Professional Caretaker

"Who goes there?!"

Hades shouted, though he had already briskly gotten up to open the door. A curse came from the other side. "Fuck you!"

"So it's you."

Hades tugged at the corner of his mouth in a smile that did not reach his eyes. One shoulder against the doorframe, he leaned there at an angle and looked at "Trazyn."

Hades was quite certain this fellow had popped out from some unknown corner—perhaps even from the accompanying Magos team, or somewhere aboard the ship.

"What wind blew you here?"

"Ha. Des. You."

Trazyn said calmly, "What. Are. You. Doing?"

Hades first took a moment to reflect on how long it had been since anyone had called his name as casually as Trazyn did. Only then did he address Trazyn's question.

Hades put on a solemn expression.

"Raiding tombs."

"Whose tomb?"

"..."

Hades fell silent for a moment. Behind him, the words Nihilakh Dynasty gleamed ominously on the screen.

Was it too late to claim he was illiterate?

"It would seem..." Hades drawled, "this tomb is related to you, Trazyn?"

"You own this tomb?"

Before Trazyn could speak, Hades beat him to it.

"But I thought—would the tomb world under your command really be this shabby?"

"Of course not!"

Trazyn nearly jumped at Hades's shamelessness, but naturally accepted the compliment with pleasure. Hades stepped aside, and they entered the room together. Hades pulled over another chair.

Trazyn glanced at the planet beyond the porthole. A soft white glow spilled across their feet. This was not its world, though—to be precise, it was a world it was "acting as agent" for.

This tomb world contained a type of Necrontyr pottery, and it had come here to conduct emergency preservation efforts.

"I am temporarily acting in charge of this world."

Trazyn said this