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Fuck That! I'm Going To Be A Rogue Trader Instead!: Chapter 10
🕑 Added 2026-01-12 14:34:06 +0000 UTCThe Iron Rings of Janus IV
Janus VI was a harsh world, one whose atmosphere was choked by smog while its surface was pitted with vast mines and scarred by industry. With sprawling factories spewing toxic fumes and sending plumes of fire into the toxic soup that is its atmosphere, the planet was a hellscape; An antithesis to life itself. Yet for all its ugliness, Octavian couldn't turn his eyes away from the sight before him.
"You know, I really should hate this," He mused out loudly as he stepped inside the busy bridge with Orianne in tow. What stood before him was a world being hollowed out and consumed. "But there's something about Forge Worlds that draws me into them."
It was more than just the awe inspiring power of heavy machinery, but the will of man made manifest. This wasn't merely humanity's drive to consume and grow, but to change the world and shape it. This was industry, and humanities drive to create made manifest.
Now, the Enterprise would join this intricate dance with the reservation he had made for a berth, but not before she had a dance of her own. She had to weave through a parade of badly damaged imperial ships. Thankfully, through Amelia's stern command and the steel nerves of their helmsman, they managed to dock on the iron ring of Janus IV.
They were late by a day, but it shouldn't be of consequence. It wasn't the first time he encountered this particular quirk of the Warp, having traveled extensively with his father in his youth. He trusted the dock authorities well enough to give them some leeway at least.
While their ship is being processed by the port authorities giving him plenty of time to talk to his captain. "How about you Amelia? What do you think?" He asked as he turned to his captain as her eyes came back into focus
Perhaps it would have been better if he had announced his presence as the woman all but shot up from her throne. "M-my Lord!" Amelia yelped, nearly tripping over the miles of wires attached to her as she yelled out, "Attention on deck!" Immediately, people stood up, saluting him as well as congratulating for his speedy recovery.
Gesturing for everyone to sit down, he chuckled wryly. "Come on Amelia, loosen up a bit." He already felt uncomfortable seeing the cable linking her ship tugging taut from her stiff salute. "There's no need for formalities amongst close friends."
Besides, he already had a lifetime's worth of formality in the castle. He'd rather she be comfortable than do unnecessary formalities away from the public eye.
Nodding stiffly, she slowly sat back down, easing herself back into her seat as the cables slid back in place. "I-If you say so my lord," She replied while shifting uneasily in her.
"Still, it doesn't seem proper-!" She added before seizing up, letting out a keening cry, as Orianne reached up from behind the throne.
"Oh you can always call my beloved your lordship, Amelia," Orianne purred as she started scratching her behind her ears, making the woman seize up, "But we'd prefer it behind it behind closed doors.~"
"S-stop this at once!" Cried the felinid as her tail stood straight while her face turned cherry red, "I am not some m-mere house pet for you to toy with~!"
"You say so, but your body says otherwise my dear Amelia.~" Orianne chuckled before ducking as the felinid's fist went flying.
With his knight hiding behind him, he let out a sigh as a wry smile stretched across his lips. "Damn you infernal petting," Amelia panted as she sat, hunched over in her throne.
"Just let her have this," Octavian replied with an apologetic smile as kept out of this, letting the two sort it out. "Best she burns off this energy now rather than later." Trying to stop her often led to her doubling down and he didn't have the energy to wrangle with her as he did before. Orianne would eventually find out as she stalked once more.
With their eyes locked, and Amelia's ears flattened, they stared each other down before Orianne made her move. Springing into action, the knight leapt for the immobilized captain, only for her to yelp out as the older woman grabbed her mid leap.
Handling her like some unruly kit, Amelia man handled the girl, wrestling her till she had the confused Knight on her lap. Octavian was about to step in to retrieve his bride, but paused as Amelia pulled out a brush and started grooming the Knight.
This would prove strangely effective as the girl slowly settled down and loosened up in the captain's lap; a complete reversal of the earlier interaction. Not that he complained as it was an amusing sight.
"I've handled my fair share of sailors in my time under Lord Scipio, but I swear she's rowdier than the rest of them combined," Amelia huffed, swatting Orianne's hand as she tried to cop a feel before she continued brushing the girls golden locks, "She's far more handsy as well."
