The Master's Servants (40K)

[Imperial Overlord]

Cool air washes over me as we step into the room, blasting away the hot, metallic smelling stench of the city's air. The waiting room is lined with upholstered chairs designed to allow clients to wait in comfort until Durlec Exsais receives them in person. Two guards, big men with olive skin wearing long heavy ribbed jackets with built in cooling units wait at the next door. The coats are flak armour and both of them wear bulky gloves with sap inserts so they can break bone without bruising their hands. Custom slug throwers ride in quick draw rigs, chromed and set with brass. I feel naked without my Bride.

I do not show my dismay and pass into the empty room. Volgest follows behind me. He's tall and pale, his slender frame bulked up by the heavy cloak and carapace breastplate he wears over thick paramilitary style clothes. The black of his clothes match that of his hair, which falls behind him in a braid with finger bones and silver charms woven into it. Like me he's wearing a long barreled slug pistol on his waist. A thousand different variations of human call Gunmetal City home and all of them are armed.

I walk up to one of the guards. "We have an appointment with your employer." And we paid enough for it too.

"He will be ready for you shortly," says the guard and I retreat to the chairs to wait. Volgest sits down and closes his eyes. We wait.

After a short eternity one of the guards speaks. "He will see you now." I enter, Volgest again trailing in my wake.

Durlec Exsais's office contains the garish excess of the newly rich. Too many offworld furs and too much gold leaf. The air conditioning not only filters the air, but actually makes it chilly in the office, another sign of conspicuous consumption. Two cabinets and a wall display are full of various kinds of guns, each and everyone undoubtedly a status piece in Gunmetal City.

Exsais is a man of ordinary height and pale skin. Lavender and sky blue silks don't quite hide his pot belly or thickening face. His hair is dark and receding. "Gentles," he rumbles, "how can I serve you?"

Volgest opens his satchel and pulls out a sheet of data film. He places it on the table. "We need gang associations for these tattoos."

"Of course gentles," he replies. He quickly types picks up a gold plated scanner and sweeps it over the data film. His cogitator hummed. "Yes, the Blackfire Gang. Lower hive, not quite underhive though. A dangerous bunch."

We expected as much. "Where are they located?" I asked.

"I don't know their precise location, but they are associated with Manufactorium G-6," he replied. "Information about these gangs changes so quickly. If you wish, I can conduct a more detailed investigation." And charge us even more money.

"That will suffice," I replied.

"There is the matter of the balance of payment," he continued.

"Of course," I replied. Volgest stepped forward and withdrew a silicon waffer. A minute later and the tedious details of credit transfer were done.

"A pleasure doing business with you gentles."

"Likewise," said Volgest. We departed the information broker's place of business and returned to the streets of Gunmetal City. We were on a elevated walkway that connected to another walkway by way of raised bridges and tram cars. We were near the base of one of the great towers that rose from the surface of the caldera and whose tops housed the city's elite. The air was hot, thick, and tainted with pollutants. I wore filter plugs in my nose. Volgest went in for a full rebreather which covered the bottom half of his face. Our guide was waiting.

Narcia was almost my height, but I'm not particularly tall. Her hair was short and a probably natural shade of coppery red. She wore tunic and pants of some kind of tough synthetic under a light flak coat festooned with bits of brass, bone, and fur. Each trophy represented a victory in gunfight. A silver aquila medallion hung from her neck and a pair of pistols were holstered in speed draw holsters on her thighs. She came highly recommended.

"Well?" she asked. A Metallican Gunslinger had high status in this gun mad city and she knew the local customs, which would make her a good guide. That the status was earned by shedding blood just ensured she would be useful in a fight and that she wouldn't be easily scared off was a plus.

"Blackfire Gang," I said.

"Never heard of them, but there are a lot of gangs."

"They're located under Manufactorium G-6," I continued.

"Under?" she said. "That means Infernis or close enough. They'll be trouble."

"So are we," I replied. Beneath us millions of human beings surged and teamed. It was nearing shift change in many of the factories that were the focus of Gunmetal City's existence.

