[Ian 30] - Cast Out

The assailant’s fist landed like a hammer blow on Ian’s right cheek and his vision filled with stars as his head began to swim.

“Where did you take him?!?”

Another hammer blow to his stomach took all of the wind out of him making it impossible to answer.  It also caused all of the strength to evaporate from his legs and he collapsed in a heap to the floor, gasping, desperately trying to refill his lungs with air.

“Stop it!” a voice cried out from somewhere at the edge of his vision. 

“Shut up bitch!  Unless you want the same,” his assailant replied.

Ian lay bent over his knees with his forearms on the ground trying to regain his breath.  He didn’t dare look up, but he could make out at least six pairs of boots ringing around him and Dyrke, the leader of the Steel Spiders.

“I escorted him to the Enfor…” Ian tried to gasp, but a heavy booted kick to his left side crushed his bicep into his ribs.  The blow took the wind back out of him and rolled him over onto his back.

“He was the property of the Spiders Ian!  You had no right to escort him anywhere!”

The last sentence was emphasized by another kick, this time to his right side.

“Please!”

THWACK!

Somewhere in the shadows Ian heard the meaty thud of someone else taking a blow, followed quickly by the sound of a collapsing body.  Nobody else spoke up or moved to help Ian or his unseen advocate.

“Pick him up!”

Two sets of hands reached down and hauled him to his feet.  Once vertical they had to support him because his legs were barely responding to his efforts to stand.  He tried to lift his head to look Dyrke in the eyes.  By now the swelling on the right side of his face was making it difficult to see out of his right eye.

“I took you in!” another hammer blow, this time to his left cheek. 

“I gave you shelter!” another blow to the right.

“And this is the thanks I get!” a piston blow to his stomach.  Now all strength left him, but the powerful hands held him in place.

“Do you have any idea what you have done to the reputation of the Steel Spiders?!?”  This time his assailant gave him a two fisted backhand that landed hard enough to cause his restrainers to lose their grip and he collapsed to the floor once more.  By now blood was dribbling out of his mouth at a steady rate into a pool on the floor.

Ian tried to stand up on his own but collapsed in a heap twice more before he got his knees under him, but as he rallied the strength to push up the rest of the way another hammer blow drove him back down.  This time he just stayed down.

“Bring ‘em to the deck of the Bifrost.  We’re going to make examples of them.  Show the others what happens when you cross the Spiders.”

Two pairs of hands reached down once again and brought him to his feet.  He had no strength in his legs and so he was dragged more than carried up the several ladders and decks until they reached the deck of the bridge that connected this part of Hive City to the Under Hive.  It spanned a chasm a half a kilometer deep.

“What are we going to do with them Dyrke?”

Ian tried desperately to identify the voice of one of those he had called friends.

“We toss them over,” came the leader’s reply.

Ian tried desperately to rally his strength, but it was hopelessly inadequate.  His escort’s grip held firm.  What little vision he had through the swelling in his face he could see the abyss beyond the edge of the bridge and fear welled up in his throat.

“Can the Spiders come out and play?”

The procession to his doom stopped dead in their tracks.  Ian could hear a lot of shuffling feet, but could not identify the voice. 

“You’ve got no say in this Bounty Hunter!  Best to leave now lest you get taught a lesson you won’t soon forget.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.  I am not here for them Dyrke.  I’m here for Jakob.  I heard tale that you had him.  I want him.  You wouldn’t even have been on his trail if it weren’t for me!”

“You can’t have him.  It’s our bounty.  We went and got him, and I aim to be the one to bring him in.”

“I kind of thought you’d say somthin’ like that.”  The Bounty Hunter put two fingers in his mouth and brought forth a piercing whistle.  On cue a dozen Escher stepped out of the shadows.  “And I take issue with it.”

The vice grip that held Ian upright released their hold on him and he collapsed in a heap.  Looking up Boenerges was placing a long boxed cartridge into the belly of his heavy stubber and was fixated on the new threat.

