Season Three, Chapter Four
Man of the ClothIn the days following the Daemons, they did manage to scrape some concessions from the Authorities at the Fort and Art and a no longer quite so traumatised Dodger agreed with Zee for part of the State Bounty to go to McAllen and the rest to the Family of his friend Jan, of whom they never did find a single trace ! They had expected the Fort to be more gracious, but an additional patrol weekly was all they’d concede for now despite the death, which they argued this could not be attributed to the Daemons, “With certainty !”
Of more help was Father Fidem, a Priest, running Fort Speakes only School as well as Ministering to its population.
“Been a while since you Gentlemen frequented any educational establishment I’ll wager”, said the Father, “let alone a church !“, seeing off the last of his pupils for the week, “Come, for I do not believe this is a conversation the subject of which is suitable for all manner of ears !”
“What could you know of the purpose of our visit ?” asked Zee incredulously.
“I know you three seek answers to matters of dark doings and the foul creatures’ bought forth to carry them out !”
“How can…. “
“I have could I have ministered to the Guard all these years and not know the gossip at the local Fort ? Come now Gentlemen, what kind of question is that, Captain ?”
To say that caught Zee by surprise would be a gross understatement, for few new of his military career, let alone used his rank in conversation !
“That, Father, was another life, for now Zee will suffice,! Replied Zee, his voice suddenly steely, almost brutal. If looks could kill…..
“This way then Zee, Gentlemen,” indicated Father Fidem, ushering them through to to one of the Churches more private Chapels, where chairs were proffered . “Come Gentlemen, please do take a seat and tell me, how may I be of service ?”
“As you correctly surmised, we do come for answers concerning followers of the Dark Gods, specifically Daemons ! Two like these“, Art pulled a drawing from his pocket and handed it to the Father. The photo’s did….!
“Didn’t develop properly or failed to capture the image, despite several attempts you were trying to say ?And now, even the bodies have vanished, dissolved no ? Back into the Warp-stuff from whence they came !”
“Yes. That’s right. Do you know of these things ?”
The Father rose, excusing himself and left the Chapel, returning forthwith carrying an strange looking tomb with curled pages and that distinctive “Old-Book” aroma. He rested the book on the lectern and called them over,
“These fellows”, he said, pointing to an elaborately edged illustration that matched their Daemons to a T,
“These “Most Foul Beings” are his minions and do bring the Skulls of his enemies on which he might rest and their Blood to anoint his Great Brow. Gentlemen, they are known as Bloodletter’s !” The Father made the sign of the Aquila upon mentioning the word, before continuing, “They are minions, servants if you will. A Lesser Daemon of this God !” He flicked through the pages, “For this chap” he pointed to a hideous picture of a huge creature, similar in form but 10 -20 times larger, sitting atop a throne made entirely from hundreds probably thousands of skulls of all sizes and shapes, but most unmistakably Human.
“He is known a Khorne, God of War and one of the four Dark Gods of Chaos ! Let me try to explain.” the Father too sat down.
“The beings you fought were manifestations‘, a being of pure Warp energy’s physical projection into the Material Universe. A construct given form using the power of their state as Warp Entities. Imagine it as a projected film, where the images are solid. When you destroy the image however, you do not destroy the being itself, no more than destroying a projected image would destroy a film ! The residual form that remained, was the left-over power from the God who invest power themselves in the creation of their minions. That is why all the servants of a particular God bear some features of that God and so all look a little alike. Here, take some time to look through this, I will fetch us a drink, Zee, if you would be so kind as to assist me.”
Zee nodded and the two left Art and Dodge to their study.
“That was a bit below the belt Rodriguez !” Snapped Zee.
“Well you could have been straight with your guys, said you knew me !”
“I do know you, which is precisely why I didn’t. How was I to know what kind of gig you had going down here, cos the shit you used to play with was the sort that stuck !”
“Well you aren’t being straight with your guy’s, why would you of all people need to find out more about Daemon’s, they find a new one you aint fought yet? Oh, no wait, don’t tell me you are still doing the, you are you son of a bitch, you’re still doing the f*%$!ng Guard bit, that Nidd War Vet shit !”
“And you, just when and it what parallel universe did you start polishing the Emperors ring ? More to the point, the reason no-one does the Church when they drop out of sight is the down-side ! Have you seen, hell do you even know the penalty for “Blasphemous Acts ?” I do, had to hand over a few Blasphemers when I was working the Imperial. Picked up this one guy where the Officio Assassinorum and The Adeptus Ministorum had joint jurisdiction. Now this guy had fallen foul of the Officio Assassinorum before and as we know, the Assassins are not the best people to get on the wrong side of, but this guy is begging me to hand him over to them rather than the Ecclesiarchy. He was saying he’d rather go to the Clades than the Church !”
“Guess he didn’t have these then !”, at which ‘Father’ Rodriguez pulled a couple of Data Wafers from his vestments and handed them to Zee, the look on who’s face went slowly from one of concern to intense scrutiny, then dismay !
“We have both done some pretty low down scum sucking things in our time Rod, but. Huh, huh,” Zee half-heartedly laughed, “But we could say, “At least I’ve never worked for the Church !” Guess that just applies to me now”, Zee said, flipping the Data Wafers too the floor in disgust.
“Why Rod, what was so bad that the Ecclesiarchy looked better ? What was worse than the Church, I mean I‘m struggling here to find a reason, hell I want to find a reason I really do, but it ‘aint coming ?
The only “Lie“ I‘ve told my boys, hell even then it‘s just the young Lad as I‘ve known him less than two years and it‘s hard to get your head around for a grown man, is what part of the Imperial‘s I was with and the facts as to why them and I parted company. He knows I‘m a killer, that’s what we do in the Bounty business when our powers of persuasion fail an all. We bag-em and tag-em. Now that ’aint a whole heap of deception, not for me at any rate, and I can sleep some nights now. But the Church ? Hell - man, that’s some serious shite, given your day jobs teaching kiddies, kissing babies and comforting widows like its no big deal ?
So come-on Rod, help me out here, when was your epiphany, was it like having ‘The Emperor’ his self tap you on the shoulder ? Saint Rod, since you have killed so many, how’s about saving some, Iv…..”
Zee was off his feet without even seeing the fist that connected solidly with his jaw, but he was not so off guard he wasn’t able to hook Father Rodriguez’s legs out from under him on the way down and spin across, jamming his combat blade against the Priests throat !
Rolling aside, Zee sheathed his knife, rubbing his chin as he sat up.
“Son of a, you still work it then Rod !”
“And you still don’t know when to shut up ! It ever occur to that cynical mind of yours that I might have actually seen the light ? After Jo was killed I lost the plot some. Realised I had nothing, that my life was just “empty”! There was no-one gave a rats-arse if I was alive or Dead, cept bad men who paid me to do bad things worrying they might have to find someone who’d cost more ! I had no Family, no Friends, except you, and you were about less and less until one day you just never showed. They found you kit and your ID and enough of a body that was a DNA match, and so assumed you’d worked that last one too many or someone from your past had caught up with you and that was it, you were officially MIA, then in 6 months “Dead !”
But they never found “Lizzie“, nothing at your gaff no bits of her with you, nothing unusual there most would think, except you had no Ammo with you, no empties and no clips, no mag’s belt’s or drums ? That’s what convinced me all was not as it seemed even though that was the only mistake you’d made, otherwise for all intents and purpose’s you had disappeared perfectly ! Not a trace of you to be found. I had a drink to wish you farewell that lasted right through to the Autumn, until two Monks found me, inebriated, beat-up, robbed and not in the best of health. Took them 4 months to get me back fighting fit, and then I stayed behind for a further 4 months working on the Farm and helping teach, figured that would pay my debt to them for, well for basically “saving my shabby hide“. Also, forever with the angle, started off with the idea I may need patching up again some time, and if my slates clean it‘s not so hard to ask a 2nd time. Thing was, longer I stayed, less I wanted to leave. Three square a day and after the first month I was not looking over my shoulder at every turn. Found I had a gift with the Kid‘s too, being a big one for so long myself I suppose. Seemed to be able to get through even to the toughest of them, so they asked me to stay on you see, and weeks became months, the months became a year and here I am now six years down the line a fully fledged Priest. First time I ever chose to do something rather than it be something I was left doing.” Rod suddenly looked a good deal older than Zee remembered.
“Here, there’s me droning on, forgive my poor hospitality, think you‘ll like this !” With which Father Rodriguez poured Zee a mug of a very sweet and invigorating home-brewed herbal “Tea” from a large stoneware flask left warming by the fire. Then he was gone for a few moments whilst he delivered two mugs of the same to Art and Dodger.
Zee rubbed his chin, Rod’s right arm had lost done of it’s clout that was sure, but he had asked for that one. Provoked a response to see where the “Old Rod” lay.
“Thank you !” Zee said to Father Rodriguez on his return.
“They’re a good couple to have by you in all weathers and we’ve built ourselves a nice little business, mainly private calls through Fort Speake and all essentially
kosher. I found being “Dead” was fine but “Skint” sucked, this keeps good food on the table and a Speeder in the air.
Reason we’re here, Art’s seen Daemon’s, but not this close, the Lad Dodger had never seen them before and is understandably rattled.
“That’s why you are going to give him this !” said Zee pulling a waxed-paper parcel from an inside pocket and handing it to Father Rodriguez.
“Whoa ! You do not see many of those these day’s. Wont ask where you came by it. What an exceptional gift, you know it’s a ward, offers protection against magic’s intended to harm the bearer and I have seen or rather felt one work once. Guy was standing there in a torrent of witch-fire and didn’t get so much as a singed eye-brow. A lot depends upon the power of the blessing and a good one should have a very faint blue….“ Father Rodriguez’s words failed him as when cupped upright in his hand, Zee’s “Medallion” gave off a piercing blue light, before reverting to a steady glow.
