As far as Gormog was concerned, Ephron V was the ugliest planet he had ever seen. The Ogryn placed his enormous hand on the void-proof plexiglass pane he was staring out of and frowned. The Hive World lazily spun along its axis in front of him, mottled grey and black, covered in noxious clouds of greenhouse gases. Many lights dotted its surface and illuminated the clouds from below but they failed to make the planet look any more appealing; if anything, it just looked like Ephron V was slowly burning up from the inside like a smoldering piece of coal. 

He was on an orbital docking station, waiting for Salvius to finish contracting the services of one of the many shuttle pilots waiting to ferry passengers planetside. The station hung in geosynchronous orbit over the Hive World, suspended vertically in outer space. No complicated docking maneuvers were necessary as a ship could simply approach the planet directly, line up next to a docking station and have the magnetic clamps attach to the hull. Gormog would surely have appreciated such ingenuity had he been capable of comprehending it. Alas, the Ogryn was reduced to merely staring at the surface and idly wondered why the planet was on fire. 

Salvius had tried to explain to Gormog why they had traveled to Ephron V. The explanation that had stuck was that the little black bird-skull of Tzeentch could talk, and it had told Salvius to go here. Gormog, being absolutely essential to keeping Salvius alive, was naturally expected to come along. And yes, Khorne was fine with the whole thing. 

After a few minutes -- during which Gormog had developed a sneaking suspicion that the planet in front of him wasn't actually on fire, but merely very shiny -- Salvius called for the Ogryn on his micro-bead. Travel had been arranged. 

The shuttle was, like most everything, unreasonably small for Gormog. Salvius sat with the pilot in the front of the shuttle, where Gormog absolutely couldn't fit. Instead, he sat in the back with the rest of the passengers, all of whom were suitably terrified. Gormog cradled his ripper gun in his lap, slowly polishing the barrel with an oiled cloth, returning every wide-eyed stare with a defensive frown. The staring was not long-lived. 

"Y'know, I just dun see any future with 'er," explained the shuttlepilot while approaching the re-entry angle. "We're apart all the time, barely see each other." Throwing another piece of gum into his mouth, the pilot sank into silence for a short while. "Then again, givin' it all up, startin' afresh... That's dangerous stuff. It'll get ya killed dead or worse. For what?" Another piece of gum disappeared into the grinding teeth, the owner of which had introduced himself earlier as Jelbus. "What'd you do mate?" asked Jelbus. This was a dangerous question to pose Salvius, and a slightly too large grin formed on his face.

Opening his senses to the warp, Salvius inspected the man's presence within it. Jelbus' soul quivered with questions, uncertainties, doubts. But also a tiny hint of excitement. That was the important part. Recalling some of the books he had read on human psychology and social interaction, Salvius changed his voice into something jovial, suggestive of camaraderie. "Let me tell you something about my life, friend Jelbus," Salvius said. "For the longest time, I've had a great interest in acting. Not being one for book studyin' or listening I learned life's lessons by following my heart instead of my reason. Being an actor allowed me to put my everything into reproducing all matter of great fantastical adventures and dreamlike romances... Until I finally decided to make my plays a reality. First, my time with the circus..." Salvius worked the man like a harp, telling him all about his time with the circus, his time with the guard, that time with the Inquisitor. He painted a grand picture in which every character was a little more rebellious, a little more crazy. Slowly kneading, pushing and pulling at the man’s soul, Salvius silenced his doubts and fears and planted the seeds of excitement and wild things. A new gleam had appeared in the  eyes of the pilot. “Even now, me and my companion are looking for a certain… container. It might be a book, or a slate, or a person even… This mission was given to us in the greatest of secrecy by those [i]outside[/i] of imperial law, if you take my meaning. And we could always use some help when you’re ready to burn some bridges. Then I’ll be in touch when I need you. Does that sound reasonable to you?” With an [i]almost[/i] disbelieving look on his face at the identity of their ‘client’, Jelbus agreed. “Remember Jelbus,” said Salvius while exchanging some contact information, “not a word to anyone about this. If our presence got out, it would be inconvenient with a capital I for the client, but even more inconvenient for you.” The final words coincided with the heavy thunk of the shuttle touching down, after which the hatch started to open.

Glad he was finally able to leave the shuttle, Gormog stepped outside, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the glare of the artificial light of the space port. Large, heavy-duty illuminators were aimed at the landing pad and more lights showed the way towards the space port’s terminal. Two transport trucks pulled up to the shuttle, dispersing a small crew that helped the anxious passengers board the vehicles. Gormog was gawked at and a short argument ensued, with one of the crewmembers insisting that the Ogryn would have to pay an extra fee to be transported; an argument that was swiftly ended with a deep, reverberating infrasonic growl. 

The terminal of the space sport was a dazzling, confusing mixture of smells, sights and sounds. Every available surface was covered with lamps and advertisements and the place was loaded to the gills with people; most were travelers, but there were plenty of panhandlers, street vendors and even the occasional preacher. Annoyed, Gormog kept his eyes low and simply followed the historian, clearing a way through the throng of people with a few menacing looks here and there. Back home, on the Feral World where Gormog was born, this much noise and light would have been a terrible idea. There were far more dangerous creatures than Ogryns that stalked the night. Gormog didn’t remember any of that -- because of the amnesia -- but the instincts never left him. 

They had arrived on Ephron V. First order of business; find a place to stay.