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The Carbis Incident – Extract

A Black Library Publication

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The Carbis Incident

by Victoria Hayward

‘There are wonders here. Wonders that will change a person, forever.’

Extract from the journal of Haspard Gorgoin, Imperial rogue trader

It took all the control Interrogator Esme Mzinga had not to throw the crew member in front of her to the deck. Mirea Mace was difficult enough in the best of circumstances, and a month of slow void travel in the confines of a drop-ship with the neurotic trapper had been less than ideal.

‘I want to know what the inquisitor isn’t telling us,’ Mace repeated.

‘Shut up, Mace,’ Mzinga said mildly.

‘You must know,’ the pinch-faced woman replied. Mzinga sat back in her chair and coolly regarded the other woman.

‘You’re here as a hired gun, not a tactician. If and when the inquisitor wants your advice, I’m sure he’ll ask for it.’

Mace folded her arms and stared past Mzinga, ignoring the barb. The trapper’s face was pale and gaunt under the strip-lighting of the ship’s mess hall.

‘I don’t see why the Avicula couldn’t have dropped us closer,’ Mace muttered.

Mzinga ran a hand through her braided hair. ‘Because, Mace, as helpful as he was escorting us through the warp, Rex Delorno is exactly the sort of rogue trader we don’t want finding out about this operation.’

Mace didn’t reply. Mzinga leant back in her chair and stared at the bulkhead above her. Emperor’s teeth, she thought. This mission. Patience had never been one of her virtues, as the inquisitor had often pointed out. But then again, that hadn’t been why he recruited her. Just as he hadn’t recruited Mace for her personality. Although anyone who had spent most of her life in the darkness of an underhive tracking ripper jacks and miliasaurs wasn’t going to be the most relaxed travel companion. Mace might be the best marksman in the sector, but she’d been questioning their mission lately, and Mzinga was keeping close watch on her.

The mess hatch swung open, and an enormous man clambered in. He beamed, clattering over to the recaff unit.

‘You’re pleased, Samazan,’ Mzinga said.

Samazan grinned and stretched. ‘We’re finally nearing planetside. You,’ he said, pointing at Mace, ‘can finally stop acting crazy.’

Mace’s face remained masklike for a moment, before she finally cracked a smile. Mzinga breathed a sigh of relief. The jocular Guardsman was able to handle Mace in a way she couldn’t. He was also a professional – brutal, efficient, easy to work with.

‘So, interrogator,’ he said, folding himself to sit at the table. ‘Do we know what we’re going to be shooting yet?’ He slid his pot of recaff across to her. ‘My friend here has a reputation for taking out sump pigs.’

Mace rolled her eyes. ‘You wouldn’t joke if you’d seen the sump pigs on Laurencian.’

Mzinga filled her beaker. ‘Pirates, mostly. Anyone trying to loot this corner of the Domina Sector now the warp storms have receded.’ In truth, she knew little more than they did. It felt like a job for the Imperial Navy, rather than a venerable inquisitor and his retinue. It wasn’t for her to question the wisdom of Inquisitor Venicii, but she wished she knew what was in her mentor’s mind, especially of late.

Samazan rubbed his hands. ‘Music to my ears. And you say it’s a jungle climate? Shame we’re not landing.’

Mzinga nodded. ‘You can take the Guardsman off Catachan–’

‘You know that hundreds of Imperial settlers died on Carbis?’ Mace interrupted. ‘I don’t think we should be going anywhere near it.’

Mzinga stretched out her legs and sighed. ‘You’ve ensured that all of us are aware of the rumours, yes, Mace.’

‘They’re not rumours. It’s a matter of record,’ the woman retorted. ‘The warp storms flared up and cut it off from the Imperium. And they say there are things in this sector. Evil things.’ The trapper touched the prayer beads visible at her neck.

Mzinga’s vox buzzed. She unfolded her tall frame, and made her way to the forward cabin. ‘Evil things are what we deal with. If that comes as a surprise to you, perhaps you should reconsider your position as a member of an Inquisitorial retinue.’

‘You’re not listening. Something’s wrong here. He’s not–’

Mzinga spun around and gave Mace a hard stare. ‘Do you want to reconsider what you’re about to say?’