“Like that ?“ said Zee.
“Just like that !“ agreed Rod, “Who blessed that, the Emperor himself ?” and the two men laughed as Rod delicately re-wrapped the Medallion, sliding it into his breast pocket.
“What a truly wonderful gift. Friendship always was important to you ! If that does not restore his faith and awaken his courage, can’t think what will !“ So finishing their Tea, the two men returned to Art and Dodger who were still leafing fervently through the ancient tome Father Rodriguez had left them to study !
“They sure fit the bill Zee, looks like we banished our first “Bloodletter’s”! Guess we can add “Banishing Daemon’s” to the Company blurb eh fella’s, sounds good don’t you reckon ?”
“Aye, sure does, but as with all things new, a fresh opponent requires fresh weaponry, and Father Rodriguez here is just the man for that. If you would Father !”
“Master Dodger, if you would be so kind as to kneel in the sight of the Emperor”, Father Rodriguez gestured to the bas-relief of the Emperor, whilst reaching inside his vestments as Dodger, somewhat self-consciously knelt.
“My son, for reaching out on our most glorious Masters behalf to strike down those that would prey upon the very souls of his subjects I hereby do award you his sign, so all those that do cast their eyes upon it will know upon who’s authority you act and who’s blessing is upon you in all such noble acts you do perform upon his behalf !
Hence forth you are now his Herald, an Agent of the Emperor in all you do, and that upon accepting his Authority, you will live your life in accordance to his will ! What say you ?”
“I will live my life in accordance to his will !” replied Dodger, beaming with pride and then with a look of awe, as Father Rodriguez hung the “Sign of the Emperor” on its gold chain round his neck and it glowed an even fiercer Blue as he let it fall to rest against the lads chest.
“May he watch over you and your in all that you do, and give you strength when all mortal strength may fail ! Arise, and go forth as an Agent of the Emperor !”
Art and Zee applauded for all their worth, and Father Rodriguez embraced Dodger, whispering in his ear,
“I know you will make him proud, and you are amongst good friends whom I know are also most proud of what you have accomplished . For to banish a Daemon is a great deed, but what is infinitely more, by so doing you banished your own fear, and that is one of the mightiest deeds a man could ever hope to achieve !”Then, holding Dodger’s hand high, Father Rodriguez exclaimed,
“For this is now a man that has gazed at the truly foul form of the enemy, a form with one singular purpose, to strike fear into the souls of man. But this man before us today has met that gaze and with the belief in the righteousness of his cause and the courage of his friends, has struck-down that which sought to bring harm to those who are mild and meek, too weak to fight such a monstrous evil who would prey upon them ! For this is truly a Noble-Man !”
More applause and congratulations, and the Tea was soon replaced with wine and more glasses as the odd member of Father Rodriguez‘s Congregation called by. All were eagerly introduced to the “Daemon-Slayer” and regaled with tales of great daring, the kind of tales Zee had hoped Dodge would hear and that these might come to mind again when all other hopes seem lost ! For these would become the bed-rock of a newly carved “courage” and hard earned “Belief-in-Self” that would serve him well in times to come, for something had already assured Zee that this was far from over. If anything, it felt more like they were at a beginning, and whatever way you sized it up, it did not look good !
“Dodger, or should that be Sir Dodger” laughed Zee with a mock bow.
“I trust that gift will serve you as well as it did those whom before it shielded against the fell magic’s of Chaos my friend, ! Also, as I like to think I’m a man of my word, a little something for when it gets up tight and personal until we finesse your style with a close-combat weapon ! Here,” Zee handed Dodge another package, “From Art and I as a solid, “Welcome to the Firm”! Your names on the letter heads, in fact all the stationary and advertising, so here’s your cards !”
Dodge opened the package, and indeed, his name was on their business cards, but also, as part of “To our good friend and Associate, Art n’ Zee” intricately engraved into the stock of a very fine Mars Pattern Mark IV Command Laspistol ! So fine, it looked as though it had never fired a single shot in anger.“Thought that was the one for you and I’ve made Zee promise he’ll not blow this one up Dodge. Welcome to the Firm, as of now you are a full 1/3 rd Partner ! That’s capitol, assets, property and debts !”And the three enjoyed a well earned joke, in the face of a new beginning, one that was going to warrant a whole new take upon their situation !
That night, the almost second thoughts nature of their weekly strategic planning meeting took on an all together far more formal air ! It also for the first time ever, had set out four chairs’! The fourth had to be unbolted from “Eileen II” , as interior décor was no-ones strong point and they had no fourth chair. Visitors were a rarity indeed ! At 8.30 pm precisely, the internal com went. “Access requested at South-Eastern Quadrant Gate No.3, Single-Male, no weaponry detected. Compound Scan indicates the following: £rd finger-left hand a Cyborg replacement. Legal/registered repair, Parts No‘s, RT 111784, 111785, 111.” …Zee hits fast forward…. “ Beta-thymine 0.7 microgram’s in susp…” and again “….XENIX Acid, residual. ++end+++ . Finally, I mean there is secure and ridiculously secure. Right, try to get this the first time !“ Mumbled a clearly agitated Zee.
“Security Code Alpha 04903070b - Suspend - Reduce internal to Delta - @ incapacitate - Continue to run enhanced Alpha on external - Confirm Alpha 04903070b. “ How I really miss just saying Hi !” Mused Zee pushing another button, one that flipped the control panel, leaving an unremarkable pict in it’s wake, a Black and White of “Eileen II” half way through restoration. This one saw her stripped to the skeletal frame-work which Art, pictured standing to the side with welding mask up and oxy-acetylene torch in hand, had just illegally lengthened. He had also added a third seat and optional internal stowage or room for a fourth seat. They could have gone for a larger Speeder, but it was quite a gap to the next level, one with a lot more HP and therefore a great deal heavier, noisier and altogether larger and so less discrete, not at all what they wanted. It also used a different registration technique, meaning it was less likely to get lost in the teaming requests for domestic vehicle registration. Cogitators’ had made un-registered or false registration instantly recognisable and so pointless, though you could get away with alterations to what you had to some degree, and that was all the window Art needed to get through !
“Evening Gentlemen” said Father Rodriguez with mock flourish, in response to which Zee arose to do the honours.
“Dodger you know and Art I’m sure you remember, guys, this is Father “Fidem” Rodriguez, ex Imperial, ex one of our types, not good with false names and way more comfortable with Father Rod. Anymore you want to know you could Cogitate, but it would be far quicker, not to mention polite to ask. Next FAQ, can I trust him’ this is like “for real” and if I can’t, I could wind up dead ! Hell, you could skip that question with “Hey, do we even need this chump ?” We have managed thus far with three and yeah, there are now Daemons, but as we’ve seen Daemon’s go down and there are big books about them and entire sections on the “Unsanctified” sections of the “Cogitative Portal”* on how to nail their scaly, unholy-arses !
*Bit like the legal and in some less forward thinking Countries the - boo-hiss grossly unfair, denier of freedom of speech -“Illegal” internet
“To address those in order, I have known Father Rodriguez, Rod and you “son-of-a-bitch !” for some years. That has been through some thick and thin times and I have never once called for help and it gone un-answered ! If that is how you measure “Trust”, then I trust him 100%.
Second. Do we need him, as we can get info from “The Dove” now, faster and better than ever and from every Cogitative Portal in the Land, straight to our VDU’s, or when Art’s latest work is complete, to our HUD’s, Head-up-Displays, in other words, straight to our helmets with no middle man !
But, as all of us know, knowing the path, is not the same as walking the path, never was, never will be ! Cogitators can give you all the information, but that is their limit, they can give you every minute detail but still fail to give you an answer ! No, its more than information that’s required, what’s also needed is experience of the enemy, and that is one thing Father Rodriguez has in spades.
There is also no guarantee that he would want in for this one anyway, as before right now, as my allegiance is to the two of you above all other considerations, I’ve not asked him ! Questions as I’m done “ And with that Zee sat back,
“Strikes me we have little to lose” said Dodge. “Seems to me that if we don’t find the source of these Daemons and put a stop to it, chance s are when there are enough of them they’ll find us, so the only real choice is do we go for it, or find another planet, for I cant imagine they’d stop with Fort Speake and think, ah job well done lad‘s, lets settle here for a bit !”“”Eileen II” will take an extra seat “ was Art’s considered reply, economical but full. “But before I bolt it in, I’d like to be sure we can work together as a Team !”
“Understood,” said Zee. “So we take the Father on something prior, to see if he is the round peg for our round hole. A Rookie-Run !” At which all eyes turned to the Father.
“Well Gentlemen, it would appear you have me at your advantage. I do have one consideration though, I need to be sure that the Church can cover my duties, for as I explained to Zee, this is no rouse on my part, the Children need a teacher and the Church a Priest as minister to the congregation and offer spiritual guidance to the community. That my absence not be disruptive is my one caveat !”
“Best you get hold of your.. Bishop is it to ask for time-out ? Said Zee. “Then I suggest we reconvene in one week from today to see what gives. I’ll leave the outfitting of “Eileen II” for you to discuss with Art, your handedness etc. Talk with Dodger about you equipment needs, I’m sure he can fill much of it from our stock and then arrange the procurement of any “additional items”. Just try to refrain from anything to eye-catching or exotic, and he has a good head for figures, so don’t go taking the proverbial ! If there is anywhere we should not go and people we should not meet, then you need to make that clear to me before I select our “trip“ and should there be any difficulties these two cannot overcome, which I sincerely doubt, you bring them and an explanation to me, then the three of us will make the call !”
Mk
Monday 21 April 2014
Thursday 17 April 2014
Theater 3 chapter 3
“Free Bird”
Zee was feeding his breakfast scraps to the Ravens, for Corvids had done well from mans wasteful lives, scavengers of all sorts thrived and business had been booming, though he would take some convincing that was a good thing. There was something in the air that didn’t sit right for him, a memory half repressed, a familiar smell he just could not place…and the harder he thought, the further away it seemed to get.
