Chương 65: Chapter 63: Long Lost Deals and False Deeds.

POV: Nicole I feel conflicted. Master Doll, Lord Drakios, and even Captain Bolaar. They all take the information I've given them with almost unnerving calm. There's some incredulity, sure, but it's mild, academic. Repeated questions for clarification, like I told them I found a rare animal, not a damned Solitaire.

"Are we certain the individual you encountered was a Solitaire?" Lord Drakios asks. His arms are crossed, his tone measured, his expression thoughtful. I nod, the weariness setting in deeper than I expect.

"His mask has the horns, and the description matches what the Mechanicus has archived on the topic in the harlequin database. If we want confirmation, we can ask Anvial if he's still around, or just ask the Solitaire directly." I glance toward the center of the encampment. Stillness in Motion is lounging in the plush chair Drakios and Doll were using earlier, legs crossed at the ankle, sipping from a crystal glass of what I know is Drakios's private reserve.

When we all turn to look, he lifts the glass in a casual toast.

"This isn't bad," he calls.

"Much better than most of the swill you mon-keigh ferment." Captain Bolaar stiffens. One hand twitches toward his belt, but he reins it in. Barely. Drakios steps forward with the polished tone he reserves for xenos dignitaries and high-ranking officials.

"It's a favorite of mine. Unfortunately, it's no longer in production. The distillery was on a planet lost a few centuries ago." He inclines his head.

"Stillness in Motion, is it? What brings you to our camp, if I may ask?" The Solitaire gives a slight nod.

"I'm here enjoying the intermission." Drakios, ever adept at reading between the lines, inclines his head again.

"I see. And do you plan to remain nearby while Nicole continues her… engagement with the puzzle?" Another nod.

"I presume your intentions are friendly, or at least not actively hostile?" Drakios prompts delicately. Stillness in Motion tilts his head, contemplative, like the question amuses him.

"No," he replies at last.

"I do not intend to quarrel with you or your diverse cast. The little one was feisty enough. My burning curiosity has smoldered until now and shall not be so easily extinguished by the addition of an insignificant modicum of time." I glance over to find Master Doll glaring at the Eldar almost as hard as Bolaar and the Deathwatch are. Given how frustrating the protean, inconsistent sensor returns generated by Stillness in Motion are, I don't blame him.

He reads like a half-glimpsed nightmare on every auspex sweep, there, then not, then more there than anything else. The Inquisitor arrives not long after, flanked by her retinue, with a very enervated-looking Farseer Anvial in tow. Astrovas and the rest of the Star Dragon's honor guard trail behind. I barely acknowledge them, as my attention is pulled toward the towering Wraithseer walking with regal poise beside Anvial. To my psychic senses, the construct is radiant, almost painful to look at directly.

A fusion of soul and warframe so tightly knit it feels alive in a way few things that large ever do. As the Inquisitor immediately launches into a heated debate about Stillness in Motion's presence, I quietly withdraw from the center of tension. Her fury isn't helped by the mocking toast the Solitaire offers her, or whatever sly, double-edged remark slips through his mask. Probably something elegant and infuriating. Instead, I step toward the Wraithseer.

"Hello," I say, tipping my head back to meet her glowing optics.

"Who are you?"

"I am Krele-Caec Veilwalker, little child of the Caurifelliann," she replies, her voice deep, resonant, unmistakably feminine.

"Veilwalker?" I echo, glancing toward Anvial.

"Are you related to Anvial?"

"That whelp is my grandchild," she says, amusement vibrating through the armor's tone amplifiers.

"Now, why have you come to me?"

"Right." I lift the puzzle I was given, holding it out.

"Do you know anything about this thing?" She leans down, the weight of her gaze falling fully on the object. Her attention is almost crushing in its focus.

"Unfortunately, I do not recognize it," she says.

"But I can tell it carries great fate with you. How that fate unfolds, much like your own, is obscured. Clouded even from me." I nod slowly, not entirely sure what she meant, but unwilling to push.

"I see… Thank you. Your chassis is very pretty," I offer, bowing slightly before stepping back. By the time I return to the table, Anvial is speaking, his voice firm but exhausted.

"I am not responsible for Arebennian Stillness in Motion. He is here of his own volition. His task is unrelated to me or my faction. While we facilitated his arrival and can facilitate his departure, it is up to him to determine when that is so. I would not presume to order about a Chosen."

"When are you going to leave?" the Inquisitor asks, her jaw tight enough to crack her teeth.

"When my curiosity has been slaked," Stillness in Motion replies with a shrug that manages to be both casual and utterly dismissive.