Pouting, his lady wife muttered as she nursed her hand, "Why must you be so chaste, my dear lady when I was merely admiring your lithe form."
"Do you want me to stop?" Amelia warmed as she paused her brushing briefly, making the knight stiffen in her lap. Staring longingly at the brush, her shoulder sagged.
"... No ma'am," Orianne sighed as the fight left her; A first in his eyes.
Noticing his stare, Amelia smiled back smugly before petting his wife, "Good girl."
He'd let her have this. "You think you won, but you've only doomed yourself," Thought to himself as a small smile graced his lips. At first, it would only be something so innocent as brushing her hair or giving her a comforting pat, but before long, she'd be a fixture in one's life.
At this rate, Orianne would never leave her alone. Soon, his knight would have her wrapped around his fingers because the blonde would do everything in her power to charm her all for that precious attention.
"That's how she got me after all," He chuckled to himself before walking over and leaning against the side of her throne. "Still, maybe Orianne is right," He thought to himself as his gaze settled on the felinid's ears twitching playful. "She is cute…"
Shaking his head, he asked, "Speaking of something rowdy, how's the Enterprise treating you? I hope she hasn't caused you any trouble on our journey."
For all her vaunted stories as his family's prized vessel, she was old. She hadn't had a fight in ages and this was the first time she left the Seven Stars. Amelia, however, merely raised a brow at him. "Trouble, my Lord?" She asked, "Surely you jest."
"I haven't seen a ship move like her and respond just as easily," She claimed, beaming with pride, "I couldn't have asked for a better ship."Sighing longingly, her eyes strayed to the gilded murals left by his ancestors, of battles long since forgotten from living memory and relegated to the pages of tomes.
Still," She trailed off as she gave Orianne a pat before pocketing her comb, "She does have her particular quirks." Unlatching herself from the tangle of cables, she stretched and worked out the kinks in her back.
He had to look away lest his eyes stray too far with the way her suit clung to her form, something which Orianne didn't miss as she flashed him a knowing smirk. "Keep things decent in public," He warned as he shot a glare back at the smug knight before turning back to his captain.
"Her engines are having trouble burning hotter while her instruments are rusty," She noted as her brow furrowed, marring her delicate features, "She is in need of a proper refit if you wish to send her to a fight."
"Good thing that we made this our first stop then," He nodded, "Emperor knows what could have happened if we somehow stumbled upon some corsairs." He could already see guns failing and the anemic engine struggling to keep up to the far more nimble craft of the Drukhari. It would have been a disaster.
Thankfully, aside from the turbulent Warp, they arrived unharassed. "Don't worry my lord," His Captain reassured him, "Once the Enterprise gets refitted in the Iron Rings of Janus VI, we could hunt down those vile wretches with impunity!"
"But not before we break our morning fast!" Oriane piped up, earning a chuckle from both him and Amelia.
"And yes, not before we have breakfast," The felinid captain rolled her eyes as she urged the young woman off his lap. With her arms sliding around the smaller girl's hips as she got up, she asked, "So my lord, care to join both ladies for a meal?"
He would be a fool not too as he took their hand and led them out of the bridge.
-x-x-x-
After a few hours, and a hearty meal with Amelia and Orianne that saw much teasing and barbs thrown at the table, they were finally cleared by the Port Authority. They could finally enter the port and explore it to their heart's content.
With book in hand, he followed Amelia and the rest of his entourage as they made their way to meet with the Portmaster. "It definitely reeks," He noted as his lung took in the metallic and oily scent in the air while he flipped through the journals of his ancestors, a treasure he had picked up while searching for clothes to wear.
Feeling it beneath his touch, he marveled at the worn grox leather cover and the polished bone corner pieces. It was small, unassuming even in his arms, being no more bigger than his palm, but in its pages were the writings of his ancestor.
If it wasn't for his ancestors' particular hand writing, something which he could only describe as frantic chicken scratches, he would have thought it was a mere forgery. Only his ancestors, and himself, could write so horribly.
Despite this boon, he was somewhat mystified. He didn't even know he had it in his collection until he stumbled upon it. Has it always been in his collection? Tried as he might to remember if it was his own acquisition, or a gift of his late father, he came out blank.
