[Jakob 7] - A Change in Plans

“The mutt has to stay”, was all the Sergeant had to say on the matter.  Jakob had been going back and forth with the stubborn man for twenty minutes and he was out of time.  He had to hoof it fast if he was to meet Corporal Harkim as ordered.

“Coosh, sit.”  The Cyber Mastiff did as it was told and planted its tail on the floor and looked up and Jakob waiting for the next command.  Before his own attachment overwhelmed his common sense any further he squatted down and locked eyes with the constructs cameras that it used as eyes.  He reached down to the collar and slid the locking mechanism that covered the power switch to prevent unintentional shut downs up and to the left.  With a sigh he said, “sleep” and toggled the power switch simultaneously.   He stayed squatted, looking into the constructs eyes until the light in the “eyes” faded to black and the gyros no longer made any sounds.

“Don’t worry kid.  I’ll wipe its memory before I re-issue it out.”

“Thanks”, was all he could say as he turned and walked away. 

It was not that he cared for the construct beyond a mechanical curiosity.  It was a machine and nothing more.  It did not care about him.  As soon as it was turned on again it would just re-imprint itself with whoever happened to be sitting in front of it.  So, why had he fought so hard to keep it?

-=-=-=0=-=-=-

Jakob felt a blast of hot air and could hear the roar of the Valkyrie’s engines as soon as he entered the hanger.  Corporal Harkim was at the end of the open ramp waving frantically for him to get on board.  Jakob accelerated his pace jumped into the troop compartment.  Eight other men in Enforcer armor glared up at him.  They were already strapped in to five point harnesses awaiting take off.  Turning around Jakob tried to ask Corporal Harkim where he was to sit, but the roar of the engines drowned out all of his attempts at communication.

Harkim stood to the side and depressed a button to close the rear hatch.  No sooner than the latches locked the ramp in place the Valkyrie lurched up and forward causing Jakob to fall head first against the now closed ramp.  He felt the warm blanket of unconsciousness wash over him as everything went dark.

-=-=-=0=-=-=-

When he came back around Jakob could still hear the roar of the engines through the hull of the Airborne Assault Carrier.  The right side of his head was throbbing, and when he reached his hand up to rub it, it came away wet with some blood.  As he stared at his hand he noticed that it had dripped all the way down the front of his uniform.

“YOU CAN GET THAT LOOKED AT WHEN WE GET TO HIVE OCTAVIOUS!”

Jakob craned his neck to the right and forward to look around the harness now holding him in place.

“I’M SERGEANT HARKIM! I’M YOUR NEW PATROL SERGEANT!  WELCOME TO THE TEAM!”

Jakob realized his new Sergeant was shouting over the dull roar permeating throughout the cabin.  Instead of trying to shout over the noise himself Jakob just nodded and gave him the thumbs up sign.

“I TOOK THE LIBERTY OF DRAWING ALL OF YOUR EQUIPMENT!  IT”S STOWED IN THE BACK!”

Craning just a little farther forward Jakob looked past the Sergeant to see a stack of duffel bags and footlockers strapped to the ramp door.  He also noticed for the first time, a heavy frame crate containing a pristine Enforcer Construct secured to the floor in between the squad of men.

Jakob gave the Sergeant another thumbs up sign and sat back and let his head rest against the restraint.  He looked around at the other Enforcers.  Most of them ignored him, while two of them just shook their heads while they returned his gaze.  It was obvious that he was the FNG.  The last four weeks of Enforcer training is devoted to being introduced to your Patrol team members and new Sergeant.  The time was dedicated to team building and getting to know one another.  Jakob had bypassed that when Colonel Thios had fast tracked him and ordered him to report to Corp, er, Sergeant Harkim.  He was going to have to start from scratch.

“WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR LAST HANDLER SERGEANT!” Jakob shouted to the Sergeant.

“TRAINING ACCIDENT!” The Sergeant shouted in reply.  He thumbed over his shoulder towards the crate, “ THE RAZOR FANG TOOK HIS HAND CLEAN OFF!  HAD TO SEND HIM TO MEDICAL, AND WE COULDN’T WAIT FOR HIM!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, TOOK HIS HAND OFF!?!” Jakob was a little alarmed.

“I MEAN THAT THING JUST SNAPPED ITS JAWS AROUND THE MAN’S WRIST AND REMOVED IT!  DAMNDEST THING I EVER SAW!”

Jakob realized the two men who had been shaking their head earlier were now chuckling softly.  Glancing back at the crate, Jakob wondered what had caused the construct to malfunction, or was it an error on the handlers part?

BWONG!!

A loud metallic echo reverberated around the cabin and Jakob felt the Carrier lurch to the left.  Before he could figure out what was going on the cabin lights all turned to red.

When Jakob leaned forward to ask Sergeant Harkim what the hell was going on the man just waved his left hand at him to get him to shut up, while holding his right to the ear piece in his helmet.

“BRACE FOR IMPACT!  WE”RE GOIN’ DOWN!  PREPARE FOR CONTACT ONCE WE ARE ON THE GROUND!

A hundred questions sprang to Jakob’s mind all at once.  Going down?  We are out over the Wastes aren’t we?  How far out are we? 

Jakob could feel the Assault Carrier slowly rolling over to the left.  At least it felt like it was.  It was impossible to tell in the windowless cabin.  All he had to go on where his own senses, but they were definitely going down.

The Valkyrie hit hard on its left side causing Jackob's head slam into the headrest. The assault carrier somersaulted several times before it came to a rest on its roof. As it came to a stop industrial resins and dust that make up the Ash Wastes rushed in from the now rent troop hatch in the rear.

Coughing and movement could be heard in other parts of the cabin, but Jakob could not tell how many were now working to free themselves.  His mind and body were working in slow motion to get himself free.  It took both of his hands pulling up and away on the latch on his chest to open up the harness that held him in place.  Before he remembered that he was hanging upside down the unceremonial collapse on the ceiling reminded him.

Righting himself he heard a muffled call for help to his left.  Moving on all fours he crawled until he found the bulkhead separating the troop hold and the crew cabin.  Reaching up through the dust Jakob fumbled with the inverted door latch to get it open.  When he finally got it to release one of the crew stumbled into him knocking him off his knees, and then rushed on past without another word.

“Your welcome,” Jakob thought to himself and followed along as fast as he could.

The air thinned out significantly the closer he got to the troop hatch, but it wasn’t much easier to breathe than the dust further in.  It smelled of formaldehyde mixed with bleach, and about as easy on the throat as it was on his nostrils.  Just as panic was setting in he remembered that the Sergeant had stowed his equipment in duffel bags strapped to the now broken door.  Fortunately several of the bags had ripped open dumping the gear into the wastes that had spilled through the gaps.  Unfortunately it was all intermixed.  Jakob plowed through the mess until he found a full face respirator.  Without a second thought he threw the straps over his head and secured it in place.  With that finally accomplished he sat back on his rump and concentrated on breathing for a minute.

