+++FILE DESIGNATION: Lord-Captain’s Personal Logfile+++
With our ship supplied and crew thoroughly staffed, I gave orders to set off into the Maw.
Our first destination was Temple Station, still owned and operated by the Raethos Dynasty. There, I met with the the military Lord-Governor of the station and toured the facilities. It is a well run station, kept much in the same manner as an Imperial Naval vessel. The presence of civilians complicates matters to some degree, but they are strictly segregated from the larger, military sections of the station. This is a wise arrangement and almost certainly necessary for the proper running of military operations. While I was aboard the station, Troix made his way down to the Gate itself to examine the relic and observe it’s workings. I can only hope it was worth the trouble of the Tech-Priests of Mars crawling over my vessel for hours on end.
During my meeting with the Lord-Governor, I ascertained that his station has been suffering from a bit of a refugee crisis. It seems that the refugees, led by one Deacon Ifechi, contracted a Rogue Trader vessel known as the Gilded Hook to carry his people and their supplies into the void to eventually establish a colony on Merv 12RB-75. However, instead, the unscrupulous dog abandoned his charges and stoll their goods, leaving shortly thereafter for parts unknown. This matter seems to me to be a herald of things to come. I shall put myself to work studying the names, histories, dealings, and ciphers of the Rogue Traders operating in this area so that when, once more, I am faced with such business, I will not be caught unaware.
I have my made it my mission to hunt down this Gilded Hook, subject her captain to the Emperor’s Mercy, and take her for my own. Even in a lawless place such as this, curs and villains must know that the Emperor’s Holy Law is still in force. Furthermore, I believe the ultimate goal of these Mecutians can still serve me. Ifechi assures me that the lost world that is their destination will produce a very profitable colony. And, as long as the appropriate tithes are paid to the Administratum, I see no reason why my dynasty cannot profit from it’s eventual prosperity. I shall alert the rest of the command crew to my decision at the next senior staff meeting.
In orbit around Footfall, our current port of call, I held a meeting with Medoc de Grave, my Master of Whispers. It is clear that he is displeased by his current position – specifically, that he was displaced in the role of High Factotum by Nicostratus. I must endeavor to keep an eye on the man, lest he stray off the reservation. However, he seems to remain eager to serve. Thus, I set him to work analyzing the Administratum’s appointments to my crew. He has turned up a “former” retainer of the Montresor Dynasty, Rubela Winthers, who has been assigned as my commercial cargo-master. It appears that she has been receiving supplemental income from outside the Draque dynasty. I will not tolerate mixed loyalties aboard my ship. I have dispatched orders to have Winthers detained and interrogated. If she turns out to be a spy sent by the Montresors to monitor or subvert my activities, she will die as all traitors do – in the cold embrace of the Void.