He wasn't complaining though as it was a gold mine for information. Still, he might have to ask his Butler, Marley, if he knew anything about it. Closing the book and tucking in under his arms, he turned to the man, "Are you sure our Navigator doesn't want to join us?"
He had sent her an invitation partly out of courtesy and partly out of a desire to know her better. She was an important part of his crew after all, serving as his ship's eyes in the ever turbulent warp, and he'd rather have said eyes be his friend.
The sour expression on the man's face, however, didn't give him much confidence on that front. "Yes my lord, but she objected rather… violently," The portly man grimaced, "and she used some rather strong language at that." Shuddering, he said, "Best we leave her alone."
"I'll… just bring her some souvenirs then," He nodded, heeding his trusted stewards advice. It wasn't exactly the wisest idea to a Navigator especially when they could render him mad, or even dead if she so chose, with the mere gaze of her third eye.
"But before that, let's get our ship some much needed love," He said out loud as he looked around before smiling as he found the imposing figure of the Portmaster looming over the sea of red robes, "Speaking off."
With their towering stature, bent over by the various augments they have taken, and their cog like axe showing their station, they were hard to miss. Now to talk to them so he could have some time to explore the iron rings. "Greetings Magus, I-"
"Yes, yes, we know you need your ship fixed, and we know you're important," The magos, grating feminine voice rattled out from their vox, "But the shipyards of Janus IV's busy as of the moment."
"Yes I know, but I have-!" He replied, only to have her cut him off once more as she eyed like how one would eye an unsightly distraction, one with disdain and barely held rage that called for violence.
"If you wish to get your vessel fixed, please fill up the proper forms before sending them through the appropriate channels, thank you," She gritted out in a false, sickly sweet patronizing tone, before shooing him away.
Eyes narrowed, he grimaced. "So it's going to be one of those days huh?" He would have rather avoided this all together, but she wasn't giving him much choice.
Slowly, he reached up for his throat, massaging to get them to relax before pressing upon a hard lump just beside his voice box. "+Esteemed Magos, I have already gone through the official channels and paid in advance all under the House of Germanicus,+" He gritted out with the harsh, grating speech of the Martian Priesthood, "+Here's the receipt.+"
Without missing a beat, he gestured for his Butler who promptly pulled out a data slate as he stepped forward, holding it over to the startled priestess. It was painful to say the least, to both his ears and his throat, given the harsh static screech he had to make, but it gave the woman pause.
Slowly, the woman's frown deepened before she turned as she glared at him with those many baleful red eyes of hers. "+You're Gaius Octavius of House Germanicus?+" The woman asked as she gave him a once over with one of her scanning augments.
"+Yes, I am,+" He replied as he schooled his features and gazed back at her. As unnerving to have the woman's full attention especially with the sound of her spider-like legs skittering across the metal floors echoing out like the clawed fingers of a giant, she wasn't going to lash out for mere insult.
She was a Magos. To react emotionally was to go against the Logic of the Omnissiah. She had to play by the rules, something both of them were versed with as he saw cold malice glinting behind those beady red eyes.
"+Why are you late?+" She asked pointedly, throwing the first jab.
"+It was from an unforeseen consequence to the warp, nothing more,+" He replied, dodging the question. Yes, he was late, but so what?
The Magos, however, was persistent with her assault. "+You were slated for Drydock 9A yesterday, but you only arrived today,+" She pointed out, making him brow furrow.
"+Surely a delay of a single night could be forgiven, esteemed Magos,+" He reasoned and it wasn't even an unreasonable excuse. "+It would be ludicrous to expect us to arrive at the exact date the tides of the warp are an ever shifting enigma, something which even the best of Navigators have difficulty traversing through.+"
As the woman frowned, he let out a small smile. The Warp truly was the best answer to being late. His celebration, however, was short lived as the woman's features slowly lit up with a playful, almost cat-like expression.
"So that is why you account for unforeseen delays," She lectured him as she shifted back to Low Gothic with a smug, condescending tone, "And as you can, the ships of the Navis Imperialis were already here despite their refitting scheduled years in advance."
Following her gaze, he found his mood growing sour as he was reminded of the procession of warships they had to get through. With their vast number floating overhead, it was clear there were enough of them to fill every last slot in the Iron Ring. No more, no less.
