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The Rites of Slaanesh

Carlos glanced nervously over his shoulder at the door leading back to the hold. Even through the thick plasteel, he could hear them – howling and hissing and rattling their bars. Whatever those vicious xenobeasts had been sedated with for their trip, it had clearly worn off a lot faster than promised! Still... surely, even if they managed to get out of their cages, they wouldn't be able to claw their way through that door, right? It was half a foot thick, designed to keep out the merciless void itself in the event that the cargo-bay was breached... or had to be opened. No, surely not. Still, if they did get out into the cargo-bay, it could make unloading them a rather difficult proposition!

Gritting his teeth, he turned back to the familiar glow of the instruments, checked one of the gauges, and turned a knob. The engines, far behind, began to howl a bit louder, rivaling the xenobeasts in the hold, and the whole shuttle started to rattle dangerously. He usually never turned the engines up past 6, even for a rush-job – it was just too risky. But... this delivery was heading to that place, 'The Star of Relief'. He'd heard enough rumors about it while picking up shipments in the various voidports around the system, to know what kind of clientele that 'private club' served – nobles, aristocrats, and those who were just dizzyingly wealthy. If he wound up accidentally releasing a shipment of hungry, pissed-off xenobeasts into a place like that, things probably wouldn't end well for him – so, better to risk overloading the engines by taking them all the way up to 8, if it meant getting there before any of the cages burst!

Fortunately, the engines wouldn't have to bear the strain for long. The grandly-decorated asteroid was already on his auspex, drawing steadily closer. Of course, he had to avoid the gilded portal with the big sign that welcomed guests to the hollowed-out rock, and instead fly around to the more humble entrance at the back, where a small but well-maintained voidbay awaited him. The retro-thrusters sputtered rather unpleasantly when he fired them up, and several lights on the instrument-panel blinked threateningly. The shuttle's machine-spirit clearly wasn't happy about having been whipped to such a high speed, and now needing to bleed it off again – he'd probably have to pay the Enginseer back at Prosperity Station extra to calm and mollify it once he got back there. But, from the sound of it, the xenobeasts in the hold were still in their cages, and indeed, seem to have settled down a bit... having been frightened, perhaps, by the machine-spirit's earlier roar?

As he slid his shuttle into the voidbay, a group of liveried servants rapidly abandoned an ongoing card-game to prepare the landing-pad for him – caught off guard by his arrival ahead of schedule, no doubt. Through the windscreen, he could see one of them bend over a vox, no doubt calling in his arrival. By the time he stepped out onto the pad, a couple were ready to welcome him – and his account of the restless xenobeasts caused them to quickly call off the others, who'd started moving towards the cargo-door at the back. "You're sure they didn't escape into the hold?" One of them asked nervously. Carlos shrugged. "Pretty sure? They got quiet a bit before I landed, so either they calmed down and gave up on gnawing through the bars, or..." he looked away. "If you want me to check firsthand, you're gonna have to tip me a lot better than you have so far. And I remind you, making sure these critters are asleep for the trip isn't part of my job."

This prompted a rapid argument. Some of them tried to browbeat and threaten him into checking the hold himself, which he accepted with a phlegmatic expression, crossed arms, and stony silence. Others were trying to collect enough thrones from their fellows to convince him to take the risk rather than do it themselves. A couple were trying to convince themselves, and their fellows, that the merchant they had purchased this shipment from surely wouldn't have sent the beasts in cages they could break out of so easily – but considering that he apparently had sent them off with insufficient sedatives, that was a hard sell.

"What is the hold-up here?!" An imperious, yet also melodious, voice rang out through the voidbay, causing everyone to immediately fall silent and turn towards the sound. The servants stiffened and bowed, but Carlos just bowed his head a bit, as was his habit around nobles. He wasn't one of their serfs, after all – just an independent contractor. And this clearly was a noble – a stunningly beautiful woman with elegantly-coiffured hair, dyed a gleaming, metallic gold. She had surprisingly few augments for her kind – in his experience, nobles loved to flaunt their expensive augs – but there was still no mistaking her for a commoner, what with the dress that had probably cost more than his shuttle, the demure lady-in-waiting by her side, the two heavily-armed bodyguards who flanked her, and the half-dozen miscellaneous servants that were trailing behind her, like Grox-pups waddling after their mother.

