My Little Rogue Trader: Maretime Sector

The Enforcer Aegis Station was not currently under attack.

But by all the hollering and the sounds of boots clapping on rockrete, it might as well have been. Enforcers, both off and on duty, bore weapons and wore armor befitting their tasks of defending the station and the people of Maretime. Even as a crowd of Enforcers rushed to the castle-like battlements with their lasguns and their rifles, crowds of civilians also made their way into the defensive bastion. They were a frightened, scared bunch, easily ushered into prepared shelters. Sunny knew these shelters were more than just safe havens; they were rallying points where civilians might be called upon to defend themselves and the Hive. Hastily girded with weapons and armor; just as she was.

Sunny Starscout, following the Enforcers Zipp Storm and Hitch Trailblazer, raced with their weapons out of the safety of the Bastion Station. Following them were the newly-minted Penal Troopers Tabby Baker, Casey Heartthrob, and Touchdown, their maximum compliance collars threatening their survival if they didn’t keep up.

It was all happening so fast. Sunny’s mind felt like a fire engine on fire. She breathed hard, and tried to focus by thinking of their objective; to retrieve an Imperium Intelligence team. Three humans—one of them a psyker—and there was also an Eldar and a Squat. Something about this caused an itch in Sunny’s brain, like something she forgot was screaming reminders at her. She she followed Zipp and Hitch into the cobbled streets.

Brick. Jettying buildings rose tall here, the streets winding in an organic pattern. Sunny’s nose and eyes were assaulted with invitations to come and try, come and see, come and eat good food, and enjoy good company. Sunny saw bakeries, diners, cafes, restaurants, and more. Had she been calmer, and not thrust into this waking nightmare, she would’ve been tempted. She would never have trusted herself to navigate these streets; she thanked the Solarch for Zipp and Hitch.

“Hey! What’s the goddamn rush!?” shouted Touchdown. “Enemy ain’t here yet! Let’s not burn all our energy just yet, huh!”

All the while, the defense guns overhead were still firing, kilometers above them. More civilians were rushing to and fro, those who didn’t rush to the Enforcer stations were barricading their shops and homes. They lowered armored security doors. They wore their own protective garb and brandished their weapons, most of them makeshift. Sunny didn’t fancy hitting something like a daemon with a frying pan. And yet, the squad still charged on.

Another of the troopers chose to voice a complaint, and this time, it was Casey. “Why are we chasing after these Imperium Intelligence Agents, anyway? Can’t they handle themselves?”

“Well,” Zipp called back, “We’re going to need all the help we can get!”

To that, Casey grumbled with a low rumble, “Shouldn’t even have gotten out of that cell.”

Laughing, Baker remarked, “Adventure, Casey! Won’t get it lying down waiting for it!”

Meanwhile, all the hot food and snacks they were racing past made Sunny feel hungry. She frowned; she should’ve been feeling hungrier. Sunny guessed a warp storm and imminent alien invasion would make one forget. She huffed in frustration; why couldn’t the warpstorm just have waited for an hour or something?!

Finally, Sunny spoke up, shouting, “Where’s the team, anyway?”

The group rounded a corner and kept at the advance. Hitch reported, “We’ll find them at the Portly Carcharodon!”

Sunny blinked. It must be... some sort of franchise, then. They may be a bit slow in getting you what you paid for, but it was always worth the wait. So she knew what she was looking for. However, these winding streets prevented her from seeing past any one building, and Sunny found herself questioning the utility of such a street plan. Another corner, another ramp, another set of stairs that rose or fell, and another crowd of zealous firebrands. Wait, what?

With a double take that lasted only a second, Sunny could see a few priests leading an angry mob, growing as a chanting took hold. Their words crawled up Sunny’s spine and shivered her skull. Before she could reflect more on the words that made up the chant, the ancient machine spirit of the city spoke up anew, the words rattling the very cobblestones beneath Sunny’s hooves.

“Attention: The Lord of Hassia will speak. Hark ye well.”

A pause. Then, that old voice. All souls stood still, even if the guns above still fired. All ears and heads swiveled to hear. It was pained, almost manic.

“The enemy advances! They have already attempted to take the palace. They have failed.”

The Palace on the edge of Hassia Prime was attacked? As Sunny thought about nightmares descending on that island... it does make a certain amount of sense. They would go for the decapitation... but they failed!

“The Warp unleashes the Crusade of Ending. They know the Emperor and His Sons come for their pathetic gods! Stand, my sons and daughters! Rise, my family! Their final failure is at hand!”

A roar rose from the throats of the angry crowds, and Sunny couldn’t help but share their near-riotous spirit. But a riot directed at a crowd of daemons? Sunny didn’t know who to feel bad for. From somewhere in an adjacent street, Sunny could hear a new voice, one amplified by a loudhailer. It had to be one of the priests, from the wrathful tone and serious words that followed.