Mace dropped her gaze.

‘Good,’ Mzinga said, and continued through the ship. Whilst she understood the woman’s edginess, she wasn’t going to tolerate insubordination.

She knocked at the cabin door.

‘Enter,’ came a mechanically enhanced voice.

Inside the sparsely furnished cabin, she found Grieve, the retinue’s med-tech, working on Venicii’s life support system. The crop-haired woman nodded as Mzinga entered.

‘Grieve is making adjustments,’ Venicii stated. ‘The atmosphere on Carbis will be problematic for my systems.’

‘We’re landing?’ Mzinga raised an eyebrow. ‘My understanding was that we were simply repelling pirates.’

Venicii ignored the question. ‘Have you finished?’ he asked the med-tech.

‘I have, sir,’ Grieve said, tucking a las-knife behind her ear. ‘But I’ll need to keep a close eye on things.’

Venicii’s reply crackled through his augmetic voice box. ‘Very well. You may leave us, Medicae Grieve. I have something to show you,’ he said, turning to Mzinga as Grieve gathered her tools and left the cabin.

Mzinga took the battered book that Venicii proffered her.

‘What is this?’ she asked, turning the scarred leather covers to reveal pages of spidery script.

‘The journal of the last person to leave Carbis alive, a century ago.’

Mzinga frowned. ‘I thought everyone was stranded when the warp storms closed in.’

‘The mining settlers were. Haspard Gorgoin, the rogue trader who brought them there, escaped.’

‘How does this help us?’ Mzinga asked. She deliberately kept her tone neutral, but Venicii had known her too long. He regarded her with his piercing blue eyes for a moment. Despite the extensive augmetics that kept his frail form alive, he was still imposing.

‘Because it is the only extant document on Carbis,’ he snapped. ‘You will make a study of the notes and plan our entry point. I’ve marked our destination.’ He paused. ‘You’re frustrated, I know,’ he said. ‘Patience is not a virtue of yours, Esme, and you are wondering why we have come to this Emperor-forsaken corner of the Imperium, and if it best serves our broader mission.’

Mzinga held her face in an amiably blank expression, something she had learned from Venicii himself.

He continued. ‘You are young. You wish to be battling the xenos enemies of mankind. But you think too literally. I have been fighting all of my long life and have come to learn that it is through knowledge that we will undo them.’ Venicii allowed himself a small smile. ‘You will learn that, or you will die. Take the journal. You’ll need it to plot a course. Carbis has an unusual radiation profile and there are limited landing locations. Gorgoin’s notes should help. Take us as close as you can to the centre of the northern continent.’

‘Sir – can I ask what you hope to find?’

Something passed across Venicii’s face and he paused. ‘Remains, Esme. Of an ancient xenos race.’

Mzinga’s expression betrayed her. ‘We’re planning to make planetfall with a crew of five on a xenos world?’

Venicii gave her a sharp stare. ‘Remember your place, interrogator. I have charted more worlds than you have seen days.’

Mzinga nodded, chastened. Their relationship may have been strained of late, but Venicii remained a legend of the Inquisition – he had been dismantling xenos-worshipping covens, thwarting alien warlords, and condemning worlds beyond absolution for centuries. During Mzinga’s service to him alone he had halted an aeldari conspiracy to abduct the ruling families of the Mycrx Cluster, exterminated two hrud infestations, and returned the subjects of the colony of Aesteria to the Emperor’s light after removing the t’au agents responsible for its attempted subversion.

Venicii continued, ‘I expect only traces on Carbis. It’s a primitive world. Gorgoin makes no mention of living creatures having evolved on the planet other than insects. We will complete a survey, but I expect no impediments.’

‘What of the settlers?’

‘If any survive, I’m sure they will be pleased to be welcomed into the Imperium once more.’ He picked up a data-slate. ‘I need you to use the journal to plot astrometry for our landing. The terrain will preclude landing at this site, but I want you to take us as close as possible.

Venicii turned back to his papers and Mzinga knew the audience was over. She left quietly to piece together Gorgoin’s notes.

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