Not too distant shouts drew him back to the here and now.  Suddenly an explosion against the hull of the Valkyrie rocked his world.  Afterwards the sounds of sporadic gun fire both near and far told him he had better get moving.

Rummaging through the spilled equipment he couldn’t find a single weapon.  As the gunfire grew more urgent he gave up searching for a side arm and instead turned his attention to the crated up Cyber Mastiff that was now lying on its side.

He started in with his bare hands.  These were ineffective, doing nothing more than causing a few splinters to shoot up under his fingernails as he scratched at the edges.  Frantically he spun around to renew his search through the pile of gear.  As he turned his eyes caught a glimpse of a discarded Power Maul in the ash.  Reaching down to pick it up he noticed the troop harness closest to the door.  The Enforcer never made it clear.  His head was slumped forward and his hands still grasped a steel rod that pinned him to his seat through his lower abdomen.

Jakob winced, but didn’t hesitate.  He secured the Power Maul on his belt and then, with both hands, grabbed the pole and began to tug it free.  On the fourth yank it came free.  Jakob nodded his head in thanks towards the corpse and then turned back to the crate.

Using the bar like a spear Jakob began striking at the crate where pieces of wood came together. Splinters chipped off with each strike.  Whenever the bar did not immediately pull free Jakob would pry back and forth trying to find enough leverage to split the seam.

Sweat started dripping from his faceand collecting around his chin inside his respirator.  Finally he managed to get one complete side of the crate open.  He had to tug several times in order to get the seventy five kilogram construct free from its packaging.

The Cyber Mastiff was heavy, and hard to maneuver, but he got it to sit up right, just like it was sitting down on its hind quarters.  As he unlocked the sliding door to the recessed power switch Jakob heard a man cry out very close by.  There wasn’t enough time.  Securing the bar like a spear in his left hand, he reached down and snatched up the power maul and activated it.  He wasn’t going to go out with a fight.  With determination on his face he stepped out into the ash wastes.

Jakob’s nerves nearly faltered as he stepped into the wastes.  It was brighter than he had anticipated, and the sounds of battle were all around him.  Holding his right hand up he shielded his eyes from the unexpected glare.  Pieces of the Valkyrie were strewn all around.  Sergeant Harkim had taken cover behind a torn off engine and was returning fire out into the wastes.  Jakob closed the distance with his Sergeant and took cover next to him.

“Where’s your Mastiff Enforcer?”

Jakob looked across to his Sergeant and was about to answer when a man emerged from around the engine yelling at the top of his lungs, a massive bar with a block a ferrocrette attached to the end of it held over his head with both hands poised to plummet down on top of Jakob’s head.

“BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBALM!!!”

Jakob’s ears were now ringing from the sonic booms of his Sergeant’s Bolt Pistol being emptied while held less than a meter from the side of his head.  The monster of a man dropped into the wastes with several gaping wounds to his chest and stomach.

“Where’s your Combat Shotgun!?!  You’re no use to me here!  Get back to the weapons locker on the Valkerie on the double!  I don’t want to see you again unless you’ve got a real weapon in your hand dammit!”

Jakob moved the apparently useless power maul to his left hand where he also clutched the equally ineffective improvised spear, and then shifted his weight to make a dash back to the downed transport.  As soon as he perceived a lull in the incoming fire he took off at full speed.

CRACK!

Just as Jakob got within two meters of the shuttle a bolt of static-lightning arced from the chemical clouds above and struck the metal bar in his right hand, it then arced over to the hull of the inverted shuttle where it completed its circuit to the ground.  Instantly every muscle in Jakob’s body contracted, this along with the rapidly expanding ozone around the electrical arc launched his body the twenty meters back to the dislodged engine.

For several moments Jakob sat there with the world moving in slow motion.  Every nerve ending in his body tingled, and he could see smoke wafting up from all four of his limbs.  His mind had not fully grasped what had just happened when a Combat Shotgun was thrust into his field of view.  Looking up one of the other survivors was shoving his personal shotgun and bandolier of ammunition into Jakob’s lap.

“I want it back when this is all over.” Was all the man said as Jakob took the offered weapon.  With that done the survivor ran back across an open stretch of ground to another piece of debris.

Looking around, things were not going well.  He counted three other survivors returning fire from an as yet undetermined number of enemies.

“Shoot you fool!”

Jakob turned and saw Sergeant Harkim looking over his shoulder at him.  Jakob glanced down at the shotgun, and then out into the wastes.  Everything had a blue hue to it.  Without warning the Sergeant grabbed Jakob by the collar and shoved him into the ash behind the engine.

“Now shoot dammit, or the next person I kill will be you!”

Jakob peered through the smoke and dust, but still couldn’t see anyone.  Without thinking he braced the shotgun across the engine and sent two rounds out into the waste.  He didn’t expect to hit anything, but at least the Sergeant would think he was doing his duty.

“That’s more like it!” Sergeant Harkim said behind him.

Suddenly Jakob felt the presence of something behind him.  Whirling around he saw a nomad with a vicious looking knife that had a blade both above and below the grip poised to strike his now kneeling Sergeant, who was unaware of his impending doom as he reloaded his bolt pistol.

Jakob reacted instinctively.  Using the butt stock of his borrowed shotgun he knocked the kill strike harmlessly away from his Sergeant.  The Nomad then turned his attention to his new opponent.

The nomad became a whirlwind with the knife.  Jakob could not put any distance between himself and his attacker in order to bring his shotgun to bear.  Slowly the nomad pushed him across the wastes towards the downed shuttle.  Finally Jakob’s back made contact with the hull of the ship.  In desperation Jakob performed an uppercut move with the butt of the shotgun, connecting with the man’s chin, sending him tumbling backwards into the wastes where he landed like a rag.

Jakob stepped forward to gloat over his prize when an awareness of something coming from his right interrupted him.  Turning to the side his eyes caught a glimpse of yet another nomad, just before he landed a vicious haymaker into Jakob’s cheek.  He had used the iron knuckle grip of his own double bladed knife.  Jakob’s head spun quickly back to the left from the impact to the side of his face.  His body quickly followed.  All sense of up and down quickly left him, but before he lost his footing complete Jakob both heard and felt the shots from the man’s second weapon – a customized heavy caliber semi-automatic pistol held in his right hand.  Jakob staggered under the assault, but managed to turn and face his opponent.  Sluggishly he raised his arms up to bring the shotgun to bear.

“You hive maggot.  You’ve got no place out here.  We own the wastes of Necromunda!”

The nomad thrust his double bladed knife into Jakob’s side to emphasize his point.  Jakob wanted to cry out in pain but found that he couldn’t catch his breath enough to scream.  When the nomad pulled his blade back free Jakob no longer had the strength to stand and sank to his knees. The taste of metal filled his mouth.  As the world faded to black he was wondering why he had ever listened to that voice in his head.

