Three Assassins stood in the exquisitely decorated bar aboard the Rogue Trader’s ship, The Illustrious Vexation. One assassin was born to kill psykers, another assassin slept with his rifle at night and the latest assassin drank poison for breakfast. They were currently at each other’s throats. Bottles were smashed, furniture was upturned and most devastatingly, the archeo-disco ball was shattered.

“What in the war-torn warp-storm?” Rogue Trader Emberlyn said as she entered the bar. “Stop this right now or I’ll detonate the explosives planted in your heads!”

That got their attention.

The Culexus assassin, Tau, broken, obedient – stepped back from the brawl. She was followed by the Vindicare Assassin, human, limping, used bullets sparingly. The final one to step back was the newest Callidus assassin, barely human, deceptive.

Emberlyn tutted. “Vior’yo, Dead-eye Duncan and… Birdie. Can you all please focus on killing our enemies, rather than each other?”

“Did you really plant bombs in our heads?” Birdie, the Callidus Assassin, asked.

“Me? Good heavens no. The Inquisitor however… well, you’re just going to have to trust my word that she did,” Emberlyn said. “Regardless, I came to congratulate you all – you’ve passed assassin school and are all now fully-fledged Officio Assassinorum! Now, in a few minutes, Inquisitor Stella will arrive to give you the same news. I thought I’d steal her thunder while I’m here for a drink.”

“She won’t like that, not one bit,” Dead-eye Duncan, the Vindicare Assassin, said.

“No, I don’t imagine she will,” Emberlyn said, grabbing a glittering gold bottle from the bar. “Oh and Birdie, please could you give Hethellana, my personal assassin some pointers? Recently her blade has been dull and her aim worse. For an Aeldari, she’s getting lazy.”

“She won’t like that, not one bit,” Birdie said.

“Is there an echo in here? You work for me. Well, technically, for the Inquisitor, but by proxy, that’s pretty much me,” Emberlyn took a swig from the bottle. “You can tell her I said that.”

“She won’t like that, not one bit,” Vior’yo, the Culexus assassin, echoed once more.

“I swear to the Emperor, if one of you says that again, I’m going to start stabbing,” Emberlyn said, pulling out her mono-molecular cane rapier. She was having an especially bad day and these assassin’s were exasperating.

Birdie unsheathed her phase sword and stepped up to the challenge.

At that moment, the room became ice cold. Glasses and bottles began hovering in the air as the lights flickered. The stars outside blurred as viewports frosted up. The chandelier shook violently and threatened to drop, each candle focusing, like the eyes of a predator in the night.

“Disgusting warp-taint,” Vior’yo said, spitting on the floor.

“Whose taint?” Emberlyn asked.

Inquisitor Stella entered the room, two fingers on her temple, unleashing the faintest echo of a psychic blast from her mind. The expression on her face told them all to stand down.

“I can’t leave you alone for one hour, can I?” Stella said, her voice booming in the warp-fuelled energy. “Callidus, stand down.”

Birdie scoffed, sheathing her blade. She retreated to the nearest bar stool. The other assassin’s followed suit.

“Emberlyn, are you alright?” Stella asked as she let go of the warp energy. The lights stopped flickering and warmth returned to the bar.

“I’m fine, I could take them. Assassin’s are just complicated houseplants, and I’ve killed enough of them to know I’ll be alright,” Emberlyn replied.

“Huh? Anyway, did you tell them?” Stella asked the Rogue Trader.

Emberlyn took another swig of her drink. “Tell them what?”

“Tell them that they’ve completed their training and are officially adepts? Don’t lie, I’ve read your diary,” Stella stated.

“You what? How? That’s locked securely in my personal vault on Deck 3,” Emberlyn said.

Stella poured herself a whisky. “Birdie, the new Callidus Assassin, retrieved it for me. She’s very good at sneaking into places she isn’t supposed to be. As a former Adeptus Arbites, she’s especially adept at understanding security protocols. She also mentioned a booby-trapped dancefloor?”

“Okay – my personal area is officially off-limits. Even if there’s an enemy assassin lodging in there,” Emberlyn commanded. “Just how many more assassins are you going to recruit?”

“Just one more,” Stella answered. “Watch this space.”