After Zani steps away again, closing the doors behind her, Ivaanov begins to manipulate the hidden switches and buttons in the wide spine of the Corpus Presidium Calixis, satisfying himself that the hidden hololith projector and pict-corder are still functioning properly after the chaotic journey from Krade's offices.
Nodding to himself, he sips his water, and looks to Uriah and the others.
"Provided we all are in agreement, and will not be interrupted in the viewing, I will begin the playback."
"The Duct Wolves were pushed down to levels 121 and 122. There are supposedly Duct Wolves still on the higher levels, but they aren't open about their membership."
"Go ahead, Ivaanov."
"Yes, please go ahead and show us.
"Well if any are here laying low they know I am here, and word will pass. Wolf is wolves clothing as they say." I pause for a minute. "Me walking there turf in full colors will be a challenge to the Yellobacks. We should expect trouble. Guaranteed I have already been marked. There are always eyes watching." I take another drink to quench my thirst.
"I am ready to watch your tape anytime Ivanoov."
"I would think we are all marked since we got into a fire fight with them and won."
I laugh. "If that were the case half the Grey Way would be marked. They are cowards and horrible shots. At least when I knew them. Only time you have to worry about them is capping one; after they surrender. They tend to take that real personal. Only part of the street code they follow. When its in there favor anyway..."
I laugh. "If that were the case half the Grey Way would be marked. They are cowards and horrible shots. At least when I knew them. Only time you have to worry about them is capping one; after they surrender. They tend to take that real personal. Only part of the street code they follow. When its in there favor anyway..."
Iacton glances at Rico.
Ivaanov gives one last paranoid glance toward the sliding doors, and then depresses a stud on the spine of the tome. Almost immediately, the machine spirits of the hololithic engine within are placated, and a meter tall holographic projection jumps into place in the center of the well-worn table.
The stark black and white of the image is much as the spectators in Krade's offices remember it, but the digital timestamp shows it is quite a number of hours after his terrifying abduction. Interestingly enough, the recording being played is just a handful of hours before you yourselves met within. It appears that the last of the Arbites Judicium investigators are wrapping up their forensic work. The black garbed detectives confer animatedly by the High Arbiter's desk while white smocked technicians with plastic gloves pack up all manner of auspex equipment into bulky chrome cases.
After the group departs through the suite's entrance, Ivaanov accelerates the intervening time, and the shadows from the panoramic diamantine window lengthen noticeably within the room. The tech-priest clicks a stud on the book's spine, and the image drops into standard play again.
"This is noteworthy. It occurred only one hour before our meeting in the office. As you can see, a pair of custodes return for the equipment left behind by the forensic techs from earlier. There is another, as well."
A pair of well-built men in faded and stained worker's coveralls step in to begin collecting the cases. As they move the items toward the door, a third man, dressed in a jet black suit similar to the other investigators, walks into the office purposefully. He is not one of the detectives that was in the office previously. Instead of assisting the custodes with the cases, he approaches the disturbing mirror on the wall, examining the edges of it with his hands. Satisfied, he reaches into a small satchel at his side to remove a handful of round, dark-colored metallic cylinders outfitted with control nodules. Each is about the size of a man's thumb. Working quickly, his back to the camera, the man begins fastening the objects to the edges of the full-length mirror's blackened metal sides, placing them on the few flat surfaces devoid of avian designs or staring eyes and flicking the nodules on top of each. The objects remain fastened to the oval mirror's edge, and when the man pulls the mirror easily from the wall, it defies gravity, falling toward the floor before arresting its descent only a few centimeters above the curiously stained carpet. It is clear that he attached suspensors.
The man then turns the mirror easily, rotating the edge to face the door to the suite. When he does so, the numbers on the precinct patch on his shoulder are clearly visible. Precinct #77. Before he moves the mirror to the entrance, he nods at the two custodes, who check compact pistols hidden in their coveralls, losing all semblance of the casual workmanlike demeanor they had been affecting thus far. The man signals them to leave, and turns once more, staring out the window, but also allowing his face to be clearly visible to the hidden pict-corder pointed at the reflective surface.