-=-=-=0=-=-=-

[Jakob 6] - Indoctrinations

“Ok, now, depress the toggle button located just below the collar, one time.”

Jakob looked nervously around the room and was met by return looks from his fellow Enforcer students. The nine men and three women had been segregated from the rest of the trainees to specialize in the handling of the Enforcer’s robotic dog construct, usually more affectionately known as a Cyber Mastiff or Razor Fangs. This had been the first time anyone had been able to actually put hands on the system and after hours of briefings of just how specialized this piece of equipment truly was, no one was sure just exactly what would happen once the construct had been activated. Jakob took a silent breath and then depressed the button as instructed. As soon as the button clicked Jakob heard the internal gyros begin to hum softly as they accelerated to operating speed.

“For the first fifteen seconds after activation the system is identifying you as the owner, so it is important to remember to chant the litany of operations until the system is fully functional.”

A sound that could only be described as a deep bass-like rumble of grinding machinery began to emit from the throat of a now standing and alert Cyber Mastiff. Before now, the only time Jakob had encountered these machines was when he would come across the security teams performing sweeps through the factory his father operated for house Van Saar. In every encounter he vividly remembered the throaty metallic rumble and his own fear paralyzing voluntary thought and muscle control of his body. Jakob tried his best to not look like he was scared now, and then wondered if the thing even cared.

“Once the construct has imprinted itself with your signature it will only take orders from you. Go ahead; speak to it so it can register your individual voice patterns.”

For several long moments Jakob starred at the razor sharp teeth. ‘What in the world do you say to a machine that is designed to tear your throat out’?

“Sit”, was all that came to mind.

The razor sharp teeth and jaws, which had been slightly ajar to this point, snapped shut and the rear legs folded up placing the hind quarters firmly on the ground. The construct’s back was ramrod straight, the metallic ears fully extended forward, and the head dropped to a thirty five degree angle to the right.

“If you graduate you will be assigned a brand new construct. It would behoove you to activate and imprint your unit as soon as practical.”

For the next several days Jakob and the other trainees where trained not only how to control the Cyber Mastiff, but how to completely disassemble and rebuild it. Four of the others had washed out before the end of this phase of the training. They were unable to keep up and understand the ancient technology. A lifetime of his father’s harping and chastisement while he was growing up had finally paid off. While he found himself chaffing at the Enginseer’s constant references to the Machine Cult of Mars, he knew enough from the Van Saar indoctrinations to ensure he could manipulate the technology well enough to pass the tests.

After the two weeks of “bench time”, the Enginseer instructor moved the eight remaining trainees to the field work portion of the training. Here the handlers learned how to put the Cyber Mastiff through its paces. From simple commands like heal, sit and stay, to the more complex such as attack and search. With each passing day Jakob grew more proficient, but there was always uneasiness just below the surface. Something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

As Jakob left the final exam for becoming a Cyber Mastiff handler he saw a bounty hunter leave the Commandant’s office. While bounty hunters came and went around Enforcers, he had not seen any around the training area since he had started.

“Maybe one of the guys are running from the law,” he thought to himself,

“Jakob! Report to the Commandant’s office!”

“Oh yea, that’s me.” He thought glumly as he jogged over to the officer that had called him.

Commandant Thios sized up his recruit as he approached. The kid was smart, top in the Cyber Handler classes and often called to assist the instructor with the other students, but the news Kronus had just brought him could spell trouble for the lad.

“Step into my office. Leave the mutt outside.”

“Coosh, sit.”

Jakob watched the construct spin around and plant its metal rear end with a metallic tink just outside of the Commandant’s door. As he entered the office he marched straight to the worn spot on the carpet across the desk from the officer’s chair.

“Do you know why you are here Cadet?”

“No sir,” was all Jakob said. He fidgeted with his fingers, and his eyes were wondering around as he tried to anticipate what was coming next.

“Just had a visit from an old friend,” the Enforcer officer said as he thumbed towards the door. “He brought me an interesting tale of a Van Saar guild member searching for his son. He seems to think that he has joined up with the Enforcers. Do you know anything about that son?”

Jakob stood transfixed for several moments. He could feel the sweat dripping down his lower back and was sure that his brow was growing damp as well. In the end he decided to just admit to being the one he was talking about.

“Commandant Thios, I… that is… Sir, I had headed downhive without my Father’s permission. I am the youngest of… well, I have a lot of brothers and sisters… and my mother doesn’t know about all of them… Sir. When I left the last thing I expected was for my family to come looking for me.”

“Settle down Cadet. I’m not going to just hand you over. You are a part of Lord Helmawr’s family now. You are a member of his Enforcer’s now.”

Jakob’s mind was beginning to drift, too many things going on. What was Colonel Thios getting at? If he was being sent back, could he make his escape?

Seeing the tension in his cadet’s face he stood up and came around to the front of the desk and sat down on the edge of it. From this position his face was lit up by a rare, and very expensive, fiber optic sunlight that actually threaded its way to the edge of the hive above the cloud layer to channel light into the room.

“Son, you have been a very good student here, and though your papa might have some clout in Hive City, that does not extend to the Spires above. Just say the word and I ensure you will be beyond your father’s reach forever.”

Jakob’s mind snapped back to the here and now. “Sir, I really don’t want to go back.”

“Done,” Colonel Thios had said before Jakob even fully formed the words. “You are to report to Corporal Harkim for transport to Hive: Octundus.”

“Yes sir.” Was all Jakob said as he saluted and then spun on his heels to leave.

“Welcome to the force Enforcer.”

Jakob nodded his thanks and left the office. Just outside he paused for a moment and thought about heading back to his bunk. There was nothing there he cared to keep, or that couldn’t be readily replaced.

“Coosh, come,” he said to his construct and left to meet with the Supply Sergeant, and then to catch his ride to his new home.

[Jakob 5] - Fit for Duty

“There he is! Come on Brothers; let us teach this heretic a lesson!”

Ian and Jakob turned around. Fifty meters down the road, between themselves and the Bifröst stood three Cawdor gangers. Jakob had nothing but a knife on him. Ian was not much better off with just his las-pistol on his hip having left his hot-shot lasgun, with the rest of his travel kit, in the medical bay.

Among the three Cawdor Ian could make out a shotgun in the hands of one of them, while the other two had auto-pistols in hand. Ian drew his laspistol and stepped in between Jakob and the approaching zealots. He snapped off a shot hoping to cause them to hesitate more than anything else, all the while he was pushing Jakob to a narrow alleyway. If there wasn’t a way out on the other end, at least the Cawdor would have to approach single file.

They were in luck, the alley was wide enough for the two walk in a staggered line. That is if the ground hadn’t been strewn with large chunks of debris. As it was they had to walk single file down the length with plenty of cover and it opened up onto a parallel street.

As Ian neared the far end of the alley from where they entered he let loose several shots down the lane back the way they had come to keep his pursuers honest. As he was distracted looking and shooting to the rear he ran headlong into the back of Jakob, this knocked both of them sprawling to the alley floor.