"You had better be able to handle yourselves," she said. "I'm always up for a gunfight, but suicide is another thing entirely."

A passing searchlight from a Magistratum security patrol washed over us. Volgest's eyes glowed briefly, a trick of the reflected light, but one that caused Narcia to twitch. Again I missed my Bride, but I still carried some of our Daughters as well as other tools of death. Not that I needed a tool to kill. "You will find us more than capable when it comes down to violence."

[Sidewinder]

The setup sparked my interest. What kind of person is the narrator? An undercover inquisitor? A civilian with an ax to grind?

[Imperial Overlord]

The setup sparked my interest. What kind of person is the narrator? An undercover inquisitor? A civilian with an ax to grind?

I've provided clues. You'll get more in other installments until it gets blazingly obvious.

[Ford Prefect]

What are the chances that this is based upon one of your Dark Heresy games?

[Imperial Overlord]

What are the chances that this is based upon one of your Dark Heresy games?

It isn't. But the idea did come because of it.

[Hawkwings]

Brides. Hmm...

"I feel naked with my Bride."

"Again I missed my Bride"

typo maybe?

[Imperial Overlord]

Brides. Hmm...

"I feel naked with my Bride."

"Again I missed my Bride"

typo maybe?

Yep. Corrected. The Bride does not make an appearance in this story, although the Daughters do.

[Ford Prefect]

Yep. Corrected. The Bride does not make an appearance in this story, although the Daughters do.

Yeah, I'm definitely sticking with this, just so I can find out what sort of weapons he's talking about.

[[R_H]]

Very nice. I found a typo in the first paragraph, I think it should be "break" instead of "brake".

The coats are flak armour and both of them wear bulky gloves with sap inserts so they can brake bone without bruising

[LadyTevar]

Very nice. I found a typo in the first paragraph, I think it should be "break" instead of "brake".

The coats are flak armour and both of them wear bulky gloves with sap inserts so they can brake bone without bruising

Tha's a common typo for ImpO.

[Imperial Overlord]

We descended to the base of the sky climbing towers and into the press of humanity below. Gunmetal City hosted some four billion souls in a huge, sprawling megalopolis. The massive blocks of weapon foundries and hab housing were all around us and the streets and walkways were filled with people and vehicles. Every other block there was rectangular, transparent armourplas enclosure, about three meters wide and fifteen meters long for gunfighting. Star shaped impact points marked the armourplas where high powered rounds had struck the enclosure.

The fumes were thick down here and even hotter. Fortunately my bodyglove included temperature regulatory functions and my filter plugs took the worst of the pollutants out of the air. I hoped.

Our guide went without either. She swaggered down the street, confident that her attitude and her victory fetishes would clear the way for her. They did. She consulted a tram map at a street car station. One slender finger tapped on it. "We need to go here and then to ground," she said. She pointed at an elevated tramway about ten meters off the ground. "That'll get us to the area the fastest."

So we boarded the elevated train. It was in between most shift changes, so the cars weren't crowded. The interior of the cars stank of unwashed humans and oil, but were bearable. The chairs were worn and scarred. Bullet holes were present in two of the windows. Narcia didn't seem to be bothered by it.

After a half hour ride we arrived in the appropriate neighborhood. We pushed our way passed the commuters, one of whom growled at me and put his hand threateningly on his gun until he noticed I was with Narcia, and descended to the streets. A dark haze seemed to hover just above the roofs of the foundries, the product of so much smoke getting thrown into the air and then trapped inside the caldera. The buildings were stained with soot, but in good repair and sported only a few bullet scars.

Volgest was a little shaky coming down the stairs. "You alright?" I asked.

Sweat was beaded on his forehead. "Just tired. The heat's sapping my strength."

"You wore too much."

"I'll remember for next time," he said. Volgest was built like a void born, tall and skinny. He gets cold all the time and he doesn't like it. So he tends to dress on the warm side. It was biting him in the arse now. "Give me a minute and I'll be fine."

"Alright," I said. Narcia had noticed that we had stopped and was waiting about ten meters ahead, her foot tapping impatiently.