“Fuel the Light of Hope! Defend the Imperium!”

Sunny felt her guts tighten. Her ears almost burned with the intensity of the battle cry now being taken up by Maretime Sector. Slowly, the chant was growing, louder, and louder. It pressed into Sunny’s skull like the marching of a thousand feet. The Squad was moving again, and Sunny was following, growing numb as her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. First, it seemed that the worst thing that Sunny could hear today was the scream of the warp as it came for her soul, the many hands and claws of daemonic presences threatening her mortal soul. Now, she wasn’t sure anymore, as the contagious fervor on display threatened to light her own heart up.

Maybe she should let it.

“Fuel the Light of Hope! Defend the Imperium!!”

Blessedly, the Portly Carcharodon was finally in sight, and the chanting had grown more distant with the relentless run of the ad-hoc Enforcer squad. Sunny didn’t know how much more she could take. The building itself had managed to separate itself from the others with an avatar of a toothy sea monster, very much drunk off the barrel of amasec that it was holding with front flippers.

Finally, The Intelligence team should be around here somewhere.

“Inside!” Ordered Zipp. Sunny and the others didn’t need to be told twice.

“Maybe we’ll get something to wet our whistles, huh?” Teased Tabby. A groan from Casey. A giggle from Touchdown. Zipp and Hitch ignored them both and raced up to the entrance, followed by Sunny and the Convicts. Wait, they weren’t convicts, because they weren’t convicted of anything. They were only just arrested, and made into Penal troopers. Sunny’s ears drooped in slight empathy for their situation, even if she was somewhat stuck in this position because of them.

Hitch opened the door, and everybody ran in.

Inside the tavern was a similar state of disorder. Tables and chairs were pressed against windows, the bar itself was undergoing ad-hoc fortifications by the proprietors, and there was an argument in progress between the head agent and the owner of the bar, by the way they were trying to stare the other down.

The pony, a mare with gray hair and green fur, screamed, “Enforcers! At last! Kindly explain to this man that us normal folk can’t be expected to turn this place into a firebase! We need to hunker down and let the storm pass over us!”

Immediately, Sunny could see a man, previously arguing with the mare, turn to regard Sunny and the others. He was brandishing a broad-faced warhammer in one hand and a large-bore revolver in the other. He wore a tall capotain hat, decorated with purity seals and a sinister brim, and a long coat over a shining breastplate. At his side, Sunny could see a thick, hide-bound book, decorated with a twin-tailed comet.

His breastplate was adorned with iconography that Sunny didn’t quite recognize. It was a single-headed bird and a stylized cross. The breastplate also had a bandolier of revolver pistols holstered in it. He also wore a silvery set of plated armor on his shoulders, his arms, and his legs, which he wore over the coat as well as the trousers which he wore.

Finally, Sunny paused to see him with pointed sabatons over tall boots. With a pompous voice, slightly nasally and Imperius, the man said, “Enforcers? What business do you have here?” By his attitude and look, he had to be one of Imperium Intelligence’s Supernatural Affairs Officers. The thing that stood out the most to Sunny was the fact that one of the man’s striking blue eyes was clouded over with a grayed out-look, a testament to an injury.

It was Zipp’s turn to speak, breathily, “We’re here for you guys! The Sheriff of Maretime wants you at the Enforcer’s Bastion!”

Another voice let himself be known, with a tired baritone, somewhat muffled by a helmet, “This Bastion, uh... sounds like a better bet than a bar, sir.” Sunny turned her head to see the other man of the Imperium Intelligence team, a warrior by his bearing. He wore plate armor and a great helm, covered on the back by a blue and white cloth in an aventail, which hid his face, if not his stature.

He wore armor with a shield motif, which meant a shield-patterned armored shirt of interlocking scales. There was also a jousting shield plate on his right shoulder, displaying a golden grail. He also wore a blue and white tabard underneath the armor and a tactical vest over the armor. More substantial plates of armor were worn on his hands and feet, also in the styling of a heater shield. He carried two straight swords of different lengths and a holo-sighted slung lasgun on his hip. A leather belt and pockets offered this soldier extra power packs and other essentials. A Feudal World Veteran, maybe?

With a thoughtful twitch of his working eye, the Officer finally assented, “Very well. To the Enforcer Bastion. Come along.”

The Enforcer ponies, Deputy Sunny, and the Penal troopers made way for this crowd of bipeds as they marched outside. Following the Officer and the Feudal Veteran was a pair of women, who caused no small amount of ice to grip Sunny’s guts.