"You endangering the wildlife with your cooking again Zee ?”
The subtle whir of servo’s alone would identify the culprit of that remark had he not known the voice as well as his own.
“Morning to you to Art, your unnaturally…”
“Awake ! Yeah, couldn’t sleep.”
“You too, must be catching”.
“What do your feathered friends tell you Zee ?”
“I’m not even sure what to ask them Art. You been on the Vox yet today, find any new gigs ? It’s been two weeks and the work was pouring in, now its just dried up on us, what the Sam Hill is going on ?”
“Knout, Nada, nothing gives this fine day”, Art slung his half eaten toast out into the building rain, but the Raven’s were long gone to drier quarters.
“We could canopy-up and take Eileen to the slopes ?”, he half-heartedly suggested.
“That can be a bit risky even with the lid down Art, if they pop flakk we need all the visibility we can get !”
“We do have the decoy cluster launchers, they’re good for 4 or 5 incoming for sure.”
“You tested them Art ? We’d need better than that, especially flying for scoops, man I thought those days were behind us.”
“Then maybe I have the answer, or at least part of it if you will let me show you what’s been keeping me up nights, come to my lab !”
And it dawned on Zee that he had once again fallen for the uncle Art lecture tour, but was forced to admit, Art had surpassed himself this time, over the past few months since completing the up-grades to “Eileen II”, he had been building a UAV, a remotely piloted drone and it was awesome !
He’d used mainly standard components, but the genius lay not just in their choice, but the way he had combined them and rather than attempt to make a failing utilitarian one size fits all UAV, he had made several interchangeable suites to bolt on as mission parameters may dictate. Power came from a single Hawk 11CK jet engine with variable venting to allow full VTOL capability allowing operations without relying on a tug to get airbourne. There was a passive and an active search suite, advanced communications relay to aid tracking, both with a live and close-up stills pict feed. Hell there was even a cogitator module to enable unpredictable defensive manoeuvres’ if attacked from the air or with self guided or remote missiles. Where he had stopped short, was an all out offensive model, his argument being they were available ”off-the-peg” and he was right, most R and D was in offensive UAV’s. Besides, Art argued why would we need one, we were typically covert low profile, not about to single-handedly launch the 2nd Crusade and anyone who wanted a lot more muscle went to the Officio Assassinorum.
So, unperturbed at the thought of getting his new toy wet, Art ensured Dodge was ejected from his bed and dragged out for the inaugural flight of, what after a protracted and occasionally heated debate, in part a testimony to its passive characteristics and with no small amount of irony, became known as “The Dove”. It also helped that Art had sprayed the thing gray and a Dove was the first gray bird they could conjure up !
“It handles like a dream, Art, this will give us a serious edge when it comes down to small targets in big places, the hours it would take in Eileen, not to mention the gallons of gas she gets through.” enthused Zee.
“That was the main idea, the fact that almost every job involves serious arse-numbing hours crammed in Eileen who was, lets face it, not built for comfort, and I would never sleep at all if I thought too long and hard about the number of times we have nearly been blown from the skies !“
“So you figured there had to be a better way, well I’m a living testimonial to right you were on that one, I….“ the Vox cut Dodges gushing admiration for Art’s creation mercifully brief.
“That was McAllen from below the slopes, says he had been having problems with sheep being mutilated, so he went out, as did two of his friends and his son and has not seen nor heard from one of them for almost three days. He contacted the Fort, and they told him they would release missing persons reports on the guy if he didn’t show after a week !” “And so let me guess,“ chipped in Art, “he was less than happy and would us to take a look, no ?”
“Doesn’t sound like Bounty Hunting to me ?” said Dodge. “Sounds like someone needs to go back to the legal’s at the Fort and ask more to be done if he is saying he knows who did it. If he doesn’t, then it is a missing person‘s gig.”
“This is one we could do pro-bono, like for the Community.” explained Art, “People around us are asking for help they’ll not get any other way. Fort wont listen, no money or powerful opinions to consider, so who do they go to ?”explained Zee, “and its not like we are snowed under with work gentlemen !”
First task was to contact McAllen for last sightings, the area his holding covered and where his livestock had been harmed, as much background as possible. Two of the sheep had died, their carcasses disposed of, Zee went to see the third whilst Dodge and Art set up “the Dove” to perform a parallel grid search with the ridge as the fixed point, any sheep or McAllen‘s hand’s that had crossed there were as good as dead.
“So this is the animal ?” asked Zee, having climbed to one of McAllen‘s lambing sheds with him, and although he was no expert, he was only too readily able to recognise the fear in the creature, it was almost palpable.
“What do you think happened “ asked Zee ?
“it’s the same lot that had sheep away from me these last two years, law won’t touch them !” a depressing tale Zee and Art heard far too many times, McAllen was too small a cog for the machine to be compromised, no matter that these animals kept his family alive and now a friend was missing. That he was a single man was the only fortunate note to the tail, for there would not be one more widow left to starve on the “Support” the Imperial Administrators should be providing.
Zee had a closer look at the animal, no easy task as it shied from him in out right panic, but what he could see puzzled him greatly.
“They usually this distressed some, what must be almost eleven days and this ewe seems as scared as if it happened only yesterday ?”
“Trouble is Zee, no-one knows what those bastards do to make their “sport” with these animals, so its hard too tell, but I see what you mean. I’ve seen sheep trapped in the snows for 4 or 5 days, starving and unable to move that were not as panicked as this one. She don’t sleep, hardly eats, so I’m having the surgeon back to see what she says.”
“Let me know will you McAllen, and we will take a look for you.”
“Afraid I can’t pay you that much..”
“Don’t have to, spoke with Art, this ones on us, we don‘t just take Mr. McAllen.”
Dodge and Art’s parallel grid search had been running for 2 day’s and although they could plot every animal on that graze, there was no sign at all of any human interlopers’ and yet the distressed Vox from McAllen confirmed another fatality. With Art running “the Dove”, Zee took Dodger with him to ground zero, and what they saw explained the jittery timbre of the Shepherds’ tone on the Vox. This animal had quite literally been torn to pieces, covering an area of some 12 - 15 foot. It was although the unfortunate animal had been hit by a grenade, but the flesh had most definitely been torn, not blasted. Zee could think of no satisfactory explanation.
“Any ideas Dodger ?” Although he looked as though priority one was hanging onto his lunch, he mumbled “Dreadnought“, then had to walk back to Eileen and sit with his head in his hands for a while. Zee and McAllen walked the scene, looking for something, anything that might give some idea as to who or what did this. As “the Dove” passed over, Zee keyed into it’s advanced communications’ relay putting the entirety of the Scarp Lodge‘s cogitative powers, it’s links and Art at his disposal.
“Impressive”, said Zee, and in a voice that could not have been clearer were he standing next to him, “That even you can use it ?“ came Arts dry humoured response.
“Ha bloody ha, you need some new material my friend. No, this you plank, with this much capacity, we become far more independent, can do follow-ups there and then rather than at the arse end of the day when we get back to Scarp Lodge totally knackered and not thinking fit !”
“Gets my vote ! What service might I perform for you today oh mighty Zee ?”
“Why would Dodge mention “Dreadnought” ?”
“Probably because if the animal has been ripped apart, it was probably not by something man sized, due to the shortness of the limbs, whoever or whatever did that would have had to stand on one part of the Animal and grab another to do so, and whilst the first tear would have been difficult, all the subsequent goes, with all that blood ? You could question if even wearing TacticalDreadnought Armour would let you do that, whereas for the real-deal, a Dreadnought, it would be comparatively easy !”
“Easy to spot too, a Dreadnought out here on a cliff face, on this graze strip, I mean it’s not exactlyDreadnought friendly, and why sheep, with all that power you’d be knocking over Banks and buying Islands and the like ! The thermal imaging on “the Dove” is good for what, half mile each side if its flight path, so we can do the math. How fast would it needed to move to be get inside the grid then back to over a half mile out for a subsequent pass to not to intercept it ? That would have to be one speedy Dreadnought if I’m right , and over this terrain ?”
“Well yeah, yes, that would take a entirely re-engineered Dreadnought, something that far from the STC we’d have heard about surely, any how I’ll do the math, no more guesstimates, though.
A less than happy looking Dodger tapped Zee on the shoulder, still pale he did seem to have regained his speech, this time to form a further puzzler.
“Ogryn ?” a suggestion that had real merit, and whilst more feasible than a Dreadnought they again lacked any physical evidence of such a presence. It hit the same wall, just from a different angle. There were no foot prints, DNA, few signs of anything beyond pure malice. It began to look increasingly like the one option open to them was to back-pedal their technological advances, for a good old fashioned “night in the woods“, so to speak. Zee could just see the look on Art‘s face when he raised the matter.
Putting Dodger through the mill still niggled, but the logic was sound. Firstly he had had a free choice, and better he loose his lunch in a friendly than his life in a real match. It had been a long three days to be no further forward, so they sat to plan that night after a meal, just fish and pasta, the taste for meat having declined of late. They went at it from the top as per, beginning with a base line of “facts” that was somewhat sparse, ruling out more than any inclusive grouping.
Predation - Unlikely as little evidence of any of the carcasses being “consumed”;
Rustlers - Unlikely, where is the angle for profit;
Protection Racket - No demands’ and destroying so many stock animals works against the racketeers:
…………..
…………..