It appears he is tracking the path of a shuttlecraft through the sky.
He is handsome, a few years shy of middle age, with high, chiseled cheekbones, and a slender, aquiline nose. He could easily be a highborn noble of the upper spires, with his perfectly groomed, jet black hair and sharply pointed eyebrows. His dark eyes gaze mirthlessly through the window, until finally a bemused smile crosses his face as if he is enjoying some delightful, private joke. The man is perfectly unassuming in appearance, good-looking, if nondescript. He leaves the office with the mirror, moving slowly out of the frame. Whether it is simple intuition, a feeling of wrongness in his gaze, or the circumstances of his presence in the office, you all come to the simultaneous conclusion that this man is no true Arbites investigator.
Johnnie simply stares straight ahead, as if he too is trying to look out Krade's window through the proxy view offered by the pict-corder.
"Interesting bit that." I take a close look at the mirror in the vid trying to determine if its of Archaotech or Xeno design. I look at the investigators face as well and try to commit it to memmory. For some reason he reminds of some House Prince from the Spires. I try to look for any subtle markings on him or his assistants as to there alliegences.
"Well Uriah, I think we need to contact the Old Man and whisper in his ear whats going on. You gents agree?"
"I agree, we must contact our Master, and update him. This mission never started. I am sure that what is has happened is connected with the original mission, but without the briefing, how do we know for sure?"
Things of note I will be looking for on the men in the vidio. If I can make them out that is. Can I tell if there hands are calloused, what do the nails on there hands looks like. How to they walk,(artificial, leg, or limp), posture. Any rings or noticable jewelry, parts of tattoo's. Is there hair well groomed, or split ends, dull etc. Trying to use natural cues to determine what social class these guys belong to.
I laugh. "If that were the case half the Grey Way would be marked. They are cowards and horrible shots. At least when I knew them. Only time you have to worry about them is capping one; after they surrender. They tend to take that real personal. Only part of the street code they follow. When its in there favor anyway..."Iacton glances at Rico.
Rico ignores the implication of Thul's pronouncement and thinks of Dove.
"It can't be... the Eviscerator? Alive?"
"But I killed him! He's dead!"
Things of note I will be looking for on the men in the vidio. If I can make them out that is. Can I tell if there hands are calloused, what do the nails on there hands looks like. How to they walk,(artificial, leg, or limp), posture. Any rings or noticable jewelry, parts of tattoo's. Is there hair well groomed, or split ends, dull etc. Trying to use natural cues to determine what social class these guys belong to.
"I agree, we must contact our Master, and update him. This mission never started. I am sure that what is has happened is connected with the original mission, but without the briefing, how do we know for sure?"
Albrek leans forward, scanning the holo to the best of his ability as Ivaanov plays it back again. When Uriah speaks, the guardsman leans back, closes his eyes meditatively and then opens them again, turning to face the psyker.
"I am in agreement. We need to contact the Master through Orcut VII's Astropathic Choir as soon as possible. However, our mission directives are clear, we are to make contact with former Interrogator Krade. If this means rescuing him from his kidnappers, so be it. My gut tells me that delaying our search for him any longer than necessary may put his life in jeopardy."
Albrek muses on this. Looking over to Iacton and Ivaanov, his voice softens somewhat.
"That is, unless he is already dead. A possibility given the nature of his kidnappers. We must determine with certainty one way or another. If so, we have no recourse but the Choir."
"Without revealing ourselves to too many people, could we make sure the arbitors do not interfere with the investigation and rescue you are proposing? It is your planet, your hive, what do you say about it?"
"It can't be... the Eviscerator? Alive?"
"But I killed him! He's dead!"
"So the rumors are true. He has returned."
"How long would it take to contact your master? If it would take more than a few hours, I fear we would be too late."
"Its probably already be too late for Krade."
I mind spins, going over facts again, and again. "My concern is for the people in this Hive."
