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Dark Heresy - Agents of the Inquisition
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<blockquote data-quote="Lothred" data-source="post: 4335189" data-attributes="member: 41722"><p><strong>Things go bump in the night</strong></p><p></p><p>Ophelia moved swiftly into the growing crowd outside the habstack, a small cruel smile flitting across her lips. She would make sure that Lili boarded the rail car safely, but she would some fun first. The assassin slipped through the thronging masses, pulling a tattered scarf over her hair and holding her overcoat tighter around her, becoming just another prole on her way home from another dreary day of toil and labor. As Ophelia wormed her way toward Lili, she noticed the frightened girl glance behind her, as though afraid of being followed. Perfect, she thought. Moving to the right, so as to be within Lili’s line of sight, she waited until the next time the girl looked back. As Lili’s gaze swept over her, Ophelia’s lips curled back in a cruel sneer, while one nimble, long-nailed finger drew slowly across her throat. Lili’s face drained of all color, becoming as white as a ghost. She turned and ran, pushing people out of her way as she raced as fast as she could toward the railhead and safety. Ophelia followed, falling behind as the growing crowd pushed against her. </p><p> </p><p>Not wanting to draw attention, the assassin contented herself with keeping Lili in sight as she continued to follow the girl. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed several Enforcers wandering through the crowd. Even though the street was at this time packed near to bursting, each Enforcer was surrounded by a two-meter clearing, as though the people were afraid to pass too near. Oddly enough, although two or three of these men were close enough to notice the disruption that Lili caused as she passed, the only notice that they seemed to take was to glance at each other, shrug unconcernedly, and continue meandering aimlessly. Ophelia frowned slightly to herself. In her experience, such a disturbance should, at the least, have instigated at least a cursory investigation. Something was off here. She would have to remember to mention this to Lazerus. If anyone would know how a lawman should act, he would.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, the railhead hove into view. Ophelia could see a car just pulling up to the platform where Lili waited with a few other pathetic figures. The assassin mingled at the edge of the crowd, waiting. As the girl boarded the car, she turned for one last look at the hive Division where she had lived her entire life, and from which her last family member disappeared. Ophelia could not resist one final torment. She darted across the platform, skidding to a halt in front of the rail car doors which were shuddering closed. The assassin looked Lili in the eye and hissed “I’ll be sure to give your best to your brother’s corpse, void-waste.” The look of horror on the girl’s face lifted Ophelia’s spirits to no end.</p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, the other acolytes had gathered in Saul’s chamber and were discussing the best way to proceed with the investigation. Ishmael had keyed the dataslate live with a scrolling map of the area, including icons marking buildings of particular interest. “It appears that, owing to the general decline in the area, there are few locations to visit. I have identified the following as possible investigatory avenues. First, there is the local Enforcer station. I believe that we could wrap this up quite quickly by simply ordering the locals, in the name of the Inquisition, to turn over all relevant records to us. A day or two, no more, and we should be have ample information to focus our investigation. What?”</p><p> </p><p>This last question was directed toward the rest of the group in general, each of which was staring, openmouthed. </p><p> </p><p>Tauron was the first to recover his wits. “Din't ye’ heer th' 'Terrrogator, tech-hed? We're s'posed t' be discreet. Ah thinks that rules out enny notions o' 'In the name o' the Inqueerzishun' nonsense.”</p><p> </p><p>As the other Acolytes slowly nodded their assents, the Tech-Priest's face acquired a puzzled look, as though he truly didn't understand the others' objections on some fundamental level. He shrugged and returned to studying the dataslate.</p><p> </p><p>Eli spoke up at this point. “I say that we should mingle with the locals, spread some scrip around, and try to pick up any bits of information that they should happen to let drop.”</p><p> </p><p>“An excellent plan, Eli.” The Guardsman seemed to brighten a bit at the Arbitrator's praise. “In fact, I think we should try to get out among the locals as soon as possible. Why don't the three of us,” he continued, indicating himself, Eli and Tauron, “head out now. Ishmael, I think that you might just stick out a bit more than the rest of us, so why don't you wait here, secure this room for our use as a base of operations while we are here, and await Ophelia's return? I'm sure there is more to be gleaned from the gadgets that Interrogator Sand has gifted us with, and you are the one to mine their depths.”</p><p> </p><p>The Tech-Priest seemed salved by Lazerus' words, and agreed to work on returning some sense of order to the hab chamber while he waited for Ophelia. The other three headed down the stairs and out into the marketplace of Coscarla.</p><p> </p><p>As the three men neared the open-air stalls demarking the boundary of the marketplace, they split up, each heading toward a different corner. Eli made a beeline for a scrap metal dealer, Tauron headed for a stall that appeared to hold appliances in all manner of disrepair, and Lazerus angled toward a food peddler. The three men circulated for a couple of hours, coin was spent or given, and information gained in return. Eventually, they all heard the three clicks on their hand-held vox units that signalled time to regroup at Habstack 7-17.