Chapter Text
“The file on you is quite, how shall I put it, extensive,” he began almost idly, too casually. “For a simple guardsman that is.” A metal finger lifted to her temple, hooking a sweat soaked strand of her hair around its joint. “An amnesiac with no kin listed to claim remains or to be filed with the Administratum in case for compensation if you had fallen on the frontlines. A circumstance that does not warrant the lengthy brief I had about you.” He regarded her whilst twirling the hooked strand around on his finger. “The Inquisition is everywhere, girl,” he huffed seeing her disbelief. “You are noted to have ingrained combat instincts, an uncanny ability to navigate etiquette without much instruction. And more importantly, it specifically remarked your ability to watch your tongue and knowing when to hold it. You have survived far longer than any guardsmen would have during active duty.”
The sudden shift in tone had Helena hold her breath watching every minute twitch of his. Her eyes followed his finger’s tracing lazy circle just in the periphery of her vision. From trying to squeeze as much information out of her as he could to an almost… unhurried coaxing. As if the next bit was of no importance at all. But it was… why else would the Inquisition want to know? Where was the trap he was setting out for her?
“Imperatoris Gratia,” she muttered. “Perhaps it is not as unusual if, as you have said,” she lifted her chin then, “a guardsman survives for so long that they would accumulate a longer dossier with the Inquisition.”
His eyebrow rose for a moment before his expression smoothed back out into a blank slate. “Perhaps,” he drawled. “Though it is not your first brush with the Enemies of Humanity and once again you come out mostly unscathed and alive. More than what anyone else can say.” He watched her intently for a brief pause. “More than what your platoon can say now.”
Helena lowered her head, closing her eyes as her mouth moved in an unspoken prayer to guide the souls towards the Emperor’s light. Once this was concluded she too would be disposed of. One had to be blind to not see how much her Junior Commissar disliked her. For the way her comrades had liked her, covered for her when the nightmares of the warp breach deprived her of sleep.
“When will the re-assignment come into effect, your Excellency?” she still asked unable to keep the defeat out of her voice.
“Soon,” he said nonchalantly as if it were unimportant. “Though,” he deigned her with a shrewd side glance, “your Junior Commissar has clamoured loudly for your court martialing.”
Of course… she had assumed his duty in his absence. To escape his own charges, he’d get her to take the fall. Closing her eyes in resignation, she hung her head even though the sensation of the world tilting on its head did not vanish. It wasn’t unusual for soldiers to get executed after or during battle. Now she would be one of the many unfortunate. Staring at the bare thread blanket covering her legs, she picked at a loose thread sticking out at the seams.
“This has not come as a surprise, has it?”
Looking up, she saw that Calcazar was scrutinizing her with a quirked eyebrow. As if he had expected something else. What would begging for her life bring her? Only humiliation. No, if she was to face death, it would not be with a tear blotched face.
“One would have to be blind to not see why, your Excellency,” Helena sighed pinching the bridge of her nose.
The Inquisitor’s nostrils flared. “And yet you do not seek to disprove the accusation?”
“He is the Commissar in charge of me, your Excellency. What is my word against his? And it is true, I did assume his responsibility in regards to Fredrik. If I fight, it will only be seen as further insubordination and at worst, it could be seen as treason. A charge I’d rather not have added to my sentencing if I can help it.”
The Inquisitor huffed in derision dropping the strand he had been holding to lean back on his seat with his arms crossed.
“Such a good little soldier,” he cooed. “It is a shame you will not remain one for long.”
Heat spread over her face and the back of her neck at the mockery dripping from his words. Yet, something in what he said, tugged at the back of her mind. Looking up, she watched the man sitting across from her carefully. If her fate was already decided, if she was truly to face the firing squad, or if he was to do the task, then his entire demeanor made no sense. As she opened her mouth in the faint hope of the unlikely case he would even tell her, a flurry of loud bangs on the door startled her back into silence. She glanced over to the Inquisitor whose face had twisted into an irritated scowl. An unexpected visitor it seemed.