"Well?!" She demanded as she proceeded into the voidbay, an annoyed look on her face. "I hear that the shipment of Janusian Lacerax I ordered has finally arrived, and rush here to admire the newest addition to my Menagerie, only to find you all gossiping instead of unloading! If I do not hear a very good explanation, very quickly, you may all soon find yourselves assigned to new duties, since staffing the rear voidbay is apparently too great a responsibility for you all!" Her voice rose and fall in a very compelling cadence, Carlos thought – and whatever 'new duties' she was implying, it made the servants promptly break out in cold sweat. One of them, who apparently had the misfortune of being the highest-ranking present, gathered his courage and haltingly explained the issue, unsurprisingly trying to lay as much of the responsibility on him as he could.

The noblewoman absorbed his words with an expression of vague annoyance, continuing her steady advance even as some of the servants behind her nervously whispered about how there was no need for her to dirty her dress and shoes by wandering around the voidbay, and were thoroughly ignored. As she reached the landing-platform, she nodded crisply and waved the servants aside. "Very well, I think I understand the problem." Then she approached him and, under the weight of her gaze, he reluctantly delivered a half-bow that he hoped looked suitably respectful. He'd never been very good at bowing and scraping, which had cost him a few contracts over the years – aristocrats seemed to expect anyone who entered their orbit to promptly start licking their shoes, it seemed, and took it as a personal offense if you didn't.

"I am Lady Montegrande, the proprietor of this club..." she said coolly to him, looking him up and down in what felt like an unduly critical manner. Sure, he was a bit messy and dirty, but he was an independent shuttle-pilot, not one of her fancy servants. "I understand that you are reasonably certain that your cargo is still confined, but not quite certain enough to be willing to open the door yourself and find out?" He shrugged in reply. "That about sums it up, M'lady. No offense, but you don't pay me enough to get eaten." She snorted at this, glaring over at the servants who were standing nearby, heads politely bowed as beads of sweat formed on their foreheads. "And apparently, I don't pay these sorry lumps enough to do so either..." she remarked, rather acerbically.

She seemed to be about to turn towards one of her bodyguards – who, decked out in carapace armor as he was, seemed like he could probably take a swipe or two from those xenobeast's claws if it came to it – but then paused, and glanced back in his direction. "How much of a... 'tip' would you require, to open that cargo-bay yourself?" She asked, sounding more curious than anything. Thoughtfully, Carlos rubbed his chin. "Some of my regular customers tip me as much as fifteen thrones for a safe and speedy delivery..." he remarked, then shrugged again. "I'd open that door for them, sure enough. So I guess I'd open it for you too, for that much."

This seemed to catch her off-guard – prompting a pearly laughter as she threw her head back. "Fifteen thrones – you'd take that risk, just for that?" With a gesture, she waved off the bodyguard who'd already taken a half-step towards the cargo-door, and instead glanced over at her lady-in-waiting, who'd been standing silent and demure a step behind her so far. "Mariessa – kindly pay the man twenty thrones." The lady – who was the same height as her mistress and clad in a dress that was nearly as opulent, but sported more natural, dark-brown hair – nodded promptly, and pulled a purse from her belt. Two golden discs emerged from it with a flourish – ten-throne coins, minted by the system governor. Carlos accepted them with a polite nod and, without further hesitation, stepped up to the cargo-door and pressed the button that would entreat the shuttle's machine-spirit to open it. The two bodyguards promptly stepped between the door and their mistress, and leveled their weapons at the gate that was now, with a mechanical clattering, beginning to part.

Before the loading-gate had even opened fully, a roar exploded from within, along with a metallic clattering. The nearby servants screamed and scattered. A whine came from the plasma-gun that one of the bodyguards was carrying, as it charged and prepared to fire. Both had fallen into a firing-stance. Carlos had positioned himself beside the loading-gate when he pressed the button, so he mostly just hoped that the man's aim was good – remaining where he was, and craning his neck to see inside the cargo-bay without putting his head in the line of fire.

As the gate fully opened, the two bodyguards relaxed and straightened up, with the painful whine of the charging plasma-gun growing silent. Nothing had come leaping out of the gate, and by now, the cargo-bay was fully visible. The xenobeasts were all very clearly awake, their barbed tails whipping around and clattering against the bars that, it seemed, had proved a match for their fury. It was hardly surprising that they would respond to the opening door with renewed yowling, but it didn't look like they were even testing the cages anymore – just voicing their disapproval with the confined quarters.

