Ciaphas Cain: Hero of the Koronus Expanse

[Irked]

Thank you for the chapter! Can't wait till he fights the space marine in chapter 2 was it?

Click to shrink...

Wouldn't be the first time, and that one probably doesn't hold up as well against the last one Cain threw hands with.

 

[Hjonk]

In the aftermath of the mutiny, leaving the warp and the crowning of the Commissar as the new Lord Captain and Rogue Trader, Jurgen came to the conclusion that the staff of the ship were... adequate. For 'civilians', at least. Sure, they were a far way from the kind of military structure that he and Cain were used to, including a frankly ludicrous amount of pleasantries, bowing and kneeling for what could very well be done with a simple salute, a nod and getting the frakk on with the work, but at least they had an appropriate amount of eagerness to fulfil whatever orders they'd been given. Sure were more efficient than most PDF he had the displeasure of dealing with in the past.

So Jurgen had taken to the kind of work he usually did as the Commissar's Aide, chest puffed with pride each time he had to assert his borrowed authority to some doubtful clerk or officer. They could never refuse him for long though; it was an immense honour to have Cain's trust, one Jurgen would never stop treasuring and which he made sure to always repay with faithful, diligent service in whatever way the Commissar could need.

Which tended to involve securing a properly comfortable room when arriving at a new base, scrounging for better meals and sourcing the freshest supply of Tanna he could. Or, as the case often was, taking care of the tedious and unimportant paperwork that was clearly beneath the attention of a man like Cain.

Similarly, Jurgen had quickly figured out the most important details of their new posting: who held what responsibilities around the ship and staff, which storage bays were open and which had stuff actually worth scrounging through, and how the chain of command was structured. It had taken quite a bit of convincing, along with some subtle (for Jurgen) hints and flashing of his treasured Signature, declaring that he worked with Cain's authority, but eventually he had got everything he needed to keep things in order.

Well, not everything. They couldn't just remodel the ship on the fly without a proper contingent of Cogboys to soothe the machine-spirit or a port to handle the maintenance, but at least the basics were in place. Things like making sure that Cains' new rooms had proper space set aside so the Commissar could go through his usual chainsword drills; having a more suitable desk set aside for real work in his bedroom, as he knew Cain felt most comfortable working in smaller, more cosy spaces; setting aside space for his own quarters and a workstation in the entrance hall, ensuring that anyone wishing to bother the Commissar had to get through him first, and finally; a proper Tanna-brewing station.

It was a basic setup that had gotten the von Valancius staff nearly frothing at the mouth, but they did as requested with commendable speed and efficiency regardless. Which made it all the more baffling that they were arguing again now.

"... and not to mention the fact that the lower decks are no place for the Lord Captain himself to trod unprepared, especially not so soon after the filthy rabble showed their lack of true faith and loyalty!" Some noble officer or other was shouting in the kind of voice his type used when they desperately didn't want to actually shout. He'd been ranting at Jurgen for near half an hour now, outraged at Cain declaring his intent to personally visit the orphaned kids at the lower decks, on request of the Battle-Sister, without giving a proper amount of time for the staff to 'tidy things up'.

Jurgen had only been half-listening, his main attention on the paperwork on his desk and ensuring that the guy didn't try to barge inn on Cain before the Commissar finished his morning Chainsword routine.

He probably wouldn't go that far, though. Jurgen was pretty sure the only reason he'd had the guts to actually complain at all was because Jurgen presented an 'acceptable' target air out their grievances to. Which was fair, he supposed, though the least they could do was keep it down so Cain wasn't disturbed on accident.

Nonetheless, he was about to finally stand and get rid of the man when the task was taken care of for him.

"What in the Emperor's name are you doing!?" Abelard's voice thundered as he arrived via the servant's entrance near the main elevator, his stride purposeful and expression set like stone as he glared at the noble officer whose name Jurgen didn't bother remembering. "The Lord Captain declared his intentions; now it is your task to listen and obey!"

Impressive, Jurgen thought. Finally another person who understood how to react when the Commissar made a decision.

The noble stuttered and sputtered some excuse that he didn't bother listening to before finally hurrying off, muttering about extra guard-patrols with their already limited crew. Only when he was out of sight did Abelard let his expression soften, turning from stern disapproval to firm indifference, though his tone remained disgusted. "Honestly, to think they'd have the gall to question the Lord Captain so openly. I swear, it's like the mutiny made them think insubordination and heresy were acceptable!"

"They're checkin' the reins, sir." Jurgen replied, unbothered as he signed off another document and added it to the 'do not bother the Commissar' pile. "With a new commissar, the troops always gotta' see how far they can push regulations 'for the lashings begin."