And so the list went on, means to carry out the Act remained a big one, laying close to the heart of the puzzle. Then there was McAllen’s friend, of whom even the desk-jockey’s at the Fort now had listed as “Missing”, hooray for progress ! Of this Jan, there was no sign whatsoever ? Zee had spoken to anyone locally who would speak, revealing little, just the odd superstitions and even these were inconsistent. Then there were the wounded animal, traumatised and with odd injuries, unlike anything Zee had encountered before. It was they finally agreed, going to have to be done the hard way, “a night out “ just as they used to.
That remains of day and much of the following were therefore surrendered to forcing sleep, interspersed with cramming food and thoroughly preparing, checking and re-checking kit. No-one was assuming anything about this one, other than this would not be easy. Fighting what you can see, what you know could be hard, few probably appreciated that more. Fighting what you could not see, what you did not know, how do you prepare for that ? Whatever had done for those mountain sheep, would do for the three of them with relative ease, but they did have eyes and ears in “the Dove” as the like they had never known before. Zee spent a couple of hours over the still’s, Art had used cogitative enhancement to build these into 3D topographical images that could be viewed from 360 degrees, perfect to set themselves up with overlapping fields of fire, the last kill as ground zero for want of a better idea. Art then pre-programmed “the Dove” with three distinct flight plans, covering the area in concentric ring, each distinct enough to be recognisable from the ground, set to change on the hour. He jury-rigged three drop-tanks, to give an extended flight time of 14 hour, low as it was entirely powered, whereas a pilot would ease some of that with glides and thermal‘s, getting an additional 50% maybe. McAllen’s offer of support was graciously declined, they needed it tight and he was an unknown, in a world that all of a sudden contained them in abundance. The one deviation Art suggested, was three anti-personnel mines at the centre, a fail safe position they all appreciated, but an opportunity to draw “first blood” all three were content to try, every break they could get ! The mines were used, but with a 175% Sheep Weight Trip !
Zee hadn’t realised he’d missed the contact with the earth, the land that in the last few weeks he had let become remote, distant. It worried him how easily and eagerly they had allowed themselves to depend upon systems and displays rather than keep faith in and trust their own senses, vowing never to let that happen again ! Here he felt a greater sense of self, a surety and calm he only now sensed had been absent in the wires and VDU’s. Here he felt more comfortable. With the IR glasses, Zee scanned the rising bluffs of the cliffs to his right and left, dipping down the drop that ended in the graze, an ink black scar cut from the sky that ran back into the pale folds of the Limestone. The night was close and quiet, punctuated only by the occasional chatter of bats or the nearby drum of insects, the scuff of a hoof or a low bleating from some distant sheep. Neither sight nor sound of anything out of place all night, save the far away hum of “The Dove‘s” turbo high-up on her frequent passes. The ash grey light of the dawn bought with it no change, save the occasional cloud shadow as the weak sun made the odd brief foray from behind their gathering banks and the mournful day shift of October bird song took up from the dawn chorus. Come 9.30, they called it a day, falling back to the pre-prepared position high up in the same cliffs that had their backs all night, to their tents, stores and fuel cache to prep “The Dove” so they could slide as inconspicuously as possible into a second night outdoors.
“Well that pretty much tied in with the feeds we were getting.” said Art. ”The Dove” saw what we saw, as he whizzed randomly through the stored stills on one of the base monitors. “Always good to have a 1st person confirmation that what we saw was what we got.”
Zee was feeding his breakfast scraps to the Ravens, for Corvids had done well from mans wasteful lives, scavengers of all sorts thrived and business had been booming, though he would take some convincing that was a good thing. There was something in the air that didn’t sit right for him, a memory half repressed, a familiar smell he just could not place…and the harder he thought, the further away it seemed to get.
"You endangering the wildlife with your cooking again Zee ?”
The subtle whir of servo’s alone would identify the culprit of that remark had he not known the voice as well as his own.
“Morning to you to Art, your unnaturally…”
“Awake ! Yeah, couldn’t sleep.”
“You too, must be catching”.
“What do your feathered friends tell you Zee ?”
“I’m not even sure what to ask them Art. You been on the Vox yet today, find any new gigs ? It’s been two weeks and the work was pouring in, now its just dried up on us, what the Sam Hill is going on ?”
“Knout, Nada, nothing gives this fine day”, Art slung his half eaten toast out into the building rain, but the Raven’s were long gone to drier quarters.
“We could canopy-up and take Eileen to the slopes ?”, he half-heartedly suggested.
“That can be a bit risky even with the lid down Art, if they pop flakk we need all the visibility we can get !”
“We do have the decoy cluster launchers, they’re good for 4 or 5 incoming for sure.”
“You tested them Art ? We’d need better than that, especially flying for scoops, man I thought those days were behind us.”
“Then maybe I have the answer, or at least part of it if you will let me show you what’s been keeping me up nights, come to my lab !”
And it dawned on Zee that he had once again fallen for the uncle Art lecture tour, but was forced to admit, Art had surpassed himself this time, over the past few months since completing the up-grades to “Eileen II”, he had been building a UAV, a remotely piloted drone and it was awesome !
He’d used mainly standard components, but the genius lay not just in their choice, but the way he had combined them and rather than attempt to make a failing utilitarian one size fits all UAV, he had made several interchangeable suites to bolt on as mission parameters may dictate. Power came from a single Hawk 11CK jet engine with variable venting to allow full VTOL capability allowing operations without relying on a tug to get airbourne. There was a passive and an active search suite, advanced communications relay to aid tracking, both with a live and close-up stills pict feed. Hell there was even a cogitator module to enable unpredictable defensive manoeuvres’ if attacked from the air or with self guided or remote missiles. Where he had stopped short, was an all out offensive model, his argument being they were available ”off-the-peg” and he was right, most R and D was in offensive UAV’s. Besides, Art argued why would we need one, we were typically covert low profile, not about to single-handedly launch the 2nd Crusade and anyone who wanted a lot more muscle went to the Officio Assassinorum.
So, unperturbed at the thought of getting his new toy wet, Art ensured Dodge was ejected from his bed and dragged out for the inaugural flight of, what after a protracted and occasionally heated debate, in part a testimony to its passive characteristics and with no small amount of irony, became known as “The Dove”. It also helped that Art had sprayed the thing gray and a Dove was the first gray bird they could conjure up !
“It handles like a dream, Art, this will give us a serious edge when it comes down to small targets in big places, the hours it would take in Eileen, not to mention the gallons of gas she gets through.” enthused Zee.
“That was the main idea, the fact that almost every job involves serious arse-numbing hours crammed in Eileen who was, lets face it, not built for comfort, and I would never sleep at all if I thought too long and hard about the number of times we have nearly been blown from the skies !“
“So you figured there had to be a better way, well I’m a living testimonial to right you were on that one, I….“ the Vox cut Dodges gushing admiration for Art’s creation mercifully brief.
“That was McAllen from below the slopes, says he had been having problems with sheep being mutilated, so he went out, as did two of his friends and his son and has not seen nor heard from one of them for almost three days. He contacted the Fort, and they told him they would release missing persons reports on the guy if he didn’t show after a week !” “And so let me guess,“ chipped in Art, “he was less than happy and would us to take a look, no ?”
“Doesn’t sound like Bounty Hunting to me ?” said Dodge. “Sounds like someone needs to go back to the legal’s at the Fort and ask more to be done if he is saying he knows who did it. If he doesn’t, then it is a missing person‘s gig.”
“This is one we could do pro-bono, like for the Community.” explained Art, “People around us are asking for help they’ll not get any other way. Fort wont listen, no money or powerful opinions to consider, so who do they go to ?”explained Zee, “and its not like we are snowed under with work gentlemen !”
First task was to contact McAllen for last sightings, the area his holding covered and where his livestock had been harmed, as much background as possible. Two of the sheep had died, their carcasses disposed of, Zee went to see the third whilst Dodge and Art set up “the Dove” to perform a parallel grid search with the ridge as the fixed point, any sheep or McAllen‘s hand’s that had crossed there were as good as dead.
“So this is the animal ?” asked Zee, having climbed to one of McAllen‘s lambing sheds with him, and although he was no expert, he was only too readily able to recognise the fear in the creature, it was almost palpable.
“What do you think happened “ asked Zee ?
“it’s the same lot that had sheep away from me these last two years, law won’t touch them !” a depressing tale Zee and Art heard far too many times, McAllen was too small a cog for the machine to be compromised, no matter that these animals kept his family alive and now a friend was missing. That he was a single man was the only fortunate note to the tail, for there would not be one more widow left to starve on the “Support” the Imperial Administrators should be providing.
Zee had a closer look at the animal, no easy task as it shied from him in out right panic, but what he could see puzzled him greatly.
“They usually this distressed some, what must be almost eleven days and this ewe seems as scared as if it happened only yesterday ?”
“Trouble is Zee, no-one knows what those bastards do to make their “sport” with these animals, so its hard too tell, but I see what you mean. I’ve seen sheep trapped in the snows for 4 or 5 days, starving and unable to move that were not as panicked as this one. She don’t sleep, hardly eats, so I’m having the surgeon back to see what she says.”
“Let me know will you McAllen, and we will take a look for you.”
“Afraid I can’t pay you that much..”
“Don’t have to, spoke with Art, this ones on us, we don‘t just take Mr. McAllen.”
Dodge and Art’s parallel grid search had been running for 2 day’s and although they could plot every animal on that graze, there was no sign at all of any human interlopers’ and yet the distressed Vox from McAllen confirmed another fatality. With Art running “the Dove”, Zee took Dodger with him to ground zero, and what they saw explained the jittery timbre of the Shepherds’ tone on the Vox. This animal had quite literally been torn to pieces, covering an area of some 12 - 15 foot. It was although the unfortunate animal had been hit by a grenade, but the flesh had most definitely been torn, not blasted. Zee could think of no satisfactory explanation.