I think about how many innocents have been carved up by the serial killer. How many Duct Wolves slaughtered in a night of treachery. That most of the leadership was killed. My Mom was one of them. Did she escape, or wind up face down in the gutter with the others? So many questions...
"Iacton would you and Ivanoov step outside for a minute? I need to discuss a couple of matters quickly that are personal in nature. While outside keep an eye out for anyone watching our booth."
"As you wish. Come along, Ivaanov." Iacton silently walks out of the room.
"Thanks Iacton." I patiently wait til they are both out of the room before I start talking.
Ishmael stares intently at the footage as it is played back again.
Ivaanov glances up as he replays the hololithic sequence in the room again, looking for any details that were missed initially on first viewing.
Looking more closely at the two custodes, he stops the footage on a frame coinciding when the men pull out their pistols. He points to the wrist of one of the men, whose coverall sleeve has drawn back. The pointed edge of some manner of marking or tattoo is visible.
"This may be a salient detail that we have not detected as of yet. Does anyone know what it might be?"
Albrek squints at the grainy black and white footage. A shudder runs through him, and he stabs a grime-covered, calloused finger at the marking floating in the air before him.
"That, is a chit-sickle..."
Perception test =
I see nothing special.
"Without revealing ourselves to too many people, could we make sure the arbitors do not interfere with the investigation and rescue you are proposing? It is your planet, your hive, what do you say about it?"
Albrek shakes his head with uncertainty. Doubt creeping into his pale and haggard face. He looks toward Rico.
"This question is best answered by Johnnie, here. What say you, Rico, can you convince your old colleagues in Precinct #77 to look the other way? That is, if they are not somehow part of this convoluted plot as well..."
"Thanks Iacton." I patiently wait til they are both out of the room before I start talking.
Ivaanov uses one hand to manually adjust and amplify his goggle augmetics to get a better look at the tiny marking on the man's wrist.
"Ahh, yes, I believe it is a chit-sickle...does this have any special significance?"
Looking over at the discomfited Albrek, Ivaanov senses he is not privy to something the others know. Hearing Savalos' request of Iacton, Ivaanov rises and follows his compatriot out of the private chamber, waiting at the door until Albrek answers his question. The pair then depart, the five of you, Ahmazzi's acolytes, are left alone in the room.
Albrek answers the tech-priest only because he has to. The implications of the tattoo are not lost him, nor on anyone else in the room who has seen it before.
"Ivaanov, the tattoo is a chit-sickle and the number six. It is an identifier insignia used by the 6th Penal Legion of the Oremor Guard. The men who ambushed us on the Void Needle possessed them as well."
"Thanks Iacton." I patiently wait til they are both out of the room before I start talking.
As the door shuts behind Iacton and Ivaanov I speak. "Okay I am going to speak my mind quick. We don't want those guys hanging out there to long."
"First off how much do you guys trust them? They seem straight forward enough, but do you think we need the Old Man to pull rank and tell them that they follow his orders now until the issue with Krade is resolved. One way or another."
"Second, Sunshine was Wolf Kissed alot worse than you thought Brek. Alot of blood, alot missing. Johnnie, don't expect her to be the same woman we met a couple a hours ago. You know how a Wolf Kiss changes people."
"Finally I need a reliable pic of Krade. And I need to confirm that image with someone. If the image is confirmed...Then I am going on a Wolf Hunt. Cause then Krade crossed me personal like. And I will vent him. The Old Man should know upfront. Not to mention what the Yellobacks did to my family. Johnnie, I expect you to back me against the Yellobacks. The Duct Wolves are your family too. Regardless if you where a badge now or not."
I take a deep drink from my glass. Damn I need a refill already.
"Without revealing ourselves to too many people, could we make sure the arbitors do not interfere with the investigation and rescue you are proposing? It is your planet, your hive, what do you say about it?"Albrek shakes his head with uncertainty. Doubt creeping into his pale and haggard face. He looks toward Rico.