Abelard stared at him for a moment, looking as if he needed a moment to process the very idea. People did that a lot whenever Jurgen commented on what he thought was obvious. Just a benefit of decades-long service and experience at the Commissar's side, he supposed. Finally though, Abelard got himself through it, shaking his head lightly before focusing once more. "Right. Regardless, I've ensured that proper preparations are in place for the Lord Captain." He announced with diligent pride, glancing towards the entryway to Cain's chambers. Jurgen simply hummed in response as a low whistle went off, put away the remaining work that clearly wasn't urgent, then moved towards the pot of tanna that had just finished brewing.

Abelard watched him move, expectant yet unsure of how far he could push things with Cain's right-hand man.

He didn't get long to wonder; just as Jurgen finished pouring a fresh cup of tanna, and using the remainder to fill up a freshly polished thermos that he kept on him at all times, Cain himself came striding out from the Lord Captain's chambers, his uniform perfectly pressed, commissarial cap on his head and his chainsword-scabbard loose at his hip. He barely spared Abelard a glance before striding towards Jurgen, who offered up the cup without a moment of hesitation.

"Ah, perfect - thank you Jurgen." He said gratefully as he took the cup, sipping it with a pleased hum. The commissar always liked to have a fresh cup after practice - or most physical activity, really, along with especially stressful or annoying meetings and duels with Ork Warbosses. Jurgen simply took the thanks with a nod, lips twitching in an approximation of a smile beneath his beard before cleaning up his brewing stand and preparing to leave.

"Seneschal's sayin' the lower decks are ready, Sir." He informed Cain after giving him a proper moment to enjoy his drink. Abelard finally seemed to find a proper way to insert himself into the interaction, taking a step to the side of Jurgen's desk.

"Indeed. Argenta reports that the children are ready, the deck-clans are properly informed and I've ensured there are proper precautions in place should any subversive elements remain." He reported, back straight and chest pushed forwards. A bit too much, Jurgen thought - it was very clear he wanted to impress the Commissar, though at least that wish was backed up by the kind of competence Cain habitually brought forth in people.

"Excellent. No use standing around here then - let's get to it." Cain decided, finishing his drink and handing the cup back to Jurgen, who wiped it quickly and stowed it away for later. Then he strode towards the elevator, Jurgen falling easily into step at his right and Abelard swiftly moving to be on his left. "Would you mind giving a proper report on the way, Seneschal? I'm afraid I didn't have time to read through it all yet..."

As they boarded the private elevator and began the descent into the bowels of the ship, Jurgen gave a subtle, narrow-eyed glance at the navy officer, who returned the look behind Cain's back as if challenging his position while beginning his report. Giving nothing but a simple, quiet grunt of acknowledgement, Jurgen turned his gaze forwards again, thinking back to the The Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer and reciting its pages in his mind.

Time to see whether Jurgen had to give some lectures on proper Astra Militarum standards. No way the Commissar would have to deal with a staff working purely on navy baseline, after all.

---

Abelard Wersarian, Seneschal and former Right hand of the Rogue Trader von Valancius, felt... uncertain. It was not a feeling he enjoyed, and one he laboured to erase with diligent service and unshakable Faith, but with such a massive change in his- in all of their lives, it was inevitable that even he'd be more unbalanced than was usually acceptable.

He had served the Dynasty for well over half a century already, spending that time at Theodora's side with the knowledge that he kept her ship and servants in good order. To find that not only was there a traitor amongst them, but one so high placed as to make Abelard's efforts near irrelevant? It was a blow to his confidence, not to mention his pride - a petty concern, he knew, and one he would punish himself for when he had the time, but evens had led his workload to increasing tenfold.

At least it gave him plenty of opportunity to atone and prove himself once more.

But there too were there... difficulties. For Lord Cain had not simply arrived on his own, but with his own Right Hand as well. Jurgen.

On the surface, the man was everything Abelard despised in the usual Astra Militarum rabble he had met in his career. Untidy, filthy, without an ounce of proper decorum, tact or respect for basic hygiene; seeing the man stand so close to the Rogue Trader's Throne on the Bridge had been almost painful, forcing Abelard to restrain his urge to drag him to the lower decks.

And he had to restrain it; repugnant, gruff and altogether discomforting Jurgen may be, but he had served at Cain's side for far longer than Abelard. In fact from the way they acted together, he wouldn't be surprised to learn they'd served their entire lives together.

Which made it both more and less bearable, as while it was a comfort that the man was competent and dutiful, it also meant that Abelard had to compete with a man who had known Cain for decades, perhaps even a century. And that kind of competition was dangerous, for instability in the Officers was but a sign of how fragile a situation truly was; would only further encourage dissent and unrest in the crew. So he had to play his role to perfection until such a time that he could deal with it properly and privately.

