On Stranger Hives. Necromunda IC.

[The Realm of God]

The planet Necromunda. The Imperiums largest hive and the centre of production for a whole subsector. It's underhive is in turmoil, workers are dissatisfied with the Imperium and are gathering rioters to stir up trouble. Various chaos cults venerate there evil Gods in the safety of the squalor of the underhive and astrocratic gangs have been tightening there control other there large urban fuedal realms......

The vox spoke the words softly in the ear of Eversor Assiassin designated 'Redeemer'. His mission was to restore order by any means necessary by removing the leaders of the various trouble maker groups. With his orders uplinked and his equipment in order. The drop pod shot towards the surface of the underhive.

OOC. It's a little short. I will elaborate later.

[Legital]

The unpleasant smell of the underhive wafted around Commissar Wulfe, and he could not help but wrinkle his nose. Ever since the food shortages in some of the levels of the underhive began, people have been getting angrier and restless. Many of the Arbites found themselves tied up in places doing tasks that should be left to lesser men, and could be completed in half the time. Now, in order to speed up efforts and keep the population in line, some Guard units were being put to these menial tasks, such as handing out food rations, as Wulfe and his section were doing now.

The line of the poor and famished stretched almost as far as the eye could see, which was not much in the underhive when one thought about it. Massive archways led to tunnels that led to various places within the underhive. Smaller alleys and streets led to unsavory places where any loyal Imperial citizen would not be caught dead at. It bothered Wulfe immensely how he saw these people taking their food and escaping to these such places. Most likely bringing their food to their gang or House bosses, where they would be lucky if they got a quarter of what food was, by Imperial edict, rightfully theirs. But there was nothing he could do about it besides continuing the supervision of the food line. Rumors were rife within the line as Wulfe listened in on the crowd with trained ears, rumors that if spoken from a Guardsmens lips, a proper punishment would be in store. The most prevalent rumor, Wulfe noted, was the rumor of Orks in system, and nearing towards Necromunda. Some said that the Orks were already at the Hive itself. Preposterous, Wulfe thought. If the foul Xenos were here, I would not be handing out rations to these starving citizens. Nor would any of the Guard.

But Wulfe was an experienced Commissar, and he had seen things that would make the most uneducated street dweller scratch his head. With the way things were going in the upper levels, Wulfe would not be too entirely surprised if Orks were ravaging through sections of the Hive. It wasn't like looting and disaster was something new to this area.

"Keep the line moving!" Wulfe called out from atop a small crate, his peaked commissar cap cutting high into the air. "Present your Imperial ration dockets when it is your turn. Take your rations, and leave promptly!" Looking around at the blank faces, no one probably took heed to his directions. The mass of bodies would mechanically shuffle to the front, search for their docket, and slowly escape with their food. It would be hours, maybe even a whole day, before Wulfe would be finished here.
Wulfe settled his hand on his sheathed chainsword, and continued to examine the crowd. The bleary eyed Guardsmen at the front of the lines continued their tireless stamping of dockets and handing out ration packs.

[New Cinoth]

Lucis sighed as he walked behind a disheveled looking lady clutching a child in her arms. Just grab my food and go. Don't stay and chat with these pompous, overfed guards and their stuffy commissar. Lucis couldn't stop himself from grinning. From the lap of luxury to this hellhole. Someday they'll all pay! All I need is a few friends...

Lost in his daydreaming about vengeance he didn't notice that the guardsman was trying to hand him his rations. Lucis snapped back to reality with a sudden jolt. Ginning at the guard pleasantly, Lucis took the food, all the while trying to make out the guard's name and unit. I wish I could just blast this pathetic guard and be done with it. Sighing he reminded himself now was not the time for blasting anyone or anything.

Luci stepped out of line and moved to a corner, watching the line intently. He grinned and reached into his pocket, pulling a small device and pushing the button located on its side. After a while a small servo-skull bobbed next to him. "Command: Record pict." Lucis grinned as he watched the servo-skull swivel an begin to record the guardsmen that were handing out the rations. I really must start gather some friends or I'm never going to make it far... But where to start?

[Gideus]

Gunnjar growled. The upstart whelp that meant to take control of his gang, his life's work, his family, his plan, was a whole foot or two taller than him and a few hundred pounds of muscle larger. He was a brute, an idiot. He was the embodiment of strength and brutality, the things that usually ran the gangs down here. But he was weak - weak in the mind, weak in his plans. Gunnjar Friigzold could hold his own in brute strength and primal instinct, but he was something more. He was enlightened. And he could do things no other Scalie could.