“What in blazes…!”

“Ssh,” Jakob hushed Ian and pointed towards the opening to their front. “There’s one of them up ahead, waiting just around the corner.”

“How could you possibly…?”

“SSSH!” Jakob said, this time placing his hand over the ganger’s mouth. It was then that Ian noticed that Jakob’s eyes had a tint of blue glowing from them. He just nodded his head.

Jakob closed his eyes as he got slowly to his feet. Ian noticed that Jakob’s eyelids were not containing the blue light as it began to get brighter. Jakob began to cup his hands together, like he was playing with a small ball. It reminded Ian of “Bomb Toss”, a game he and his friends played as kids. It was supposed to be like throwing grenades into buckets, but only with rocks or balls.

Jakob cocked his right hand back, and then let loose, just like he was tossing a real grenade. A half meter out a small yellow orb appeared out of nowhere and flew along the arc towards the end of the alley. When it impacted the ground just beyond the edge of the alley it flared up like a miniature sun. There was at least one cry of pain from around the corner. If it weren’t for the photo-visor Ian always wore he was sure it would have blinded him.

“Come on! We have to make our break for it.” Jakob said as pulled Ian to his feet and then bolted for the street.

“How did you… What was that?!?” Ian cried as he jumped to his feet and followed. When he reached the street he looked to his right and there was a single Cawdor ganger on his knees with both palms rubbing his eyes, a shotgun lay on the ground next to him. That would have been a nasty surprise to be sure.

“How did you…?”

“I don’t know,” was all that Jakob would say on the matter.

The two continued to run as straight as they could to the Enforcer Precinct House. When they got within one hundred meters of the gate the shouting from their Cawdor pursuers picked up again. This time however a quick burst from a heavy bolter within a turret adjacent to an armored gate silenced them and sent the zealots scurrying for cover.

When they got to the gate a shuttered slot at eye level slid open.

“Speak your business citizen,” came an unemotional voice from within.

“I want to join the Enforcers,” Jakob replied. Ian just stood there with his las pistol in hand looking back the way they had come.

Silence greeted them. Jakob was just about to speak up again when they heard heavy locks disengaging. When that was done a door shaped portico within the left half of the heavy gate swung outward and then up on heavy hydraulic pistons. Three men clad in black carapace armor swarmed out into the street. The first was armed with a flamer, the pilot light at the end of the nozzle hissed loudly as he ran past them and set up on their left. The second Enforcer followed out the door wielded a sleek combat shotgun, which he cocked as he moved past and to their right. The third one had three blue chevrons painted on the right chest plate, and left shoulder pad of his armor. On his right hip he wore a standard issue Bolt Pistol and on his left hung a tethered power maul.

As the Sergeant stepped forward he thrust his left hand forward, “weapons!” Was all the helmeted man said. Ian hesitated for a moment and before he could think about it any further the Sergeant swept his armored leg from left to right, knocking both of Ian’s feet out from under him. Ian starred into the blackness of the dome above as he somersaulted and landed heavily on his back. This knocked the wind out of him. Before he could recover his breath or his wits, the Sergeant snatched the las pistol out of his hand. Turning to look back at Jakob he said, “So, you want to join Lord Helmawr’s Enforcers, eh?”

Jakob looked from his disarmed companion on the ground back to the Enforcer Sergeant and nodded.

“Yes sir, I definitely do.”

“Very well, you two come with me.”

Before Ian could catch his breath to say that he wasn’t there to join up, the shotgun Enforcer scooped him up and half dragged, half threw him through the doorway behind the Sergeant and Jakob.

It took Ian a good ten meters to get his feet back under him, and even then he was practically running to keep pace with the Enforcers. The five meter wide hallway was immaculate. The floor and walls were seamlessly poured ferrocrette, every five meters hung dim lumination assemblies that cast the light only downward, leaving the area above in shadow. Heavy footsteps of the Enforcers echoed loudly off the walls as they walked. Thirty meters down the hallway ended at another massive armored gate, on the right stood an open portico similar to that at the entrance way. As the last of the five men entered the room the armored door slid shut behind him.

“Sit,” the Sergeant said firmly, apparently for Jakob and Ian since neither of the other two Enforcers moved to take a seat.

In the center of the room was a plain 2 meter by 5 meter metal table. Around the table were ten metal chairs. Both the table, and the chairs, were bolted to the floor. Jakob and Ian sat next to each other along one of the sides.

“I’m not…” Ian tried to protest.

“Silence. You will speak only when spoken too citizen.”

“But I…”

“I said silence, unless you wish to be silenced.”

Ian snapped his mouth shut and glanced quickly at the other officers. Neither had moved other than a slightly perceptible tightening and loosening of their facial and neck muscles.

“I need to know what business those Cawdor would have with you, and why in your flight from them you suddenly decided that you wished to join Lord Helmawr’s Enforcers.” The Sergeant turned his gaze from Ian to Jakob.

Jakob glanced at Ian, unsure if that was a question or a statement.

“Speak!”

The Sergeant raised his voice for the first time and it startled both Van Saar men.

“Um…,” Jakob said as he cleared his throat. “I don’t have any business with them. They just decided that I was a heretic because I wouldn’t join up with them. I was already on my way here Enfor… I mean Si… um, Sergeant.” Jakob managed to sit still despite the fact his racing heart threatened to break free from his chest at any moment.

“And you?” The Sergeant said turning his attention back to Ian.

Ian nervously shifted in his seat. “As I was trying to say earlier, I am not here to join up. Jakob here is a friend of mine, and I was trying to talk him out of it. I think he should join up with me and my gang instead.”

The Enforcer with the Shotgun snorted. When he did so, the Sergeant turned his head to look at him over his shoulder, the Enforcer composed himself and was silent once more. Turning his back forward the Sergeant leaned in, “then your business here is concluded.” He stepped back and motioned towards the door that they had entered through.

Ian stood and turned to Jakob, “It was good knowing you Jakob. Take care of yourself.”

Jakob stood and the two reached out and gripped each other’s forearm firmly.

“You too Ian.”

With that Ian left the room followed by the shotgun Enforcer. When Ian reached the front gate the Enforcer handed him his las pistol and the armored door swung up and away. With a nod of thanks Ian stepped through to the street beyond. Without a word from the Enforcer the door swung down and shut. Ian could hear the heavy bolt locks sliding into place.

Looking down the causeway back towards the Bifröst there were no signs of the Cawdor who had chased them. Ian glanced up at the small fortress poised at the edge of the bridge that led to the Under Hive, its cold hard walls giving no indication that it cared he was even there, and then turned to head back to his home.

When Ian was out of range of the armored heavy bolters of the Enforcer’s Precinct House a lone Cawdor stepped from the shadows causing him to whip his pistol from its holster.

“If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead already Van Saar. Just know this, best purge yourself from the taint of the one you left behind lest the judgment of the almighty Emperor befall you.”