The first was... an Eldar! She had to be, because why else would she have pointed ears, black-marble eyes, strange skin on her face, and unusual limb proportions? She met Sunny’s gaze, and they both shuddered. The Eldar wore simple forest-colored robes and carried an exotic, scoped Xeno rifle, which was slung on her back. She also had a pair of leaf-shaped daggers on her belt. The way she carried herself, the loathing for her environment writ upon her face... Sunny could tell she was not happy at all being within the concrete and metal biome of the Hive City. Would she be more comfortable, perhaps, within the simulated forest gardens? Or would that perhaps outrage her, a pretense at nature within this artificial hellscape of arcology?

Then, there was the psyker. Sunny could always tell, everyone could. What else would stand so close and set the hairs on the back of one’s neck on end, even to the point of stirring static electricity? It didn’t help that this slightly elderly human woman wore all-black robes, and had pale skin, only darkening around her glowing blue-green eyes. An Imperial “I” was emblazoned on her robes on the back and her leg panel, differentiated with an eye on the... “I”. A sign of Imperial Psykers. It did little to calm Sunny’s nerves that this one was seemingly sanctioned to use her powers. Unicorns using their magic was one thing, but the source of all psychic powers was hell itself. She carried both a Pyromancer staff and a crowbill pick on her waist. The woman saw Sunny and gave her a smile and a wink.

Trying not to shiver under her sight, Sunny turned her head and prepared herself for something that would surely be even more horrifying than the Eldar or the wi—the Psyker. She recoiled, alright, but not at the sight of a new Imperial-condoned horror. Instead...

Instead, it was an egg... huh? A walking egg? No, it was a suit of armor, made from silvery metal, decorated with fine metals, and inscribed with many runes. It was powered by a backpack fusion core, judging from how the short warrior stomped around as easily as ponies and men would walk. The visage on the front of the rather egg-shaped suit of armor was a bearded warrior, one of the Squats and their legendarily broad beards. The vision slot of the suit looked at Sunny, and the right arm of the suit raised in a wave, a multi-barreled repeating weapon of some kind. The other arm held up a round shield, with gold accents and a strong-looking rim. It had the pattern of an anvil and hammer etched onto the face.

“Lovely day we’re having, ey?”

Sunny couldn’t help but smile. Every Squat--no, it was more polite to say “Stoutfolk”--that Sunny had ever met was jolly and helpful, and extremely good with computers, machines, and other complicated things. They also loved their beards. Drink. Good company. Sunny suddenly remembered one of the short abhumans that worked for the Datacomplex; one Dwale Datawhisper. She hoped that the IT expert was okay...

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll be just fine, my little pony,” said the stout, armored warrior. “After all, the battle is still far away from here.”

“Yeah,” Sunny found herself agreeing. “I was just deputized today.”

The warrior hummed. “I’ll have to show you how to use that gun, friend,” he noted.

Sunny smiled. “I’d like that.”

They were the last to leave the Portly Carcharodon, the doors locking behind them as more furniture was being braced against it.

The streets of the Maretime Restaurant District were emptied. Everyone had either fled or barricaded their buildings. The windows were all barred up; the barricading rollers had been pulled down so that even breaking the windows would not allow ingress. It would take much more than a crowbar to enter. The defense guns above still fired, and all ears could hear the raging warp storm outside. Even through kilometers of plasteel and rockrete, one could hear a howling wind, the sound almost indistinguishable from a tireless scream. Scraps of trash littered some of the streets, flittering to and fro by a gust from one of the giant atmosphere-regulating fans above, embedded into the ceiling.

Sunny, the Enforcer Team and the Imperium Intelligence Team raced back through those streets. Sunny couldn’t help but watch as the stout warrior’s exosuit allowed him to keep pace with everybody else, despite its ridiculous egg-shape and stubby arms and legs. It just goes to show that not everything is as it seems, Sunny thought. It even looks like the gun arm of that exo-armor can swap itself out for a close-quarters weapon, a runic, double-headed ax.

These Imperium Intelligence agents certainly gave off an aura of being dangerous, Sunny thought. Ordinarily, this would probably not be a good thing. Ordinarily, however, the Hive was also not under imminent threat of invasion by demons and aliens. In this case, it does help to calm Sunny’s racing heart.

A heart that still threatened to burst out of her chest. It seemed as though every shadow could contain a daemon that threatened to rip out Sunny’s throat. She needed to keep herself relatively calm, despite the guns sounding and the haunting sound of chanting. Wait, chanting? Sunny’s ears swiveled as they poked out her enforcer deputy’s helmet. Vowels. Repeated statements carried by the Intra-Hive Wind. At first, Sunny reasoned that this must have been the loudhailers pleading with the Imperium Divine for protection and favor in the coming battle. However, as they ran through more streets, Sunny could only make out three words.