The massive challenger charged at Gunnjar. Gunnjar simply sidestepped its charge, letting it smash into the ferrocrete wall behind him. Walking over to the upstart bastard, he grabbed it by the neck and started exerting force with his hands. The scales started to crack and the tissue began to collapse. He then began something that no one else he let live in the Gang do - he forced the power of his mind into the flesh of the challenger. The power of the Warp burnt and tore at his flesh. In seconds, it was nothing more than ashes and cinders around a spinal cord which was in turn charcoal.

"Will that be all?" he asked, flicking his hand at the now-dead challenger's companions. Fourteen various weapons were aimed at them - scatterguns, spearguns, even the odd autocannon. These were the members of the Gang that he had personally selected to watch this demonstration and their faith in him as a leader was strengthened even more.

The two companions to the challenger threw themselves on the ground in supplication to Gunnjar. Walking over to them, he grabbed each by the side of their face - one on the left with his right hand, one on the right with his left hand. His hand burned into their scales, turning every scale he touched into a white mark with a strange mark at the center.

"You are bound to me... and Him. Now go and do as the dams tell you to; your only place is as a slave now."

That was then. This is now.

A large armored personnel carrier, a Chimera, rolled down the street at a slow five miles per hour. In the lower levels of the hive, it couldn't go fast without running people over. As it was, people still only got out of the way at the last minute. It trundled along, pindle-mounted guns tracking targets among the crowd. The turret was inactive. The contents were invaluable in the lower Hive, let alone in the Underhive.

And those contents were what Gunnjar's men, the Muutma Gang, would be taking.

A cry echoed from five stories up a hab-block as a massive Scalie jumped and landed on top of the Chimera. The APC buckled under the strain of the near-ton creature landing on it. The insane strength of the creature, another branded with similar markings to those earlier, only on both sides of his face, was directed towards ripping the turret out of its moorings. The hydraulic pressure of the turret turning to blast directly at him whined as it popped leaks. The Scalie looked at the multi-laser that was ponderously turning to face him and he grabbed it in one hand, crushing the barrels of it. The weapon was useless and the guardsmen inside were beginning to panic. A deep chuckle emanated from his throat.

"Muutma! ATTACK!"

The various Scavvie and Scalie members of the Muutma Gang assigned to this "project" emerged from the crowd, hab-blocks, and alleyways surrounding the tank. Almost all civilians had retreated to the ends of the block, waiting nervously as the Muutmas took everything they wanted and that they found valuable from the tank. The guardsmen were taken, destined to be food. The massive amounts of extra food rations were taken, meant to be sold or eaten. As they retreated, the Scavvie in charge of the attack sent a vox-signal to Gunnjar. Another raid gone well.

He chuckled from his throne of stolen riches, his seat of false grandeur and splendor. The chuckle came out dull and metallic, as all voxsponder sounds were. Every small conquest made him a bit stronger, every small conquest put him a step closer to unveiling the plan of his Lord and Master.

[Armageddon Steel Legion]

Meduka smiled at the commissar before bowing at him." Pardon me, commissar. But does any of your troops need medical helps? Would they like to give a donation or such? Or do you need help giving out food?" She then smiled again, before putting her mask on. Two other's then went over to the line and helped to move it along. "Such is the Emperor's work." She smiled and adjusted her glasses before pulling out a small coin bag and opening it up before handing the Commissar a small block of cake, which was in." Not much, but it should keep a fire in your belly until your work is done, Commissar." She then nodded at him respectively.. Hopefully he would fall for the act.


Holy light clinic

"AND WITH THE PLAGUES OF NURGLE, WE FEED HIM!"Came a shriek as one of the female cultists then slammed her knife into the poor boy's heart, killing him as a sacrifice to Nurgle. They then throw him into the pile of dead before getting their uniforms on and going back to tending the sick in the clinic.

[The Realm of God]

The Drop Pod smashed into an underhive ruin. The Eversor braced himself against the force of the landing and initiated diagnostics for his equipment.

Systems 100%.....
Tactical Advisor 100%.......
Vox Communications 100%
Power Armour, WARNING MINOR FAILURE......rebooting, reboot......nano systems have repaired power armour to 99.5% efficiency...