"... lastly, the Tech-Priests confirm that we must have a true Enginseer Prime before the Warp-Drive can be brought to full functionality." Abelard rounded off his report as they approached the storage bay that had been set aside for the 'event'. "They do not have the necessary expertise nor religious authority to rouse the greater Machine Spirit of the ship into action. Luckily, the local Planetary Governor should be more than happy to offer assistance both to fill out depleted crew and contact the Machine Cult to find a suitable replacement.

Cain was silent for a moment, seeming deep in thought with hands clasped behind his back. He was utterly unreadable even to Abelard's experienced and augmetic eye, expression firm and carefully neutral as he considered the report. It almost had him pushing on in an attempt to fill the silence, but he held back, knowing that the minute details were below Cain's attention. An eager servant was virtuous; an annoying one was a failure.

Finally, Cain gave a single nod, tilting his head minutely towards Jurgen as he spoke. "That should be a top priority then, once they get the ship ready to move through the system. A quick stop on the way to see about picking up a new Navigator and we'll be all set."

Jurgen made no sound, though he nodded sagely as if his approval was at all necessary, even when Cain wasn't looking at him. He had started writing down notes on Abelard's report shortly after he'd begun, and now stowed away his small datapad in one of the dozens of pockets littering his netting.

Abelard found himself pleased with Cain's choice. While neither was particularly easy to deal with and appease, Navigator Houses tended to take any perceived slight much more personally than the Priesthood of Mars would - and being relegated to a "last stop" was certainly something they'd take umbrage with. He would have to inform the crew to get the Navigator's Chambers prepared for a new occupant once they'd finished with Cain's visit to the lower decks.

Which were about to start properly, as they passed a bulkhead and entered the area Argenta had requested set aside. The hallways were wide even here, fit for at least five crew walking shoulder to shoulder, while the ceiling was tall enough to accommodate any heavy machinery that required moving through the bowels of the ship. There were clear signs of recent cleaning as well - rust marks that had not quite been polished away, intermitted stains and marks of filth common to the lower decks whether that be oil, lubricants or other unmentionables. Abelard fought to keep his distaste off his face, feeling almost ashamed at having led the Rogue Trader here, let alone the Heroic Commissar Cain, but on the man's order there was nothing to do but obey.

Cain himself seemed utterly unbothered as he strode through the hallways, walking with such confidence it was as if he had walked the halls of the ship for longer than trained crewmen or the patrolling guards who kept a watch over their path through the ship. Abelard barely had to indicate directions towards the storage bay, until they finally passed the final bulkhead and entered the room.

They were greeted by something closer to a mob than a congregation. Argenta was there at the front, her power-armour freshly cleaned as she led the crowd in prayer, a few dozen children watching on and participating with halting voices that clearly had not yet memorized the Prayers of Saint Emilia. The Battlesister clearly noticed their arrival, lowering her head further and leading the prayer to conclusion while Cain moved towards the small stage she had set up, Jurgen moving to a guarding position near at hand. Abelard glanced about carefully before moving to the officer in charge of the guards present, stern eyes gazing across the children and the deck-clan chaperones at the edges of the room.

Any failure of the crew was a reflection of his own; he would have to ensure that none allowed. He would prove his worth as the Seneschal of House Valancius, and a trustworthy servant of his new Lord. Perhaps he should even have a talk with Argenta; while he'd heard some of the Legend that was Ciaphas Cain; Hero of the Imperium in the regular propaganda broadcasts and from gossip amongst the Navy and Guard, surely he could learn more about his new Lord from the Sister who proclaimed him a Saint?

The thought was hopeful, but while he held much respect for the Battlesister, as all proper Imperials should, he did not look forwards to that conversation much. Perhaps he should simply sit in on some of her sermons instead?

Whatever it takes, he thought, resolve strengthened once more as Cain finally took the word, his voice ringing out with the kind of firm compassion and patience and righteous determination that had even the children standing taller, backs straightening with fires lit in their eyes that they did not yet know how to channel or understand. Even more than his obvious martial prowess, it was clear Cain was every bit the expert orator that he had been hailed as, effortlessly raising the spirits of his subjects and inspiring the kind of loyalty and zeal that made perfect crew out of the doubting and the downtrodden.

Abelard made a note to check on this batch specifically, already able to envision future Officers in a few of the older kids. Some extra aid to the clans might also do well; ensuring they always remembered where their loyalties should lie, and reinforcing the role of their Lord Captain in their successes. Starting with the prepared treats, of course - tossing candy to children to cheer them up was almost always a winning move with his own children (when they'd been young some decades in the past, at least).

As Cain finished off his speech, addressing even the few of his audience who doubted his honesty or compassion with respect and honesty. Abelard would have preferred something more firm; a lashing, or withholding rations to teach a lesson in obedience and duty, nipping the bud of rebellion before it could grow. But watching the anger of the child soothe into something more directed and purposeful as Cain spoke, he decided not to give the order.