“Victoria Aut Mors”. Over and over again. Sunny’s eyes widened as half-remembered High Gothic lessons played over in her mind. This wasn’t an encouraging rallying cry, a statement of strength or defiance.

Victory or Death. This was a statement about finality—an unwavering statement of intent. Either the Church Warbands would earn victory, or they would be forced to accept death.

“Victoria Aut Mors! Victoria Aut Mors!. Victoria Aut Mors!”

Does even half of those voices now chanting this phrase understand its meaning? ...Do they even need to, or do they need something to steel their hearts against the foe to come?

“Hold it!” Came the command from a rough voice. From the back of the group, Sunny could now see a new group of individuals; ones just as heavily armed as the Enforcers and the Agents.

Sunny’s veins froze over to see Neighsara amidst a band of New Haytian Pirates. Most were Zebras, brandishing clubs of their homeworld, but a few others were of other races, even human, each brandishing their own, doubtlessly smuggled weapon at Sunny’s group. Something that did unite them, at least in look, was a shared style of tattooing over their bodies and inscriptions on their arms and what armor a few possessed. The tribal patterns were believed to be wards of protection. Of power. Such a thing was bogus, surely, but these pirates were confident enough that most were here even without their coveralls. To brandish only weaponry and bravado... that sort of confidence made Sunny not want to face them regardless of the seeming disadvantage.

The only one still unarmed was Neighsara, who walked up and said, with that same monotone voice, “An opportune interception. Now, let us dispense with lengthy negotiation and be on our way with our associates.”

Sunny looked to see Tabby Baker, slightly out of breath, chuckle as he walked forward to the front of the crowd. “Now that’s what I like to fuckin’ see,” he remarked. “This is the kind of loyalty you can’t ever buy.”

Neighsara nodded. “Such a valuable crime boss is a rarity. It would be regrettable to lose you.”

It was then that Zipp interceded, placing the barrel of her weapon against the side of Tabby’s head, skewing his hat. In response, the pirates all raised their guns at Sunny’s group. In response, Hitch and the Imperial Intelligence team also raised their weapons. Sunny shook too much and didn’t even move to point her double-barreled weapon. Thankfully, that new friend in the armored egg walked in front of Sunny, and raised his shield. She also saw a pair of servo-arm weapons raise themselves over the shoulders of the Stoutfolk. Sunny could see that Touchdown and Casey were likewise threatened.

Sunny could still see, however, that Nieghsara soundly declined to react to this development. “Come now,” he called with a disarming smile. “Let’s not resort to such measures in this stressful environment.”

“Yeah,” agreed Tabby. “Let’s not.”

With a grim face, Zipp responded, “I’d rather not, either. So here’s what is going to happen. You’re going to let us walk to the Enforcer Aegis Station, and I’ll disable their maximum compliance collars and let you hide in whatever hole you’ve got.”

Impassively, Neighsara responded, “And what is to stop all those gunners at the Bastion from firing on us as soon as we get within range?”

To that, Zipp replied, “And what’s to stop you from gunning us all down if I let these troopers go?”

The defense guns continued to fire overhead. Sunny watched as the Intelligence Officer and the Feudal World Veteran shared a glance. She grimaced at the anticipation writ on the faces of the Eldar and the Psyker. She couldn’t read the emotions of the armored squat warrior in front of her, as he was armored head to toe and facing away from her. It was this warrior that finally spoke up. It was with a loud, accented voice that this squatted ball of star metals helped to voice Sunny’s thoughts.

“This is chuf! We should be fighting together!”

With a growl, Tabby noted, “You’re not the one with a fuckin’ bomb collar around his neck.”

Interjecting, Neighsara spoke, “Please, Baker. Allow me to conduct the negotiations.”

The defense guns continued their ceaseless barrage. The chant of “Victoria Aut Mors” had not abated. Sunny had no idea if they were even hitting anything. Neighsara sighed. Sunny found herself doing likewise. This was a rather stupid standoff. But how would these two find a middle ground? As much as it would tempt fate, Sunny found herself almost wishing something would interrupt this standoff. However, given what’s happened today, she thought better of it.

“What are we waiting for!?” Screamed one of the pirates, his eyes darting to the ceiling. “Let’s just kill ‘em and be done with it!”

Before Neighsara could get a word in edgewise, Zipp pressed her gun harder on Tabby’s skull. He shouted out, “Belay that, asshole! I’ll not have my fuckin’ handsome brains decorate this pavement!”

The air, at last, grew still, as the City’s Machine Spirit spoke again, the deep, resonant tone sounding through ancient speakers, rattling every roof and shaking every bone.

“Proximity Alert: Object of Cataclysmic Proportions Approaching. Classification: Space Hulk. Impact Imminent. Pray for Deliverance.”