“Any ideas Dodger ?” Although he looked as though priority one was hanging onto his lunch, he mumbled “Dreadnought“, then had to walk back to Eileen and sit with his head in his hands for a while. Zee and McAllen walked the scene, looking for something, anything that might give some idea as to who or what did this. As “the Dove” passed over, Zee keyed into it’s advanced communications’ relay putting the entirety of the Scarp Lodge‘s cogitative powers, it’s links and Art at his disposal.
“Impressive”, said Zee, and in a voice that could not have been clearer were he standing next to him, “That even you can use it ?“ came Arts dry humoured response.
“Ha bloody ha, you need some new material my friend. No, this you plank, with this much capacity, we become far more independent, can do follow-ups there and then rather than at the arse end of the day when we get back to Scarp Lodge totally knackered and not thinking fit !”
“Gets my vote ! What service might I perform for you today oh mighty Zee ?”
“Why would Dodge mention “Dreadnought” ?”
“Probably because if the animal has been ripped apart, it was probably not by something man sized, due to the shortness of the limbs, whoever or whatever did that would have had to stand on one part of the Animal and grab another to do so, and whilst the first tear would have been difficult, all the subsequent goes, with all that blood ? You could question if even wearing TacticalDreadnought Armour would let you do that, whereas for the real-deal, a Dreadnought, it would be comparatively easy !”
“Easy to spot too, a Dreadnought out here on a cliff face, on this graze strip, I mean it’s not exactlyDreadnought friendly, and why sheep, with all that power you’d be knocking over Banks and buying Islands and the like ! The thermal imaging on “the Dove” is good for what, half mile each side if its flight path, so we can do the math. How fast would it needed to move to be get inside the grid then back to over a half mile out for a subsequent pass to not to intercept it ? That would have to be one speedy Dreadnought if I’m right , and over this terrain ?”
“Well yeah, yes, that would take a entirely re-engineered Dreadnought, something that far from the STC we’d have heard about surely, any how I’ll do the math, no more guesstimates, though.
A less than happy looking Dodger tapped Zee on the shoulder, still pale he did seem to have regained his speech, this time to form a further puzzler.
“Ogryn ?” a suggestion that had real merit, and whilst more feasible than a Dreadnought they again lacked any physical evidence of such a presence. It hit the same wall, just from a different angle. There were no foot prints, DNA, few signs of anything beyond pure malice. It began to look increasingly like the one option open to them was to back-pedal their technological advances, for a good old fashioned “night in the woods“, so to speak. Zee could just see the look on Art‘s face when he raised the matter.
Putting Dodger through the mill still niggled, but the logic was sound. Firstly he had had a free choice, and better he loose his lunch in a friendly than his life in a real match. It had been a long three days to be no further forward, so they sat to plan that night after a meal, just fish and pasta, the taste for meat having declined of late. They went at it from the top as per, beginning with a base line of “facts” that was somewhat sparse, ruling out more than any inclusive grouping.
Predation - Unlikely as little evidence of any of the carcasses being “consumed”;
Rustlers - Unlikely, where is the angle for profit;
Protection Racket - No demands’ and destroying so many stock animals works against the racketeers:
…………..
…………..
And so the list went on, means to carry out the Act remained a big one, laying close to the heart of the puzzle. Then there was McAllen’s friend, of whom even the desk-jockey’s at the Fort now had listed as “Missing”, hooray for progress ! Of this Jan, there was no sign whatsoever ? Zee had spoken to anyone locally who would speak, revealing little, just the odd superstitions and even these were inconsistent. Then there were the wounded animal, traumatised and with odd injuries, unlike anything Zee had encountered before. It was they finally agreed, going to have to be done the hard way, “a night out “ just as they used to.
That remains of day and much of the following were therefore surrendered to forcing sleep, interspersed with cramming food and thoroughly preparing, checking and re-checking kit. No-one was assuming anything about this one, other than this would not be easy. Fighting what you can see, what you know could be hard, few probably appreciated that more. Fighting what you could not see, what you did not know, how do you prepare for that ? Whatever had done for those mountain sheep, would do for the three of them with relative ease, but they did have eyes and ears in “the Dove” as the like they had never known before. Zee spent a couple of hours over the still’s, Art had used cogitative enhancement to build these into 3D topographical images that could be viewed from 360 degrees, perfect to set themselves up with overlapping fields of fire, the last kill as ground zero for want of a better idea. Art then pre-programmed “the Dove” with three distinct flight plans, covering the area in concentric ring, each distinct enough to be recognisable from the ground, set to change on the hour. He jury-rigged three drop-tanks, to give an extended flight time of 14 hour, low as it was entirely powered, whereas a pilot would ease some of that with glides and thermal‘s, getting an additional 50% maybe. McAllen’s offer of support was graciously declined, they needed it tight and he was an unknown, in a world that all of a sudden contained them in abundance. The one deviation Art suggested, was three anti-personnel mines at the centre, a fail safe position they all appreciated, but an opportunity to draw “first blood” all three were content to try, every break they could get ! The mines were used, but with a 175% Sheep Weight Trip !
Zee hadn’t realised he’d missed the contact with the earth, the land that in the last few weeks he had let become remote, distant. It worried him how easily and eagerly they had allowed themselves to depend upon systems and displays rather than keep faith in and trust their own senses, vowing never to let that happen again ! Here he felt a greater sense of self, a surety and calm he only now sensed had been absent in the wires and VDU’s. Here he felt more comfortable. With the IR glasses, Zee scanned the rising bluffs of the cliffs to his right and left, dipping down the drop that ended in the graze, an ink black scar cut from the sky that ran back into the pale folds of the Limestone. The night was close and quiet, punctuated only by the occasional chatter of bats or the nearby drum of insects, the scuff of a hoof or a low bleating from some distant sheep. Neither sight nor sound of anything out of place all night, save the far away hum of “The Dove‘s” turbo high-up on her frequent passes. The ash grey light of the dawn bought with it no change, save the occasional cloud shadow as the weak sun made the odd brief foray from behind their gathering banks and the mournful day shift of October bird song took up from the dawn chorus. Come 9.30, they called it a day, falling back to the pre-prepared position high up in the same cliffs that had their backs all night, to their tents, stores and fuel cache to prep “The Dove” so they could slide as inconspicuously as possible into a second night outdoors.
“Well that pretty much tied in with the feeds we were getting.” said Art. ”The Dove” saw what we saw, as he whizzed randomly through the stored stills on one of the base monitors. “Always good to have a 1st person confirmation that what we saw was what we got.”
“It can record pissed-off and an aching arse that thing, can it ?” Laughed Dodger, “Because that’s what I got last night !“
“Stop winging Dodge, less you can come up with a better plan, especially as you and Zee get first rest, I’ve still got 4 hours watch to go, which you are welcome to take you know, just have to ask !”
“Think I’ll pass thanks Art, see you in four” at which a clearly uncomfortable Dodge slipped off to his tent.
“Happy days !” exclaimed Zee getting the burner going under some coffee and food always seemed a bright idea after an empty night, “No point having empty bellies too huh Art !”“You deactivate the mines ?“ Art called after Dodge ?
“Yah !“ tumbled back an already sleep fringed reply.
Stretched back in his tent, Zee could hear Art tinkering with “The Dove‘s” systems and would be until she was so high once more he couldn’t reach. Some times he too yearned for that compulsion, that heady sense of driven in which he could lose himself, but he knew it was not for all and indeed to some it was a curse. He still could not shake his sense of unease, that niggling worry that eventually decided his siesta was a sentence and so gave up treating it in any other regard and got up.
“Off for a scout about Art” he called over,
“Cool !“ came the slightly distracted reply, and grabbing a lighter Combat Shotgun from its holster in “Eileen II‘s” passenger compartment, he was off, though not sure whereto. First he skirted the natural amphitheatre wherein lay their ambush zone, ground zero for the fire fight that would topple this miscreant Sheep-Stealer, murderer. Then from the lip of that ridge, he ascended by as direct a route as possible, circumventing the area’s of ‘Pavement’ to obtain the crest, where Zee knelt and withdrew a large package from his pack. From this, he withdrew an object with which he had a long and somewhat uncomfortable relationship, a Misaer Blade !
Originally a gift from his Uncle Pietri his fathers younger Brother, it was a weapon with a considerably salacious past before ever coming into his possession.
According to family records it is believed to have been created sometime toward the start of Old Night around the 25th Millennium from Metallurgical analysis, although different samples had apparently given different dates. The sword was of an old Terran, Eastern European design, with its single cutting edge suggesting a fighting as opposed to duelling weapon. It is not clear when it entered the Family, but some say it returned with an Ancestor from the Great Crusade around the 32nd Millennium.
One thing is certain, it has on more than one occasion been the cause of great Family crisis, one Great-grandfather having being given the Death Penalty for having used it to behead his wife’s lover, another to take his own life by Seppuku, Japanese ritual suicide, having lost most of the Family Wealth and Estates at Cards.
For Zee, it had come with him when he received the obligatory Family Commission, reaching as he did the Rank of Captain in the Imperial Guard’s 99th Elysian Drop Troops Regiment/Detachment D-99. A Veteran of more than 17 Combat Drops, he was Severely Injured whilst fighting against the Tyranids of Hive Fleet Kraken’ leading to his being Honourably Discharged !
It was with this Sword that Zee first took a human life, that of a mortally wounded fellow Trooper, who would have been unable to be evacuated before the position they occupied was overrun by ripper-swarms. So why strangely now felt like the time to get reacquainted, he had no idea, but the return of movements he had thought forgotten, alone on the ridge devoured the next two hours in the blink of an eye.
“You look…….all the better for that walk, have to tell me the route sometime ?” Art smiled as he saw the almost contented look on his Zee’s face.
“Will do my friend, what gives with the Grumpy Bunny ? He still sparko ?”
“Will do my friend, what gives with the Grumpy Bunny ? He still sparko ?”
“Sure is, guess he needed it more than we thought, even slept through breakfast. Plan B still plan B for tonight or you want to shake things up a little ?”
