The where of this conspiracy is important.
Yawvin IV is an administrative hub in the centre of a segmentum, on the edge of the Imperium of Man. It is remote and isolated, and is mostly a cluster of mining concerns, deep space exploration to Halo Stars, and archeoxenan work. It is desolate and cold. There are a few larger cities, clustered around the equator. For the most part, the cities themselves are self contained hubs, with black snake roads connected the covered shells that keep out the worst of the cold.
The planet itself barely has a climate. It is cold, no more and no less than that. The fixed rotation of the planet which is idle and dense means there is simply no heat from the dying star it orbits. The planet's surface is unforgiving and banishment from the settlements - a common occurance - is quite simply a death sentence. Any life that does survive on this ball of misery is hostile.
I work within the main administrative hub. I have a desk, an allocated work load and work schedule. I have several juniors to whom I allocate the work load, and am responsible for ensuring we meet the work schedule. We follow, track, and authorize the flow of funds. We monitor who is authorizing the release of funds. We monitor tax contributions. We review requisition orders. I alone have clearance to monitor the higher requests; Arbites, Governor, Segmentum - Inquisitional.
I dress no different to many on this world - a plain black robe, thickly lined with an artificial material that keeps heat in; hardy boots with a thick sole creased with grips and tough laces; skin tight trousers, again made from an artificial material that clings to the skin. In my robe, there is space to conceal a weapon without any noticable outline. This is where my autopistol is hidden. There are thin armoured plates woven into a vest I wear over my torso. My boots are knee high, and have a knife hidden in each. The scabbard for each of the knives contains custom agents for envenoming the blade. The blades themselves are covered in curved micro-needles which, after the cut, sit in the wound infecting it and leaking their deadly load. I prefer fast acting neurotoxins which range in efficacy from rendering my enemy unconscious to those which kill quickly.
My clothing is not standard issue. When performing so many infilitration roles, you learn the art of the tailor quickly or you perish.
I think this world, more than any other I have been on, bleaches the humanity from all who dwell on it. The cold presses onto your flesh when you go outside. Even under the great domes that shield the cities - the sky by the way is always blue - they cannot keep out the cold. It penetrates your flesh stripping out your bones and pulling them through your muscles. It a singularly perculiar and unpleasant sensation.
The reason I am here on this hostile iceball is because someone is embezzling funds. Moreoever, they are embezzling munitions, machinery, minerals, and people.
The invoice is a warning and an intention. Which means I am getting close.
CRimson are predictable.