"I believe we have an understanding. Sir Stillness in Motion will be afforded guest rights," Lord Drakios clarified, his tone diplomatic but firm, "so long as he refrains from interfering with our recovery efforts and avoids hostile actions against anyone present while he waits." Master Doll's head tilts my way.

"To expedite this," he adds coolly, "Nicole will be asked to dedicate a minimum amount of time each day to solving the puzzle." As everyone turns to look at me, I smile and casually twist the tip of one of the pyramid's corners. The section turns ninety degrees with a soft click, and a sigil on its surface flares with light, remaining lit.

"Sure! I can do that." A soldier, clearly nervous, steps forward stiffly.

"Ahem. Apologies for the interruption, my Lords. The taint within the main hold and corridors of the Galleon has been expunged. By your will, exploration may resume." Lord Drakios stands abruptly, enthusiasm replacing the tension in his posture.

"Fantastic! I believe we could all use the distraction. Captain Bolaar, Master Doll, Nicole, would you care to join me?" He gives a courteous nod to the Inquisitor.

"Lady Striker, the invitation extends to you as well, but I understand if your efforts are better spent elsewhere."

"I shall remain here for the moment," she says coldly.

"There are… logistical concerns I need to address with Farseer Anvial." Her gaze turns to him with all the warmth of a lascutter.

Entering the Galleon is a strange experience. The ship feels heavy, not just in age but in presence. The Auspex baffling built into the hull gnaws at our scanners, making the layout feel off. This is the kind of ship that doesn't want to be found, even when you're already inside it. Drakios leads the way into the main cargo hold, which is lit only by the harsh glow of sterilization team flood lamps. The massive chamber yawns open before us, quiet, empty, and suspiciously clean.

Master Doll approaches a functioning terminal, tapping into it with a mechadendrite. He begins pulling schematics from the damaged memory banks. The readout crackles to life, and what we see is… troubling.

"The main reactor will not be restarting," Doll inclines his head.

"Nor will the warp drive. Both were ejected mid-transit during critical failure." He taps a command and displays the ship's registry.

"According to fragmentary logs, the Galleon is ancient. Possibly even the Heresy itself."

"This ship is… odd," I murmur, skimming the data.

"The reactor looks standard, but the warp drive… a Klenova Class M? Those are weird. No Navigator needed if the route's stable. The Navis Nobilite hate them."

"I agree," Lord Drakios mutters, peering over the schematic.

"A main cargo hold, a hybrid secondary bay, and… a tertiary bay? Full-sized? That's excessive even for a Rogue Trader."

"Destroyed. Along with the Euphoric Life Sustainer," Doll says with distaste.

"There's a Pharmacia likely to provide the addictive chemical cocktail for the Sustainer. But the cloud mining array? That may still be functional." I narrow my eyes.

"They've got luxury passenger quarters… but no facilities for pilots or support crew? And I'm getting almost nothing from the machine spirit. What little I can sense feels… jittery. Like it's hiding something."

"And there's this," I add, pointing.

"A W-240 passive-detection array. That's not civilian-grade." Lord Drakios abruptly begins walking the width of the cargo hold, each stride slow, purposeful.

"Doll," he calls, stopping mid-step.

"Measure this wall-to-wall for me." Doll raises a rangefinder and takes a reading.

"Three-hundred-fifty-point-six meters." Drakios grins like a wolf who's scented a trap.

"Too small. This hold should be seven if not eight hundred meters across." He turns to the wall, eyes gleaming.

"They built in a distributed cargo system. This is a smuggler's ship!" I blink.

"A smuggler? What kind of cargo needs this much obfuscation?" It takes us nearly an hour to find the access panel. Lord Drakios finally locates it, tucked beneath a false vent. Master Doll rigs power from a portable generator, and Drakios pulls the control lever with a flourish. The wall splits with a metallic thunk, followed by the slow hiss of ancient hydraulics.

The hidden section of the bulkhead retracts, revealing the interior with eerie grace, nothing like the decrepit systems we've seen elsewhere on the vessel. What's inside leaves us speechless. The secret bay is filled, floor to ceiling, with Heresy-Era military hardware. Tanks. Walkers. Crates marked with faded imperial insignia. Rows of transport pallets bearing weapon arrays no longer in standard production. It's like someone sealed a fragment of the Great Crusade inside a vault and waited ten thousand years.

"…Emperor above," Bolaar mutters. Drakios lets out a low whistle.

"Well. This changes things."

"By the Omnissiah…" I sputter, my breath catching as my gaze sweeps over the meticulously organized rows of armor.