“How so ?” asked Zee.
“I don’t know.” said Art, “Maybe just alternate our positions, move us all round one. Stop familiarity breeding contempt an all that. Sometimes just a new spot livens you up some, those memories of the last quiet night not replacing what you see or hear in this one.“
“Sounds like a plan, all one Clock-wise then, or East for you. Yeah, like the sound of that, we’ve been getting a little lazy of late, have you noticed ?”
“Yeah ! All this, “ Art indicated “The Dove” and all it’s paraphernalia with the sweep of his arm, “Kinda sucks you in to a bubble sometimes, can give a man a false sense of security that’s not in our best interest. I think that’s why I went for passive suite’s, I wanted an and, an also not aninstead of for us down here and even so it still tries to lull you, just something we have to be wary of as we’ve both noticed. Anyway, she’s gassed and ready, so let’s get her up and away, I’ve managed 17 hours with the three reserve Tanks, so she’ll hang there till the……” Art noticed the Sword poking up from Zee’s pack ..”till the morning again. You sure you’re OK, I mean. “
“Look I know from your folks remember, what happened, that boy, the “Nidd’s”, Hive Fleet Kraken. It isn’t going to happen again, not here, not whilst there’s me and Dodge here, come-on, a bit of faith in your Partners in Crime Zee !”
“Its not that Art, not that at all, was just an acquaintance I had to renew is all. And it’s done OK, just have to trust me on this one !”
“I can do that. Come on, lets get her up and working.”
Between them they set “Eileen II” straight, her nose to the wind, and Art began the pre-flights.
“Old Night ?”, As he sat cured in his new position, Zee’s mind was briefly taken to wondering what such times must have been like ? The Age of Strife, the 1st Psyker’s to walk openly amongst man…Enough ! He could day-dream later, now it could get him and his friends killed. He lifted the glasses again and swept the rocks to his left and right.
“noth…., hold .”, he adjusted the zoom, “What was …Sheep !” False alarm, just one of McAllen’s Sheep getting more confident around their scent, that and the feed he
had given them to scatter between the rocks to keep them in by ensuring they had to root aboutfor it. The night was still quiet, “The Dove‘s” turbo , the bats and the bugs, even an Owl once in a while, but very far off. Zee focussed on the graze next, now a powdery grey in the moonlight, with the odd whitish smudge of Sheep here and there, heads down, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings whilst chewing intently at the coarse grass of these rocky ridges. Still, no sign of anything worrying them tonight for sure, making the most of the grazing on a cool October evening.
had given them to scatter between the rocks to keep them in by ensuring they had to root aboutfor it. The night was still quiet, “The Dove‘s” turbo , the bats and the bugs, even an Owl once in a while, but very far off. Zee focussed on the graze next, now a powdery grey in the moonlight, with the odd whitish smudge of Sheep here and there, heads down, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings whilst chewing intently at the coarse grass of these rocky ridges. Still, no sign of anything worrying them tonight for sure, making the most of the grazing on a cool October evening.
“Zee ?”, It was Art, “Your 8.30, movement I can’t get an SP on !”
Zee swung his glasses hard left, focus ring spinning, boulders, shrub, shrub, tree-line,
Zee swung his glasses hard left, focus ring spinning, boulders, shrub, shrub, tree-line,
“Nothing Art, shrubs or tree-line ?”
“Tree-line.”
Zee scans left-right, still no sign of any movement, shadows look like shadows, the moon ducks behind a cloud, making everything darker, right to left, shadows……
“Nothing Art !” He noticed his pulse racing slightly, so breathed deeper, slowing his breaths, letting each one out slowly until his heart began to slow ! Strange, he didn’t normally get this anxious over a job, what was so different about this one that should have his heart racing he’d hunted down mass murderers and worse, why the hell would a Sheep killer have him all keyed up ? And if it had him ?
“Dodge, its Zee. You OK ?”
“Sure Zee, you got something ?”
“No Dodge, just a check-in, make sure alive and kicking is all.”
“Well alls dandy down here, too quiet by far, but nothing gives, what about Art ?”
“I’ll give him a shout next, out.”
“Art, all OK with you and clear from above ?”
“Clear as a bell, nothing moving here except us sheep.”
“Funny, Zee out !”
“Nothing”., and so Zee sat back and waited. Minutes passed, hours and still no trace of anything out of the ordinary appeared and there was nothing registered by “The Dove” either, life simply meandered on, but still Zee felt uneasy. He went to stretch, and suddenly noticed his left leg was wet from the thigh down. He reached down and his leg was oddly warm too, and bringing his hand away found why. It was covered in blood !
Hastily grasping for his pack, Zee grabbed the small halogen lamp off his belt and within seconds had assured himself he wasn’t loosing blood, as far as he could tell wasn’t injured nor as importantly was he about to be. Crouched, his heart in his throat and Mk VIII’s safety off, he next checked Art and Dodge were similarly situated before he cupped the rifle in one hand, sliding out the Misaer Blade, its bloody blade almost black in the moonlight. Gore dripped from the weapon, whilst more trickled from the scabbard, pooling at his feet, soaking his combats as the sword bled ! It wasn’t often Zee was stuck for words, though now his very thoughts were numb, not with fear, but incredulity. It had to be sorcery, for his mind was sure and unexpectedly calm, the coppery taste and earthy smell assuaging any thoughts that it were not real blood.
Sliding the Misaer Blade back finished soaking his leg and he gripped his Mark VIII rifle with both hands he voxed “Relocating, Relocating”, before moving at the crouch to the cover of the next rock crater, to uncompromise himself as best he could for now,
Sliding the Misaer Blade back finished soaking his leg and he gripped his Mark VIII rifle with both hands he voxed “Relocating, Relocating”, before moving at the crouch to the cover of the next rock crater, to uncompromise himself as best he could for now,
”You OK Zee ?” cut in Art.
”I’m fine, needed a better 20”. he replied. What else could he say at this point ?
“Sure ?“ It was Dodge this time.
“Sure I’m sure Dodge, cheers !“
Zee pulled up his glasses and scanned a 360 ° arc around his present position and he saw nothing. This was not right !
“Art, Dodge, scope my 20 !” he called as calmly as he could muster, sitting motionless, waiting. Seconds passed.
“Scoped, you’re clean !” Art was the 1st to reply.
“Cleaner than clean !” Followed Dodger
Zee felt his jaw stiffen, and realised he was getting angry, so put that hastily back in the box with a noisless laugh at himelf, concentrating on scanning the Sheep nearest the,
“Fu$% !”
There, in the moonlight, were 2 or 3 dark grey shapes, some 8 foot tall at least, with an un-natural sheen to what looked like scaly flesh, one reaching out a huge talloned limb, to point towards the nearest group of panicking sheep
Zee chambered a round, called “On -target ! Priority* !” and put his 1st round into the back of the head of the marginally closest to him, seeing it jerk.
*Each to select their Priority Target, often though not exclusively the closest to the shooter.
As Zee looked to place a 2nd shot he saw the second one twitch, its head violently jerked back into the path of his 2nd round as it was spun by Art’s 1st or 2nd shot. Both began to fall as he put a 3rd round into the middle lower back of the first he’d hit just as a mass-reactive shell from Dodgers Absolution Pattern Rifle tore off its left arm at the shoulder ! The second was hit twice more, pulping its head as it fell, only to be blasted back up into the air. Having dropped onto one of the pre-placed mines, its body was flung violently skywards end over end, its colleague blasted full of jagged holes from shrapnel and rock splinters !
All was then again suddenly quiet, apart fro small stones and fragments of rock clattering back to earth. Zee hoisted his glasses to his eyes and scanned the scene, making out one, no two unmoving shapes, waving this too Art, who moments later voxed through “Dove‘s” confirmation. The three in unison, crept up from their scrapes at the crouch, and as Zee and Art moved slowly for wide cover, Dodge began to close.
“Don’t forget there are still two lives mine in there and after one detonation, I’d class them both as “unsafe” even when deactivated so,…. So just keep away from them !”
“Don’t forget there are still two lives mine in there and after one detonation, I’d class them both as “unsafe” even when deactivated so,…. So just keep away from them !”
When they were at 30 yards, Zee stopped and took-up a firing-stance , Art and Dodge continued to move in at the crouch, covered through his scope, Zee watching the prone figures for any signs that this is not what it seemed. At 15 yards, Art was to do the same. Dodge, or whom ever did this leg, left his rifle at his scrape, it was always a shotgun for the last moves, but at 20 yards Dodge slowed, so Art moved up. From halted now Zee, as they naturally approach from down wind, could smell something was not right. Dodge wouldn’t take another step, and as he drew level, Art could see why. Zee started to move forward too as Dodge, face white, lost his lunch, breakfast and everything in-between, before his legs went ! Zee was nearly level as he went and managed to check Dodge‘s fall, lowering him into the recovery position, laid down “Lizzie” and scooped up the 12 Gauge, carrying it on toward the kill, past Art until he stood over the prostrate grey forms.
This close, they were not grey, but a deep blood red, covered in a scaly hide that struggled to contain their abhuman musculature. Around its neck, amongst a Maine of thick dark fur, one had a brass symbol hanging from chain of the same metal, and around their massive shoulders, thick, heavy chains holding huge 2-handed swords a good 2metres in length that coruscated Foul, Dark Energy. Their feet were cloven, and each arm ended in powerful, talon fingered hands that woul have been more at home on a lizard. From the ruin of this ones head it is hard to tell, but its kin has a skeletal face with far too many teeth, some great canines, and a head topped with a set of impossibly large horns, at least three sets of two, the largest of which must have been almost a metre in length. Zee gags. He did not know these abominations, but knew of them, they were servants of the Ruinous Powers, Daemon’s of the Dark Gods.