</p><p> </p><p>Back in Saul Arbest's room, the group recounted what they had learned. Eli regaled the party with a tale heard from a worn-down woman, a tale of woe and misery that has been ongoing since the Tantalus Combine pulled out of Coscarla, taking most of the money and opportunity with it. Most of the other people, he said, had similar tales. Tauron's story was somewhat more useful. He gathered from talking to some reclaimators that there is a “black pit” toward the north end of the division that caved in during a fire a year or so back. The locals that he had spoken with seemed to feel that all the evil in the area flowed from the pit. Lazerus had more success yet, the years of gathering information from people who did not even know they possessed it standing him in good stead in this venture. The locals talked more openly with food in their bellies, and two topics kept coming up in his discreet questioning. The first nugget was that there were...things that came in the dark and seemed to be connected with the increasing number of citizens who have disappeared lately. The second avenue of investigation that was opened was that, apparently, the place to be for someone looking for illicit trade was the “Third Tantalus Worker's Union”, a bar and gathering place that had attempted to separate the workers from what little money they would manage to scrape together. Since the Combine's withdrawal from the area, the Worker's Union had suffered along with the rest of the area and was now the haunt of “Chord” Luntz, the local crime boss. Armed with this information, the Acolytes decided on their next course of action.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah'd sure like t' take a look at this pit I heerd 'bout” opined Tauron. “Might jes' be there's sum tracks could be follered, iffen a man put his eyes on 'em.”</p><p> </p><p>Eli spoke up next. “I am more interested in these stories of monsters in the dark. If they are indeed connected to the disappearance of local citizens, it could be that they might lead us to those responsible for Saul's modifications.”</p><p> </p><p>“I also am intrigued by these snatchers,” Ophelia piped up. “Perhaps one with the proper skills could follow one of them to their lair. One such as myself, naturally.” The other Acolytes rolled their eyes as the Assassin struck a series of poses with her sword, her attempts at grace and intimidation appearing more uncomfortable than anything.</p><p> </p><p>“Excellent ideas, all, but I am thinking about taking a different route. In my experience, no one knows more about what is truly happening in an area than the man who works the hardest at promoting that area's decay. I would like to speak with this Luntz, and I think I might just know how to do it.” The others listened to his plan, in the end agreeing that it was the best chance at gathering maximum information quickly and quietly. </p><p> </p><p>“In that case,” said the Arbitrator, standing and looping his shotgun over his shoulder, “I'll be off. You guys be careful, you hear? We still don't know exactly what we're dealing with here, so keep a guard tonight. See you tomorrow at the marketplace.”</p><p> </p><p>Lazerus headed out the door and down the stairs, as Eli and Tauron likewise rose and made to leave. Ishmael spoke as they reached the door. “Do not forget to be back before dark sets in. According to the local power grid, the lights dim in less than two hours, and will be turned off approximately one hour after that. From all accounts, it sounds like being caught outside after dark would be a bad thing indeed.”</p><p> </p><p>The two Guardsmen smiled to each other. No bogeymen were going to scare a couple of combat veterans, even if the only combat that one of them had been exposed to consisted of what boiled down to a bar fight and a gang of punks. </p><p> </p><p>Lazerus made his way to the Worker's Union, a building eerily reminiscent, albeit on a slightly larger scale, of the Rusty Rivet, the downhive bar where the Arbitrator's first exposure to the Inquisition had come. The thought made him grin, perhaps this was a good omen. As he pushed open the bullet-ridden steel door, Lazerus schooled his face into a sterner mien, as he instinctively felt that joviality was not a common emotion in this place. His gut feeling seemed to be right on, as his first impression was a stink of unwashed floors, unwashed dishes, and unwashed humanity. The few patrons that could be bothered to turn and gaze at the establishment's latest entrant did so more out of a desire to size him up for a working-over than for any human curiosity. Lazerus made his way up to the bar, pushed a passed-out drunk off of his stool to crumple in a heap on the floor, and took the recently vacated seat. The bartender grunted in mild amusement as he set a grubby glass in front of Lazerus and asked “What'll it be, then? Joiliq is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“A double, and leave the bottle.” With that, the Arbitrator passed the barman a folded Imperial scrip note, a smaller piece of paper folded inside. The barman took the money, examined the scrap of paper before wadding it up and stuffing it in his pocket, and said “Might be a while, there, boyo. Busy man and all, don't you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“I'll wait,” was the reply, and with that Lazerus turned on the stool to survey the bar, the untouched glass and bottle sitting on the bartop nearby. After nearly an hour, a tough-looking fellow with a crude prosthetic jaw approached. </p><p> </p><p>“Boss'll see ya now. C'mon.”