Before Calcazar was able to say anything, whether to tell them to go away or to grant entry, the door swung open. Her jaw fell in shock. On the threshold stood the subject of the questioning. Junior Commissar Jeffdon. A smarmy small man who never truly filled out his ostentatious coat with his bony shoulders.
Her body snapped into a rigid salute before her brain could truly process the sheer audacity and numerous breaches of protocols. Wide eyed she stared at the man now frozen in place whose eyes were firmly fixed to the Lord Inquisitor. One he had so openly disrespected by barging in without awaiting an answer.
For a long heartbeat, no one moved. Helena did not even dare to twitch a muscle, let alone breathe. Far too late to be still appropriate, Jeffdon finally snapped into a salute. The sight of him, clean shaven jaw, well-groomed mustache and the pristinely pressed yet ill-fitting uniform had hot boiling anger curdle in her gut.
“Your Excellency, I beg your pardon, I was not informed –“
Calcazar, with a calm that drove a chill into Helena’s bones, tilted his head and looked at the Commissar through a squinted eye. Grinding her teeth to keep the anger at bay, Helena kept herself as still as possible. The less the two men, at whose complete mercy she was, paid attention to her the better.
“Do close the door, Commissar,” Calcazar said unhurriedly gesturing to the open door cutting the silence like a knife as his teeth were bared in a predatory smile. “We do not need any gawking eyes and curious eyes, now do we?”
In all her years having been under Jeffdon, she had never seen the man visibly falter in his stance nor his eyes flicker off to the side as if considering to just leave. Though, it happened too quickly. Helena was certain she would have missed it if she hadn’t known him for so long. A sentiment she could not begrudge him. Yet when he relented and stepped into the room, a vicious satisfaction grew overshadowing the anger.
“Of course, your Excellency.” Jeffdon’s voice was calm despite the initial wavering as he closed the door behind him. “I sincerely hope I have not interrupted your sacred duty?”
Another disguised apology delivered by faintly trembling hands that were quickly clasped behind his back. He stood right by her bedside and now with the door closed the air slowly began to turn stifling. No escape from either of them. She was trapped in more ways than one.
“Your timing could not have been more impeccable,” Calcazar said as calmly as before, as if the disrespect had been unworthy of notice. “In fact, I have just finished the questioning of the guardsman in your charge.”
There laid a trap in the same far too calm tone. Relief lightened the weight on her chest for it was not intended for her. One her Commissar did not seem to see.
“I trust she has complied and obeyed your every command, your Excellency?”
“Her testimony proved quite illuminating indeed. I have all the answers I needed from her. In fact, while you are here, there are a few questions I do have for you, Commissar.”
Jeffdon’s throat bopped up and down. “Any questions you have, I shall answer to the best of my abilities.”
“Excellent! I am sure you have heard of the breach that happened on the battlefield?”
It was too cheerful, the smile too sharp and the glint in the dark eye gained a hard edge to it.
“Of course I have, your Excellency. It almost had cost us the victory, if not for our efforts –“
“Our efforts? Are you certain? Were you aware that the breach’s epicenter came from within your platoon?” Calcazar interceded Jeffdon’s little spiel he would have taken them on.
The cheerfulness had vanished to be replaced with razor sharp derision.
“Yes, because I was there!” Jeffon blurted out but then caught himself with a clearing of his throat. “Forgive my outburst, it was all a blur when it happened.”
“A blur? Do you recall seeing the Savant Militant Fredrik and the guardsman Helena?”
Jeffdon frowned. “Yes. I was a bit far off since the blast of a grenade had flung me into a different trench. When I emerged, I saw how it happened.”
“Interesting,” Calcazar drawled. “Perhaps you can shed some light on this matter. Did you see why the psyker was not capable of taking his own life?”
“Your Excellency, the psyker was possessed and therefore not willing. In fact I was about to –“
Helena made to open her mouth, to protest the blatant lie. How dare he dirty Fredrik’s courage and sheer willpower stemming away the chaos long enough for her to do the deed? Only a held up hand halted her movement.