"This question is best answered by Johnnie, here. What say you, Rico, can you convince your old colleagues in Precinct #77 to look the other way? That is, if they are not somehow part of this convoluted plot as well..."
"That will require a disclosure of our status." Looking at Uriah, "Are we prepared to do that?"
"Savalos, We can recruit them under our command. We can ask Ivaanov if there is a clear image of Krade before he was taken."
"Rico, As I said, without revealing ourselves to too many people."
"Finally I need a reliable pic of Krade. And I need to confirm that image with someone. If the image is confirmed...Then I am going on a Wolf Hunt. Cause then Krade crossed me personal like. And I will vent him. The Old Man should know upfront. Not to mention what the Yellobacks did to my family. Johnnie, I expect you to back me against the Yellobacks. The Duct Wolves are your family too. Regardless if you where a badge now or not."I take a deep drink from my glass. Damn I need a refill already.
Ishmael chuckles, shaking his head as he decants another glass of his amasec. He quickly drains the glass, staring at Uriah, eyes never wavering from him while responds to Savalos' last statement.
"My apologies, ganger! I must have been mistaken when I assumed that the five of us were recruited to serve the God Emperor of Mankind on his Golden Throne under the tutelage and absolute control of Inquisitor Ahmazzi of the Holy Ordos of the Inquisition, the former coincidentally being my first and most important master, while the latter Uriah so frequently reminds me is the worldly vector for the former's will."
"Since our landing on this accursed, corrupted, mushroom-stinking rock the psyker has not missed one opportunity to lecture me on this matter. I see fit to lecture a little myself, now. Forgive me if I have forgotten that our primary reason for coming here in the first place was for you to assuage your homesickness and formulate a vendetta upon our master's designated contact based on the irrational speculation given you by some drug addicted medicae. Perhaps it is cavalier of me to presume that the corrupting powers of the taint of Chaos itself should take secondary concern to your hurt feelings."
"What say you, Uriah? Tongue-tied are you? Let me then perform your duty as senior acolyte in our master's little coterie, since you seem confused as to your obligations to redirect our little wayward hive scum, here."
Ishmael smiles, waggling his finger in scolding fashion at Uriah.
"There is no playing favorites, psyker."
Ishmael fills his glass again, sets it too his lips and drains it away once again. He looks directly at Savalos, his voice raised, but level.
"You FORGET YOURSELF acolyte. The petty little dramas of your specious previous life are meaningless now. You SERVE the HOLY INQUISITION of the EMPEROR OF MANKIND, and you will perform your duty!"
I eye Ishmael coldly. "I never told you who my contact is that I want to show the image to Ishmael. How is it you know my contact without me speaking his name or occupation? Think your the one who needs to start speaking plainly." I look at the dinner knife sitting on the table in front of me.
"Worry not your fanatical little head; I will perform my duties. If you clean your ears I stated I require proof before I will act. Hence why I want the pic for confirmation. Thanks for that Uriah."
"If the Old Man thinks my personal affairs are tarnishing my judgement. Then its his place to remove me. Not yours. Its one of the reasons why I want to contact the Old Man in the first place. And I will spill blood. Unlike you, I am loyal to my family. Til they turn from the Throne itself. I will protect them, and every other fragger on this accursed, corrupted, mushroom-stinking rock. When everything is said and done we can stand next to each other for disobeying code of conduct. Sound good priest?"
"Listen to his words, Ishmael, he said he wait for confirmation and talk to the Master first. It might be personal, but I belive that it is all connected, and is part of our mission as acolytes to ferret out what is happening and weed out the offences to the Emperor of Heresy and Malleus and stop it. Remember yourself that our Master wanted them on their home planet for a reason. I repeat since our mission was to start with talking to Krade, we must find him and find out what condition he is in and act from there."
"One of the reasons Savalos his here, is his contacts and connections to the underhive. You are not from this world, so the only way you would know any of his contacts would be to have investigated him. My question is why you would do this?