Proceeding......mission objectives implanted, Neuro systems online.

Location Abandoned Hab 2896. Underhive Necromunda.

TACTICAL OPTIONS DETECTED.

'local arbiters record show shooting by local gang 'scalies' proceed with caution ordinance estimation system, estimates that gang is armed with primitive autoweapons. Tactical Option advised.....avoid direct confrontation. Proceed to seek mission objective. Necron and Chaos presence.

Be advised Imperial Guard forces in vicinity. Inquasition recommends evasion. If you are found they are to be treated as an enemy.

Good luck......Redeemer.

[Legital]

Wulfe frowned as he watched a suspicious looking fellow go through the line. Throne, most of them were suspicious, but this fellow was a little different. The mans facial features, the way he looked at everyone...it was unnerving to say the least. Typically, Wulfe would have ignored fellows like that, but this one seemed to retreat to a street corner. From there, he seemed to be examining the line. Perhaps a gang member? Very likely. But seemingly from no where, a servo-skull made its way towards the man, and clearly began recording the crowd. Wulfe wondered if this man was some sort of reporter or journalist. But even then, a servo-skull was not something many of them had. And down here? It was unheard of.

Someone began talking to him, as he heard 'Commissar', and he looked down to notice a women speaking to him. He nodded a greeting, and flashed a friendly smile, as friendly as one could be from a Commissar with many scarring along his cheeks. "I thank you mamzel, but we have everything under control. As for medical attention, your efforts should be focused towards the populace, not the men." Then, the woman produced a small piece of cake, and Wulfe knelt down to take it, and he nodded his thanks as the woman left. "The Emperor protects." He said as she walked off, unsure if she even heard him.
He examined the small cake piece, and raised it to his mouth to eat it. But then he stopped. A Commissar in a finely pressed uniform eating cake while standing above a famished crowd would not produce the best image. And with that damn journalist down the street, it would really make a bad image.

Instead, Wulfe knelt and handed the cake to a man walking by, who smiled greatly and thanked the Commissar many times than he could count. Wulfe nodded, and stood back to his full height while he was on top of the crate. He scanned over the crowd, and noted the journalist was still there, still recording the crowd. He frowned again. A violation of Imperial edict #7747. He thought. Should I even bother.... Wulfe sighed. No matter how insignificant a task is, it is the Emperors work.
Wulfe jumped down from the crate, landing perfectly on his feet, his hand still resting comfortably on the hilt of his chainsword. He weaved through the crowd, making his way towards the reporter, his Commissar greatcoat fluttering slightly as he walked, and his peaked cap jutting into the air like a sharks fin. His face was hard, a constant scowl, and the scarring did not help improve. Infact, he could have been enraged or content, and no one would no. He favored it when they guessed.

Approaching the reporter with the servo-skull, the Commissar nodded. "A reporter, I presume? I do believe you are familiar with Imperial edict number 7747 in regards to your current activity?" He inquired, his voice cool and smooth, but with a hard edge to it as well.

[New Cinoth]

Lucis saw the commissar, accepting cake from a strange woman, who appeared to be dressed in some form of medical equipment. Well that one is odd! He addressed the servo=-skull, "Make a note to investigate the doctor. Oh and highly that part of the clip for later studies." Lucis allowed himself a smug smile as he saw the commissar holding the cake in his hand, looking lightly foppish. His grin faded as the commissar began to make his way towards him. Crap.....I had to be that painful obvious, didn’t I. He looked at the servo skull and whispered, "Stop recording and ready defense protocols."

Lucis grinned as the commissar called him a reporter, "A reporter...... Me? Of course not! What a silly occupation that would be!" Lucis grinned and laughed, A commissar is also a silly occupation! "And no, I'm of the edict 77 something or other. As you can see I'm just a simple under-hiver with his trusty servo." Lucis patted the servo-skull as if it was a dear family pet. " I hope I wasn't violating anything too serious. But then again I'm sure you could let me off with a warning and an explanation of this edict so I don't repeat myself." Lucis grinned pleasantly, however a strange expression came into his eyes. This could end badly....

[Legital]

Wulfe stared at the man with a stern unwavering gaze. I surely hope he is not trying to be suspicious. This is almost comical. He thought as the man spoke. Utilizing a servo-skull was already rare down here. Denying he was a reporter, which would make the most sense, was beyond Wulfe. He also claimed to be an underhiver, perhaps the poorest of all citizens of a hive. Either this man was very stupid, or had some master plan that Wulfe would never grasp in a million years.