“It is rather hard to believe that the psyker was not willing. But it would be difficult for you to know why since you were not even there.”
“I was –“
“The testimony of your guardman says otherwise. That the psyker had mutated so rapidly that he no longer was capable of even drawing the knife. And since you were not around, she had to assume the mantle of your duty.”
“Your Excellency, whatever this little lying snake told you could not be further from the truth! I will not stand being accused of cowardice! I am a Commissar of the Imperium and my name shall not be besmirched so!”
At that Calcazar’s eyebrow rose. A sign Jeffdon then took to continue on with his accusation seemingly unaware of the hard line the Lord Inquisitor’s had drawn into. A displeased, even a furious one.
“Speaking of the guardsman,” Jeffdon snapped his head around to glare at Helena. “I have come to deliver her the official charges levied against her. Insubordination and for the unsanctioned murder of psyker Fredrik. She stands to be servitorised come next morning.”
Servitorisation… panic wrung out the last drop of air in her lungs into the ensuing silence. Death through execution she had expected, but servitorisation? A fate far worse than death. Numbly she heard how the monitor of the side began to beep faster. Yet the sound did not perturb either Jeffdon or Calcazar who still just watched both of them.
“His death was sanctioned,” Calcazar finally said. “By the Inquisition and approved posthumously as per standard protocol. Any objections to his death are null and void. In her case, in your absence, she was authorized to do your duty and therefore said charge is to be dropped.”
“Your Excellency,” Jeffdon was visibly straining to subdue the indignation threatening to sneak into his voice. “I am a Commissar –“
“I do not care what you are. I need you to explain to me why the psyker’s corpse showed very visible signs of rapid mutation which made it impossible for him to do the deed himself? Even despite that, he had not turned enough at that point to have been fully possessed yet. And his body showed no signs of wounds sustained through any self-defense he would have put up against the guardsman’s attack. Any unwilling, fully formed or not, spawn of Chaos would not have gone down without a fight. Also I am quite curious into which trench you had been flung into? I have been to the site of the breach to inspect it. There were none close by for you to have been flung into nor was there a crater a grenade would have left. Where were you? Clearly not with your squad where you ought to have been.”
Silence, heavy and stifling settled over them. Sweat lined Jeffdon’s temples and one droplet clung to his lower jaw.
“Since when does the Guard forgive insubordination?” Jeffdon said quietly then. “Even if the Inquisition deemed it authorized, we cannot let the rabble think they can just disregard their station.”
Deep furrows appeared on Calcazar’s face. Yet, before he could retort, the door to the room flew open banging and bouncing off the room’s metal wall.
“No one is getting servitorised until I have said so,” a high voice called out.
It was almost comical to watch as Calcazar briefly closed his eyes in barely disguised annoyance.
“Rogue Trader von Valancius,” he tersely greeted the rather tall, heavily decorated and decked out woman sweeping inside.
“Lord Inquisitor.”
The woman’s, now revealed to be Theodora von Valancius, greeting seethed with barely concealed venom. Behind her a stocky man wearing the uniform of the Navy squeezed into the little remaining space, blocking any possible escape from Jeffdon. Theodora von Valancius observed the little scene before her, nose held high with a disdainful downturn of painted lips. Light blonde hair had been gathered on top of her head, with a single braid snaking around her shoulder where it disappeared into the pale fur framing her shoulders. A red lens augment sat in front of her right eye with tubes sneaking around into her thick hair. Entranced, Helena could not tear her eyes away from the woman who she had only ever read about. Beautiful, ethereal and wholly untouchable as the Emperor’s anointed. She was lucky to ever have the privilege to be in any semblance of proximity of her.
“You have found your quarry then, Lord Captain?” Calcazar asked disrupting the trance Helena had found herself trapped in.