Albrek coughs loudly, clearing his throat. He chews on the last of the tourain nuts, and then derisively stares at Ishmael. He waits until the Redemptionist catches his eye
"As long as we're dredging up the past, Ishmael, perhaps we should talk about how your father put you to work in the forges with the menials back home in Gunmetal City after that poor girl caught a stray bullet in your little 'honor duel'. In fact, if you want, I'm sure we could all rehash our pasts all day long."
Albrek swallows. He turns from Uriah, to Juan, and then to Savalos.
"It's a bit embarrassing for me to admit that it took me this long to figure out why the Old Man provided me with Ishmael heres dossier prior to the end of our training. Very in depth. Our master knows his stuff. I think this thick-headed soldier just didn't see the forest for the trees. I think I get it now, though. Looks like the cleric here got your story, Sav."
The Guardsman coughs again.
"So, as long as we're divulging secrets, which one of you knows all about my sordid past?"
"I know Johnnie's past. Thats only because we grew up together. Shared history as we say."
"You could throw a stack of dossiers in front of me it wouldn't do me a damn bit of good. Only things I know about the rest of you is what you felt like telling me."
"I've said my piece, and my mind is already made up. You can help or get the hell out of my way Ishmael. I don't fragging care. Know I don't abandon my own. Which even includes you in some instances."
Iacton continues to wait outside the door with Ivaanov, looking like the most unsettling doorman that this room could possibly have.
"To further explain myself as to why I need Krade's pic for confirmation. There was a girl who was like a kid sister to me. She died just over a couple years ago. Her body was taken from the hospice by a man fitting Krade's description. That girl looks identical to Kalaziel. Kalaziel entered into Krades service the same time Maia was taken. I need to know."
"If you have useful information pretaining to this Ishmael. I would like to hear it."
"I do not think it is important who knows whose history, at least for the mission. The Master chose who knows what and why he did it will become apparent when that information is necessary. I do not want us to have problems because this. Remember Ishmael, you have to learn to work with the rest of us, and we must work with you. This will not work unless you make the attempt."
"To further explain myself as to why I need Krade's pic for confirmation. There was a girl who was like a kid sister to me. She died just over a couple years ago. Her body was taken from the hospice by a man fitting Krade's description. That girl looks identical to Kalaziel. Kalaziel entered into Krades service the same time Maia was taken. I need to know."
"If you have useful information pretaining to this Ishmael. I would like to hear it."
Ishmael looks poleaxed by Albrek's revelation. His righteous indignation fades within seconds of the guardsman's comment. He peers into his amasec carafe as if looking for answers.
"I...I...don't know anything of this, Thul..."
Ishmael turns to Uriah as the psyker speaks, nodding, but looking blankly ahead, seemingly lost somewhere in his past.
"Yes...alright."
Iacton continues to wait outside the door with Ivaanov, looking like the most unsettling doorman that this room could possibly have.
1d100
Iacton takes in the view of the Gear Box floor from the balcony, standing beside Ivaanov, who contrastingly stares up in wonderment at the titanic dimensions of the great gear. You have the unsettling feeling, an instinct that is finely honed for your profession, that someone is watching you from amongst the countless patrons.
From the raised voices in the private booth behind you, it sounds as if the reunion of Ahmazzi's acolytes is going well.
"Alright Ishmael... At least you all know why I won't drop this. So I've said my piece. So lets get those guys back in here. Uriah can say his piece to them, and then we can eat. I'm sure we all could use a hot meal. After that we have alot of work to do."
"I do not think it is important who knows whose history, at least for the mission. The Master chose who knows what and why he did it will become apparent when that information is necessary. I do not want us to have problems because this. Remember Ishmael, you have to learn to work with the rest of us, and we must work with you. This will not work unless you make the attempt."
"Uriah's right. I'm beginning to believe that there are very few contingencies our master has failed to prepare for, and a great deal that he has foreseen. It might be a little different for the rest of you, but I find I'm most comfortable playing the pawn in this little game of regicide. Questioning things seems to only bring more questions, if you haven't already noticed."
"Not to mention, I am damn hungry."