"This is…"

"A treasure trove worth plundering a Hulk," Lord Drakios finishes for me, his grin as sharp as a saber. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Lael steps forward, squinting into the half-lit bay. Her expression darkens, fury and awe warring across her face.

"That... that's Solar Auxilia equipment!" she shouts, practically vibrating with outrage.

"Who dares to lock away a hoard like this?!" I take a cautious step forward, Auspex in hand, my readings painting a more complete picture.

"I doubt the cultists even knew this was here," I say, voice low with rising excitement.

"There are several unpainted Astartes legion vehicles. This cache predates their occupation by millennia." I let my Auspex sweep across the vault, calling out the inventory like a litany.

"One Aethon Heavy Sentinel Squadron, Solar Auxilia pattern: six units total. Three Malcador Defenders, two Malcador Infernus tanks, five Dracosan Armoured Transports. I count at least a cohort's worth of Solar Auxilia Heavy Void Armour suits and Reinforced Combat Suits. Roughly one heavy suit for every nine reinforced suits." I pause, adjusting the gain.

"An entire Flamer Section… Rifle Section… Omnissiah's mercy, that's a Mastodon Super-Heavy Transport." I glance up.

"One Fire Raptor Gunship. And six Mk. IV Outrider bikes." I turn back toward the others, breathless.

"Did I miss anything?"

"I found a Heresy-Era Corposant Stave," Master Doll adds casually, cradling and stroking the weapon like he might soothe an irritated feline.

"I'm sure the ship is hiding even more. We need to search the vessel from top to bottom thoroughly. Especially around the cargo areas. The problem is that the shielding for these caches is quite elaborate." Master Doll speaks up, his metallic feet clicking as he crosses the smooth floor, "I think there is a method we can use. Older, cruder, but effective against this type of shielding. We'll use acoustic resonance nodes to map the vessel deck by deck. It will only reveal the locations of the hidden spaces."

"Let's mobilize more men. I won't leave a single treasure behind!" Lord Drakios declares eagerly. The bridge of the Galleon is scoured, and not only are advanced sensors found, but also hidden compartments and a complex cryptographic realspace communication vox system, clearly designed to converse with a multitude of disreputable crime syndicates and other nefarious organisations, are uncovered. After a few hours, the next smaller hidden compartment is located adjacent to the secondary storage bay.

Lord Drakios's voice echoes from the back of the vault.

"I found something else. This stasis unit still has power." That gets everyone's attention. I jog over, and the moment I lay eyes on the design, I groan aloud.

"Somebody call the Inquisitor."

"What is it?" Lael asks, not recognizing the shape.

"That... is a Clade Venenum Assassin," I reply grimly.

"Anyone want to bet what the Inquisitor's going to use her claim on?" Unsurprisingly, no one takes me up on it. She can add it to her collection.

"I found something else," Bolaar calls, prying open the hatch on a bulky reinforced container. I scamper over, trying to see past his armored bulk. The moment the contents come into view, I let out a high-pitched squeal that echoes through the chamber.

"What is that?" Drakios asks, raising a brow as Bolaar steps aside. Master Doll leans in, scanning the chassis.

"It appears to be a Dreadnought sarcophagus. A large one. Not a pattern I immediately recognize. Nicole?"

"Saturnine! Chiron Configuration!" I shout, pointing in glee at the dual photonic incinerators mounted in the chest.

"Look at it! Twin photonics, oversized torso plate, yes, yes, yes!" I squeeze into the container and start fussing over it, hands and dendrites searching around for further components. There are none in this container, so I exit and move to open the next. But the moment I open the next crate and see it's empty, my joy curdles.

"Noooo! Where are the pauldrons?! The legs?! The Heavy Plasma Bombard and the twin-linked Disintegration Cannons?!" I groan dramatically, diving into another container... also empty. Master Doll stands over me, impassive, but his eyes flicker with amusement.

"I suspect they may have been stored separately. Or stripped before packaging for transport. Possibly… looted." I clutch one of the sarcophagus's armor brackets like a grieving mechanic.

"They'd better not have been looted." Captain Bolaar chuckles, "Cheer up, Nicole. Even half a Saturnine Dreadnought is a relic most Chapters never even dream of."

"Half missing is still a tragedy," I huff with a pout, my gaze sliding around to settle on Baldos as I let out a contemplative, calculating hum, my mercurial irises glinting from under my hood. —-------------------------------------------------------------------- POV: Agatha Striker, Lord Inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus. Agatha massaged the bridge of her nose. Dealing with Xenos was not her focus, and it had been something she had been doing a frustrating amount as of late.