"Regardless, you were in violation of Imperial service edict #7747." He repeated again. "Since you seem to know nothing of it, allow me to explain it in short. There is to be no recording of Imperial personal in a time of crises," He waved his hand at the massive food line, indicating what would be a civil crises,"for personal use or for distribution. If you really want to get complicated with this, it has roots into propaganda against the Imperial Creed." Wulfe allowed that to hang for a moment. "But we won't go there. The violation carries a fine, how much is irrelevant." Again, he let the silence between the two linger. "And I could let you go with a warning. But I don't favor that. Tell me, what is your name and a better defense? You simply not knowing is not good enough for me. Anyone with a servo-skull should know the consequences of utilizing it."

[The Realm of God]

Redeemer moved quietly and stumbled upon the scene with the Imperial Guard.

TACTICAL ADVICE.

Attempt to circumvent guard positions. If spotted utilise standard outnumbered protocol. Utilise Neuro fist, and attempt to evade execute evasion protocol. Servo skull wielding citizen primary threat.

[New Cinoth]

Lucis grinned and stood before the commissar, "I would never dream of going against the Imperial Creed or such an upstanding commissar like yourself!" Lucis could barely contain his amusement. "I am Luis Bacco," He said bowing, "And no, I'm not related to the Bacco family merchants. It's just a coincidence." He grinned at his simple deception, Anyone who had spent time near the Bacco family would know I'm lying. I just hope this commissar is that bright or well connected.. Lucis's hood fell from his face revealing jet black hair and strange green eyes. He was couldn't have been older than twenty. "Well then allow me to delete the recording." Lucis turned to the servo-skull, "Delete recording #48A." Damn it, well at least I'm keeping the footage of that weird doctor.

"See? All better! No harm no foul, right?" Lucis dipped into his powers, attempting to influence the commissar’s thoughts. "So I assume we are okay now and this could be our little secret, right? It won't happen again commissar." he said with another bow. Oh, how I would love to burn this fools flesh off his bones! He continued, "So might I ask you name. Just so I can learn who set me back in the Emperor's light?" He ginned hopefully,Then I could track you down and BURN you! "After all it would be nice to know the name of one of the Imperium's heroes!"

[Legital]

Commissar Wulfe ignored the mans obvious sarcasm. If this bastard wanted to get funny, he could be all the funny he wanted sitting in a detention cell. Prison rats enjoyed entertainment too.
As the man gave his name, Wulfe nodded. He had indeed heard of the Bacco family of merchants, but he knew little of them. He also cared little of them. As the man removed his hood, Wulfe was amused to see the man had the same hair color and eye color as him. However, the mans green eyes seemed to be a different shade. Something was different about them at the very least.
When the man reached out with his powers, he would feel nothing. In fact, he would feel a dreadful and devouring emptiness whenever he tried to use his powers against the Commissar.

"Deleting the rerecording was only part of what had to be done. You still owe a fine. And you should also know this, never tell a Commissar a secret. That's for chaplains." That caused the smallest of grins to befall upon his face. It was an old joke amongst the Commissariat cadets. He still remembered it after all these years. "Not to mention your name will also be submitted to the proper records when I forward this incident to the Adeptus Arbites and local enforcement."

As the man asked for Wulfes name, still with that sarcasm that he loathed, he sighed inwardly. Staring at the man with his hard gaze, Oskar Wulfe answered. "My name is Wulfe. Commissar Wulfe." He pronounced his 'W' with a 'V', so it sounded like he said Volf.

---

Jak was walking around the food line, his Lasrifle in hand, making sure there was no trouble. 'Keeping the peace', as Commissar Wulfe called it. But he didn't really care. Hopefully one of the bastards would step out of line, and he could blast their fraggen heads off. He grinned, that would be a sight.
But nothing of interest was happening really. Just poor bastards waiting to grab cold bread. Hah! He had a warm meal back at base ready for him when he arrived. Warm meat, warm bread, warm recaf. That'd be great. He smiled again.

But as time went on, he noticed something strange off in the general distance. Some skull faced freak with what looked like Guard issue armor was standing off in the shade. Hefting his Lasrifle up, he grinned. I'm going to nail this bastard! He began to jog, and called out. "Hey! You there buddy! Come over here!"

