Vior’yo. This Tau assassin had come to this ship to execute an Inquisitor. She had failed. Now she worked for her enemy, re-programmed on a mental level, subjected to brutal propaganda until she broke. The stimulants, which were regularly injected into her, kept her calm, peaceful and compliant – until they stopped. Then all she knew was kill.

The freshly forged Culexus Assassin wondered about the new Officio Assassinorum Clade in a daze. This was her domain, a place of contemplation and practice within the Rogue Trader’s domain (which was the entire ship obviously). It wasn’t a bad life – she had a purpose. With no greater good to strive for, she was at peace.

Until another assassin entered the room.

“You – you must be Vior’yo,” the man said, his helmet tightly sealed, identity hidden. “Is that a code name, or some sort of blue nick-name?”

“Pathetic human,” Vior’yo replied.

“Yeahh. I never was one to make good first impressions. I’m Dead-Eye Duncan, the new Vindicare-in-training. Generally, my first impression consists of a well placed bullet to the cerebral cortex, from the barrel of my Exitus rifle, from a mile away. Afterwards, I don’t stay for handshakes,” Duncan said. “Although it looks like your skills lie in a different area. Never worked with a – what do they call you, Kau, Zau, Fau… Tau! – yeah, never worked with one of you before. So what’s your preferred weapon of choice?”

Vior’yo considered this for a moment, remembering the word that humans used for the helmet. “Animus speculum.”

“Right, right. You’ve been forged into a Culexus. They say you’re not a blank though. In fact, you shouldn’t be anything. Report says that Tau don’t do Psyker or Anti-Psyker stuff. Do you do Anti-Psyker-stuff?”

Vior’yo had been labelled as ‘wrong’ in her childhood, labelled a spectre. She was different, but the more time she spent on the Rogue Trader’s ship, the more she felt as if everyone on board was a misfit. But to answer Duncan’s question. “A bit.”

Duncan nodded. “Well, don’t melt my brain or my bullets and I’m sure we’ll get along fine – I say this as we’ll be working together. I flunked out of Vindicare school, but the Inquisitor said I can train on the job. Works for me, works for you, right?”

“It works.”

“Great – let’s go kill some bad guys*, the Inquisitor requested we soften up the political and military games in this sector.”

*they were in fact, the bad guys.

The two assassins entered the battlefield, a cacophony of utter chaos. They had their orders from the Inquisitor – high profile kills. Dead-Eye Duncan immediately started scaling the nearest building looking for a vantage point. Meanwhile, Vior’yo got distracted with the nearest red-crate full of precious supplies (including grenades – she loved grenades.)

The next few minutes were key – Duncan repeatedly missed his shots and Vior’yo threw a bandolier of grenades blindly, shortly before falling to bolt pistol fire. “My fellow assassin!” Duncan shouted, giving his position away.

The Vindicare assassin slid off the building and ran forwards – passing a Castellan Space Marine of the Celestial Lions Task Force – who was running the opposite direction. They locked eyes for a second.

He’s fast. Duncan thought. He’s glorious. But he’s not the mission objective.

“Wait, who was the mission objective?” Duncan said to himself, as he found himself surrounded by several Primaris Crusader Squads. Duncan pulled out his pistol, but discovered that the fist of a Space Marine held more power than an itchy trigger finger.

Back on the Illustrious Vexation, and after negotiating for his return, Inquisitor Stella crossed her arms as she stood over the two assassins-in-training.

“Zero confirmed kills. We have a long way to go,” she said.