"She's eager," said Volgest. "Is that sane?"

"Tough guy syndrome," I replied. "She's female and has more to prove to others when it comes to violence and aggression, especially in a place like this hive." The signs were all there and I had been taught to read them at an early age. Scan each potential ally and foe for weakness. Hide your own. Exploit all vulnerabilities, physical or psychological. Choose your moment. Strike.

"Let's go," he said.

"Are you sure?" I asked. It was far better to go into a dangerous situation with Volgest at full strength if it meant losing a half an hour. We had a half hour to lose.

"Yes," he replied. We walked towards Narcia.

"Heat too much for ya?" she asked with a grin.

"I'm fine," said Volgest. "Just not used to it."

"Well, it gets worse soon so you better get used to it. They don't call it Infernis because its cold down there."

Gunmetal City is built on the caldera of Mount Thollos. The hive sprawls to the edge of the caldera and into the sky while using geothermal taps to power the immense weapon works that are the reason for the city's existence. Beneath the foundries and hab layers are the collapsed levels and lava tunnels that form the underhive. In a planet dominated by hive cities, Infernis is a notoriously violent and dangerous place.

"How much further?" I ask.

Narcia points down the block. "That's G-6 over there. We need to find an entrance to the underhive. Most of this construction is new, which means they built over something. Shouldn't be too hard to find." She started off down the street. We followed her.

It was in fact, too damn easy. Five juves wearing heavy black leathers and sporting shaved scalps were extorting a few commuters. The gangers all sported scars, bad teeth, and the black comet tattoos that strongly resembled those from the autopsy pics. "Those ones," I said to Narcia.

"Yeah, I've seen them. Look at their hardware." They all carried pistols of various makes. One carried a slung pump shotgun, another an autogun with an extended clip. A third carried a cut down autogun with a drum magazine. Even by Gunmetal City standards, they were heavily armed. Which was necessary if they were going to shake down the inhabitants of this place, although I suspect they would have a quite different reception if the streets were fuller. In Gunmetal City, "I was in a gunfight" is a valid excuse for being late to work.

"We need at least one alive," I said to Narcia.

"Does it have to be from this group?" she asked.

"No, but-" she was already moving down the street. One against five was insane. Or maybe not. Her pistols were suddenly in her hands and she was firing. The ganger with the extended clip autogun took a slug in center of his chest and another in the right shoulder. The slugs blew out large holes coming out the back. He fell. The others turned towards her and she walked sideways, still firing.

The ganger with the drum magazined stubber caught a round in the belly and left thigh. He fell screaming, bullets spraying up high from the gun. Narcia hadn't chosen her shooting position at random. Her sidestep took her behind a dueling enclosure. Bullets ricocheted off the transparent armourplas. "Shotgun," told Volgast as we both headed for cover. I pulled the slung las over my shoulder as I took cover behind a pillar supported the elevated tramway.

Volgast darted for cover behind the side of a building. A gust of wind blew out of nowhere as the ganger with the shotgun dropped it and began spasming. Bullets sparked off the pillar. The gangers were a good thirty odd meters from me. I put two lasbolts in the one's chest and watched him drop. The last panicked and ran. I took a moment and shot him in both legs.

The one with the shotgun was still spasming as I approached. Narcia surveyed the scene, holding a stub pistol in one hand. "Volgest, let him live," I ordered. He shuddered and gasped. I pointed my gun at him. "Don't even think about it," I said.

Narcia's gun barked. The ganger I had wounded dropped his pistol and slumped back into the street, half of his skull blown away. "That's why you don't let them live," she said. I shot the ganger in front of me with a needle pistol. It took a few moments for the drug to work its way through his system. Narcia drew a small knife.

"What's that for?" I asked. She cut off the ganger's gun belt and then turned back to the two she downed. "Trophies," she replied. The gut shot one moaned. She bent down with her blade.

"Not yet," I said. "He answers a few questions before he gets any mercy."