</p><p> </p><p>Lazerus nodded his thanks to the barman and followed the hood, his hand slipping into his pocket and sliding comfortably into his brass knuckles. No one survives long on the streets of a hive by trusting blindly, especially when meeting any kind of crime boss, gang leader, or other low-life. As expected, the tough led Lazerus up some stairs in the back, down a hall, and toward a door guarded by another thug, this one looking like a mishap at a genetic lab. Misshapen features scrutinized the Arbitrator, and nodded toward the shotgun slung over Lazerus' shoulder. “Let's have the boom-stick, fella,” said the thug in a surprisingly normal voice. “Pat him down, Felekr.”</p><p> </p><p>The thug with the iron jaw patted Lazerus down, taking his knife and nightstick in addition to the shotgun, leaving them all in a pile outside of the door. As hoped, he missed the knuckle-dusters that the Arbitrator managed to keep concealed in his left hand. “In you go, buddy. And your story better be good, the boss ain't in too good a mood lately.” With that, the misshapen thug opened the door behind him, which was obviously armored on the inside, and gestured the Arbitrator inside.</p><p> </p><p>Upon entering, Lazerus took in as much of his surroundings as he could, noting the cheap furniture, poorly-disguised safe, and possible camera or murderhole locations before turning his attention to the man behind the improbably large desk. “Chord” Luntz, crime boss of Coscarla Division, was not much to behold, as was the case with most of his ilk. A beefy frame supported a piggy face, rolls of flesh hanging like jowls, and greasy black hair lay slicked back from a prominent forehead. Silver and iron rings decorated his sausage-like fingers, and numerous tin and copper “badges”, doubtless recounting kills he had made in his rise to the top, peppered his tunic, which he no doubt felt to be a work of finery. Lazerus, who had been born into a minor noble family in a hive not dissimilar to Sibellus, had to restrain himself from laughing in the man's face. Instead, he inclined his head slightly, not giving Luntz the satisfaction of making him wait. One tactic that worked to great effect was to put these kind of scum off their game by taking the lead.</p><p> </p><p>“Luntz. My name is Ranald. Talk is you're the man to see about freelance employment in this area. Waddya think, you need another hand?”</p><p> </p><p>Luntz's fleshy face reddened at the newcomer's audacity. Then a sly smile crept across his face as he considered the man in front of him, who was casually lighting a lho-stick and obviously awaiting an answer.</p><p> </p><p>“I'll say one thing for ye, lad, ye either got a big ol' set of brass ones, or else ye ain't right in the head. I think I could use a lad like you, now that I think of it. Any special talents ye might have, then? And where do ye come from, anyway? Ye're not from around here, I can tell that right off.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ranald” seemed to consider the question for a moment, squinting at Luntz through a haze of blue smoke. “I'm from uphive a bit, but the heat was getting a little too much, so I moved down here for a spell. As for talents, well, let's just say my specialty was making problems go away. Permanently.”</p><p> </p><p>“I read ye just fine, son. I think ye'll do fine here. You don't mind if I start you off with something easy, so I can keep me eye on ye, do ye?”</p><p> </p><p>“So long as I'm getting paid, I don't much care what you want done. I don't clean privies, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Luntz laughed, a wet, phlegmy sound escaping his throat. “Ye'll do fine, all right, lad. Tell you what, how about we start you off as a bouncer downstairs here in the Union? Pay is 5 gelt a day, plus free drink and lodging. Ye'll have to share a room, of course, but Felekr here is out most of the time anyway. Deal?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ranald” spat on his palm and held it out. “Deal.”</p><p> </p><p>********************************</p><p> </p><p>Eli and Tauron had made their way to the north end of the division, passing several abandoned and burned-out buildings along the way. A couple of dregs, likely narco-users and other degenerates, had approached the duo, but a couple of aggressive moves sent these scum running from the two professional soldiers. Now that they had reached the black pit, they saw why the locals had so named it. No other words could quite describe the sight before them, a huge dark crater marking the previous location of a hab-stack. All around the area, ash and debris created a field that by all rights should have been a tracker's dream, but despite the two men's best efforts, no clues could be found. Tauron, raised from birth to track game and foes, finally threw up his hands in disgust.</p><p> </p><p>“Ain't nuthin' here but a waste o' our time. Ain't no evil here, ain't no monster neither. Less head back, boy, looks like the lights're goin' down ennyway.”</p><p> </p><p>Eli looked up and saw that the older soldier was right, the dusk cycle had started. According to Ishmael, they now had somewhat less than an hour to make it back to the hab-stack before full dark and, according to the locals anyway, the monsters came out in the dark.</p><p> </p><p>******************************</p><p> </p><p>Lazerus ushered the last of the patrons out of the Worker's Union with a quarter hour left before dark fell for the night over Coscarla. He pulled the door to and righted some fallen chairs, and a table or two. The barman, Padraig, was picking up the last of the glasses and other serving vessels, so Lazerus told him he was going outside to get some air and a smoke before turning in for the night.</p><p> </p><p>“All right, boyo, but don't go far. Ye'll be safe enough in the light over the front door, but don't leave the light. I mean it, don't leave the light.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, okay, I'll stay in the light. Anyway, don't lock me out, will ya? I'll be back inside in a couple of minutes.”