always say when you come in here!’ said the bald Drukhari still holding his splinter rifle.

 

‘I think that should cover it?’ said Fulcrum handing him a dataslate.

 

The Drukhari raised and eyebrow, and handed the dataslate to his barmaid Amalpusi.

 

,,If the black mon-keigh is going to pay you this much, then why not charge him more?’’ she said speaking Aledari. There was an exchange of small gestures between the barman and the barmaid; when they noticed that standing behind the master chief, were two Aledari Rangers. And by their body posture alone, communicated to the barman that the offer was final. So he put a thumb on the corner of the dataslate and handed it back to Fulcrum with a sneer.

 

Meanwhile, Avarga was standing there quietly receiving compliments and congratulatory handshakes from the other Rogue Trader crews. As well as congratulatory signs from the other xenos crews, with the Galgs being the most vocal in their barks of approval. When his eyes had regained their natural turquoise colour, and the well wishers had finally come and gone; he glanced up at Narvus and asked, ‘Walk with me brother sergeant?’

 

‘After you shas’nvre,’ replied Narvus following Avarga out of the bar.

 

Meanwhile, the female chief in the yellow dungarees walked up to Skipjack and Samboli and asked, ‘Why didn’t you two back up your chief? What were you cowards hiding from under the table?’

 

Skipjack and Samboli looked at each other, and then Skipjack said, ‘You know the usual… shrapnel.’

 

‘Like teeth,’ said Samboli.

 

‘Blood,’ said Skipjack.

 

‘Eye balls,’ said Samboli pulling on his soft cap.

 

‘You know, the usual kind of stuff,’ said Skipjack slapping his cap against his leg before putting it on.

 

Outside of The Pain and Pleasure, Avarga and Narvus saw the Kinebrach bouncer watching an orange coloured Tarellian hacking a human to death. Another human already lay dead on the pavement, his intestines strewn about in a bloody mess. A couple of other humans were crashing into food vendors, or other pedestrians in their attempt to flee.

 

‘What is going on?’ asked Avarga.

 

‘Hooman junkees try to murder Tarellian. So Tarellian hez kilt dem,’ said the Kinebrach pointing with a large green hand.

 

‘Hmm,’ said Narvus, but then turning to Avarga said, ‘You wished to speak to me?’

 

‘Your earlier faith in me was unfounded brother sergeant.’

 

‘How so shas’nvre?’ asked Narvus looking down at the firewarrior.

 

‘I lost my self-control and over reacted with Pendergaste and his crew. Discernment would have led me to recognise their words and actions as those of ignorant children. Children who were also under the influence of intoxicants. Discretion would have permitted me to let their comments slide. And compassion would have led me to understand their predicament, and so not overreact. This was not the Tau’va.’

 

‘Even for Astartes, there are times when honour dictates action.’

 

‘I did my utmost to cause injury,’ replied Avarga.

 

‘You maimed but did not kill. This is significant.’

 

‘But was it honourable brother sergeant?’

 

‘Hmm,’ said Narvus looking away. He did not speak for a time, but then said, ‘Those humans insulted your ancestors and their teachings. And in doing so, they insulted the tau’faan of the Enclaves. Honour dictated that they should die.’ Then looking at Avarga he said, ‘That you stayed your hand was compassion enough for them.’

 

Avarga bowed deeply to Narvus, and the space marine bowed his head in return.

 

He recovered from his bow to see Narvus pointing behind him. Turning around, Avarga saw the band of Kroot Hunters standing there patiently. A husky aroma of spice and musk permeated the air around them; which the firewarrior knew was their way of showing approval. Their leader leaned down and placed his long blue arm alongside Avarga’s blue hand saying, ‘The hue is an almost perfect match don’t you think shas’nvre?’

 

‘Indeed it is,’ he said bowing to them. ‘Reka Hunt Leader Vulyk to you and your kindred.’

 

‘Nunco to you Shas’Nvre’Vior’los Avarga Kunas Sum’saro Kisun’xarok,’ replied Vulyk; while he and his band all rattled their quills in approval. Then bowing he said, ‘We shall see you later back on the Star of Damocles shas’nvre.’

 

‘Good evening then, Hunt Leader Vulyk.’

 

‘Did they do that to honour you?’ asked Narvus as he watched the Kroot move away.

 

‘Change their colour? Yes, they did.’

 

Then both of them turned their heads when they heard the master chief shout, ‘Damn Vulvk, I didn’t even know you and your team were here? Glad you were there to back us up!’

 

‘Fate had led us to the same hunting ground master chief. And we were pleased to watch Chief Avarga’s prowess in battle!’ replied the Kroot opening his arms wide and clacking his beak.

 

Samboli and Skipjack exited The Pain and Pleasure, followed by the two Aeldari Rangers seen earlier with the master chief at the bar. Avarga waved them over saying, ‘Elbryn, we never even knew you were in the building?’

 

‘My dear Avarga that was intentional. You were never suppose to know we were there,’ said the golden haired Pathfinder. Then laughing he said, ‘We knew that this was your first time at Úundrek Lú’jiv, and we wanted to see what trouble the blue séjen-éka would get himself into!’

 

‘We slipped in right behind you, but none of you ever noticed,’ said Lenbala the dark haired Ranger; but then she produced the long lacquered hair pin that Avarga had left on the table. And taking the firewarrior by the collar, she wove the hairpin in and out of the flap of his left breast pocket. Patting down the pocket to secure the hairpin, she said, ‘Shas’Nvre Avarga, one never turns down a favour given to them by an Alderi woman, be she Drukhari or otherwise. And had you just left Vúlvai’s hairpin on the table, the next time you visited Úundrek Lú’jiv, she would have in all likelihood poisoned you.’

 

‘Reka,’ answered the firewarrior bowing to her wide eyed.

 

‘Well mates where to now?’ asked Master Chief Fulcrum stepping up to the group.

 

‘Are Vulyk and his Kroot coming with us?’ asked Samboli.

 

‘Nah, they’re heading back to the ship, or least I think they are?’ he replied.

 

‘If y’all want to keep drinking we can head back to the Cantina de Felix? The cerveza is good; and if any y’all haven’t eaten, they got the best damn carne asada tacos. And tamales too!’ said Skipjack. ‘So, what are we all doing then?’

 

‘Your victory, your choice Chief Avarga?’ said Fulcrum.

 

‘Xmm…I could drink some more, but I have also never eaten tacos. Tacos then?’ answered the firewarrior.

 

‘Then Cantina de Felix it is!’ said Skipjack with a wink.

 

FINI

 

Edited August 23, 2020 by Suspicious Blue Mind