Blinking rapidly, as if to dispel the strange hold the Rogue Trader had on her, Helena immediately snapped back into a salute. One copying Jeffdon whose eyes still darted between the Inquisitor and the Rogue Trader with confusion written all over his face. What was the Rogue Trader searching for that led her to barging in here? Certainly it had to be important and urgent to have her daring to interrupt the Lord Inquisitor.
“I have, thank you for the inquiry, Lord Inquisitor,” Theodora scoffed pointedly, her sharp gaze landing on the quiet Commissar. “After I found out that a certain someone circumvented procedures and bribed to obtain the permission to servitorise a certain guardsman here.”
Elegant slender fingers flicked in Helena’s direction as if she merely were shooing an insect away from her face. A gesture to dismiss of the salute. Why was the Rogue Trader concerned for one lowly guardsman? No one cared for some low life scum such as herself. Why was this of any importance? The questions were on her tongue, one she had to bite hard to not blurt them out. With her heart now in her throat, she watched as Calcazar’s sole eyebrow twitched. Nothing good would come out of this for her, that she knew for certain.
“Fraud on top of cowardice, Commissar?” Calcazar sounded amused as he rubbed his beard. “You are collecting quite the number of charges. One would think you were trying to dispose of a witness with such an order?”
“Lord Captain, your Excellency, I assure you, the court martial has been approved by –“
“You still dare to deny?!” Calcazar growled, baring his teeth at the man whose face had turned so pale the yellowish light of the lumen lent him a sickly sheen to his skin.
Helena flinched. Please, by the Emperor, someone just whisk her away from here. She was not supposed to bear witness to the judgement of a Commissar!
“You all are taking the word of a lowly guardman, some scum of some irrelevant Hive, over mine, that of an appointed Commissar –“
“You forget yourself!” Calcazar cut Jeffdon’s tirade off. “And I grow tired of you.”
“Why did it slip your notice that an heir of the von Valancius dynasty was right under your nose this entire time?”
The whole room fell so silent that Helena swore that anyone was able to hear the pounding of her heart and every hasty exhale and inhale she tried to keep as quiet as possible and failing miserably so. An heir? Who… her? No, that could not be. This was impossible, there was no way –
“There was a mandate by both the heads of the Navy and the Guard to search for them in their ranks by all means necessary. Imagine my surprise when they turn up now, after fourteen years of being in the Guard itself and fourteen years after having gone missing?”
“Lord Captain, who are we speaking of? All of my subordinates have come to me long after that! This is hardly my failure.”
“But it is.” Theodora tilted her head. “You are one of many with whom you share the blame. Their mandated genetic testing turned up to be missing and they were enlisted in that timeframe when their disappearance occurred.”
“There was no reason to assume that one of my charges were part of your illustrious lineage, Lord Captain,” Jeffdon ground out shooting a scathing glare at Helena. “None of them could possibly be. I have submitted to your and the Inquisition’s judgment, but failing to notice a missing dynasty heir will not be one of my charges.”
A loud, derisive, haughty laughter filled the air. It had every hair on Helena’s arm stand on end.
“You should have become a jester and not a Commissar. Why are they lying in front of us then if none of them could possibly of my blood?” Theodora smiled. “Abelard, if you would.”
The man beside her, stepped forth, a large dataslate was drawn from the depths of his coat.
“If my word is not enough, then do read the analysis of this guardsman blood. A measure you should have taken when she had first come under your command.”
Everything around her froze as the words and all their meaning finally sunk in. Even her heart forgot to beat as did her lungs to expand for air. No… there had to be a mistake. In no way… She dared a glance over to the Lord Inquisitor to see his reaction. If anyone had known, it would have been him. And… instead of surprise there was startling lack of it. Even a quiet acceptance and then resignation flickered across his features quickly. He had to have known the entire time he had questioned her. That had to why he had not… An acid taste invaded her mouth and her stomach turned. The truth was glaring at her from three faces. All of them looking at her expectantly.
“Her?!” Jeffdon screeched seemingly forgetting all propriety. “This scum?! This cannot be!”
