The object was heavy and solid, with no obvious function that Lucian could discern. One end appeared to house some form of terminus, though just what type of machine it would interface with was beyond even Lucian. Turning the object over in his hands, Lucian saw that the other end was adorned with some form of script. Lucian's heart missed a beat, yet he remained dispassionate, handing the object back to the contact.
'Luneberg will be pleased' Lucian addressed the figure. 'I am happy to take delivery of these items'
'Archeotech my arse!
The three rogue traders stood at the ramp of Bridle's shuttle, the crates ready to load. Having ascertained the true nature of the items they had taken possession of, Lucian had instructed his children to activate the anti-grav motors in each crate, and had taken leave of Luneberg's contact in as hasty a manner as he could without it appearing so. The three now stood ready to load the crates onto Brielle's shuttle, which was larger than Lucian's or Korvane's.
Brielle laid a hand on a nearby crate, and asked her father: 'What then?
'Whatever's in these crates is not of pre-Imperium manufacture. In fact, I can't believe Luneberg would think these could be anything other than xenos artefacts'
Korvane broke in. 'So he lied?
Brielle replied, 'Or he has no idea'
'More likely. Lucian said, 'he knows far more than he's letting on. He may not be aware of exactly who, or what, he's doing business with, but he knows it goes way beyond the pale of what the Administratum considers acceptable behaviour for an Imperial Commander. That's why he needs us. We're rogue traders. We can go places he cannot, meet contacts he cannot. Do deals he cannot'
'Deals with xenos. Brielle said.
CHAPTER FOUR
Brielle waited until her shuttle had cleared Sigma Q-77's outer atmosphere, before freeing herself from the grav-couch harness. The small cabin was crowded with the alien cargo crates. She crossed to the nearest, perching herself on its edge and running a fingertip along the invisible seam around its top. She had guessed immediately that the so-called 'archeotech' was in fact xenos in origin, in fact, she had had her suspicions the moment Luneberg's contact had appeared. Although her father had not remarked upon it, for his own unknowable reasons, she had immediately taken the tall figure for something other than human. That wasn't to say, however, that it was entirely alien, for humanity was a truly diverse species, with stabilised mutant strains common, particularly far from the Imperium's centres of power.
Brielle had served at her father's side since childhood, and, far more so than her stepbrother, had been faced with aliens before. She had conversed with the eldar of the Steel Eye Reavers, stood before the haunting Chanters of Miras, and had even caught a glimpse, as few humans ever had and lived, of the near-extinct khrave. Korvane had achieved none of this, having studied the intrigues of high court at his mother's side whilst Brielle travelled the stars with her father. While Korvane's childhood had been a time of cloistered study and training, Brielle had learned the ways of her mother's people and her father's both, simultaneously drawing strength from the traditions of Chogoris and the Arcadius.
As she traced the crate's alien lines, her touch reached the control stud set into its side. She hopped off the crate's top before pressing the stud down. She knew she should not do so. Her father would disapprove. She did so anyway.
The previously invisible seam parted, and the lid rose with a gentle hiss. As the vapour cleared, she looked within. A polyhedral object lay inside, a thin sheen of frost glistening briefly before dispersing. A thrill coursed through her as she considered that merely to possess such an item was, for the vast majority of humans, to invite the wrath of the Imperium's highest authorities. Yet Brielle had learned from her father's example that such laws did not apply to such as her.
To the common subject of the Imperium of Man, the xenos was a ghastly, slavering beast gnawing at the borders of human space, waiting in ambush amongst the stars to entrap, enslave or devour those foolish enough to leave the security of their own world. In fact, most humans had no inkling as to the existence of alien races, beyond the few names that ranting preachers berated them with. They knew of orks, the barbarous green-skinned and utterly war-like beasts that made war on the Imperium in ever-increasing invasions, but they had no idea as to the orks' true nature. Brielle had visited the wastes of Gommoragh and seen first hand what they could do to a world. They may also have heard of the eldar, a race that was often held up as the ultimate warning against intemperance and self-serving profligacy. Such tales repelled most people, although others were strangely attracted to them. Such was the nature of humanity.
She reached into the case, a thrill of danger passing through her. This was dangerous, she knew, foolish in the extreme, for the case might contain anything from toxic chemicals to a lethal weapon. She felt the cold of its unseen stabilisation systems, but hesitated for only a heartbeat before laying her hand upon the cold metal of the object she found within. She lifted it clear, holding it up before her face. Its many surfaces were constructed of some form of dull, hard metal, and each facet housed a single, hemispherical bulge of a deep, green, jewel-like material. Its purpose was entirely hidden, and no control devices of any sort were apparent. Brielle turned the object around in her hand, holding it higher to catch the light of the cabin's illumination. The shallowest of seams were etched across its surfaces, tracing a delicate lattice, yet still she could discern no way in which the object might be activated or utilised. She brought the object close to her face and peered right into the glassy depths of one of the green bulges.
She gasped, almost dropping the object as a shiver ran through her. Just for an instant, as she looked within the jewel, she had the distinct and unpleasant sensation that something had peered right back out at her.
The intercom buzzed, a voice announcing, 'Mistress. We are beginning our approach on the Fairlight.
Delicately, Brielle replaced the xenos device in its crate, the bracing moulding itself around the object's bulk. She activated the control stud, and the lid slid back on silent runners, sealing itself against the outside world, its seam disappearing.
Brielle looked across at her grav-couch, but decided against crossing to it. She would travel in the cockpit. It may be less well appointed, she thought, but from there she could view her cruiser, the Fairlight as they approached. It was as well to savour the trappings of power every now and then.
There was a heavy bulkhead door at the fore of the cabin, which Brielle hauled open, passing down a short companionway to the cabin. Her pilot turned in greeting as she appeared behind him, his hard-wired cybernetics restricting the movement to his neck and upper torso.
'Mistress, we dock in four point seven minutes. Goanna the pilot said.
'Good. I think I'll watch. Brielle said as she climbed into the unoccupied co-pilot's position.
'Yes, mistress' he said, before turning back to focus his entire attention on his task. If the man felt any discomfort at his mistress's presence, he hid it well. Brielle had trouble reading old Goanna at the best of times, for, over the decades he had served the Arcadius, he had become increasingly at one with his vessel, and had been fitted with ever more cybernetic interfaces and ports, allowing him to commune more closely with its machine spirit. At times, she suspected that he was in the grip of some form of religious ecstasy, such as the saints of the scriptures were wont to enter when at one with the spirit of the Emperor. Several years back, he had requested he be allowed to take permanent station at the shuttle's controls, and Brielle had granted him his wish. Since then, he had led the existence of a servitor, yet he was no lobotomised, mind-scrubbed mono-tasker. He was a valued servant of her dynasty, and he honoured his mistress with his sacrifice in her service.