</p><p> </p><p>The Arbitrator stepped outside, making sure the door was closed behind him. He lit a lho-stick and fished out his hand vox. Time to check in with the rest of the team. As he prepared to call in, he noticed how utterly dark the area actually was. He could see nothing more than 10 feet from the door of the Union, except for a splash of light way off in the southwest. He keyed the vox unit three times, short-long-long, and waited until he heard the answering long-short-long. So everyone was there and still safe. The pre-arranged emergency signal was six shorts. Lazerus removed the lho-stick and raised the vox to his mouth. “Badge to group. How's it hanging guys?”</p><p> </p><p>Eli's voice came over the link, scratchy and tinny from the cheap-looking unit. “Everything's fine here, nothing to report. Black Hole is a bust. Get anything good?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, plenty of juicy to go around. See you in the morning. Sleep tight and don't let the body snatchers bite.” As he turned to go back inside, Lazerus swore he could see some movement in the dark, and what looked like a couple of red pinpricks staring back at him from the night. Time to head inside after all. He flicked the butt of the lho-stick toward the shadows and went inside the Union, locking the door behind him.</p><p> </p><p>*********************************</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you too. Night.” Eli put down his hand vox and turned to the others. “Sounds like we should try to get some rest tonight. I'll stand first watch if you want.”</p><p> </p><p>The others quickly assented and moved to the makeshift sleeping pallets that they had arranged, except for Ophelia, who had claimed the bed for her own. The night passed quietly, each of the Acolytes taking a turn to stand watch, until the small hours of the morning. Ophelia was standing watch, and fuming at the interruption to her needed rest. Didn't the others understand that she <em>required</em> adequate rest to perform at her peak efficiency?</p><p> </p><p><em>no, they don't understand no one understands they all want you to fail</em></p><p> </p><p>Where had that thought come from? Ophelia looked out the window, shaking her head to clear it. Slight movement in the shadows caught her eye, and she immediately moved to wake the others.</p><p> </p><p><em>let them sleep it will serve them right to be caught unawares you can carry the glory of the kill yourself do not wake them you want to kill the intruder yourself you want to feel its blood you want</em></p><p> </p><p>“No!” Ophelia jumped at the sound of her own voice, her cry waking the two Guardsmen who sprang up immediately, weapons at the ready. </p><p> </p><p>“What is it?” Eli whispered to her.</p><p> </p><p>“I saw movement out the window, and hush! I hear something coming up the stairs. Sounds like...two bodies.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, let's get ready, and wake up Ishmael, will you?”</p><p> </p><p>Ophelia moved to the Tech-Priest as Eli and Tauron took up their prearranged positions, Eli in the corner of the room to the side of the door and Tauron behind the bed, which he quickly and quietly upended to form a rapid barricade in another corner. As she stood over the sleeping Tech-Priest the thought came unbidden to her mind.</p><p> </p><p><em>it would be so easy just slit the throat and let the blood drain away the beautiful blood watch it run over your hands</em></p><p> </p><p>The Assassin tossed her head violently, willing the voice to be silent, and shook Ishmael awake. “Intruders, take up your position.”</p><p> </p><p>Ishmael nodded and moved to the water closet, drawing his laspistol as he did so. Ophelia looked to the others and saw that they were also preparing for ranged combat, Eli with his lasrifle aimed at the door and Tauron sighting through the sight on his long-las. Sighing at their foolishness, Ophelia likewise drew her laspistol, but also readied her sword. Close work was ahead, she could feel.</p><p> </p><p>Soon enough, she heard two sets of footsteps, the slap of bare feet rather than the stomp of boots, stop outside the door to the chamber. All four Acolytes braced themselves, then a mighty crash knocked the already damaged door from it's hinges. A monstrous shape filled the doorway, before leaping into the room, followed by another grotesque. The only parts of them that were clearly seen were pinpricks of red light showing out from where their eyes should be.</p><p> </p><p>All four Acolytes opened fire, Ishmael also unveiling a chem-light to give them some visibility, quickly dropping one of the monstrosities before the second leapt toward Eli, lashing out at him with powerful clubbing blows from a fist that seemed shod in metal. Eli dropped his lasrifle as useless against something this close and pulled his laspistol, a wild shot glancing off the thing's leg. Ophelia and Ishmael closed to surround the creature, standing just out of melee range and firing las rounds at the creature. The rounds seemed to have little effect though, as though it were wearing some form of armor that the Acolytes could not make out in the near dark. Even Tauron's long-las seemed to barely harm the creature, the pain causing the beast to roar in anger and redouble it's efforts to crush Eli, who it had pinned in the corner.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, Tauron leapt over the bed he was sheltering behind, saying “Throne dammit, Ah'll have t' do this th' easy way affer all.” The grizzled Guardsman left behind his rifle, instead drawing out a meter-long machete, dulled against the light. He charged in just as the monster raised a fist to pummel Eli, his blade's monomolecular edge cleaving through muscle, flesh, sinew, bone, and iron to lop off the thing's arm midway between shoulder and elbow. The return stroke removed the creature's head and it dropped to the ground.