Ian looked around and saw that Gelder had released his grip on Amber as well.  She stirred as she hit the deck, but slowly.  Continuing to take in the situation he noticed that the Spiders were taking cover to face off against the Black Cats and the unknown Bounty Hunter.  Dyrke was not currently interested in exacting his justice on Ian at the moment.  He knew that would not last and that he and Amber would only have a few moments to affect their escape.  Amber looked up and made eye contact with Ian.  It was clear she was as scared as he was.  With little effort Ian communicated that they needed to crawl back the way they had come.  

They pair had not gone far when the fire fight erupted between the Steel Spiders and the Bounty Hunter’s crew.  Without a word between them they both got up and ran as fast as they could back to the relative safety of the Chigger’s Bar.  Ian glanced back out on to the deck and could tell that Dyrke and the Spiders were making head way against their attackers.  Looking around the bar it was empty, the last few patrons fleeing out the front door to escape the combat outside.  Chigger waved them over.

“Take your old room Amber,” he glanced back at Ian.  “It’s my hide if Dyrke catches you two here.  Get up to that room and stay there until I give you the all clear.” 

“Come on Ian.  It’ll be OK.”  Amber gave Ian a reassuring tug on his right arm to pull him up the stairs behind the bar.  They stumbled to the last room on the right.  Once they were inside Amber slid the door shut and pushed it slightly forward.  “If this works right, it will look like just another panel in the wall outside.”

They could hear the staccato of the heavy stubber through the walls, but it was apparent that the battle was waning.  

The wounded pair collapsed on the unmade bed, exhausted.  Amber had a welt growing on her cheek, but Ian was in obvious pain and having to take shallow breaths in order to not agitate his probably broken ribs.  Amber tried to take stock of his wounds but he waved her off, and she was too tired and sore to protest.  They both drifted off to sleep.

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

Ian jolted awake to the sound of men and women screaming in the hall outside.  The effort to stand made him catch his breath and pain stabbed through rib cage, but he readied himself to defend himself and Amber.

“Over here you thick headed sump spider.”

Turning around Ian saw Amber had pivoted the dresser out to reveal a dark chamber beyond.  He hesitated a moment.

“Search all the rooms!” they both heard Boanerges bellow from the hallway. 

That was all the encouragement Ian needed and he ducked into the small doorway.  Amber quickly followed and pulled the dresser back into place with an attached cord.  Once the dresser pulled tight darkness washed over them.  They sat together in the darkness barely wanting to breathe lest they give themselves away.

A crash rumbled through the little door and they both instinctively shuffled back away from the door.  Ian’s eyes had not quite adjusted to the complete darkness and he found himself wishing he had his visor with him now.  It was then that he realized that neither he nor Amber had any of their kit.  He fought the urge to panic.

Chigger’s voice boomed through the wall and door, “I told you they weren’t here Cacee!  You didn’t have to go and bust down the door!

“It’s good for you that they aren’t Chigger,” came the familiar voice of the Spider Ian had once called friend.

Next followed a lot of shuffling of feet and whispers.  Ian tried to press his ear against the door to hear what was going on.  The shuffling lasted for a few minutes.  Much longer than he had thought it should, especially thinking that once they did not find what they were looking for they would just leave.  Finally the voices and the noises from the room beyond faded.  Ian moved to try and push the door but Amber grasped his arm.  Looking over she was shaking her head as if to say ‘not yet’.  Ian nodded in acknowledgement and there they stayed.  After fifteen minutes Amber pressed her shoulder against the door and it opened a few centimeters.  She waited to see if anything responded from the room beyond. When nothing happened she opened it the rest of the way slowly. 

From their hide the room looked turned upside down, and the once concealed door lay smashed and hanging from only one hinge.  Looking around once more before they stepped back into the room memories flooded both their minds.  Many a liaison between the two had been spent in this room after they had first met.  Back then Ian believed their trysts to be out of bounds, he a member of the Spiders and House Van Saar, and she a member of the Black Cats and of House Escher.

“I don’t think we are going to be able to stay here much longer,” Ian said out loud.

Amber nodded her head in silent agreement.  Ian moved to the smashed doorway to look down the now silent hallway that led back to the public room of the ‘Bifrost’.  It was filled with debris and broken furniture, but no people.  When Ian turned to signal that it was all clear Amber gasped.

“Look!” she said pointing to the bed.