And with that the Cawdor ganger turned and walked away leaving Ian to his thoughts.

“I am going to have a devil of a time explaining this to Dyrke…”

-=-=-=0=-=-=-

Jakob sat on the end of the bunk he had been assigned after he had informed the Enforcer Sergeant that he had wanted to enlist in Lord Helmawr’s police force. Since then he had been their guest, a neglected guest, but a guest nonetheless. The only one who had spoken to him during his stay thus far had been the Sergeant. He had introduced himself as Cornelius.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” the Sergeant had asked him the morning after Ian had left. Jakob had answered that he was, but at the time he had some doubt. As time when on his resolve had become much more resolute. All that had awaited him back home was a father who never intimated he was good enough and siblings who had ostracized him. No, he was sure that he did indeed want to become an Enforcer.

“Come on, time to see if you have what it takes.”

Broken from his reverie Jakob acknowledged the Sergeant and quickly followed him out into the hall.

“Am I leaving for training now?” Jakob asked.

The Enforcer Sergeant spoke over his shoulder as he led him down the hallway. “Not yet. We have to see if there are any ghosts in your closet. We want to know if you are hiding anything, or if there is anything we need to know about first.”

“What do you mean?” Jakob began to get nervous. When the Sergeant didn’t reply Jakob’s heart began to pound harder in his chest.

The two walked on in silence through several more hallways until they came back to the same room Jakob had first met Sergeant Cornelius and the other Enforcers. The Sergeant stood to the side of the doorway and motioned for Jakob to enter. As Jakob neared the door the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, he hesitated half a second and then stepped through the doorway. As Jakob he did, a man dressed in the traditional issue black clothing of the Enforcers, minus the armor, with a black cowl and a two meter long black staff adorned with Lord Helmawr’s heraldry, stood and greet him.

“Mr. Vaultier? A pleasure I am sure.”

Jakob stopped and looked back at the Enforcer Sergeant who was already closing the heavy door behind him, leaving Jakob alone with the man.

“Please, have a seat.”

Jakob hesitated.

“Come now, I am not here to harm you. This is just an informal interview. Lord Helmawr is rather… selective of the men who enter his police force. There is no room for those with impure hearts or minds in the service to the Spire.”

Jakob felt the tingling sensation begin to well up within him; he closed his eyes taut in an attempt to keep any changes there a secret from the man. When the sensation subsided Jakob looked back up to see an intrigued expression on the man’s face.

The man then closed his own eyes and began uttering something in a language that Jakob was unfamiliar with. The man’s began to glow purple as he raised the staff in his left hand, and when he reopened his eyes Jakob felt a warm sensation wash over him from the soles of his feet to the very roots of his hair on the top of his head. He was powerless to resist it, and he didn’t try. Jakob could tell that his mind was being completely inspected. He knew that his secret wasn’t going to remain a secret for much longer.

The man then closed his own eyes and began uttering something in a language that Jakob was unfamiliar with. The man’s began to glow purple as he raised the staff in his left hand, and when he reopened his eyes Jakob felt a warm sensation wash over him from the soles of his feet to the very roots of his hair on the top of his head. He was powerless to resist it, and he didn’t try. Jakob could tell that his mind was being completely inspected. He knew that his secret wasn’t going to remain a secret for much longer.

As the sensation faded the man opened his eyes. For several long minutes he appraised Jakob, his eyes moving back and forth, up and down, trying to discern something.

“Mr. Vaultier, when you first walked in, I would have said that you had the aura of an unsanctioned Psyker, which if I had been able to confirm, your life would have been forfeit here and now. But as it stands, we can continue our little chat.”

Jakob was unsure of what to say. While he knew there had been a chance he would be found out, he had not considered it would be so soon. What intrigued him more was why it was still a secret now.

Jakob was unsure of what to say. While he knew there had been a chance he would be found out, he had not considered it would be so soon. What intrigued him more was why it was still a secret now.

Jakob wanted more than anything to avert his eyes from the penetrating gaze of the Enforcer Psyker, but he forced himself to keep them locked on the purple irises of his interrogator.

For several hours, long past Jakob had been able to keep track, the interview continued. The pair sparred back and forth. The hooded Enforcer would dance around the subject of why he was joining the Enforcers, the possibility of Jakob being truly tainted by the warp, his family, even his questionable hygiene. Jakob was wearing down and just as he was about to give in and confess the whole deal about fleeing the long reach of his father and his possessing the powers of the Warp his interrogator stood up, a warm smile upon his face. It was then that Jakob noticed the tingling sensation permeating across his entire body, even through his brain, and it was fading. He felt utterly exhausted.

“Congratulations Mr. Vaultier. You have passed the first test and you are on your way to a glorious life spent in the service of Lord Helmawr.”

As the man began to leave the room he turned and said, “Remember, no one is above suspicion”, and with that he left the room, leaving Jakob to try and gather the strength to stand up.

[Ian 30 / Jakob 4] Decision Gate

“Dyrke, you should reconsider this.”

Ian had been trying to convince the leader of the Steel Spiders for over an hour to take Jakob in instead of taking him home for the bounty. He was getting nowhere.

“His family is not going to just let it go. They have a pretty hefty bounty on his head to bring him back home.”

“Yea, but we….”

“You just don’t get it kid. He’s going back, and we leave in the morning.”

Ian knew when he had been dismissed and to try and continue the argument any further would only invite a collection run to the chemical pools. Nasty work. Without knowing where else to go he headed back to his workbench. At least there he could clear his head and focus on something else.

“I appreciate you sticking up for me like that.”

Ian nearly walked headlong into Jakob as he rounded the corner outside Dyrke's quarters.

“What… oh that. Well, the ability to just touch someone and heal them like that….”

“Yea, about that… You didn’t mention that to Dyrke did you?”

“No… people with that kind of ability tend to…”

“Yea… well, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go back home. My father is a little set in his ways. I’ve been searching for something for a long time, and well… he doesn’t approve. He feels that my time would be better spent in the office.”

“Well, I can tell you that Dyrke is pretty set in his ways too. He means to take you back to your family tomorrow, and I am pretty sure it is not going to matter to him if you go willingly or not.”

“I can’t go back Ian.”

The two Van Saar youths stood staring aimlessly at each other trying to gauge what the other one was thinking, and trying to figure out what to do. Finally Ian spoke up again.

“If you take off the Cawdor are likely to find you again. Even if they don’t, some bounty hunter looking to collect on the reward your family set up will. And if word ever gets out about your little… ‘gift’… you will have even worse things to think about.”

Jakob considered this for a moment. “Then I need to go to the one place nobody will thing of, and yet be able to be in plain sight.”

Ian snorted, “where in all of Hive: Primus could that possibly be?”

Jakob got a big grin on his face, “They will never find me there.” He said out loud to himself.

“Where?”

“Come on, I think I saw where up on the deck of the bridge.”