</p><p> </p><p>All stood silent for a minute, heavy breathing the only sounds to be heard, before Eli cleared his throat. “Thank you, Tauron. Throne knows he almost had me there. I owe you one.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ain't nuthin' son. Don' nobody owe me nuthin'.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I suppose I should try to get some samples from them while we have a chance to breathe, should I not?” The Tech-Priest was already kneeling over the creature that Tauron had cleaved, tut-tutting to himself. “Next time, try not to traumatize the head so much, will you? I don't know what I'll be able to find after the mess you've made of them.” Ishmael looked up at the others who were staring at him in disbelief. </p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lothred, post: 4335189, member: 41722"] [b]Things go bump in the night[/b] Ophelia moved swiftly into the growing crowd outside the habstack, a small cruel smile flitting across her lips. She would make sure that Lili boarded the rail car safely, but she would some fun first. The assassin slipped through the thronging masses, pulling a tattered scarf over her hair and holding her overcoat tighter around her, becoming just another prole on her way home from another dreary day of toil and labor. As Ophelia wormed her way toward Lili, she noticed the frightened girl glance behind her, as though afraid of being followed. Perfect, she thought. Moving to the right, so as to be within Lili’s line of sight, she waited until the next time the girl looked back. As Lili’s gaze swept over her, Ophelia’s lips curled back in a cruel sneer, while one nimble, long-nailed finger drew slowly across her throat. Lili’s face drained of all color, becoming as white as a ghost. She turned and ran, pushing people out of her way as she raced as fast as she could toward the railhead and safety. Ophelia followed, falling behind as the growing crowd pushed against her. Not wanting to draw attention, the assassin contented herself with keeping Lili in sight as she continued to follow the girl. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed several Enforcers wandering through the crowd. Even though the street was at this time packed near to bursting, each Enforcer was surrounded by a two-meter clearing, as though the people were afraid to pass too near. Oddly enough, although two or three of these men were close enough to notice the disruption that Lili caused as she passed, the only notice that they seemed to take was to glance at each other, shrug unconcernedly, and continue meandering aimlessly. Ophelia frowned slightly to herself. In her experience, such a disturbance should, at the least, have instigated at least a cursory investigation. Something was off here. She would have to remember to mention this to Lazerus. If anyone would know how a lawman should act, he would. Finally, the railhead hove into view. Ophelia could see a car just pulling up to the platform where Lili waited with a few other pathetic figures. The assassin mingled at the edge of the crowd, waiting. As the girl boarded the car, she turned for one last look at the hive Division where she had lived her entire life, and from which her last family member disappeared. Ophelia could not resist one final torment. She darted across the platform, skidding to a halt in front of the rail car doors which were shuddering closed. The assassin looked Lili in the eye and hissed “I’ll be sure to give your best to your brother’s corpse, void-waste.” The look of horror on the girl’s face lifted Ophelia’s spirits to no end. Meanwhile, the other acolytes had gathered in Saul’s chamber and were discussing the best way to proceed with the investigation. Ishmael had keyed the dataslate live with a scrolling map of the area, including icons marking buildings of particular interest. “It appears that, owing to the general decline in the area, there are few locations to visit. I have identified the following as possible investigatory avenues. First, there is the local Enforcer station. I believe that we could wrap this up quite quickly by simply ordering the locals, in the name of the Inquisition, to turn over all relevant records to us. A day or two, no more, and we should be have ample information to focus our investigation. What?” This last question was directed toward the rest of the group in general, each of which was staring, openmouthed. Tauron was the first to recover his wits. “Din't ye’ heer th' 'Terrrogator, tech-hed? We're s'posed t' be discreet. Ah thinks that rules out enny notions o' 'In the name o' the Inqueerzishun' nonsense.” As the other Acolytes slowly nodded their assents, the Tech-Priest's face acquired a puzzled look, as though he truly didn't understand the others' objections on some fundamental level. He shrugged and returned to studying the dataslate. Eli spoke up at this point. “I say that we should mingle with the locals, spread some scrip around, and try to pick up any bits of information that they should happen to let drop.” “An excellent plan, Eli.” The Guardsman seemed to brighten a bit at the Arbitrator's praise. “In fact, I think we should try to get out among the locals as soon as possible. Why don't the three of us,” he continued, indicating himself, Eli and Tauron, “head out now. Ishmael, I think that you might just stick out a bit more than the rest of us, so why don't you wait here, secure this room for our use as a base of operations while we are here, and await Ophelia's return? I'm sure there is more to be gleaned from the gadgets that Interrogator Sand has gifted us with, and you are the one to mine their depths.” The Tech-Priest seemed salved by Lazerus' words, and agreed to work on returning some sense of order to the hab chamber while he waited for Ophelia. The other three headed down the stairs and out into the marketplace of Coscarla. As the three men neared the open-air