His hands shook violently where they gripped the dataslate. Disbelief warred on his face even as his eyes kept going back and forth rereading and yet failing still to comprehend.
“Are you so deluded that a simple test is too hard for you to read?” Calcazar yelled startling Helena’s heart into somersaults. “You have proven yourself guilty of cowardice and corruption in front of the Holy Ordo Xenos and the esteemed Rogue Trader von Valancius.”
Jeffdon made to open his mouth.
“Abelard, get this man out of my sight. He has polluted it long enough!”
With a snap of her fingers, Abelard grabbed Jeffdon by the collar as if the man weighed nothing to him.
“With pleasure, Lord Captain,” he said sounding incredibly pleased.
“And alert the techpriests,” Theodora added. “We are in dire need of a servitor on the Flagship, don’t you think?”
“I shall see to it personally, Lord Captain.”
Jeffdon tried to move towards Theodora. Whether to fall to his knees to beg or in some insane last ditch effort to avert his fate, Helena did not know. Before he had even taken a step, Abelard moved so fast he became a blur. His fist connected with Jeffon’s temple and the man crumbled to the ground in a heap. Staring at the condemned man, Helena could not find it within herself to feel pity for him. He would have gladly delivered her to the butchers himself. Never had she thought they’d end up parting like this.
When the door fell shut behind Abelard who dragged Jeffdon out by the hair, Theodora finally turned her full attention towards Helena. A cold calculating look appeared in her eyes as they roamed all over Helena’s pitiful appearance.
“The Emperor protects. I am eternally in your debt for his honour,” Helena whispered feeling too faint to speak louder. “How can I of further service, Lord Captain?”
It was a courteous enough response to all that had just happened she hoped. Mind still reeling it tried to make sense of all that had just transpired. She a missing heir? Was this truly not some fever dream? One she was due to wake up soon for this charade had dragged on long enough? Please… How could she even be of service to a Rogue Trader?
“Your service will be to fulfill your blood duty to this dynasty and to me.” Theodora’s face drew into a displeased frown. “Your file stated you lost all your memories of your past before your enlistment? Is that still true?”
“Yes, Lord Captain.”
The Rogue Trader sighed, her shoulder dropping and for a moment she looked tired. “It does not matter. Perhaps it is for the best if you are not attached to what has once been. We shall depart as soon as we can. I have wasted enough time on this backwater planet. Any injuries you have sustained will be treated by the medicaes on board of the flagship.”
“Lord Captain,” Calcazar finally spoke up seemingly having been content to merely observe before. “The aftermath has not yet been dealt with properly. And she has been commended for several medals by other higher ranking commanding officers. She ought to –“
“Your Excellency,” Theodora hissed. “I am at your disposal as long as you have need of me, of course, but she will be coming with me on board of the flagship this very instant. Any medals she is to be rewarded are to be sent there and I will personally give them as is my right and duty. And what better person to pin them than the head of the house?”
A muscle clenched in Calcazar’s jaw. “Your Ladyship, this discussion is not for her eyes and ears.”
Theodora merely spared Helena a brief glance. There in that quick motion, a flicker of something unfamiliar yet familiar passed over the Rogue Trader’s face. Then it was gone when Theodora returned her attention to the Lord Inquisitor. Biting her lower lip, she nodded quickly to which Calcazar only sighed. Turning around, he produced a syringe willed with a milky white substance from a tray. A powerful sedative, designed to put someone to sleep for a prolonged time.
“Be still, girl,” he ordered quietly.
She made to shake her head, to protest, to demand answers. But a stern look from the man, had her frozen in her spot and unable to speak watching the Lord Inquisitor inject the substance into one of the tubes leading into the back of her hand. So she mutely watched the Lord Inquisitor and the Rogue Trader glare at one another as her mind slowly began to slip from her. In the blurry shadows engulfing her vision, she could have sworn that Theodora stepped closer to Calcazar who withdrew with an angry shake of his head reinforcing the distance they had previously maintained.
And then she was enveloped again by the dreamless darkness.