Poking out from underneath the displaced mattress was the pommel of Amber’s sword.  Ian helped her lift the mattress the rest of the way off.  Underneath they found Ian’s tinkering and medical kit bag and Amber’s sword.  Ian opened up his kit satchel to see what was in there.  All of his basic tools that he had used on his workbench along with his basic medical supplies. Right on top of it all was a small bag with a few  guilders and his visor.

“It’s not much, but better than nothing.”

Amber agreed. “Look, a note” she pointed to piece of paper sticking out from an interior pocket.

Ian, you saved my life once.  Dyrke is on the warpath for your hide and for anyone who helps you.  He’s taking us out towards the sump.  I highly recommend you make a break for it once we leave.  It will be best for everyone.  This makes us even.  ~ Cacee

Ian just stared at the slip of paper for several long moments.  Cacee had been instrumental in bringing him into the Steel Spiders.  How long had that been?  Flashbacks of the battles and off duty times in the Bifrost ran through his mind.

A gentle hand from Amber on his arm brought Ian back to the here and now.

“Come on, we need to put some distance between ourselves and Dyrke, the further, the better.”

Ian nodded his head and shouldered his kit bag.  Peering down the hallway from the edge of the doorway Ian tried to see down the stairs to see if any of the Spiders were in the common room.  He couldn’t tell, so the pair crept down the hallway sticking close the wall.  When they reached the top of the stairs they stopped to listen for a few more minutes.  Only the regular clanking of stoneware and hum of indistinct chatter between patrons met their ears.  With a silent glance between each other they started down the stairs and tried to look like any other couple returning from a tryst in the upper rooms.  When they reached the bottom of the stairs the two hesitated long enough to look around the room.  No spiders in sight. 

“Psst!  Ian”

The startled pair jumped where they stood.  Ian spun around while Amber took a step slightly in front of Ian and readied her sword.

“Easy! Easy!”

From behind a small stage where acts came to entertain the patrons Chigger was waving them to follow him.

“Dyrke has taken the spiders out onto the bridge span.  You won’t get far if you head out the front doors.  Follow me.”

Behind the stage Chigger led them into an old utility room.  In the floor was a metal trap door with a thick chain and padlock holding it in place.

“This leads to an old cable conduit that runs the span of the bridge to the far side of the Enforcer precinct.  It’s how I get some of my goods past the tolls imposed by the Guilders.  Not all of it, just the more lucrative items," he said with a grin.

“Thanks Chigger.  We can’t repay you for this.”

“It’s alright kid.  Maybe if it is ever safe enough for you to come back this way we can settle up.”

Ian nodded his thanks and looked down at the door.

“Before you go though, I want you to have this.”

Ian looked back up at the bartender.  In the man’s hands was a slightly battered single barrel semi-automatic shotgun.  This was a typical Van Saar model with a seamless hand grip and receiver that could be fed with either a small drum magazine, currently missing, or single rounds could be fed into a line feed below the barrel.  The stock was folded up and over resting neatly on top of the receiver while still allowing the smooth discharge of spent shells from the chamber.

“The mag is full Ian.  Sorry I don’t have any extra shells to hand you.  Had to… well… leave the front in a hurry.  Half a click out the other side you will run into a small Holestead.  A prospector named Goreman.  Tell him Chigger sent you and he will be able to point you in a safe direction.”

Reaching down he punched in five numbers into the keypad on the lock and it clicked open.  He gently pulled the chain through the handrail and then opened the door.

“Now, get!”

Ian grabbed Chigger’s forearm and thanked him silently.  Amber dropped down the dark hole and reached up to grab the shotgun to help Ian through as he winced from the pain in his ribs as he lowered himself down.  Chigger wasted no time.  As soon as Ian’s head cleared the hatch the door shut over them and they were swallowed up in darkness once again.  Only a few of the old maintenance lights were still functional, but it was enough for them to find their way.

Amber and Ian glanced at each other.

"Let me take a look at that," Ian said reaching into his bag.  Pulling out a noxious smelling ointment he rubbed it on Amber's swollen cheek.  He then had her do the same to the welts on his face.  It burned slightly and penetrated deeply.  Once that was done she applied the ointment to the massive bruise now encompassing his ribcage and wrapped them up with the few strips of cloth they had.  Once that was done he put away the remaining supplies.