stalls demarking the boundary of the marketplace, they split up, each heading toward a different corner. Eli made a beeline for a scrap metal dealer, Tauron headed for a stall that appeared to hold appliances in all manner of disrepair, and Lazerus angled toward a food peddler. The three men circulated for a couple of hours, coin was spent or given, and information gained in return. Eventually, they all heard the three clicks on their hand-held vox units that signalled time to regroup at Habstack 7-17. Back in Saul Arbest's room, the group recounted what they had learned. Eli regaled the party with a tale heard from a worn-down woman, a tale of woe and misery that has been ongoing since the Tantalus Combine pulled out of Coscarla, taking most of the money and opportunity with it. Most of the other people, he said, had similar tales. Tauron's story was somewhat more useful. He gathered from talking to some reclaimators that there is a “black pit” toward the north end of the division that caved in during a fire a year or so back. The locals that he had spoken with seemed to feel that all the evil in the area flowed from the pit. Lazerus had more success yet, the years of gathering information from people who did not even know they possessed it standing him in good stead in this venture. The locals talked more openly with food in their bellies, and two topics kept coming up in his discreet questioning. The first nugget was that there were...things that came in the dark and seemed to be connected with the increasing number of citizens who have disappeared lately. The second avenue of investigation that was opened was that, apparently, the place to be for someone looking for illicit trade was the “Third Tantalus Worker's Union”, a bar and gathering place that had attempted to separate the workers from what little money they would manage to scrape together. Since the Combine's withdrawal from the area, the Worker's Union had suffered along with the rest of the area and was now the haunt of “Chord” Luntz, the local crime boss. Armed with this information, the Acolytes decided on their next course of action. “Ah'd sure like t' take a look at this pit I heerd 'bout” opined Tauron. “Might jes' be there's sum tracks could be follered, iffen a man put his eyes on 'em.” Eli spoke up next. “I am more interested in these stories of monsters in the dark. If they are indeed connected to the disappearance of local citizens, it could be that they might lead us to those responsible for Saul's modifications.” “I also am intrigued by these snatchers,” Ophelia piped up. “Perhaps one with the proper skills could follow one of them to their lair. One such as myself, naturally.” The other Acolytes rolled their eyes as the Assassin struck a series of poses with her sword, her attempts at grace and intimidation appearing more uncomfortable than anything. “Excellent ideas, all, but I am thinking about taking a different route. In my experience, no one knows more about what is truly happening in an area than the man who works the hardest at promoting that area's decay. I would like to speak with this Luntz, and I think I might just know how to do it.” The others listened to his plan, in the end agreeing that it was the best chance at gathering maximum information quickly and quietly. “In that case,” said the Arbitrator, standing and looping his shotgun over his shoulder, “I'll be off. You guys be careful, you hear? We still don't know exactly what we're dealing with here, so keep a guard tonight. See you tomorrow at the marketplace.” Lazerus headed out the door and down the stairs, as Eli and Tauron likewise rose and made to leave. Ishmael spoke as they reached the door. “Do not forget to be back before dark sets in. According to the local power grid, the lights dim in less than two hours, and will be turned off approximately one hour after that. From all accounts, it sounds like being caught outside after dark would be a bad thing indeed.” The two Guardsmen smiled to each other. No bogeymen were going to scare a couple of combat veterans, even if the only combat that one of them had been exposed to consisted of what boiled down to a bar fight and a gang of punks. Lazerus made his way to the Worker's Union, a building eerily reminiscent, albeit on a slightly larger scale, of the Rusty Rivet, the downhive bar where the Arbitrator's first exposure to the Inquisition had come. The thought made him grin, perhaps this was a good omen. As he pushed open the bullet-ridden steel door, Lazerus schooled his face into a sterner mien, as he instinctively felt that joviality was not a common emotion in this place. His gut feeling seemed to be right on, as his first impression was a stink of unwashed floors, unwashed dishes, and unwashed humanity. The few patrons that could be bothered to turn and gaze at the establishment's latest entrant did so more out of a desire to size him up for a working-over than for any human curiosity. Lazerus made his way up to the bar, pushed a passed-out drunk off of his stool to crumple in a heap on the floor, and took the recently vacated seat. The bartender grunted in mild amusement as he set a grubby glass in front of Lazerus and asked “What'll it be, then? Joiliq is it?” “A double, and leave the bottle.” With that, the Arbitrator passed the barman a folded Imperial scrip note, a smaller piece of paper folded inside. The barman took the money, examined the scrap of paper before wadding it up and stuffing it in his pocket, and said “Might be a while, there, boyo. Busy man and all, don't you know?” “I'll wait,” was the reply, and with that Lazerus turned on the stool to survey the bar, the untouched glass and bottle sitting on the bartop nearby. After nearly an hour, a tough-looking fellow with a crude prosthetic jaw approached. “Boss'll see ya now. C'mon.” Lazerus nodded his thanks to the barman and followed the hood, his hand slipping into his pocket