[Sidewinder]

A good chapter. By the way, what kind of place would be so lawless that "I was in a gunfight," was a valid excuse for being late to work? Are the law enforcement agencies that weak?

[Imperial Overlord]

A good chapter. By the way, what kind of place would be so lawless that "I was in a gunfight," was a valid excuse for being late to work? Are the law enforcement agencies that weak?

It has a gun culture that makes the most redneck parts of the American south look like vegan hippy peaceniks. Its not so much lawless (although the lower levels are) as violent and the entire city's existence is centered around weapon's production. Life is cheap and dueling isn't just legal, but supported by armoured dueling enclosures available all over the place.

[Feil]

The first half of the first part is written in present tense. It then switches to past for no reason.

[Imperial Overlord]

The first half of the first part is written in present tense. It then switches to past for no reason.

This is because the author is prone to that, at least when writing in the first person.

[Imperial Overlord]

I work quickly, but he doesn't speak. Trickles of blood run from his body, but the only words that issue from his lips are curses. I give up and clean my blades on his body. "Unproductive," I say.

"There are other methods," said Volgest. He produces an auspex from under his cloak. "Chemical traces can be tracked."

Narcia looks at it skeptically. "How accurate is that thing?"

"This model is top of the line, practically archeotech," said Volgest. He scans the gangers and takes readings. The auspex beeps. "That way," he points.

He takes the lead. Narcia and I follow. We descend down the stairs to a subterranean tubeway station. The air is clearer here, but even hotter. "This is as far as it goes," said Narcia. "Bottom of the hive."

"So how do we get to the underhive?"

"There'll be an entrance somewhere around here. New levels and habs built on top of the old and the old becomes the under."

"This way," said Volgest, pointing down the tracks. Narcia looked doubtful. I started walking. I could here her take up the rear. There was a walkway for access to the system. Twenty meters down it there was a gap in the wall. A scree of rubble lead down into sweltering gloom, lit dully be red lights.

"Here," said Volgest unnecessarily. I took the lead. Gravel slipped under my boots.

"Watch your footing," I said. The others followed in my wake. Volgest slid and fell just before reaching the bottom, but didn't injure himself. I grab his arm and help him up.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." The gloom is lit by a few ancient lights. A corridor lined with ancient machinery leads away here. The photovision contacts that Volgest and I wore allowed us to clearly see the gangers occupying the corridor. One in particular was occupying a spot in the far upper right corridor, completely concealed by shadow and pointing a slug throwing rifle in our direction. I made a sign with my right hand.

I walked forward, the gunslinger following in my wake. Narcia could see the gangers moving in the gloom. "I mean no disrespect," I said. "Who is in charge here?"

One of the gangers steps forward, tall and lean. Two huge mountains of vat grown muscle are two steps ahead of him. They all wear battered leathers glinting with chrome and spikes. The leader is almost as tall as Volgest and bald. He smiles, showing chrome fangs. "I am. This is our territory."

I can see the Blackfire tattoos on him and his bodyguards. "I need to speak with the chief of your gang."

"You'll speak to me."

"If you say so," I replied. "I'm prepared to pay for an audience with your chief."

His eyes flickered. His men shifted on their feet. Bad sign. They were seeing me as prey or a threat. Not as a someone to do business with. Their body language was transparent.

I dropped the blind grenade I had palmed at the leader's feet and shot him twice in the chest, putting both rounds just off center. The Hecuter was loaded with hard tipped, fragmenting rounds. Anyone not wearing high quality body armour would suffer severe wounds. I saw the leader start to fall, blood spraying out the back of his chest, just before the blind grenade detonated. I was already dodging left.

The muscle came forward, through the heated smoke and electronic jamming of the blind grenade. This was fine as that made them cover from the rest of the gang. An icy breeze told me Volgest had already struck. I couldn't see the shooter because of the blind grenade, but I had no doubt he was already feeling the psyker's power.

Narcia's shot the slab of muscle closest to me twice in the right leg and once in the left. He fell, screaming in a surprisingly high pitched voice. The other was on top of her, but he fell back then the back of his head exploded in a red mist. She moved towards the machinery on the right, her guns firing blindly into the dark cloud.

