Opportunity Knocks

Ian was almost running. Chigger had passed along a juicy tidbit of information. Some Guilders who had been passing through yesterday had let slip that a new dome had been discovered, one that promised a “’treasure trove’ of archeotech that has not been seen in the underhive in many a century”. He wanted to make sure Dyrke heard about this, and quick.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, in his haste, Ian bowled Amber over. The pair ended up intertwined on the floor of the hallway.

“Um… are you ok?” Ian asked as he stood up, and then helped the woman to her feet.

“Yea, I’m good. Where you off to in such a hurry?”

“I need to see Dyrke. Is he down here?”

“Check the main room. I haven’t seen him all day.”

“Catch you later for dinner,” Ian said over his shoulder as he jogged off down the hall.

“Looking forward to it,” was her whispered reply.

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

“No.”

Ian’s mind was having a hard time wrapping around the words coming out of his leader’s mouth. He had grown to trust this man with his life, but it just didn’t make sense. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. This kind of thing does not come knocking very often.

“But, Boss…”

“I said no Ian. We are in control of a vital resource for House Van Saar right here and we are not moving.”

Ian adjusted himself and waited further reprimand. When it didn’t come he allowed himself to exhale. Dyrke dismissed the young man with a wave of his hand. Turning back to his thoughts Dyrke realized that there would be other chances to contribute to this new find. It would just have to be from afar.

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

Fist dropped his half full duffle bag at his feet and looked around. The cramped room was piled high with boxes. Looking around he couldn’t see anyone.

“Anyone here”, he called out as he knocked on the small counter.

“We meet once more Enforcer, or should I say, ‘Sergeant’ Fist.”

Fist turned to meet the familiar voice. “Judge Malcavoy,” Fist said as he assumed a parade stance, “a pleasure to see you again.”

“Yes,” the judge motioned for his two Cyber Mastiff companions to sit and assume a guarded stance. The sound of the gyros was slightly unnerving, even for one who trains around the beasts regularly. Fist shifted in his stance slightly. “It would seem that you have continued to prove yourself, despite my first impressions of you Enforcer. You have proven me incorrect in my assessment. A rarity, I assure you.”

Fist was about to thank the Judge but was not allowed the opportunity. Producing a large envelope from somewhere within his commissar-like overcoat the Judge continued.

“I have taken steps to arrange for you and your Patrol’s equipment. Also, enclosed within this envelop you will find a dossier of each man I hand selected.”

Fist ripped open the envelope as Judge Malcavoy continued.

“Unfortunately time did not allow me to assemble all of the men before you are to depart. I will personally see to it that they arrive as quickly as possible. The ones who were readily available I have waiting outside.”

Fist reviewed the roster and each man’s specialty. ‘Heavy Stubber, good. Grenade Launcher’, Fist would have preferred a flamer but it would be fine, it would have to be apparently. ‘A sniper? Interesting. A Handler with Cyber Mastiff, excellent. A pair of assault trained Enforcers and a trio of standard shotgun Enforcers – they should form a good core. This is odd…’

“Sir, this is an excellent mix of men and equipment. But I wonder,” Fist hesitated a moment. He did not want to come across as questioning his superior’s decision. “Why a demolitions expert? In my experience…”

“Your experience is barely worth noting,” Judge Malcavoy interrupted. “Froster is an excellent man, and you will find that he will be able to get you through any obstacle. Any more questions?”

Fist hesitated. Even if he did he wouldn’t speak up now.

“Oh, and there is one more thing. You will no longer go by the name ‘Fist’. It is to crude and is not a proper reflection of one who represents Lord Helmawr.”

Fist looked up, slightly confused.

“Your name is now ‘Julius’. A more proper and appropriate name don’t you think?”

But before Fist could respond the judge turned on his heals and left. The Cyber Mastiffs turning inward followed on the heels of their master.

“Oh, and you won’t be carrying that barbaric shotgun anymore either,” he called over his disappearing shoulder. “I have left you a present there on the counter.”

Fist stood their dumbfounded. Was there nothing this man did not feel he could control? He started to wonder if he would ever enjoy any sort of free reign, even as a Sergeant. He began to loathe this unwanted mentor.

Turning to the counter was a rectangular military style container; the locking clasps were facing him. Not knowing what else to do he slowly opened up the box.

Inside, held with form fitting insulating foam, was a Power Maul, two power cells, a slightly decorated Bolt Pistol with ‘Julius’ and his new rank etched and stenciled into the side, and two full clips of ammunition.

“One can never overlook the generosity of others", Fist thought to himself. "Opportunity does not come knocking all that often.”