The airlock portal swung open, acrid gases venting from corroded grilles with an angry hiss. Lucian stepped through, and set foot upon the Mundus Chasmata orbital primary. The hall ran the length of the docking limb, airlocks identical to that he had just exited situated at regular points along its length. The occasional longshoreman went about his business, but where Lucian would expect to be confronted with heaving crowds of dockers, an eerie quiet was all he found.

The deck below his feet was rusted and uneven, and heavy chains dripping with toxic run-off swung, unused, from the high, vaulted ceiling. His footsteps echoed the length of the hall, and the lighting flickered erratically. The stink of sewage and pollution assaulted him. He had smelled worse, he reflected, but not outside of the grave-mires of Quillik V.

A high-pressure hiss and a tortured, metallic squeal sounded from the far end of the hall. As banks of gases cleared, Lucian caught sight of him. Although outwardly his father's son, Korvane carried himself entirely differently, his mannerisms those of his mother's people: studied and reserved, haughty and cold.

'Father. Korvane bowed stiffly at Lucian's approach. 'I greet you with glad heart.

Ignoring the formality of Korvane's greeting, Lucian embraced his son in a vigorous bear hug, causing the younger man to stumble as his feet were lifted from the deck. He had not set eyes upon either of his children in long months.

'Glad heart indeed. Are you well?

'I am well, Father. I spent the bulk of the last leg studying the archives. Chasmata's ruling class has a fascinating range of ceremonies. We would do well to remain on our guard around these people'

'Huh. Lucian grunted. 'You're new to this business son, so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. I've engaged in talks with men and with abominations, and there's only two ways of dealing with either. You take control of proceedings, blustering your way through as if it's all second nature, or, you keep your eyes open and your mouth shut until the moment comes to take control. How do you think your grandfather got past the Cambro Huthans? How do think old Abad sidestepped the Argent Protocol, or the Hyburian Interdiction?

Korvane nodded, though he looked far from convinced.

'That's how business gets done out here son, and don't you forget it' Lucian turned as he heard a second airlock vent its noxious gases into the hall. A figure emerged out of the clouds.

Where Korvane outwardly resembled his father, but mirrored his mother in comportment, Lucian's daughter Brielle was the exact opposite. Although not tall, Brielle carried herself with a confidence bordering on aggression. Her features were brooding and dusky, and she wore her black and purple-dyed hair in the complex braids of her mother's people: the highborn clans of the feral world of Chogoris. Her features were her mother's, but Bridle's manners were akin to Lucian's, for she radiated the same air of professionalism that a rogue trader depended upon to prosper in their hostile world.

However much Lucian loved his daughter, a gulf existed between them. The elder of his offspring, Brielle had been raised to assume the leadership of the Arcadius Dynasty one day. Yet, with times so hard, Lucian had entered into his marriage of convenience with Korvane's mother. It was a business deal, one he had entered as he would any other transaction. Korvane's mother gained the status that marriage into a rogue trader dynasty afforded, and the Arcadius, through Korvane, would, upon her passing come into a substantial inheritance and thus secure their future.

Although the Arcadius would ultimately be saved from slow extinction, Brielle had been robbed of her claim to the leadership of the dynasty. The terms of the marriage demanded that the first male child of the union would inherit both his mother and father's titles, and so Brielle had been passed over in favour of her stepbrother. The two barely spoke, and when they did, it was inevitably in words of remonstration. When angered, Brielle had the temper of her mother's people as well as their looks, and combined with Lucian's directness, tension between the siblings bubbled constantly below the surface.

'Brielle, I'm so glad to see you. Lucian said. She responded by placing a cold kiss upon his cheek, but showed no sign of familial affection.

Realising that he would get little more from his daughter, Lucian determined to continue regardless. He had a dynasty to save, and no amount of childish sibling petulance would stand in his way.

But before the trio set off for the surface, Lucian intended to pay a visit to the harbour master. Someone would answer for the attack on his vessels, in the supposedly secure inner reaches of an Imperial system.

'What on Sacred Terra do you mean "outside your purview"?

Lucian, flanked by his offspring, dominated the cramped office of the harbour master of the Mundus Chasmata Orbital — the space station through which all traffic to and from the world's surface had to pass. He loomed over the adept's wide desk, sweeping aside rolled parchments and toppling a stack of cargo manifests. They had arrived unannounced, Lucian pushing his way contemptuously past the attendant who had attempted to inform him that the master would not be receiving callers for another three years at best. If he wanted to expedite the process, the functionary had spluttered, Lucian would need to complete an Application of Extraordinary Exception, in triplicate.

Lucian had insisted, quite forcibly, that the lackey contact his superiors on the surface, before confronting the harbour master himself.

'Our system monitor boat is currently, er, out of system. That you recklessly drew your attacker onto the defence platform's guns is not my responsibility. That platform has not been required to fire its weapons in three centuries, sir. The expended ordnance will be replenished at your expense.

'Wait a moment' Lucian was losing patience with the harbour master. 'That my ships were attacked in your system is not your fault, because your system defence boat was not present, defending its system? If I understand correctly, you expect recompense for the shells fired by your system defence platform? Shells fired whilst performing its sacred duty of defending its system?

'Sir, I suggest you familiarise yourself with the terms of the Pax Chasmatus, chapter seventy-nine, verse one hundred and thirty-

'Emperor's balls! I've heard eldar make more sense than you! Give me clearance to make planetfall before I do something you might regret.

'I'm afraid, sir, that I cannot do that. As I said, it is outside my purview. The dictates of the Pax Chasmatus state that you must await the next shuttle. You may not travel to the surface in your own vehicle'

Suspecting he would not care for the answer, Lucian asked, 'And when is the next shuttle scheduled to arrive?

'Three months from now. The waiting chamber is located on level Gamma Twelve, Sector Nine, past the containment chambers, on the left'

Lucian's right hand moved to the holster at his left hip, that holding the, non-lethal, neural disruptor. He thought better of the act, however. His hand moved instead to the, highly lethal, plasma pistol held in the holster at his right hip. Before his hand reached the holster, a metallic chime sounded from a brass grille set into the harbour master's desk.

Cautiously, the man reached across to open the channel. 'Adept Telsi? He cleared his throat with a nervous cough. 'Go ahead'

A tinny voice squawked from the grille. It was the harbour master's functionary, and he had received a reply from the message Lucian had insisted he deliver. The hint of a smile appeared at the edge of his mouth.