and sliding comfortably into his brass knuckles. No one survives long on the streets of a hive by trusting blindly, especially when meeting any kind of crime boss, gang leader, or other low-life. As expected, the tough led Lazerus up some stairs in the back, down a hall, and toward a door guarded by another thug, this one looking like a mishap at a genetic lab. Misshapen features scrutinized the Arbitrator, and nodded toward the shotgun slung over Lazerus' shoulder. “Let's have the boom-stick, fella,” said the thug in a surprisingly normal voice. “Pat him down, Felekr.” The thug with the iron jaw patted Lazerus down, taking his knife and nightstick in addition to the shotgun, leaving them all in a pile outside of the door. As hoped, he missed the knuckle-dusters that the Arbitrator managed to keep concealed in his left hand. “In you go, buddy. And your story better be good, the boss ain't in too good a mood lately.” With that, the misshapen thug opened the door behind him, which was obviously armored on the inside, and gestured the Arbitrator inside. Upon entering, Lazerus took in as much of his surroundings as he could, noting the cheap furniture, poorly-disguised safe, and possible camera or murderhole locations before turning his attention to the man behind the improbably large desk. “Chord” Luntz, crime boss of Coscarla Division, was not much to behold, as was the case with most of his ilk. A beefy frame supported a piggy face, rolls of flesh hanging like jowls, and greasy black hair lay slicked back from a prominent forehead. Silver and iron rings decorated his sausage-like fingers, and numerous tin and copper “badges”, doubtless recounting kills he had made in his rise to the top, peppered his tunic, which he no doubt felt to be a work of finery. Lazerus, who had been born into a minor noble family in a hive not dissimilar to Sibellus, had to restrain himself from laughing in the man's face. Instead, he inclined his head slightly, not giving Luntz the satisfaction of making him wait. One tactic that worked to great effect was to put these kind of scum off their game by taking the lead. “Luntz. My name is Ranald. Talk is you're the man to see about freelance employment in this area. Waddya think, you need another hand?” Luntz's fleshy face reddened at the newcomer's audacity. Then a sly smile crept across his face as he considered the man in front of him, who was casually lighting a lho-stick and obviously awaiting an answer. “I'll say one thing for ye, lad, ye either got a big ol' set of brass ones, or else ye ain't right in the head. I think I could use a lad like you, now that I think of it. Any special talents ye might have, then? And where do ye come from, anyway? Ye're not from around here, I can tell that right off.” “Ranald” seemed to consider the question for a moment, squinting at Luntz through a haze of blue smoke. “I'm from uphive a bit, but the heat was getting a little too much, so I moved down here for a spell. As for talents, well, let's just say my specialty was making problems go away. Permanently.” “I read ye just fine, son. I think ye'll do fine here. You don't mind if I start you off with something easy, so I can keep me eye on ye, do ye?” “So long as I'm getting paid, I don't much care what you want done. I don't clean privies, though.” Luntz laughed, a wet, phlegmy sound escaping his throat. “Ye'll do fine, all right, lad. Tell you what, how about we start you off as a bouncer downstairs here in the Union? Pay is 5 gelt a day, plus free drink and lodging. Ye'll have to share a room, of course, but Felekr here is out most of the time anyway. Deal?” “Ranald” spat on his palm and held it out. “Deal.” ******************************** Eli and Tauron had made their way to the north end of the division, passing several abandoned and burned-out buildings along the way. A couple of dregs, likely narco-users and other degenerates, had approached the duo, but a couple of aggressive moves sent these scum running from the two professional soldiers. Now that they had reached the black pit, they saw why the locals had so named it. No other words could quite describe the sight before them, a huge dark crater marking the previous location of a hab-stack. All around the area, ash and debris created a field that by all rights should have been a tracker's dream, but despite the two men's best efforts, no clues could be found. Tauron, raised from birth to track game and foes, finally threw up his hands in disgust. “Ain't nuthin' here but a waste o' our time. Ain't no evil here, ain't no monster neither. Less head back, boy, looks like the lights're goin' down ennyway.” Eli looked up and saw that the older soldier was right, the dusk cycle had started. According to Ishmael, they now had somewhat less than an hour to make it back to the hab-stack before full dark and, according to the locals anyway, the monsters came out in the dark. ****************************** Lazerus ushered the last of the patrons out of the Worker's Union with a quarter hour left before dark fell for the night over Coscarla. He pulled the door to and righted some fallen chairs, and a table or two. The barman, Padraig, was picking up the last of the glasses and other serving vessels, so Lazerus told him he was going outside to get some air and a smoke before turning in for the night. “All right, boyo, but don't go far. Ye'll be safe enough in the light over the front door, but don't leave the light. I mean it, don't leave the light.” “Okay, okay, I'll stay in the light. Anyway, don't lock me out, will ya? I'll be back inside in a couple of minutes.” The Arbitrator stepped outside, making sure the door was closed behind him. He lit a lho-stick and fished out his hand vox. Time to check in with the rest of the team. As he prepared to call in, he noticed how utterly dark the area actually was. He could see nothing more than 10 feet from the door of the Union, except