The gangers were firing through the cloud now, although not a particularly high rate. They had people on the other side of it and no clear targets. I crept around the machinery to the edge of the tunnel wall and headed toward the gangers.

It was almost impossible to see anything without augmented vision to pierce the dark and I had cover as well. The first ganger never saw me as a I passed him in the dark. The gunfire was more than loud enough to cover me even if I had been making three times as much noise.

I reached the rear and slid up behind the closest ganger, a Daughter in my hand. Monoedged steel decapitated him in one swift slice. The ganger next to him was sprayed with blood. He turned but was far too slow. I rammed the Daughter through his nose and her tip came out the back of his head. I caught him and lowered his body to the ground.

Thunder boomed and lights flashed ahead. Men shrieked. I smelled ozone and cooked flesh. Volgest was doing his part. I put the Daughter through another ganger's spine. Two turned towards me now, or perhaps away from Volgest and Narcia's slaughter.

I was on the closest, the Daughter going through his chest and ripping down as I used him as cover from his fellow's shots. Blood sprayed me and entrails spilled from the wound. I pushed the dying man away from me as I engaged another. A bullet hit me with bruising force in the back, and I missed a step but recovered. Out of the corner of my eye I could see multicoloured lightning flashing.

The ganger tried to bring his shotgun to bear, but I got my left hand on the barrel. I pushed the gun away. He was stronger, but not strong enough to align the weapon before I cut open the inside of his right forearm with the Daughter. The severed artery spilled blood and I stabbed him in the heart and left lung. I pulled the gun out of his dying hands and spun, already hunting a new victim.

There were none. Narcia and Volgest had killed the rest. "Survivors?" I asked.

"The one on overwatch is unconscious, but lives," said Volgest. "You're not the only one who remembers his duty." I was duly reproached. Volgest had directly served our master longer than I had. "Shall we try a different way of making him talk?"

I cleaned the Daughter off on the clothes of the dead and reloaded the Hecuter. "Yes," I said. "We'll do it your way this time."

[Hawkwings]

Excellent, some very nice character interactions here. And we can now safely assume that the Daughters are blades of some sort.

[LadyTevar]

I'm thinking Assassin

[Imperial Overlord]

Volgest's drugged the ganger and then waited several minutes for the chemicals to take effect. Then he did something, I'm not sure what exactly, but the gust of warm air and the witch light glow that hugged the ganger's body for about a minute told me it was psychic. He began to babble. Volgest alternated asking questions with inflicting pain, directing the babble.

Narcia and I stood look out while the psyker worked. For the first few minutes there was nothing, but then she screwed up her courage and approached me. "You didn't say anything about a psyker when you hired me." She was no coward. She had a fairly good idea how much damage we could do and what might happen to her if we thought she was a liability.

"That's true," I said. "You didn't ask." Then, to sweeten the conversation I added, "he's Sanctioned."

"Really?" The skepticism would have told me a lot about how she earned her living if I didn't know that already.

"Really," I replied. "We'll show you the tattoo when he's finished the interrogation." Her eyes glittered in the half light as she processed that information.

"Who are you? You have to have juice if you have a Sanctioned operative on your team. Foundry Guild? Noble House? Arbites?"

"That wasn't part of the deal. Suffice to say we don't have to worry about Imperial authorities."

"I don't like having a witch around."

"Your being paid to be professional about it," I replied. She was so soft. Most humans were. They had no discipline, no sense of driving purpose to guide them and were buffet about by their emotions and prejudice. They were weak. What did wanting or liking have to do with anything? We served. If my master said I served with a psyker then I served with a psyker.

"It was a muscle for higher job," said Volgest, interrupting our conversation. "He didn't know much about the man who hired them."

"His leaders might," I said.

"I was thinking the same thing," he replied.

"Show her your Sanctioning Brand." He shrugged and rolled up is left sleeve, revealing the brand of the Adeptus Astrotelepathicus, an stylized eye in the center of stylized column.

"Good enough?" I asked. Volgest rolled down his sleeve.