The golden-haired noblewoman, peeking out from behind her bodyguards, saw as much – and promptly shoved them aside with an eager smile on her face. "Ah, my new pets! Safely arrived and still in their cages..." she almost purred. "Do not worry, you beautiful beasties – you'll soon be in much larger and more luxurious pens!" As she advanced on the cargo-hold and – with a few sharp words and glares – got her spooked servants back in line and started on the risky task of moving the cages and their ill-tempered contents, she paused briefly, however, and shot Carlos a thoughtful glance. Then she looked away, and made a comment to her handmaiden about letting their supplier know that they were satisfied with the quality of the cages that the goods had been delivered in, but far less so with the quality of the sedatives used.

The Lady Montegrande didn't say another word to him during that delivery – not that he'd expect her to, either. He simply waited for the servants to finish unloading the cargo, and climbed back into the cockpit of his shuttle, perfectly content with the twenty extra thrones he'd made on this trip. Assuming Enginseer Didalos was in a good mood, those should be enough to cover the cost of the extra maintenance-rituals he'd need after straining the shuttle's engines earlier...

The encounter had a lasting impact, however. From then on, whenever he made deliveries to The Star of Relief the servants manning the voidbay were unfailingly polite to him, and so long as the delivery was on schedule, they handed over a fifteen-throne tip with only a slight twinge of envy in their eyes. Carlos was no fool – he could tell that the tip wasn't their idea, but a commandment from above... but, so what? If he'd made a good impression on a noble for once – somehow – that could only be a good thing, right?

Still, it kept the place in his mind – knowing that he was guaranteed a healthy bonus so long as he didn't mess up, he was all the more eager to pick up any contracts involving shipments there. And his growing familiarity with the surrounding asteroid-belt and the routes to and fro, made him all the more certain in his steering – ensuring that his shipments were always on time, and often ahead at that, without straining the engines of his aging shuttle.

It was thanks to the regularity and profitability of this route that the Star of Relief and its golden-haired mistress came to mind when, aboard one of the minor transshipment stations in the system, he heard a half-drunk colleague loudly complain about being stuck with a cargo he didn't know what to do with. "Ten Kroot-Hounds, packed neatly in cages and ready to take the fingers off anyone who gets too close... and then the recipient just goes 'What is this? I wanted Krootox! These are too small to ride!' He refused to take them, refused to pay... but the shipper insists that the order was for Kroot-Hounds, and refuses to take them back! What am I supposed to do?! I don't even know what you're supposed to feed that kind of xenos scum, and if they starve before this gets sorted out, the shipper will hold me responsible and drag me to court! I'm finished..."

Taking pity on this blubbering wreck of a fellow shipper, Carlos approached him with a suggestion... "What if there was someone who did want Kroot-Hounds, and you just delivered them there? As long as they're paid for, the shipper won't care, right?" His mild suggestion that, yes, he did perhaps know someone who'd be willing to buy a shipment of Kroot-Hounds, brought a glimmer of hope to the other shippers' eye – but, when he tried to rise, his foot slipped and he sat down heavily again, spilling the bottle of cheap amasec he'd been working his way through. Blinking in confusion, he righted the bottle, then grimaced. "I'm too drunk to fly anywhere now..." he declared with remarkable self-awareness, before looking pleadingly up at Carlos. "Please... just take them off my hands, and deliver 'em to your contact yourself. You can keep the whole commission, just as long as I get enough thrones to pay the shipper for the value of the cargo! I trust ya, Carlos. You're a straight shooter..."

He was mumbling something about 'best friends' and 'love you man...' as Carlos left with the card-key for his shuttle and, with some effort and promises of drinks, convinced some of the dockhands who were playing dice near it to help him transfer the caged Kroot-hounds to his own hold. The beasts weren't quite as ferocious-looking as those Laceraxes he'd been carrying last time he shipped living cargo to The Star of Relief, but they certainly looked sleek and deadly. Four-legged, the size of a large dog, grey-green... with a rather creepy, beaked face more reminiscent of a bird of prey than a canine, and a large cluster of spikes, or perhaps spines, crowning their hunched shoulders. More concerning, they seemed... smarter than any of the xenobeasts he'd transported in the past, with their beady little eyes glaring at him as they were moved onto his ship.