Daemon’s, little wonder that they’d had nothing from “The Dove” Question was, what were they doing here ? Zee’d heard no talk of Cult’s for a score or more years ! Zee walked over to Art, who was supervising Dodger, who did not look good at all, his face was pale and he was rocking slightly, clearly in shock.
“Dodge, Dodger !”, Zee yelled at the lad, trying to snap him out of it. “Dodger, those things, their no problem, they’re dead see”, he pointed to the forms, “They’re gone, finished, can’t stay here without a form you see !” But Dodger just stared blankly ahead. This was going to take quite some time !
Mk
Theater 3, chapter 2
Season Three, Chapter TwoUnity on the Bounty
It was cold, but only the same cold as yesterday, and any other day he could remember since, well since whenever. See, amongst other things that were a bit different, the temperature never changed nor the humidity down here.
Zee adjusted the sight one more click for windage, now that could be a problem, depending where you were, here, it was 2 clicks of a problem, now near the ridges it could be 8 or 9 clicks of a problem, on a bad day, 12+ and a prayer !
Another thing that never changed, was some thieving ba&%$d’s trying to run off with someone else’s hard eared livelihood ! Today, that was not going to happen. Zee lifted three fingers, a signal to Art and the Dodger as to what he could see of the opposition, Art lifted three in return, but then the tell, Dodger lifted four !
He followed this with a thumb, meaning he’d got a bead on the 4th, an OK from Art just left the timing, Zee would give them 3, patting “Lizzie“, his prized possession. At just over 1.8 m and weighing in at 55 kilo’s, his Astarte’s pattern Mark VIII heavy needle sniper rifle. Similar to the Deatwatch Mark IX, a little shorter, a fraction heavier, not tailored to fit with no built-in Cogitator, but more importantly, unlike the Mark IX unlicensed possession of a Mark VIII was not subject to summary execution. And alive was good in Zee’s book. He cupped the gun to his shoulder, held up 1 then 3 fingers, leaving Art number 2 and Dodger the 4th, the one the two of them could not make. Zee was no show-off, taking two, just damn good at what he did and with the Mk VIII, he was in possession of a far superior piece of kit with which to do it ! The numbering was always North -South, unless prearranged alterations required other considerations. The same suited, you didn’t need too many distractions in this job, the job itself kind of provided those for you. The timing 1 - 10 in quarter minutes, why, he had no idea, might have read it in a book or seen it of TV someplace. He held up three fingers.
“Three,” Zee mentally counted down the quarter minutes.
……
“Two.”
…..
”One !”
With two gentle squeezes, the first one lost his head, well enough of it to ensure what was left would not miss the part that had gone and number three he dropped with another clean head shot as the guy turned to see what had happened to his partner in crime. Zee then swung the scope and saw thumbs up from Art and the Dodger. Relief flooded him as the tension released his muscles and fully opened his diaphragm, and boy did the air taste sweeter than he remembered. A chill shivered its way down his relaxing muscles, then a Crow let out its grating call like a nail on rusty tin. Always a good sign for if there was anything moving down there, he’d not be so keen calling his buddies. Chances there would be Kites circling above soon too, and with darkness not to far off it was time to move before more of the fauna lit them up surer than neon !
15 minutes later Zee arrived at the Land Speeder, an old Tornado variant stretched to add a third seat and additional internal stowage space and with a whole heap of extra goodies, many of which flirted with “legal“ for domestic use. She went by the name of “Eileen II” and represents a very good night at cards, as well as the “firm‘s” most expensive investment to date. Art was in the process of stripping off the camo nets and disposing of the heavy foliage they’d used to tidy her away.
“Nice one Art, clean as it looked ?”
“Guess, did you see how the lad did ?”
“I know, how’d he make that fourth, kind of eyes we had don’t you miss them ?”
“Yeah, but that’s why we bought in the kid, never was a job for old men and cripples”, Art laughed, tapping his Cybernetic left leg a result of working the wrong gig with the wrong “friends”.
“Guess that makes me the old man then.”
Zee took the netting, rolled and strapped it away as Art thumbed the engines, two AS 9-60 Ramjets, and whilst waiting for the systems to power-up, swung out the rig for the pintle-mounted Heavy Bolter, sliding it out, testing the smoothness of the run and tensioning the .998 calibre Bolt feed as he did every time, one of his life’s rituals that Zee for one found reassuring. Couple of minutes and they were hot and circling the sight of the shoot out as Dodger waves them in and Art was steering with one hand whilst stressing with the cargo net release with the other, until his nerves get the better of him an Zee reached over and tapped the auto-pilot to on
“There was a reason we paid good money to have that up-graded, I think not dying was one of the considerations Art !” he shouted over the noise of the thrusters levelling them out.
Below, Dodger had all four bodies stretched out ready, their possessions in a separate pile that he was sifting carefully, with a third passenger, even with the power modifiers, they didn’t have the capacity to haul trash, so they had to look to less than 3 tonnes, and some of that was them, add another four bodies, ammo, weapons…. suffice to say it could be tight. Zee belayed down the to give Dodger a hand shifting the bodies, and whilst Art was securing the nets top-side, he too gave the men’s possessions a perfunctory look.
”Anything take your eye Dodge, reckon you’ve earned yourself a bonus.”
“Well, this kind of..” Dodger held up a Hellgun.
“Better but a whole heap hungrier than a standard Lasgun, but…” Zee leant over and picked up a seemingly standard holstered Laspistol
”One thing I don’t understand, did you holster that for transit ?”
"No, why ?”
“Well look at the gear they have here, one Hellgun and three ex-Guard M35 Lasguns, the Galaxies most commonly encountered Las weapon bar none. But wait, why use an M35, when you’ve a Mars pattern Laspistol tucked away ! As good, not quite the range, but with more of a punch than the 35, this is a Mars Pattern Mark IV Command Laspistol, given to Guard Officers once they attain a field command. Question is then, why’s it in the holster ?”Zee tossed Dodger the pistol.
“Anything look or feel strange about it to you ?”
“Meant to weigh, …. 900 grams or thereabouts right ?”
“Arts got you all wrong Dodge, you can listen !”
“Knock it off Zee, you know I listen to you guys, even your ‘remember when’ tales that would send most folk into a coma ! Point is, this here probably weighs a little over 1,000, was one of their better guns, but it’s still holstered, and even buttoned too, in which case I’ll wager it’s a ‘life assurance’ piece.”
“Give the lad a prize, sling it over by those rocks. And as Dodger did so, Zee took up one of the M35’s, giving it a once over, feeling it still held some heat from having been fire ready, he guessed it was not another trap, and loosed a round at the holstered pistol, yelling, “Fire in the hold !” to alert Art of the following, “Crumph !” as Pistol and Holster disappeared in a ball of flame and a strong smell of Promethium.
“Some form of Thermite charge, enough to take your hand and most of your arm I’d say, so yeah, an insurance piece, and Dodge, sorry, it was a good gun, but even Harvey wouldn’t attempt to disarm a ‘life’ piece, and he’s insane ! Tell you what, I’ll have a chat with Art so as when we get the Bounty on these four, we’ll cash all this with Spence and see what he has “out-back” as I’m sure you could use a decent side-arm for starters, your M36 Pattern is more suited for what we do than a Hellgun, that back pack alone weighs in at some 10 kilos and it’s real cumbersome getting in and out of Eileen, so we cool with that ?”
“We’re always cool Zee, we three are the Ice-men !”, at which set the two of them laughing, deep happy laughter that soon had Art going as Dodge re-told the story of the too-good-to-be-true Mars Pattern Insurance Piece on the run back to Fort Speake, the one place that afforded anything like a secure, stable community in these parts, where lay the “firms” second largest gross asset, the Scarp Lodge.
As with all the buildings around and including Fort Speake, Scarp Lodge was literally cut straight into the cliff, the only thing that afforded the original settlers any security. Art swung the Land Speeder over the Pad, easing down on the throttle, dropping it feather-light as ever, legs still on full extension after having “dropped -off” their cargo at the Bondsman’s and cashed-up. Zee keyed in a further series of number’s, opening the Lodge, having already de-activated their security protocol’s, being shot out of the sky by their own Flakk Missiles or sliced and diced by their “on-point” Lasgrid was not the kind of homecoming he had in mind.
They had got lucky ay Spence’s, for to start with, he was four sheets to the wind, and so more than eager to please, but a new toy of this calibre was always gonna cost ! Whilst Dodge was helping the Bondsman unpack the last piece of “cargo”, Art and Zee had a board meeting, which swiftly concluded that the lad was worth further investment. They both liked Dodge, he was amenable, attentive and bright, with a near natural affinity for fire-arms that matched even Zee’s. More importantly though, he listened and did not appear to out to prove anything, none of which they now knew was an act. They’d given him a room at the Lodge some fourteen months back, when he’d begun his training for real, too long to sustain an act, and long enough for Art to do all the back-ground checks he was so infamous for, even the Imperial Guard hired him from time to time. Even so, it had been 10 months before they had taken Dodge on a “live-one”, for it was not a job you learnt the basics on, those were a pre-requisite !
And Spence did come up with the goods, at 1,750 less their profit from the sales, Zee reckoned it worth it for an Absolution Pattern Sniper Rifle. Not a Las weapon like Zee’s Mk VIII or Art’s older Mk IV, the Absolution Pattern Sniper Rifle was a ballistic weapon firing solid slugs. Still a very effective bit of kit though against all but heavily armoured targets, but as they had no Astarte’s hunting planned, it was unlikely to prove an insurmountable problem. Spence had cut them some slack though, throwing in a tripod, silencer, a telescopic sight and 800 rounds of 50/50 HE and AP. Zee took one look at the telescopic sight, rejected it and after an extra 250 changed hands, he was truly happy with a 0X29, a copy of the X30 Scope on the Deatwatch Mark IX, and a surprisingly good copy at that. Dodge was simply immersed in a blissful trance that provided Art and Zee with many a cheap laugh at his expense.