"Yes, but three people against a Infernis gang is madness," Narcia said. "I'm not being paid to commit suicide."

"We aren't going to attack them," I said carefully. "We're just going to find them."

"The subject said that they claim this part of the underhive as their territory," said Volgest.

"And their headquarters?" I asked.

"Close." I lead the way down the corridor. A ramp lead down into the gloomy, half collapsed abandoned manufactuary floor. I could see the flicker of distant lights through gaps in the walls. The far end used to house a large door, but that was long since gone. I walked to the end and gazed upon Infernis.

A stairway of rubble lead down about ten meters to the chamber's floor. The heat was stifling. Cables dangling from the ceiling and the central column running through the vault powered collections of scavenged lights. The flames of small cook fires and torches added their feeble efforts to relieve the gloom. I could clearly see the edges of the chamber almost a kilometer away and shrouded in shadow. Ancient and battered dwellings had were crudely repaired and put back into use alongside shelters constructed from improvised materials. One in particular caught my attention, a three story crumbling apartment block with a gunman on the roof and another by the door. "There," I said.

"Yes," said Volgest. "They even have security of a sort. Time to bring in the rest."

"Agreed," I replied. "Tell them to bring my Bride."

[Ted C]

We descended to the base of the sky climbing towers and into the press of humanity below. Gunmetal City hosted some four billion souls in a huge, sprawling megalopolis. The massive blocks of weapon foundries and hab housing were all around us and the streets and walkways were filled with people and vehicles. Every other block there was rectangular, transparent armourplas enclosure, about three meters wide and fifteen meters long for gunfighting. Star shaped impact points marked the armourplas where high powered rounds had struck the enclosure.

Any reason you went from present tense in the first installment to past tense in the second?

EDIT: Already answered, I see.

[The Grim Squeaker]

We descended to the base of the sky climbing towers and into the press of humanity below. Gunmetal City hosted some four billion souls in a huge, sprawling megalopolis. The massive blocks of weapon foundries and hab housing were all around us and the streets and walkways were filled with people and vehicles. Every other block there was rectangular, transparent armourplas enclosure, about three meters wide and fifteen meters long for gunfighting. Star shaped impact points marked the armourplas where high powered rounds had struck the enclosure.

Any reason you went from present tense in the first installment to past tense in the second?

We descended to the base of the sky climbing towers and into the press of humanity below. Gunmetal City hosted some four billion souls in a huge, sprawling megalopolis. The massive blocks of weapon foundries and hab housing were all around us and the streets and walkways were filled with people and vehicles. Every other block there was rectangular, transparent armourplas enclosure, about three meters wide and fifteen meters long for gunfighting. Star shaped impact points marked the armourplas where high powered rounds had struck the enclosure.

Any reason you went from present tense in the first installment to past tense in the second?

EDIT: Already answered, I see.

Nice fic

[LadyTevar]

I want to see what his Bride is.

And I still say he's an Assassin

[Hawkwings]

My theory is that he's a senior acolyte, or perhaps an inquisitor in training. He and the psyker both serve the same master, who is presumably an inquisitor. And as a member of the inquisition, he wouldn't have to worry about Imperial authorities.

Imperial Assassins work alone and they don't recruit local help. Plus, they wouldn't be doing investigation, they would be killing a certain person, or lots of people.

[Imperial Overlord]

My theory is that he's a senior acolyte, or perhaps an inquisitor in training. He and the psyker both serve the same master, who is presumably an inquisitor. And as a member of the inquisition, he wouldn't have to worry about Imperial authorities.

Assassins, of whom those trained by the Officio Assassinorum are only a small percentage, are often found in Inquistor's retinues. Mehlindi is probably the most famous example.

Imperial Assassins work alone and they don't recruit local help. Plus, they wouldn't be doing investigation, they would be killing a certain person, or lots of people.

Sure they do, if they're working for an inquisitor and have those skills. A Callidus Assassin would certainly operate in that matter if her or she perceived it to be productive and again, that's just talking about Shrine Assassins.