for a splash of light way off in the southwest. He keyed the vox unit three times, short-long-long, and waited until he heard the answering long-short-long. So everyone was there and still safe. The pre-arranged emergency signal was six shorts. Lazerus removed the lho-stick and raised the vox to his mouth. “Badge to group. How's it hanging guys?” Eli's voice came over the link, scratchy and tinny from the cheap-looking unit. “Everything's fine here, nothing to report. Black Hole is a bust. Get anything good?” “Yeah, plenty of juicy to go around. See you in the morning. Sleep tight and don't let the body snatchers bite.” As he turned to go back inside, Lazerus swore he could see some movement in the dark, and what looked like a couple of red pinpricks staring back at him from the night. Time to head inside after all. He flicked the butt of the lho-stick toward the shadows and went inside the Union, locking the door behind him. ********************************* “Yeah, you too. Night.” Eli put down his hand vox and turned to the others. “Sounds like we should try to get some rest tonight. I'll stand first watch if you want.” The others quickly assented and moved to the makeshift sleeping pallets that they had arranged, except for Ophelia, who had claimed the bed for her own. The night passed quietly, each of the Acolytes taking a turn to stand watch, until the small hours of the morning. Ophelia was standing watch, and fuming at the interruption to her needed rest. Didn't the others understand that she [I]required[/I] adequate rest to perform at her peak efficiency? [I]no, they don't understand no one understands they all want you to fail[/I] Where had that thought come from? Ophelia looked out the window, shaking her head to clear it. Slight movement in the shadows caught her eye, and she immediately moved to wake the others. [I]let them sleep it will serve them right to be caught unawares you can carry the glory of the kill yourself do not wake them you want to kill the intruder yourself you want to feel its blood you want[/I] “No!” Ophelia jumped at the sound of her own voice, her cry waking the two Guardsmen who sprang up immediately, weapons at the ready. “What is it?” Eli whispered to her. “I saw movement out the window, and hush! I hear something coming up the stairs. Sounds like...two bodies.” “Okay, let's get ready, and wake up Ishmael, will you?” Ophelia moved to the Tech-Priest as Eli and Tauron took up their prearranged positions, Eli in the corner of the room to the side of the door and Tauron behind the bed, which he quickly and quietly upended to form a rapid barricade in another corner. As she stood over the sleeping Tech-Priest the thought came unbidden to her mind. [I]it would be so easy just slit the throat and let the blood drain away the beautiful blood watch it run over your hands[/I] The Assassin tossed her head violently, willing the voice to be silent, and shook Ishmael awake. “Intruders, take up your position.” Ishmael nodded and moved to the water closet, drawing his laspistol as he did so. Ophelia looked to the others and saw that they were also preparing for ranged combat, Eli with his lasrifle aimed at the door and Tauron sighting through the sight on his long-las. Sighing at their foolishness, Ophelia likewise drew her laspistol, but also readied her sword. Close work was ahead, she could feel. Soon enough, she heard two sets of footsteps, the slap of bare feet rather than the stomp of boots, stop outside the door to the chamber. All four Acolytes braced themselves, then a mighty crash knocked the already damaged door from it's hinges. A monstrous shape filled the doorway, before leaping into the room, followed by another grotesque. The only parts of them that were clearly seen were pinpricks of red light showing out from where their eyes should be. All four Acolytes opened fire, Ishmael also unveiling a chem-light to give them some visibility, quickly dropping one of the monstrosities before the second leapt toward Eli, lashing out at him with powerful clubbing blows from a fist that seemed shod in metal. Eli dropped his lasrifle as useless against something this close and pulled his laspistol, a wild shot glancing off the thing's leg. Ophelia and Ishmael closed to surround the creature, standing just out of melee range and firing las rounds at the creature. The rounds seemed to have little effect though, as though it were wearing some form of armor that the Acolytes could not make out in the near dark. Even Tauron's long-las seemed to barely harm the creature, the pain causing the beast to roar in anger and redouble it's efforts to crush Eli, who it had pinned in the corner. Finally, Tauron leapt over the bed he was sheltering behind, saying “Throne dammit, Ah'll have t' do this th' easy way affer all.” The grizzled Guardsman left behind his rifle, instead drawing out a meter-long machete, dulled against the light. He charged in just as the monster raised a fist to pummel Eli, his blade's monomolecular edge cleaving through muscle, flesh, sinew, bone, and iron to lop off the thing's arm midway between shoulder and elbow. The return stroke removed the creature's head and it dropped to the ground. All stood silent for a minute, heavy breathing the only sounds to be heard, before Eli cleared his throat. “Thank you, Tauron. Throne knows he almost had me there. I owe you one.” “Ain't nuthin' son. Don' nobody owe me nuthin'.” “Well, I suppose I should try to get some samples from them while we have a chance to breathe, should I not?” The Tech-Priest was already kneeling over the creature that Tauron had cleaved, tut-tutting to himself. “Next time, try not to traumatize the head so much, will you? I don't know what I'll be able to find after the mess you've made of them.” Ishmael looked up at the others who were staring at him in disbelief. “What?” [/QUOTE]
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