[Gideus]

Gunnjar looked up from his silent contemplation. To many it would seem he had been sleeping, but that was not so. He had been using the power known as Witchsight. He could view almost anything anywhere in this Underhive and most of the Hive. And he didn't like what he was seeing. Something had drawn his attention - the release of many souls. An object had crashed into the Underhive, killing many of the inhabitants. It hadn't touched his territory, an area impregnated with his psychic signature, but it sure as Khorne had landed close enough to warrant attention. Sending his spirit form forward, he assumed the shape of something that was half-racial memory and half-from a book he had seen a picture in after killing someone. The form of a dragon, a large lizard-like being with wings, was what anyone who could see his Warp presence would see. Flying through solid ferrocrete and plasteel and other materials, he followed the burning wreckage of buildings. And he didn't like what he saw. It was a drop pod, and only a few groups used them - none of which he wanted anywhere near his territory.

Sending a passive psy-signal to the voxsponder that made of most of his neck, he commanded the Scavvie that was waiting on him to go get a group of Seekers. The Seekers were the members of his gang that he assigned to finding targets and carrying out assassinations. Since he hadn't seen anything living in the drop pod, he assumed it had already departed.

"Get the ratlings... They're the best at this kind of thing." he said. Ratlings were naturals at this kind of job and he had found no shortage of them in this particular Underhive. Instead of letting their talents go to waste in the pathetic Guard, he had recruited them personally. He hadn't even needed to resort to such crude methods as most of the Scalies he recruited.

The Seekers crept along the alleyways and habs of the Underhive. They stayed to the shadows, almost never even appearing to be there. Carrying long-las and solid slug sniper rifles, they were safer than many others in the Underhive. Yet they did not know what they were about to see - or not see. Clinging to the shadows, they rose rifles in patterns, searching for thermal trails from the wreckage. Various signals were picked up by the rifles, most conflicting. This thing had somehow managed to escape unharmed and undetected. They spread out, covering more ground.

And one of them saw something, just barely. It moved too quickly along the ruins and wreckage of this area of the Underhive to see for more than a second, but they knew they were onto something. They began following, sidearms in their left hands as they readied themselves for a shoot-out...

[The Realm of God]

Commissar Wulfe ignored the mans obvious sarcasm. If this bastard wanted to get funny, he could be all the funny he wanted sitting in a detention cell. Prison rats enjoyed entertainment too.
As the man gave his name, Wulfe nodded. He had indeed heard of the Bacco family of merchants, but he knew little of them. He also cared little of them. As the man removed his hood, Wulfe was amused to see the man had the same hair color and eye color as him. However, the mans green eyes seemed to be a different shade. Something was different about them at the very least.
When the man reached out with his powers, he would feel nothing. In fact, he would feel a dreadful and devouring emptiness whenever he tried to use his powers against the Commissar.

"Deleting the rerecording was only part of what had to be done. You still owe a fine. And you should also know this, never tell a Commissar a secret. That's for chaplains." That caused the smallest of grins to befall upon his face. It was an old joke amongst the Commissariat cadets. He still remembered it after all these years. "Not to mention your name will also be submitted to the proper records when I forward this incident to the Adeptus Arbites and local enforcement."

As the man asked for Wulfes name, still with that sarcasm that he loathed, he sighed inwardly. Staring at the man with his hard gaze, Oskar Wulfe answered. "My name is Wulfe. Commissar Wulfe." He pronounced his 'W' with a 'V', so it sounded like he said Volf.

---

Jak was walking around the food line, his Lasrifle in hand, making sure there was no trouble. 'Keeping the peace', as Commissar Wulfe called it. But he didn't really care. Hopefully one of the bastards would step out of line, and he could blast their fraggen heads off. He grinned, that would be a sight.
But nothing of interest was happening really. Just poor bastards waiting to grab cold bread. Hah! He had a warm meal back at base ready for him when he arrived. Warm meat, warm bread, warm recaf. That'd be great. He smiled again.

But as time went on, he noticed something strange off in the general distance. Some skull faced freak with what looked like Guard issue armor was standing off in the shade. Hefting his Lasrifle up, he grinned. I'm going to nail this bastard! He began to jog, and called out. "Hey! You there buddy! Come over here!"

'Redeemer noticed the guardsmen shouting at him, his combat enhancements allowed him to calculate the chance of success. Instantly he dived down to the street leval firing his needle pistol.

TACTICAL SUGGESTION.

