Rogue Trader, Season 3: You Can(not) Profit

"I need to tell you something. Please listen, and try *not* to panic. You've been recovering from the Dread Pearl incident for... quite some time. Yes, yes, I know -- you want to know how long. I'm afraid it's been... three years."

It's the Imperial year 40,296 -- three years after the Dread Pearl incident.

Lord-Captain van Hohenheim has returned, wealthier still, to Verloren. From here he has commanded people to manage the expansion of his colony world and most importantly his own personal estate on the planet's surface, Meridian Falls.

His research into the silver ship that took his family and his flagship continues, throwing up the occasional old voidfarer's tale about phantom vessels along the borders of the Calixis sector.

Being the last of his line has been on the Lord-Captain's mind lately, and he has taken steps to remedy this by making inquiries about potential bachelorettes in noble Calixis families. This has met with several complications - tales of the "Mad Captain van Hohenheim" are apparently rife within the Orders Famulous in charge of making these matches. Additionally, and much more disturbingly, the Magos has somehow caught wind of this and for what are surely her own abnormal reasons has embarked on her own endeavour to provide the Lord Captain with a suitable partner.

Winter York emerged from the Dread Pearl Affair in a sorry state - this is not particularly abnormal for her, but the unplanned and premature detonation of several grenades on her bandolier confined her bed and then wheelchair rest for the better part of 18 months.

Having lost her arm, leg, and most of her skin to the explosion, Winter has gently led through the rehabilitation process by the caring* touch of the Magos, who replaced the missing limbs with chromed, skeletal bionics, and the skin with vat-grown replacement tissue. Her time confined to the wheelchair has given her time to read, reflect, and develop her telepathy and telekinesis skills to new and even more dangerous heights.

"Why were we born? Just to suffer? Every night, I can feel my leg... And my arm, even my fingers... The dynamite body I've lost... The boobs I've lost... won't stop hurting... It's like they're all still there. You see it too, don't you? I'm going to make them give back my good looks!"

Season three is just beginning. The Emperor's favor will see us through these times of strife, and I'm running out of credit with the Big E.

Part I: Coming In From The Cold

Part II: The Ties That Bound Us

Part III: Proditum Memorae

Part IV: For Those Who Went Before

Part V: Reckoning