Abelard had a new Lord Captain now, and the role of a Seneschal was to anticipate the needs, wishes and demands of his Lord, not to fulfil his own. He would simply have to learn quickly and hope that any inevitable missteps could be corrected for before Cain decided that he was better served by another.

He would prove himself a better Right Hand than the Militarum soldier ever could be. The honour of his family and his history depended on it.

---

With a weary sigh, she pushed the chair back from her desk, ignoring the dozens of reports, documents and missives covering its surface. She'd been working through them for the past twelve hours already, and more would surely arrive once the next guard rotation arrived. Best make sure she was still functional by then.

Steady, solid steps brought her around it as she moved through her chambers towards her private kitchen, mind whirling with plans, theories, concerns and calculations as she went about making herself a simple lunch. Many of her rank would likely see that as a waste of time, relegating the task to carefully vetted and instructed staff, but she felt that the normalcy of it, the humble routine, made her thoughts more focused. She had always been a woman of action, after all, taking well after her own commanding officers once upon a time, as well as the man who had seen her potential before any other had thought to give her a chance.

A fond smile touched her lips at the memory as she brewed a cup of Tanna, setting aside a small, extra cup for a man who was not present even as she savoured her own drink. Sentimental and wasteful in truth, and the Quartermaster still buried at her core lamented the drink that a soldier could have had instead, but she did it anyways, and would continue to. Would not disregard the sentimentality until, she suspected, the day her own Final report had been filed and she joined the soldiers she had fought beside, commanded and served at the foot of the Golden Throne.

But the day had not yet come, even as her work piled ever higher. Entire Sectors were in chaos, loyal worlds under siege or about to be, the guiding light of the Emperor reported ever dimmer through the turbulent Warp. Navy patrols took longer to reach their destinations, leaving the Guard to struggle with fewer reinforcements and supplies. She could picture it clear as day, from memories as well as from the reports filling her desk; regiments left stranded, struggling to hold out with diminishing ammunition, let alone food. Entire planets wondering when their rescue would arrive as they were beset by Heretics, Mutants and vile Xeno.

It seemed grave news was all she received, these days. Even without being one of the poor bastards left without a Homeworld, she felt the loss of Cadia like a pillar of her world was knocked out. It was just difficult to even comprehend as a concept, let alone a fact; The Emperor ruled, PDF forces were useless, and Cadia Stands.

At least the Commissariat had been efficient with their newest slogans. "The Planet broke before the Guard did" certainly lit the fire in those moping and brooding soldiers, almost as well as He had always managed.

But she had long learned to not rely on such from others, to not wait for another to pick up the mantle of responsibility and lead the charge. Once upon a time, the height of any day had been standing at His side and watching a master at work, but the training wheels had come off long ago. She could only hope her efforts made Him proud, wherever He now stood.

Knowing her mentor, she could only guess he was off on yet another adventure, dealing with the galaxy-altering threat no-one else had even noticed with the same casual humility and unshakable confidence as always.

The thought made her lips quirk up in a smile as she sipped her Tanna and finished her lunch, moving back towards her desk once more. She had let herself get lost in memory and contemplation for long enough, she would not make her Duty wait any longer. The Regent would expect her full, comprehensive reports the moment he returned from his latest 'errand', after all.

For Lady Commander Jenit Sulla, first woman of her rank and personal protégé of Lord-Commissar Ciaphas Cain himself, there was no purpose greater than her service to the Imperium.

---

Holy shit did this chapter kick my ass for a while; sorry for the wait! I've been struggling to write for the last two months - not because I've lost enthusiasm or care for this story, or even my Ork!Tanya story (which may or may not update soon as well) but because I've been stuck on figuring out where I even want to take things.

Should be easy, since I'm following the RT game, right? But actually writing out the next step and *how* to do so is another matter entirely. (Plus, y'know, Uni has been a wrench in it as well)

So, compromise; an interlude, testing out in practice how it feels writing more "usual" scenes between the Cain-style memoirs, depicting some of the events of the game from other perspectives (as well as extras. Did not plan that but Sulla decided to include herself, so there she is lol) as well as giving insight into how the characters truly feel and think in the moment, as opposed to how they look back on events.

Jury's still out on whether I will include some of the other, central characters in scenes like this; Cain himself would probably remain only in the "main" chapters as this format is best suited to how others see him, but I'd love to hear what all of you think about that as well.

Do let me know your thoughts, opinions and critiques!

 

[Revanchist]

Man you got something special with this story! It is exactly how I would think a story with Cain as the MC of rogue trader would go. Interested in seeing when you have the boss fight at the end of chapter I. Cain vs word bearer.