Ian followed only because his own curiosity got the better of him. The pair climbed the ladders back up to the Bifröst, and then out onto the deck of the massive bridge that was once a part of an interdome commuting connector. Instead of heading towards Hive City like Ian thought was his intention, they headed to the far end, the one closest to the Underhive.

“I thought you said you were going to try and hide in plain sight.” Ian said as he put a hand on Jakob’s shoulder and spun him around.

“Oh, I am. It’s ingenious! Where I am going is right over there.”

Ian followed Jakob’s arm to where he was pointing. “I’m not sure that would be the best course of action. If anyone suspected that you’re a Wyrd… the Enforcers will most likely be the ones to come and get you.”

“Yea, but how closely do they look at themselves?”

[Ian - 29 / Jakob - 3] A Brush with Death

Once Ian had cleaned himself up he climbed up the three levels to the Bifröst’s deck level. Although he felt better on the outside after his chem-shower, he needed to get something to eat and then to climb into his rack for a couple of shift cycles to shake the fatigue he felt throughout his body.

Ian waved down the length of the bar to get the barkeeps attention, “Chigger! I need a couple of “rats-on-a-spit” and a nice tall glass of water!”

The barkeep nodded his head in acknowledgement and put down the metallic cup his was cleaning with his shirt. Ian settled into the barstool at the Spider’s end of the bar. From here he could scope out the main room of the Bifröst. He was hoping to catch a glimpse of Amber. It had been over a week since he had held her in his arms.

“Come to think of it,” Ian said to himself, “where is everybody else?”

“Here ya are kid” Chigger said as he set the food and drink down in front of the Van Saar medic and tinkerer.

Ian spun back around and dived into his meal. It wasn’t gourmet, but it sure beat the synth-soy crap most down hivers had to scrape by on. Besides, the faster you got it into your gullet, the less you had to think about it. Once he had shoved the last bite into his mouth he leaned back to look up at the monitors showing one of the closed circuit channels of rat races the local Guilders ran. The rodents for the next race were being shown on screen and Ian leaned back to get a better view.

“Hey Chigger! Put me down for ten guilders on number 4!”

The barman nodded in Ian’s direction and turned and scribbled on a data slate under the counter. Once his bet was secured Ian leaned back to get a better view of the dingy screen above the bar. If nothing else it would provide a nice diversion until Amber returned from whatever errands Dyrke had her running.

Before the race could start several factory workers from nearby Hive City came stumbling in to the front room of the Bifröst. The front rank got pushed to the floor as several ranks behind them continue to surge further in.

“Cash only!” Chigger yelled from behind the bar. At the voice of their boss, and owner of the bar, several Goliath bouncers moved to evict the new trespassers.

“They’re about to start killin’ each other out there!” One of the denizens said as he climbed out from under the tangle of bodies now on the floor.

“Who’s trying to kill each other?” the barman called back.

“Some Escher gang calling themselves ‘The Black Cats’ or somethin.”

That caught Ian’s attention and he turned to face the crowd. “Who are they facing off against?” He asked as he moved up to face the now defacto leader of the mob.

The man looked nervous and glanced at one of his compatriots as if to see what he should say. “A bunch of lads and a lass dressed a whole lot like you.” He stuttered.

Ian moved back and forth to look for a way around the throng of humans now crowding the front door of the bar. There was no time to run back to his hab to grab his lasgun. He’d have to make do with his las pistol there on his hip. Before he could find a path through the distinct sound of gun fire began echoing off the surrounding area outside. This caused two things to happen simultaneously.

The first was that the mob of civilian factory workers began to panic and surge forward further into the Bifröst. The second was that the surge met the four Goliath bouncers blocking any further progress. The resulting melee prevented Ian from making any more progress through the front door. Seeing his way blocked he took off running for the backroom where Chigger had a door to the back alley.

Once he cleared the back door he made a sharp right to get back to the street in front of the pub. Several more bystanders were huddled behind whatever cover they could find. The gun battle was in full force. Just as Ian broke from the alleyway a huge explosion knocked him back, flat on to his rear end.

Once he had shook his head clear he jumped back to his feet and raced back out into the street. By now it was mostly deserted. Hargrave and Xander were blasting away at two retreating Esher. There were two more of the scantily clad women sprawled out in the street in the direction the other two had fled. It was then he caught a glimpse of a tri-color body suit piled in a heap. He ran to the body.

As drew near Ian immediately recognized the victim. There was a pool of blood underneath the head, with long strands of red hair covering both her face and whatever the injury was. Amber’s body-glove was shredded and fresh cuts were bleeding everywhere. He saw her chest moving slightly so she was still alive, but it was impossible to tell just how injured she really was. While supporting her head he slowly rolled her onto her back, her thick locks were matted thickly with blood and dirt from the street. As he rolled her over it covered her face, but he was too distracted by all of the wounds covering her arms, legs, and body. He began with her torso. Each wound he examined was superficial. There might be a couple of new scars, but nothing deep enough to warrant further attention for now. Next he examined her arms and legs. Same results and he began to breathe easier. Perhaps the concussion of whatever it was that caused the explosion merely knocked her senseless.

Gently he began to move the hair from his love’s face. It was then he discovered the source of all of the blood. Her right eye was completely missing with the tissue beyond clearly visible and ripped to shreds. The bone was pulverized and she was still bleeding profusely. He swallowed hard the panic that quickly rose into his throat and scooped her up in his arms.

Without calling to the other Steel Spiders he ran back down the alley to the back entrance. He did not have a lot of time, and was not willing to try the front door to the Bifröst. He kicked open the back door and rushed through the common room to the Spider’s private entrance. By the time he had made it to the ladders Renny was there to help him get her back down the three levels to the where the sanatorium was.

When he burst through the curtains that made up the door to his work/hab space the kid he and the other Spider’s rescued sat up. Seeing that Ian had a wounded person in his arms the kid cleared off the table closest to the doorway. Between the three men they gently laid Amber down. With his hands now free he immediately picked up sanitizer and clean rags to dress the gaping wound. Next he picked out what little stims he had available. There was no way he was going to save her eye (he wasn’t even sure where it was), but he might be able to save her life. Once he was satisfied that he had done everything he could for her face and head he moved on to cleaning out the less serious injuries that covered most of the rest of her body. He had to keep his mind completely clear so that he could focus on the tasks at hand.

As he finished stitching up a pretty deep cut on her left thigh he felt Renny smacking his right arm with the back of his left hand. Ian’s eyes followed his friends hand up his arm to his shoulder and then his face. Renny was staring at something across the table.

Following his friend’s gaze across the table his heart froze in his throat. The kid who they had rescued from the Cawdor had a bright cobalt blue light coming from both of his eyes. His mouth was set in grim determination. Then Ian realized that the kid’s hands where touching Amber’s face and shoulder. The hair on the back of Ian’s arms stood on end as the smell of ozone and a tingling sensation filled the room.