This was exactly the kind of scenario he wanted to avoid. He even had made reservations in advance, but a certain someone pushed the Imperial Navy's ship ahead of him. Whether it was a distaste for Rogue Traders or her attitude to her job, it didn't matter as now she was making his life harder.
"Should I report to the Lord Captains of these fine ships that they are to be moved back in line after I already gave them my word?" The woman replied with a cruel tilt to her voice. He had to do something about her.
Eyes narrowed, he reasoned, "Then it should be no problem if they were to continue ahead, while we take their place.
Turning back to him, the woman opened her mouth, but he cut her off. "It doesn't seem all too reasonable to have everyone move, especially as it would probably take months before the next ship arrives."
While it was easy to push someone ahead of the line, she can't move it when they're not here. "Are they already here?" He questioned.
There were definitely more behind his ship and the ship that replaced him, but they weren't here as he had a good bet that it was a Navis Imperialis fleet getting repairs. If the Navis Imperialis were taking these spots, they wouldn't send a whole fleet.
They would send batches to fill up every spot before sending out the next batch as having an entire fleet parked in the harbor meant a fleet less out there fighting. This meant that her move opened up a gap in the schedule, something his ship can slip into and indeed, it was the case as the woman's face soured once again.
"Yes but-" She tried to argue but he cut her off as he pushed on, using her own logic against hers.
"Clearly you are flexible enough to rush through a refit or repair of the ship as they were already here, so why not give us that treatment?" He argued, making her pause as she hesitated on her next words.
It was not the result he wanted, but it was preferable over her playing with them. Before she could recover, he smiled, "Unless… you wish us to refund our initial down payment. Surely it would be faster to just slot our ship in rather than process all that paper work."
For as much as her kind thrived on red tape, having turned against them was the most cruel of irony. Paper work was still work, and he had doubts he'd call his bluff as he heard the lower binary muttering under her breath.
Still, she wasn't quite done yet. "We can reschedule, but not without the Arch Magos himself approval." The desperation and anger was almost palpable, but he didn't let it phase him as she continued, "And even then, it could take months as another ship has already been slated for the berth in question."
"I know," he replied with a sickly sweet smile, something which made the woman bristle even more, "But please just send it through the Arch Magos."
Their battle was now finished. There were no more policies to twist, nor anything else she could throw at him. She had nothing more she could do but nod along. "Noted," She hissed as she sent him one last venomous glare before letting out huff.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to do," She excused herself as she scuttled off with her tail tucked behind her legs."The shipyard of Janus never sleeps and as its Dockmaster, I need to ensure that operation is smooth and without interruption,"
Holding back, he watched as she slunk away until she disappeared into the crowd. He had a feeling that this wasn't the last time he'd see her, but he'd take his victory. "Bitch," He spat as he massaged his aching throat.
There was nothing worse than her kind out in the wild; Those petty tyrants who ruled their tiny fiefdom. In the grand scheme of things, they were inconsequential, but they rankled him like no other. "It's not worth it," He thought to himself as he turned away, only to find Amelia's wide eyed gaze staring back at him
"What? I'm right ain't I?" He asked. Just because he was of noble birth doesn't mean he was going to mince words.
"No, my Lord it's just that you know Binary," She replied, "Only a scarce few outside the priesthood dare learn it and I've never encountered one from the nobility who picked it up."
"The implant was rough at first," he admitted with a light rasp. Even now, his throat hurts just getting the words out. It was a parlor trick at best. "But you wouldn't believe how useful it is to get things across." It was especially effective with Tech Priest who had a superiority complex.
"But aside from that," He cleared his throat before flashing her a grin, "Would you believe I once thought of becoming a Techpriest?"
"You my lord?" She replied incredulously as she raised her brow at him. "I'd say it's a jest it wasn't for the fact that it came from your own lips." It was certainly a leap.
"He really did!" Orianne giggled as he felt her arms wrapping around his neck from behind. "Had a robe and all when I showed him how to work on Rocinante," She recalled, making him smile at the fond memories they had; When everything still felt like a dream and the weariness of the world had yet to weigh on his shoulder.