At least they were also smart enough to know that they couldn't gnaw their way through the bars of their transport-cages, so they didn't bother trying – saving him from the kind of concerning noises that had plagued him on that previous journey. Indeed, the trip itself was perfectly routine – he could've done it in his sleep – with the only difference being the way the liveried servants in the asteroid's voidbay jumped up in confusion as he drove his shuttle inside and settled it on the landing-pad.

Their immediate assumption seemed to be that a delivery-notification had somehow gone astray – they were, after all, used to seeing him by then – but he quickly reassured them before they could start apologizing for their unreadiness. "I've stumbled on a shipment of Kroot-Hounds, you see... the intended recipient don't want them after all, it seems. So, I thought that maybe your Lady might be interested, since she seems to like collecting odd beasties and such?" The servants seemed rather taken aback by this suggestion, judging it 'most irregular' for him to just show up unannounced to try and sell a shipment, like some kind of traveling peddler... but, as Carlos had somewhat suspected, it appeared that they'd been ordered to treat him politely after that last debacle, so they clearly didn't feel comfortable with just telling him off and sending him packing, either.

"I'll send a message to the Mistress..." the head servant declared, somewhat resignedly, as he bent over the vox, pressing buttons and listening intently. A few minutes later, he straightened up with a bemused expression. "It seems the Mistress may in fact be interested! She's sending Lady Mariessa to inspect the cargo and make arrangements if necessary..." And sure enough, after a fairly short span of time, the lady-in-waiting he'd seen with the Lady Montegrande before, turned up – as handsomely dressed as ever, and rather less demure now that she was out from under the gaze of her Mistress. Carlos readily opened the hold for her, and she looked over the caged creatures with a remarkably knowledgeable mien.

"They look rather hungry, but otherwise in good health!" The aristocratic young woman finally declared with a nod, before turning towards Carlos with a somewhat conspiratorial attitude. "You know, my Lady has been in two minds about whether or not to acquire some of these for a while..." she declared in a low voice, apparently not wanting it to carry to the servants who were hanging back at a respectful distance – whether from her, or the hungry xenobeasts. "On the one hand, they're interesting critters, but on the other, the Kroot's willingness to hire themselves out as mercenaries means that they're pretty widely distributed, so hardly exotic or rare... pests, some would call them." She shrugged, glancing at the creatures again, seemingly unconcerned by the way they met her eyes. "It seems that your offer made up her mind for her."

Good news indeed, as far as Carlos was concerned. His buddy would get the money for the shipping-company, and he would earn a few thrones worth of commission as usual. However, there was a slight wrinkle, which the Lady Mariessa delivered with a strangely mischievous smile. "My Lady wishes to pay you personally, as well as thank you for this unexpected but welcome delivery... come, I'll show you to her." The servants seemed rather shocked, but Carlos just shrugged and nodded. If the highborn lady wanted to personally hand him the thrones, he had no complaints about that – he could afford to spend the time to go meet her in person, and it would be unreasonable to expect her to come see him, right? She was a noble, after all.

Besides, he'd always been mildly curious about what the asteroid looked like inside – all he'd ever seen of it was the gilded front entrance, and the rather well-worn and utilitarian rear entrance that he always delivered his goods to. What lay beyond the compact voidbay was unknown to him – but now, it seemed, he was about to find out, guided by the lady-in-waiting with the lopsided smile and the swaying hips. At first, it didn't seem very impressive – he followed her through wide passages meant for moving cargo, then down narrowed side-paths with rooms on either side. Bunk-rooms, kitchens, showers, laundry-rooms... all with servants busily working in them, or enjoying brief rests on their bunks. Not that different from the handful of waystations he often visited around the system, albeit quite a bit cleaner!

Then, however, they stepped through a door – and into a different world. A world of gold filigree and purple velvet, lit by soft lights and filled with the scent of obscura-smoke and upmarket amasec. This was the actual club, Carlos realized as he looked around curiously – this was what nobles and aristocrats sailed here in their pleasure-yachts to experience. He could see at least two dozen such illustrious personages in the room he'd entered, of both genders and various ages – spread around various elegant couches, divans, snack-tables and hookahs – along with twice as many servants, easily...

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PREVIEW ENDS - if you want to know what Carlos saw and experienced in that club, check out the full version of the story at my free Discord-server, link is on the front page.