Ian watched, frozen, as the wounds that he had not dressed yet were slowly beginning to heal right before his eyes. He was both sickened with fear by what he was seeing, and too stunned to react.

Moments turned into minutes but neither Ian nor Renny could move. Then the blue light faded and the kid looked down. His hands were shaking and he raised them before his face to examine them.

A low moan came from Amber’s lips which drew Ian’s attention away from the Wyrd. She was coming to. He quickly looked over the rest of her body. There was no evidence of any trauma on her skin, only the tattered body-glove that covered her gave an evidence of what she had gone through.

Amber slowly reached up and pulled the rag bandage from her face. Ian was shocked to see both of her green eyes now looking back into his. His lifted his hands to brush the blood soaked hair away from her face so he could touch her cheek.

“What the hell just happened?” Renny said taking half a step back.

Ian slowly helped Amber up to a sitting position. She was obviously still disoriented. Once she was up he started to look her over once more. He could not find a scratch on her. No scars or anything.

“I… I don’t know,” the kid muttered. His hands still shook slightly and there was a fear in his own eyes.

Renny and Ian glanced at each other, neither was sure of what to say or do.

“Thank you,” was all Ian could stammer out.

“I don’t know how you did it… but, I am in your debt…” Amber said as she stood up from the table.

The kid slowly backed away holding his hands up before him, afraid that he might touch her again and what might happen. He never took his eyes off of his own hands. When his back finally touched the wall he practically leapt out of his own skin. Amber slowly lifted up her right hand as she slowly approached him, with her palm facing out to show that she wasn’t going to hurt him.

“What’s your name?” She asked.

“Ja-ja-jak-Jakob, m-my friends call me Jake.” The kid responded.

Amber gently took Jakob’s hand. His eyes snapped up to look into her face.

“Thank you Jakob,” she said looking back and then she gently shook his trembling hand.

“That is a handy skill you have there Jakob,” Ian said as he walked up behind Amber.

Jakob looked from face to face of the Van Saar gangers. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he just nodded.

“Ian!” Boanerges frantically shouted as he ran into the medical bay. “You need to come quick! Amber’s been…”

Boanerges nearly fell over stretcher near the door when he saw Amber standing there with a smirk on her face.

“How… I saw you in the street… you were…”

Amber looked over at Jakob who had a terrified look on his face. After hesitating a moment she motioned towards Ian.

“Ian brought me around the back. I was… knocked out by the concussion, but nothing serious. Ian cleaned up the scratches, but nothing to worry about.”

Making contact with Amber Ian said, “Yea, not even a scratch really. The blast must have scragged a rat or something.

Boanerges looked around the room like they were all daft. “But… I…, never mind.” And with that he left shaking his head.

“I better head back topside to see if any other Spiders need my help. Jakob, really, thank you.”

[Ian - 26 / Jakob 2] - When two paths meet

Ian looked down into the recovery forge where the fanatics supposedly dragged their captive off to.  The floor of the place was only five hundred by three hundred meters.  Several grinders and sifters lined the back wall with long dysfunctional conveyor systems branching out like strands of a spider web to various spots on the factory floor.  At the end of each conveyor system were a variety forges where the scrap metal or plastics could be melted down so that the various impurities could be removed and the rest shaped into cube ingots to be resold to the various factories uphive that kept Necromunda running.

From each of these stations their also ran a trough across the floor to take and dump the material that could not be recycled, into a central pit two meters square.   Around the rim was a walkway with handrails, and on one side an improvised dais.

 There were three guards roaming the factory, one on each end of the floor, and the last one was standing on the dais pretending to give some kind of speech.

Without a word Dyrke signaled Ian to stay put and cover them as they advanced.  He was to cover the speechmaker and take the shot only if necessary.  The wounded heavy, Gelder, would have to stay put with him.

From Ian’s vantage point he had a clear line of site to all three of the Cawdor Redemptionists.  It would be a reach for his lasgun to the two on edge of the factory, but he could make it happen if he needed.  It all depended on the situation that came up.  He watched as Rogers approached the man on his right, Renny the man on the left, while Dyrke took the center.  Each man got within three meters of their respective targets.  For several moments all three waiting until it was clear, then Dyrke leapt from his position and planted his axe firmly down into the color bone of his target.  This signaled the other two to launch their attacks as well.  Rogers was a little more subtle as his power sword slipped easily between his target’s shoulder blades and out his chest.  The man just looked down dumb founded before collapsing to the ground. Renny drew both of his las pistols and leveled them at the back of his target and pulled the trigger several times.  Ian froze solid as his ears perked up for the tell tale sign that the rest of the Redemptionists nearby had become aware of their presence.  Dyrke shot a glance over at Renny who just shrugged his shoulders like he didn’t know what they were all worried about.

After several minutes Ian allowed himself to breathe again.  From his position Dyrke signaled Ian to reverse his over watch position so that he could watch the approaches from the rear while the rest completed the rescue of their target. 

Ian picked up his lasgun and kit and did as he was told.  Gelder was fine enough to leave in place.  Being out on the edge of the action usually gave Ian the jitters.  He did not like to be left flapping out in the breeze.  After ten minutes Dyrke was already calling Ian down from his perch.  Dyrke wanted him to give the man a once over.

He looked awful.  His body-glove was ripped to shreds.  What was left of it was indicating that he had been exposed to a liquid form of a nerve agent.  Immediately Ian instructed Dyrke, Renny, and Rogers to clean their hands as their suits were showing indications of exposure around their hands and wrists as well.  Pulling a few rags out of his med kit bag he wiped the man down as best he could, but his eyes were glazed over (where they glowing blue?), and he was mostly unresponsive to any kind of verbal interaction, but he could follow simple physical guidance.  Without knowing how much time they had Dyrke pulled the man to his feet and led him by the arm towards the tunnel leading out of the Redemptionists dome.  Ian helped Gelder to his feet and quickly followed, leaving Rogers and Renny to pull up the rear.

The long trip back to the Bifröst was surprisingly uneventful.  The half dozen men that wound their way up hive barely turned a head.

-=-=-=O=-=-=-

As they climbed up the last ladder to their home Ian felt the tension drain out of him.  They had been gone a little over a week and all he wanted right now was a hot chem.-shower, a tall glass of water, a decent meal, and to lie in Amber’s arms; in that order.  With the help of Renny, Ian dropped both Gelder and the guy they had rescued onto two of the tables in the Steel Spider’s medical bay.  Looking around he noticed that Amber was not around.

“At least her gear is still here,” Ian thought to himself.

Gelder was pretty stable.  Just a change of dressings and he should be ok.  The wound had penetrated deep into his abdomen, but it looked like he would recover well enough.  The kid they had rescued he was not as sure about.