"But then I realized it wasn't for me," He replied as he handed his ancestors journal to his steward before his arms around her thighs. Grunting at the feeling of her weight, he grinned up to the rosy cheek knight, he teased, "Somebody's been raiding the pantry far too many times."
That earned him a scuff on the back of the head, but it was well worth it as he let out a hearty laugh. The knowledge kept by the cult of the Iron Priesthood, but it was nothing compared to the precious treasure he held so dearly close to his heart.
Shaking his head, he turned back to find the amused smile of his Captain staring back at him. "I can see why you turned away from the worship of the Omnissiah " She replied as her tail swished playfully behind her.
"Is it because it'd be a waste to have all these replaced with metal?" He teased back as he walked over behind her and leaned in close, letting his breath tickle the fur.
Shivering, she grinned widely before pushing him away. "Perhaps, but it's more that you have far too much heart, my lord," She answered as she skipped away just out of reach. "You'd stick out like nail amongst them and they do love to hammer those back to their place,"
"If anyone needs a good hammering, it'd be her," Orianne piped up, making both of them pause. Fuming, the girl angrily waved to the direction where she left. "I swear, I've known stones that bore kinder countenance than withered old hag!"
This had Amelia laughing while he chuckled softly. "Indeed," The felinid captain sighed out before her expression fell. "Speaking of the Dockmaster, I fear she'd bury our request under a pile of paper work."
Given the look she gave him, he'd be surprised if he didn't do anything after the fact. These petty tyrants often were those with the most fragile of egos. "Here I thought you'd only find their likes amongst the Administratum," Amelia muttered darkly.
There was simply no way to reason with her now that he had insulted her so gravely. "That's why I'm not even going to bother with her," He smiled as he trotted off with his wife in tow. Why bother with her anyways?
"But my lord," Amelia replied as she jogged after them along with the rest of his retinue. "Surely letting her be without challenging us would do us more harm than to confront her directly?" She reasoned as his guards made a path for them.
"That is true," He nodded before a playful grin stretched across his lips, "But who said I wasn't going to deal with her?"
Snapping his finger, he gestured for one of the assistants of his trusty steward. "I need you to draft a letter addressed to the Arch Magos before sending it to Marley so he could affix my seam," He replied. Why bother with the middle man when his station could afford him to talk to the Arch Magos himself?
"I'll see to it my lord," The servant replied as she typed away. While she busied herself, he turned to his Loyal Guard Captain turned Master at Arms,
"I need you to keep watch of the ship," He ordered. This would definitely piss off a few Magos as they would see this as them impeding on their work, but it was necessary. "I don't want any surprises."
"A direct letter to the Arch Magos would certainly help us avoid her," Amelia mused as she kept pace with him.
"But it would take some time," He noted.. Even a direct letter to the Magos wasn't a guarantee as well. "So best we spend it somewhere worthwhile!" He added as he gestured for his Steward to open up the book. "Now let's see where that elevator is…"
Staring back flatly at him, Amelia replied, "I do hope you're not suggesting we go down to the planet to explore the sights and scenery or lack there off.
"Oh no, nothing of that sort," He laughed, even as tempting as it was just to see how bad things were down below. It was nothing more than a curiosity, something he would dare pursue despite his fascination. That way lies madness and a healthy dose of cancer.
Besides, he had someplace else better in mind. "In fact, it's somewhere around this hub block if my ancestor's journal is accurate!" He cheered, making Amelia look at him with intrigue.
"Oh?" She questioned as he followed her through winding streets and through tunnels, leading deeper inside the labyrinthian bowels of the Iron Ring.
"It's a place of ill repute," He described as the Tech Priest thinned out, leaving no one but servitors and the few odd Servo Skulls. "An old haunt which my ancestor frequented to keep in touch with friends and to mess with those new to the trade."
It was a bar that his ancestors spoke so fondly in the end of her days, the one stop which an old retired Rogue Trader used to frequent after she had achieved everything she could have ever dreamed of. "We're heading to the World's End!"
A/N:
This took me an embarrassingly long time. At this rate, I might have to split votes to one big story and one small story just so I could at least keep myself consistent. Hopefully, things get better but I'm not sure with my Job...
There are some good news though. I have the dialogue of next chapter lined up so I could pick it up. Also, I'm still gunning for one Profiteering chapter. I'm really sorry for the delay.