“Well, come on… no time like the present.” Ian said. With that the pair headed off to their new life.

[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.

Background piece - redeux

Due to changes in the Nomad-like character (for the complete story click HERE) i have adjusted the story so i am reposting it...

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

The common room was busier than normal at the Sludge Spill Inn tonight, especially considering the ash storm outside had been raging for the better part of three days. Rumors had been running rampant around Hive’s End about an impending PDF sweep. Old Vira had said she heard mention at the Nomad bazaar of one of old Helmawr’s shuttles being shot down out in the wastes and the old Lord was out to inflict some retribution on the ‘illegal’s’ who choose not to seek his protection within the Hives.

Shanty towns like Hive’s End are easy targets for Helmawr’s goons. It did not matter that all they wanted to do was etch out a living from the industrial wastes and that it was unlikely that such a town could produce much more than a heavy stubber or two, let alone something with as long a reach as a las cannon or missile launcher. Such toys were more likely found among the Imperial Fists Space Marines or one of the Nomad bands that make their living moving between the hives and out in the wastes.

“Old Vira has the locals stirred up pretty good,” the inn keeper said to himself. “I’ll have to remind myself to give her a round on the house later.” The man stood behind the bar with one of his heavily booted feet on a box under the bar, looking out over the bar room he liked what he saw. No less than a dozen customers sat around the room.

Most of the population around town was leery of the young bar keep, but he did not let that bother him. Unlike most of the denizens of Necromunda’s Ash Wastes he was not native to this inhospitable place.

Before the Enforcers had come calling he and his mates had created quite a little fiefdom in the Underhive of Hive Primus, and although he had not been the leader of the ‘Iron Skulls’, he had been a trusted and proven lieutenant. There had been many a time he had out drawn his opponents to get his shots off, blazing away with his twin semi-automatics. That was before the heavy hand of Lord Helmawr and his police force, the Enforcers, had declared him and his gang outlaws. He was the last of the Skulls now, and that was only because he had braved the wastes. As formidable as the reach of the Enforcers is, even they thought twice before venturing outside the protective walls of the hive. Once he had made it to Hive’s End he found that his skills with his pistols could be useful, and after the last raid by some Nomads had killed the previous owner of the Inn, Ramic was quicker still to move in and stake his claim. No one had challenged him. Not until today that is.

“We need to get Cootus and round up those good for nothing punks from ’round town an organize!”

“You’re crazy!” a second man shouted over the first. “You can’t fight the PDF. Y’all be kilt!”

“Who said anything about getting killed!?” Ramic shouted over the first two.


The overlapping murmur of conversations took a noticeable dip as several people turned to look at the Inn Keeper. Ramic deftly swung his 1.8 meter, 72 kilogram frame up and over the bar and landed with both feet firmly planted on the plasteel sheet floor.

Ramic did not like where this was heading. He had already gone toe to toe with Helmawr’s forces and he felt fortunate to still be alive to tell about it, but he was not about to allow these sickly shanty scum to incite baseless paranoia in his place, especially since it would most likely lead to damaged property and goods – his goods.

“Korval, best to keep such talk to yourself.” Ramic said as he turned his head from man to man in the room. The black bandanna on his head accented the crew cut hair and square jaw of the former Orlock ganger. To make sure he made his point Ramic pulled his respirator down so it hung around his neck, thus no longer distorting his words.

“If you want to drive everyone into a panic you can just mosey on down to the Vira’s Acid Bath House.”

“What t’chu ginna do ‘bout it Rammey?”

The room went quiet. Ramic shifted his weight, placing both feet shoulder width apart, then moving his hands slowly to his hips as he spread his vest apart to reveal his the pair stubbers within a set of quick draw holstered and worn high on his hips to allow quicker access.

“I will do what I have to Korval. Best to keep your hands right there on the table where I can see ‘em too.”