Anvial made it clear that the Solitaire was not under his banner, and from the brief interactions, it was evident that Stillness in Motion was taking no orders from anyone but himself. Agatha wasn't sure where the clown had gone, here one moment, gone the next, he hadn't seemed inclined to follow the exploration teams into the Galleon. A report from one of her aides indicated he had been spotted casually strolling into the Halo. She had given the order that the dangerous Xenos was to be left alone for now.

Shaking her head, she turned and found the Astartes she sought.

"Sergeant Silvanus, did your squad manage to deal with the daemonhost?"

"Affirmative, Ma'am, Brother Scalprum personally finished the creature. The six-man team we reinforced suffered five casualties, three fatalities, one may require… mental rehabilitation." Scalprum replied as his eyes scanned the staging area.

"That team was overdue for a mind wipe. What of the vaults?" She asked, turning to one of her aides.

"My Lord, the vaults have each been opened, we are still in the process of taking a full inventory of everything, but there are a good number of rarer items and relics that will be of interest to the various parties. Items that may interest you specifically include an Ecclesiarchal Reliquary, though of a Saint I am unfamiliar with," he says as he scrolls down his data slate.

"Holy Relics are always useful in our profession. If the local Ministorum doesn't insist on procuring it, we can bid fairly," Agatha says pensively.

"Continue."

"The second item is one we confiscated. A Black Vault Box, specifically a 17-Omicron, the box is Inquisitorial stamped and heavily warded. We have not dared open it." He whispered.

"Yes, given the markings, it's clearly within our remit to collect. We should refrain from too many such acquisitions. Lord Drakios did not gather such wealth by being generous, and we have already pressured the locals and will be leaving the system with vastly more tangible assets than we entered with. Considering how this system is poised to develop in the next decade, maintaining a favorable relationship is paramount. Our single non-contested bid must be used wisely." Agatha said with a wistful sigh.

"A Purgatus Crossbow was located, it requires some repair, but it was discovered with two full quivers of sanctified bolts. In addition to the three items, several interesting documents are being logged for future perusal and input into the Purest Shadow's data processing cogitator bank," her aide finished with a pleased expression.

"Oh yes, we'll certainly be bidding for that," she mused, she glanced up sharply as the aide manning her vox equipment suddenly stiffened and rushed over.

"My Lord! Your presence is requested inside the Galleon. They found… an entire cache of Heresy Era equipment inside a hidden smuggler's hold. Along with a stasis pod! Unconfirmed, but the… Princeps identified it as an Imperial Clade Venenum Assassin!" The officer spoke quickly between pants for breath. Agatha stood abruptly and snapped her fingers. Her two assassins flanked her along with an escort as she walked briskly towards the Galleon.

—------------------------------ The moment she laid eyes on the stasis unit, a thrill surged through her; she had to have it.

"I hereby declare my uncontested claim on this unit and everything inside it," she announced, voice cool and deliberate, addressing Drakios and young Lady Cavalerio, who stood chatting around a low table dotted with assorted trinkets.

"I called that," the Princeps giggled, mischief dancing in her eyes.

"We discovered a great deal while plundering the hidden compartments. This vessel even had a Warrant of Trade," Drakios pulled out an ancient-looking document and set it on the table in front of him. He smirked, "It's a fake, a very well-made one, almost impossible to tell without comparing it to the real deal. Whoever was running this operation had deep pockets and deep connections."

Agatha had flinched in sheer shock as they had pulled the document out of its protective case, but calmed as they revealed it was a fraud. She scrutinized the document and frowned. She studied it closely but couldn't immediately tell why it was a fake.

"How did you tell?" She inquired.

"It's the signature at the bottom that gave it away," the Princeps pointed, "Signed by the Sigillite, they probably didn't dare forge the Omnissiah's signature. But it's the wrong ink and the wrong calligraphy. Though the wax and base parchment itself are really out of his office."

"I know that signature better than I know my own," Lord Drakios preened.

"That does beg the question of what to do with the document," Agatha said considerately.

"I am tempted to bid on it and use it as a bait item in one of my false vaults. The document still has some innate historical value due to its age, though another argument could be made for it to be destroyed," Drakios explained with a shrug. Agatha clicked her tongue.

"Appraising and properly evaluating some of the items that have been uncovered is going to be difficult."

"Indeed, Inquisitor, it is. We've logged your claim. I do hope you have a protocol for educating an assassin that's been on ice for ten millennia. We happen to have two experts on the topic if you need them," Drakios carefully rolled up the document and returned it to its case.