Use melee against them, there reactions are too slow to counter.
...................................

With that redeemer rambled about damnation and ran at the guardsmen waving his Neuro Gauntlet. Dodging around rubble to avoid las fire.

[New Cinoth]

Lucis cringed, what is wrong with this guy? It's like he doesn't have a soul. Doubt started to gnaw at his insides. Time to get out. Now! Lucis grinned, "So what, pray tell, is the amount I must pay?" Lucis signaled his servo-skull to take notes on how much he would owe. "Don't worry it's just notes on debts and stuff. Yeah I know it's an odd attachment, but it reminds me- er..." Lucis paused nervously, "Well it keeps me on track."

Lucis's eyes widened as he saw a strange figure run out at the guardsman. This is a really bad day! Lucis looked at the commissar, "You're buddy is about to be killed!" Lucis started to back away, hoping the commissar would be preoccupied with whatever that thing is. Lucis began to backpedal even faster. "Shouldn't you be shooting or something!"

[Gideus]

Gunnjar was stalking behind his Seekers, almost as stealthy as they. That was saying something, considering he was a multi-hundred pound lizard man. He was using his natural armor to its maximum, the thick scales enough to stop even some of the stronger of autoguns. He wore very tight and flexible cargo shorts, ammunition strapped into everywhere he could fit it and still pull it out quickly in combat. Bandoliers and a basic combat harness adorned his torso and arms, an off-black cloak able to be drawn about himself to make himself seem as little more than a massive man. His left hand held a stolen bolt pistol and in his right a wicked weapon that combined sword and axe.

The Seekers quickened their pace. He did too.

What is the meaning of this...? he thought to himself, partially wondering if his unholy patron could hear him - or any of his greater minions.

And then it started to go downhill. Or uphill. Who cared, it started to get interesting. The figure began to move towards the guardsmen, weaving and bobbing to avoid their gunfire. As it began to near them, the exchange intensified. Approaching his Seekers, he announced his presence with a psychic message to them. They turned around, seeing him, obviously used to him doing that. He began telling them what they were going to do: observe the combat and if the chance presented itself, two of them would accompany him to where the guardsmen were handing food and the like out. If they could take control of this they could increase demand, force them to buy from sources like his.

As the guardsmen attempted to take down the individual, he holstered his gun and hid his blade under the cloak. Pulling the cloak up around him, he pulled gloves on to hide his reptilian hands. Proceeding with two of the Ratlings, which left their rifles with the other two, they entered the area through the side, avoiding the firefight entirely.

Once they entered the small shelter, he proceeded to look at the materials available in there. The amount of guardsmen was greatly diminished. Hand under his cloak and on the hilt of his blade, he grinned. Signalling to his two accomplices to head to the sides of the room, he proceeded to the area that food was being handed out. When asked what he wanted, he grinned, shaking his head so that the hood fell off. The guardsman in front of him was suddenly on alert, but not fast enough. The dark arterial blood from his severed neck painted the wall and the crowd nearest. Roaring, he pulled his bolt pistol out and his two accomplices did as well.

"Men! Get the food and drinks. Take their weapons. Anyone who wishes to join us... Join me... The Muutma Gang, follow us. You're going to starve otherwise." he said. A fairly sizable amount of the Hivers and Underhivers began grabbing the food, the guardsmen in the room unable to get clear shots on any of the perpetrators due to the massive crowd. Disappearing into the crowd, he and his ratlings grabbed what they could, grabbed the few weapons they could get from the dead guardsmen, and broke out through the back doors. They would attempt to link up again, to run back to their territory... now with new members and supplies in tow.

"Guardsmen... Pathetic!" he vocalized through the voxsponder, spitting back at the Imperials as they retreated to their lair.

[Jormengand]

Arcanus checked that the area was clear from danger. Since gang membership was legal, and the Imperials and arbitrators had yet to send a clearing order, it should be fine...

His thoughts were cut short by a man arguing about a fine for using a servo-skull to record Imperial guard forces, somthing about article seven thousand of something. There were only two laws in the underhive - don't attack non-gang members and don't fight in towns. He hoped he'd misheard the seven thousand.

He listened to the argument for a while, until a space marine decided to land in the middle of the guardsmen. He had no idea what was going on, but he planned on finding out. He checked for any other strong warp presences, and found that the man with the servo-skull was almost radiating psychic power... but it seemed that the man he was talking to was almost a hole in reality. It was strange, but not currently relevant. He made sure to remember, however.