But now was time to unwind, time to get the first decent nights sleep in three days, for tomorrow would be a very long one indeed, it had taken him nearly two to sight-in “Lizzie”.
Mk
It was cold, but only the same cold as yesterday, and any other day he could remember since, well since whenever. See, amongst other things that were a bit different, the temperature never changed nor the humidity down here.
Zee adjusted the sight one more click for windage, now that could be a problem, depending where you were, here, it was 2 clicks of a problem, now near the ridges it could be 8 or 9 clicks of a problem, on a bad day, 12+ and a prayer !
Another thing that never changed, was some thieving ba&%$d’s trying to run off with someone else’s hard eared livelihood ! Today, that was not going to happen. Zee lifted three fingers, a signal to Art and the Dodger as to what he could see of the opposition, Art lifted three in return, but then the tell, Dodger lifted four !
He followed this with a thumb, meaning he’d got a bead on the 4th, an OK from Art just left the timing, Zee would give them 3, patting “Lizzie“, his prized possession. At just over 1.8 m and weighing in at 55 kilo’s, his Astarte’s pattern Mark VIII heavy needle sniper rifle. Similar to the Deatwatch Mark IX, a little shorter, a fraction heavier, not tailored to fit with no built-in Cogitator, but more importantly, unlike the Mark IX unlicensed possession of a Mark VIII was not subject to summary execution. And alive was good in Zee’s book. He cupped the gun to his shoulder, held up 1 then 3 fingers, leaving Art number 2 and Dodger the 4th, the one the two of them could not make. Zee was no show-off, taking two, just damn good at what he did and with the Mk VIII, he was in possession of a far superior piece of kit with which to do it ! The numbering was always North -South, unless prearranged alterations required other considerations. The same suited, you didn’t need too many distractions in this job, the job itself kind of provided those for you. The timing 1 - 10 in quarter minutes, why, he had no idea, might have read it in a book or seen it of TV someplace. He held up three fingers.
“Three,” Zee mentally counted down the quarter minutes.
……
“Two.”
…..
”One !”
With two gentle squeezes, the first one lost his head, well enough of it to ensure what was left would not miss the part that had gone and number three he dropped with another clean head shot as the guy turned to see what had happened to his partner in crime. Zee then swung the scope and saw thumbs up from Art and the Dodger. Relief flooded him as the tension released his muscles and fully opened his diaphragm, and boy did the air taste sweeter than he remembered. A chill shivered its way down his relaxing muscles, then a Crow let out its grating call like a nail on rusty tin. Always a good sign for if there was anything moving down there, he’d not be so keen calling his buddies. Chances there would be Kites circling above soon too, and with darkness not to far off it was time to move before more of the fauna lit them up surer than neon !
15 minutes later Zee arrived at the Land Speeder, an old Tornado variant stretched to add a third seat and additional internal stowage space and with a whole heap of extra goodies, many of which flirted with “legal“ for domestic use. She went by the name of “Eileen II” and represents a very good night at cards, as well as the “firm‘s” most expensive investment to date. Art was in the process of stripping off the camo nets and disposing of the heavy foliage they’d used to tidy her away.
“Nice one Art, clean as it looked ?”
“Guess, did you see how the lad did ?”
“I know, how’d he make that fourth, kind of eyes we had don’t you miss them ?”
“Yeah, but that’s why we bought in the kid, never was a job for old men and cripples”, Art laughed, tapping his Cybernetic left leg a result of working the wrong gig with the wrong “friends”.
“Guess that makes me the old man then.”
Zee took the netting, rolled and strapped it away as Art thumbed the engines, two AS 9-60 Ramjets, and whilst waiting for the systems to power-up, swung out the rig for the pintle-mounted Heavy Bolter, sliding it out, testing the smoothness of the run and tensioning the .998 calibre Bolt feed as he did every time, one of his life’s rituals that Zee for one found reassuring. Couple of minutes and they were hot and circling the sight of the shoot out as Dodger waves them in and Art was steering with one hand whilst stressing with the cargo net release with the other, until his nerves get the better of him an Zee reached over and tapped the auto-pilot to on
“There was a reason we paid good money to have that up-graded, I think not dying was one of the considerations Art !” he shouted over the noise of the thrusters levelling them out.
Below, Dodger had all four bodies stretched out ready, their possessions in a separate pile that he was sifting carefully, with a third passenger, even with the power modifiers, they didn’t have the capacity to haul trash, so they had to look to less than 3 tonnes, and some of that was them, add another four bodies, ammo, weapons…. suffice to say it could be tight. Zee belayed down the to give Dodger a hand shifting the bodies, and whilst Art was securing the nets top-side, he too gave the men’s possessions a perfunctory look.
”Anything take your eye Dodge, reckon you’ve earned yourself a bonus.”
“Well, this kind of..” Dodger held up a Hellgun.
“Better but a whole heap hungrier than a standard Lasgun, but…” Zee leant over and picked up a seemingly standard holstered Laspistol
”One thing I don’t understand, did you holster that for transit ?”
"No, why ?”
“Well look at the gear they have here, one Hellgun and three ex-Guard M35 Lasguns, the Galaxies most commonly encountered Las weapon bar none. But wait, why use an M35, when you’ve a Mars pattern Laspistol tucked away ! As good, not quite the range, but with more of a punch than the 35, this is a Mars Pattern Mark IV Command Laspistol, given to Guard Officers once they attain a field command. Question is then, why’s it in the holster ?”Zee tossed Dodger the pistol.
“Anything look or feel strange about it to you ?”
“Meant to weigh, …. 900 grams or thereabouts right ?”
“Arts got you all wrong Dodge, you can listen !”
“Knock it off Zee, you know I listen to you guys, even your ‘remember when’ tales that would send most folk into a coma ! Point is, this here probably weighs a little over 1,000, was one of their better guns, but it’s still holstered, and even buttoned too, in which case I’ll wager it’s a ‘life assurance’ piece.”
“Give the lad a prize, sling it over by those rocks. And as Dodger did so, Zee took up one of the M35’s, giving it a once over, feeling it still held some heat from having been fire ready, he guessed it was not another trap, and loosed a round at the holstered pistol, yelling, “Fire in the hold !” to alert Art of the following, “Crumph !” as Pistol and Holster disappeared in a ball of flame and a strong smell of Promethium.
“Some form of Thermite charge, enough to take your hand and most of your arm I’d say, so yeah, an insurance piece, and Dodge, sorry, it was a good gun, but even Harvey wouldn’t attempt to disarm a ‘life’ piece, and he’s insane ! Tell you what, I’ll have a chat with Art so as when we get the Bounty on these four, we’ll cash all this with Spence and see what he has “out-back” as I’m sure you could use a decent side-arm for starters, your M36 Pattern is more suited for what we do than a Hellgun, that back pack alone weighs in at some 10 kilos and it’s real cumbersome getting in and out of Eileen, so we cool with that ?”
“We’re always cool Zee, we three are the Ice-men !”, at which set the two of them laughing, deep happy laughter that soon had Art going as Dodge re-told the story of the too-good-to-be-true Mars Pattern Insurance Piece on the run back to Fort Speake, the one place that afforded anything like a secure, stable community in these parts, where lay the “firms” second largest gross asset, the Scarp Lodge.
As with all the buildings around and including Fort Speake, Scarp Lodge was literally cut straight into the cliff, the only thing that afforded the original settlers any security. Art swung the Land Speeder over the Pad, easing down on the throttle, dropping it feather-light as ever, legs still on full extension after having “dropped -off” their cargo at the Bondsman’s and cashed-up. Zee keyed in a further series of number’s, opening the Lodge, having already de-activated their security protocol’s, being shot out of the sky by their own Flakk Missiles or sliced and diced by their “on-point” Lasgrid was not the kind of homecoming he had in mind.
They had got lucky ay Spence’s, for to start with, he was four sheets to the wind, and so more than eager to please, but a new toy of this calibre was always gonna cost ! Whilst Dodge was helping the Bondsman unpack the last piece of “cargo”, Art and Zee had a board meeting, which swiftly concluded that the lad was worth further investment. They both liked Dodge, he was amenable, attentive and bright, with a near natural affinity for fire-arms that matched even Zee’s. More importantly though, he listened and did not appear to out to prove anything, none of which they now knew was an act. They’d given him a room at the Lodge some fourteen months back, when he’d begun his training for real, too long to sustain an act, and long enough for Art to do all the back-ground checks he was so infamous for, even the Imperial Guard hired him from time to time. Even so, it had been 10 months before they had taken Dodge on a “live-one”, for it was not a job you learnt the basics on, those were a pre-requisite !
And Spence did come up with the goods, at 1,750 less their profit from the sales, Zee reckoned it worth it for an Absolution Pattern Sniper Rifle. Not a Las weapon like Zee’s Mk VIII or Art’s older Mk IV, the Absolution Pattern Sniper Rifle was a ballistic weapon firing solid slugs. Still a very effective bit of kit though against all but heavily armoured targets, but as they had no Astarte’s hunting planned, it was unlikely to prove an insurmountable problem. Spence had cut them some slack though, throwing in a tripod, silencer, a telescopic sight and 800 rounds of 50/50 HE and AP. Zee took one look at the telescopic sight, rejected it and after an extra 250 changed hands, he was truly happy with a 0X29, a copy of the X30 Scope on the Deatwatch Mark IX, and a surprisingly good copy at that. Dodge was simply immersed in a blissful trance that provided Art and Zee with many a cheap laugh at his expense.
But now was time to unwind, time to get the first decent nights sleep in three days, for tomorrow would be a very long one indeed, it had taken him nearly two to sight-in “Lizzie”.
Mk
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