Ian had made sure that all of the chemical crap had been cleaned off of him and he had been given a new body glove just as soon as it was possible, but there was still something not right with the kid.  All the way back the kid rolled his eyes into the back of his head and babbled on about having to find it.  Some lost book or some other nonsense.  He had seen people delirious on some form of chem., or another, but this was different.  The Van Saar suit was no longer showing any indication of foreign chemicals in his system, and when his eyes rolled back they would glow a soft blue.  When that happened the hairs on the back of Ian’s neck would stand up. 

He had never seen one, but this had ‘Wyrd’ written all over it.  The roving priests from the Redemptionists cult like the ones they had just rescued this kid from, would love nothing more than to get their hands on this one.  Ian was sure the Enforcers would also like to know about it. But he had felt sorry for the kid.  There did not seem to be anything wrong with him… besides, the blue light could have been from his own exposure to the chemicals he had handled while tending to the kid.  Yeah, that was it,

“Just chems playing with my head” Ian told himself.  Once he made sure his new patients were comfortable he gathered up his hygiene kit and headed for the showers.

[Jakob 1] When you reach bottom...

Jakob just stood there covered in a chemical soup, starring up at the throng of hooded men surrounding the pit he now found himself in.  To a man they were howling, calling for his incineration, and frustration that the igniters had failed to ignite the liquid as it was sprayed all over him.  Whatever it was, it stung his eyes, and dug into every crevice of his body.  The Van Saar body glove that was designed to protect him from such exposures was shredded by his captors and barely covered any part of his body.

“Blasphemer!”, “Heretic!”, “Burn him!” were all heard from the men on the walkway above.  Finally, a man with robes and a hood covered in crimson flames, silently raised his hands.  He patiently waited as the mob fell silent.

“My righteous companions!” he shouted as he looked around to make sure he had their complete attention.  “For reasons unknown to me at this time, the Almighty Emperor has decided to spare this poor soul.  Perhaps he is worthy of redemption!”  Immediately the crowd called for another attempt at the pouring forth of the cleansing flame.  The leader raised his hands once again, calling for their silence.

“Who here would dare question the Emperor’s will? I will go and meditate upon this turn of events, but rest assured, this man will either be redeemed, or he will be purged of his evil ways with the cleansing flames of the undying Emperor!”  With that the crowd erupted in raucous approval. 

Slowly the crowd began to disperse.  The whole time the flame covered man just stood staring down at him.  Jakob could almost feel the hatred and contempt from his shrouded eyes.  Finally he was left alone in the pit, still covered head to toe in the chemicals that had been intended to incinerate him.  In their frenzy and frustration of trying to purge him, the zealous Cawdor had left the nozzles on longer than usual, and he now stood calf deep in whatever it was.  Apparently there was no drain to take the slop away.

It wasn’t until he was alone that the adrenaline that had kept him going for the past few hours finally failed him.  His knees buckled and he fell down on all fours.  As his hands and knees impacted the chemical pool it splashed up filling his mouth and nostrils, and covering his torso once more.  He was suddenly so exhausted he didn’t bother to try and clear his mouth or face and just hung his head there, using what little strength that was left in his limbs to keep himself from falling over and thus submerging himself further in the goop.  The chemicals were thick and dripping slowly off his body and out of his mouth and nose.  He just did not have the strength to do anything about it.

“A fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into Jake”, he said to himself.  “Mother always said you lived a charmed life.  What’s wrong Jake… not feeling so charmed right now?  You’re less then two weeks out of the house and you’ve ended up in the hands of the Cawdor who would like nothing more than to roast you alive.  Well, at least whatever this mess is, it isn’t flammable.  Wonder how much time this little development’s bought you.”

Jakob shifted his weight so that he could sit with his back against the wall.  Although the sickly sweet stench from the chemical pool was overpowering he had to find a way to rest before his arms gave out and he found his face submerged in it.  With a heavy sigh he looked around at his surroundings.  The walls were smooth sheets of plas-steel, four meters high, by two meters wide, and lined with a walkway at the top.  He resigned himself to the fact that he just didn’t have the strength to attempt such a leap.  Besides, it was not like he was used to exerting himself even before this little ‘journey’.  The nozzles that had sprayed him down were recessed in each of the four corners, and small enough that it was not possible to use as a way to climb up.  Almost imperceptibly he noticed that the scraps of his body glove had changed to an emerald green.  Indicating that the chemical slop he was sitting in was a minor neurotoxin.  Nothing he could do about that right now. 

“The next time I hear that still small voice telling me to wander down hive I really need to have my head examined… if there is a next time,” he said glumly to himself.  “Still… I was so sure that I would find something... proof that the Emperor was just a man, that the Machine Spirit is a fallacy.  Even better, something to confirm what he was hearing was real and that he was really not delusional.  Perhaps I shouldn’t have told my family.”

A smirk actually came across his face along with that last thought.  The Van Saar were nothing if not devout in their belief of the Machine Spirit.  The Emperor played second to the Machine Spirit, perhaps not in lip service, but most definitely in practice.  When he had shared this new found revelation with his older brothers and sisters they turned pale and had looked around to see if anyone had overheard the conversation.  Then they and had tried to convince him that he was delusional.  When they failed to convinced him to come around to their point of view they had subjected him to a severe beating.  Not enough to cause any kind of permanent injury of course, but they had gotten their point across.  The reception was even worse when he told the same story to his father.  His father sent him off to a private apprentice shop, one that specialized in the guidance of young minds in the ways of the Machine Spirit.

“Go, teach and train others… take nothing with you…, the voice said to me.  How can I be sure that I don’t just have some kind personality disorder?  Just who… or what… is ‘Ijam’ anyway?”

He had searched the family’s archives for any kind of reference to ‘Ijam’ and found nothing, so he arranged to gain access to the House Van Saar resources.  Still the information eluded him.  When those resources had been exhausted, at the cost of several disciplinary actions for not reporting to his duties at the factory on time, he began to search any external resource he could get access to.  While Hive City’s libraries were not as expansive as those of the Spire Houses, it had taken him several long months to work through it.  By then he had learned to keep his mouth shut about his new found beliefs.  Then an idea came to mind, what about the “Underhive”? There was no way he was going to be able to gain access to the Spire, so there was just no where else to go.  Suddenly he felt compelled to go in search for some lost archeotech that would show him what he was looking for.  Surely somewhere in the bowels of Hive-Primus he would find what he was looking for.  When he approached his father about his intentions he was scoffed at.  But when his father realized how determined Jakob was he reluctantly allowed him to go.  The only caveats were – he was to go alone, he could not expect any support from the family once he descended below, and that when he returned he was to put all of this foolishness behind him and settle into his rightful place.

“You didn’t have it so bad.  A job in management, no sweating it out on an assembly line, a decent place to live, and paid security guards and servants.  What did your father call it?  ‘Wanderlust’?  Why did I ever leave?  What did I hope to find?  They’d all cling to their precious superstitions; even if I found evidence of this… ‘Ijam’.  Bah!  I was a fool.”

As he sat there the fumes slowly overcame him and he passed out.