Making sure no-one else would pick up the message, Arcanus sent a short mental signal to the psyker. Get up here. He sent an image of where "here" was, but made sure to stay hidden.

[New Cinoth]

Lucis looked around, surprised at the sudden message, Alright... who are you? Are you a psyker too? He looked up at Wulfe, "I'm terribly sorry but I have to be leaving now! Hope things go well with your new friend!" Lucis turned and ran, the servo-skull bobbing behind him. This is great! I can finally begin my plans!

He skidded to a stop, slightly breathless because of the rather soft life he used to live. Well I'm here... so who are you? And how did you know that I could speak back..... You did know I could speak like this didn't you? Ginning widely, Lucis looked around, searching for the mysterious psyker who had called him. He called out, "So... Umm. Thanks. I'm Lucis, may I ask your name?"

[Jormengand]

"Arcanus Mecharius, if you will. I suggest that we leave before that - I'm guessing a space marine, or a spyrer? Whatever it is, which seems to be a very high-level blank, we should probably get out before it eats our faces. And yes, I know you're a wyrd, ," - he used the underhive word for psyker, as he was more familiar with it -"because I searched for warp energy. That person you were talking to was also a high-level blank. We should probably get out, and I can soon explain more."

[New Cinoth]

Lucis nodded, "That explains a lot! As for the leaving I don't really know anyplace that's really safe down here. Do you know one?"He grinned and pulled his hood back over his face. "So why were you looking for psykers? It's not like we are the most stable people. But if you are seeking psyker then you probably need everyone you can get.... You are hiring or something like that right?" I really hope he's not one of those people from the Black Ships. They scare the crap out of me!

He paused, thinking on that dreadful thought. What am I going to do if he is form the Black Ships? "So you said that thing was a space marine. Don't they usually stick in squads or something? They are known as the angels of death." Lucis chuckled lightly, "Anyways do you know anything about the Bacco family?" I hope he hasn't heard much about them.... But I should expect that he does. After all that dolt of a commissar did.

[Legital]

Jak was immediately hit with several of the needle pistol rounds after he fired off some shots, and he collapsed onto his knees as blood gurgled from his mouth. He clawed at his throat, trying to make himself breath, but it was too late. The needle pistols did their job, and he was now lying face down in a puddle of expanding blood, his lasrifle clattering to the cold black ground.

---

Before Wulfe could answer the man named Lucis, he heard the immediate gunfire, and in a single swoop, he removed his Bolt pistol from the holster under his greatcoat. Wulfe snarled, and his Bolt pistol boomed over the sound of the panicking crowd and cracking of Lasrifles, creating a path for the Commissar to easily travel through. He was going to tell Lucis something, but the man already ran off. He would find him later. There was something different about him.

With his Bolt pistol still raised, he strode towards the food tables in the middle of the courtyard where the main action seemed to be taking place. Throne, there were so many people everywhere! "Move out of the way! Move, dammit!" He growled. Las fire was going off in all direction, but there were little attackers. He could tell by the shots. The Guardsmen were scared, firing at someone who pulled a gun on someone. He saw several dead Guardsmen, some most likely killed by each other in panic.

Suddenly, he saw these figures moving through the crowd, ravaging some of the tables the Guardsmen could not arrive at. He saw some of them take shots, but they either hit someone running by, or missed entirely. He cursed. Finding a Chimera, the back open and crates spilled out of it, he crawled up the side of it to get a better look over the crowd. What he saw did not please him one bit. Mutants, he thought, or Xenos. He really could not tell. But he knew one thing, and that was either way they should, and will die by the Emperors light. Noticing how badly the Guardsmen were organized, it was time for him to step in. He'd have a word with the officer when this was over.

"Servants of the Emperor!" He bellowed, "Cease all fire! Cease all fire!" His voice was loud and echoing in the large outside square, and it took the Lasfire only moments to stop. The area was mostly clear of people now, with only the living guardsmen in the center by the tables and chimeras, while dead lay scattered all around. Several Guardsmen were grabbing bodies, and dragging fellow men back to the safety of the Chimeras and tables. Some of the tables were overturned, their contents already looted, and men hid behind them. Wulfe hopped down, and began barking orders.
"Signal reinforcements!" A 'Yes, sir' called out from somewhere, and someone scrambled for a vox. "Get the square secure! I want a Guardsmen at every corner!" Again, more acknowledgement, and the guardsmen, finally with someone who could order them about clearly, became the professionals they should be.
There were not many Guardsmen, but every entrance to the large square had at least four men at it. Chimeras came to life, and rumbled over to the corners as well. There was no use in staying out in the open. The two command Chimeras pulled off together by a shop, where the keeper frantically hid. As bodies were being cleared away, and the situation under control, Wulfe began to seek out the officer.

