Deep in a sea of stars, on a water moon slowly orbiting a gas giant, twenty thousand leagues under the surface, existed a domed city. A lost empire. Inside the impenetrable dome was a fortress at least twenty stories high, huge mechanical machines carving out trenches near the edge of the dome, with dreams of expansion, the air thick with smoke and industry. A contrast to the space within the protection of the fortress walls: garden mazes, the scent of flowers blooming and spirited nobles gossiping.

“Lord Captain, why are we in an underwater city on an unimportant moon?” Inquisitor Stella asked the Rogue Trader next to her.

Emberlyn Driftwood plucked a rose-weed from the bush – an action punishable by corporal punishment, if not for her status. She knew she was currently the most talked about figure on this planet and she showed it with minor infractions here and there. She enjoyed it. She revelled in it. She was a star goddess, from the void beyond the ocean. Outsiders rarely visited, and if they did, they were lost and lowly survivors from the wars among the stars.

“My dear Inquisitor,” Emberlyn said. “I’m here to plant the seeds of a flower that will bloom into a renaissance. In the next three decades, this world will be on a major warp trade route. I secure the moon for the Driftwood Dynasty and the fruits of my labours will pay off in the years to come.”

“You can’t pay off royalty,” Stella said. “You can’t just buy nobles and monarchs.”

“Watch me,” Emberlyn replied.

As she approached the golden doors of the Monarch-Dome, another guest was awaiting entrance, sharpening a blade on the gargantuan steps leading up.

Emberlyn let out a baneful sigh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Emberlyns,” Rak’Thar Starhowl, her favourite Kroot mercenary said, clicking three times with his tongue. “Pleasantly surprised to see you’s here.”

The Kroot Void Captain was, as usual, armed to the teeth. Seven feet tall and built for a good brawl, he had humbled Emberlyn on more than one occasion. The fact he was here, on her turf, with several Kroot soldiers who resembled giant ducks, summoned a twitch to the Rogue Trader’s brow.

“You better not be recruiting for that Greater Good nonsense. This moon is mine,” Emberlyn stated, blowing away a strand of loose hair. “And there better not be any funny business.”

“We have a Pact with you Emberlyns. Kinband is loyal,” Rak’Thar responded with a growl at that accusation, the quills on his head spiking up. “We are not Greater Good and not funny business.”

Emberlyn backed down. “Right, of course. Okay. Well. How goes the delivery of my dinner party invitations to the Warlords of this sector?”

“Our Pact goes well. You will haves some interesting guests next week,” Rak’Thar hissed and clicked. “You require protections?”

Emberlyn scoffed, grabbing her pistol holster. “You think I can’t handle myself? I’ll have you know-”

“We invited the Krakkjaw of Orks,” Rak’Thar interrupted.

“-As I was saying, yes please. Kroot protection at the dinner party sounds delightful. Now explain why you’re here?”

Rak’Thar let out a series of clicks and whistles, as it tightened the strap on his grenade bandolier. “We are contracted – short hunting job for Monarch.”

“Oh wonderful. I’m just here for a political meeting, which is starting shortly. Well, good hunting, Rak’Thar Starhowl.”

“Good hunting, Emberlyns,” the Kroot Void Captain said, bowing his head before going back to sharpening weapons.

*

Shortly later, the throne room hummed with a cyan-blue light, illuminating the large windows looking out upon the dome, which held out the depths and horrors of the ocean beyond.

“I’m sorry, your negotiations include a combat trial? And you’ve nominated a royal champion?” Emberlyn asked the Monarch’s Right Hand.

The Right Hand, a priestly fellow, looked to his left, at the androgynous figure beneath a flowing robe, wearing a tall and especially spiky silver crown. The Monarch nodded.

“That… is correct, esteemed Lord Captain of the Void Above,” The Right Hand replied without a breath.

Emberlyn nodded, chest puffed out, displaying her full regal posture. “So if I defeat your champion, the Monarch will bow to me and join my Dynasty?”

The right Hand sucked in a lungful of air. “That… is correct, esteemed Lord Captain of the Voi-”

“Show me to the arena, at once!” Emberlyn exclaimed, jumping to her feet.

The Rogue Trader was led to a large colosseum, which could easily contain a small town. Ruins littered the arena, with viewing seats safely constructed in the theatre outskirts. The crowds howled, excited to watch the Outsiders fight with their exotic technology.

Leaving nothing to chance, Emberlyn summoned her forces, including four assassins. Whoever this champion was, she would make them eat dirt. The population of this city would bow to her in a few short hours.

The sound of drums and confetti cannons echoed down the streets. It was starting.

The large gate opposite her opened. Then Rak’Thar Starhowl walked into the opposite side of the arena, followed by a seemingly infinite conga line of Kroot Warriors, Hounds and Jonks & Gronks. The same force which had defeated her on Treasure Planet.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Emberlyn shouted.