That's No Mutant, It's a Xenos!

Ah, another day in the glamorous life of a Rogue Trader. By which I mean, another day of being shot at, lied to, ambushed, and somehow surviving through a combination of dumb luck, sheer stubbornness, and the fact that our enemies keep underestimating just how little we care for their narrative expectations.

After clearing the voidship of its latest infestation of unpleasantness, we took a well-earned break aboard the Rogue Trader’s command ship. This, of course, involved an exciting tour of the system, where we discovered precisely nothing of interest. Sir Lemming, being a paragon of strategic caution, noted that every possible warp route was marked either yellow ("dangerous") or pulsing orange ("suicidal"). Naturally, we were less than thrilled.

Enter Cassia, our ship’s resident Psyker. "Cassie, my dear," Sir Lemming inquired over the vox, "I don’t like these traffic signals. Is there anything you can do to improve our odds of not being torn apart by the warp?"

Cassia’s response was both reassuring and deeply ominous: "Let me meditate."

Twenty minutes later, a ripple of warp energy pulsed from the ship, and lo and behold, a safe (green!) route appeared on the holo-map. Because nothing says ‘trustworthy navigation’ like arcane sorcery warping reality itself.

Welcome to Janus: Now With 100% More Rebellion

Our next stop was the Telikos Epsilon system, where we were promptly greeted by three hostile destroyers. We dispatched them in the time-honored fashion (explosively), upgraded our hull and weapons, and then made our way to Janus. Janus, a key agricultural world, was meant to supply Footfall with much-needed foodstuffs. This was a simple supply run. How hard could it be?

Famous last words.

The planetary governor greeted us at her palace, and for once, the shuttle ride down was smooth. No attacks, no mid-air explosions, not even a minor hull breach. This should have been a warning sign. Sure enough, just as pleasantries were being exchanged, the rebels ambushed us. The governor’s guards fell swiftly, the governor herself fled into her palace, and we—hardened warriors, strategists, and masters of combat—dove unceremoniously into cover while returning fire.

A nameless sniper picked off two rebels, we slaughtered the rest, and just as we were beginning our victory dance, the north wall exploded. More rebels poured in. Sigh.

They had clearly never faced a foe as stubborn, irritable, and casually homicidal as Sir Lemming and his esteemed band of misfits. We cleaned up the last wave, then went inside to have a "calm and diplomatic chat" with the governor. (Read: Interrogate her for incompetence.)

A Mystery in the Garden

The governor, looking entirely too composed for someone who had just been ambushed, claimed there was plenty of food, but the rebels were shooting down any ships attempting to transport it. Oh, and also, there was a "weird mutant sniper" somewhere on the premises.

We located said sniper in a very serene gazebo. Yrliet Lanaevyss, it turned out, was not a mutant but an Aeldari ranger—so, an alien. Not just any alien, but the terrifyingly competent kind. Sir Lemming, recognizing talent when he saw it (and also probably not wanting her to start sniping us), offered her a job. Jae was sent back to the ship to mind the store, and Yrliet joined our merry band.

Rebels, Secrets, and More Explosions

In a nearby shed, some of the governor’s guards had cornered a wounded rebel. Upon investigation, the "ferocious insurrectionist" turned out to be a terrified kid who spilled the beans: the governor was the real villain, kidnapping people and conducting bizarre ceremonies. The rebels were just trying to stop her. So, we let the kid go and returned to the governor with our new information.

"Oh, how interesting," she said, clearly buying time. "Well, with the general location of the rebel base, perhaps you can scan the planet from orbit and deal with them?"

Translation: "Go kill them, don’t ask questions."

So, we did the scan, pinpointed the rebel stronghold, and executed a mostly successful campaign to break them. Of course, nothing is ever that easy. The final rebel outpost turned out to be another ambush, this time part of an Aeldari plot to retake their so-called "Maiden World." We survived, barely. Pascal went down, Vegetable and Argenta got separated from the group by warp lightning, and Lando—the great and mighty sniper—missed three shots in a row.

Let me just repeat that for emphasis: three. shots. in. a. row.

Yrliet, however, decided that betrayal was not on her agenda today and turned against her Aeldari brethren, proving invaluable in our fight. We took down the enemy psyker with a well-timed grenade (hard to dodge when you can’t see the future through an explosion), made Vegetable run around smacking things, and secured some nice loot.

Now, just one last rebel outpost to clear before we have a long-overdue chat with our suspiciously untrustworthy governor.

Because let’s be honest—we all know how this is going to end.