"Captain Bemel? Captain Bemel!" He yelled. No one responded. He called again, and this time a young fresh faced Guardsmen with Lieutenant tabs approached him. "Commissar, s-sir, he is dead. Sir. I am in command here n-now." The man said shakily. Wulfe looked him over, and realized just how young he was. "I see. And when did the captian perish?" He inquired. The Lieutenant answered almost immediately. "He was killed by something odd when the fighting broke out, sir. Something that moved very fast. Someone said the thing had a skull for a head. Inspection upon some of the bodies conclude a needle pistol was indeed used." Wulfe thought for a moment. A needle pistol? A skull for a face? Either these were cultists or-No, these had to have been cultists. If the facts were true, however.

"Very well. But if there are anymore slip ups in command, and I mean any, it will be your head. Literally. Now take command of your men like a real officer. I have something of...importance to attend to." He said, and the young man gulped, with a hasty 'Yes, sir' and a salute before running off somewhere. Wulfe frowned. After thinking over some of the few possibilities he had here, there was only one thing that was suspicious out of all of this.
The man with the servo-skull and odd, well, aurora, you could say. Not literally, but he was different.
Wulfe assembled of Guardsmen, some of the more loyal ones that he picked quickly out of sight, and relinquished a Chimera. He saw the street the man took off down, and he was intent on getting to him.

[Jormengand]

"To be honest, I have no idea whether or not that thing is a space marine. All I care is that it's a very high-level blank and I don't want anything to do with it." He kept moving. "There are plenty of safe places in the underhive, if you come with me I can show you. Well, relatively safe."

He smiled. "And everyone knows about the Bacco family. I recognise both your names." He dropped a small metal disk which had been painted blue into Louis' hand. It had engravings on it which would be almost imposssible to replicate, and different blues swirled across it. "Nova, Glara, Orcus!" Each granted a disk of his own, in the colours of the other three gods. "If you take these with you, and present one to a chaos cultist, then they will know that you are one of us."

He walked on further from the conflict. "We're going to one of the trade posts, so keep those hidden unless you need to use one. Trade posts ban gang fights, and those well into the underhive won't be swarming with guardsmen either."

[The Realm of God]

Redeemer quietly slipped into an ally way in the confusion. Somewhere in the depths of his memory he recalled the stupidity of guardsmen, hmm that was quite apt, there paths may cross yet. He had seen one of his targets in the confusion a psyker of some sort. Might have something to do with the cult or the Necrons.

His vox comms burst into life "Redeemer this is Inquisitor Walden, I wish you to persue this psyker see where he is going and report back to me, good luck."

[New Cinoth]

Lucis grinned, "Oh! Well I guess you know that I was thrown out so we can't really rely on my "family", maybe a few are still loyal but not many." Lucis shrugged, "A safe place. Sounds great! Hopefully it is somewhere cozy." Lucis was born in the upper-hive after all, comfort was a must. Hopefully it's out of all this filth! I'll never scrub it out of the skull at this rate! Lucis chuckled, realizing how petty his concerns were.

He gasped at the mention of chaos, "Umm so you’re one of them ? Well that changes a bit of things, but it also explains a lot." He looked down at the coin. "Would you mind if I observe before I decide whether to join or not... I mean, it is heresy. The inquisition could catch you." He grinned, "Either way I won't expose you. You could just claim I was influencing your mind. After all, that is what I'm best at, influence and control.... Mostly of the weak willed, but I guess I could pull something better." He grinned, "So is chaos really... You know.... Exciting? I've always been curious but I never thought I'd really see a real live cultist!"

[Jormengand]

"Oh, it's very exciting... you get to do a lot of things that you otherwise wouldn't. This safe place is quite comfortable - it's one of the towns, and people actually live there, There should be somewhere to stay. I just need to check something..."

He reached out with his mind. "Holy warp, this space marine - or whatever he is - is moving closer. This may be the time to run away..."