Korval seemed to weigh the inn keeper’s words carefully and stood as if to leave. As he turned to his right he slowly drew his hand up to his own holster. When his hand made contact with the pistol grip he snapped it out and spun to draw down on Ramic, but before Korval could complete his maneuver Ramic had cleared both of his pistols from the holsters and had snapped off three shots from each. All six shots impacted their target and Korval fell backwards, upended the table he had been sitting at on the way to the floor.

Ramic kept both pistols drawn at waist level as his eyes scanned the room for anyone else who might feel lucky. All eyes were on him when a sudden gush of wind brought in a fresh cloud of ash and debris through the front door from the wastes beyond. A few of the people within the Inn were caught by surprise and began coughing profusely. The end result was that everyone was now looking at the three new strangers who had just walked in. It was not the appearance of potential customers that confused the people already there, it was the fact that these wayfarers had ventured out in the midst of a pretty good ash storm.

The industrial wastelands of Necromunda were not to be traveled lightly in what might locally could be considered ‘good’ weather, but to move about in the middle of one the sudden storms that often spring up – usually lasting for several days – was to invite death to your door. It did not matter if you were going several kilometers, or across town. The chemical clouds and resins that make up the Ash Wastes were known to strip a man down to the bone if he were not properly protected, let alone being exposed for a prolonged journey. It was nearly impossible to predict what kinds of hazards were stirred up when Necromunda got her dander up, best to stay indoors, keep your head down and your respirator handy. But the three strangers that now showed up on Ramic’s doorstep had obviously come from some where outside the walls of the little Shanty town of Hive’s End, because he knew everyone in the small shanty town, and he had not seen these people before.

The man in front wore a heavy ankle length duster that flowed smoothly despite being made of a heavy fabric. His head was completely covered by a deep hood that was attached to the duster. His eyes were covered by a visor with a narrow single lens that went from temple to temple. His nose, mouth, and neck were covered by a single yellow scarf. Wrapped around his torso, underneath the jacket, was a royal blue tunic that draped to the length of the coat. Across his chest, underneath his left arm was a leather shoulder holster that held an as yet unidentified weapon, which matched another similar holster on his left hip. The grip of the weapon on his hip was pointed to the rear and was underneath the duster. Across the waist was a wide leather belt with an emerald colored gem buckle. On his right hip, slung slight low, hung a tubular pouch that contained something within. The boots he wore were also made of leather and came to just above his knees. Across his back was an ornate sword with a long grip. Over top of this he carried a small haversack that was full, and on the left side was strapped a long rifle wrapped in cloth similar to that of the duster. Those who have spent any amount of time outside the massive hives of Necromunda would recognize him as a Nomad Scout.

The second one through the door was adorned in a pair of heavy combat trousers that had apparently been salvaged as there were several holes revealing another layer of heavy fabric underneath in order to protect the wearer from the hostile elements. Upon the feet was a pair of mismatched combat boots. The head was wrapped in a similar fabric to what was underneath the pants, surrounding a pair of goggles and a dual filter respirator that covered the face. Atop the head was a Planetary Defense Cap. The torso was adorned in a waste length jacket with a heavy zipper up the front. It had a set of pockets on the arms as well as on the chest, which revealed that the wearer to be that of a woman. Upon her back was a pack similar to that of the nomad, and a shotgun with an improvised harness was slung from her right shoulder. The bandoleer of ammunition across her other shoulder and chest, along with the hodgepodge of clothing showed her to be a resident of some, as of yet unfamiliar, Shanty Town.

The last one to enter Ramic’s humble little Inn was not all that impressive to look at. He stood around one and three quarter meters tall, and he was not particularly big to look at either. The boots looked familiar but he could not place them. The heavy pants were similar to that of the woman’s, but above the waist he wore a threadbare shirt that was barely covering some kind of bodysuit. He was unarmed except for the heavy staff in his right hand. It was made of some kind of organic material that was interlaced with grains of metal – like the two materials had somehow grown and matured together. What was disconcerting was that he did not appear to be wearing any sort of respirator or eye protection, but this was not what gave Ramic pause. It was the sound of something he had not heard since he felt compelled to leave the hive. It was the sound that many a person who had gone against the rule of Lord Helmawr came to dread. From among the strangers wove a mechanical construct known as a Cyber Mastiff. He could not believe that he was seeing such a thing out in the wastes, and wondered why it was on his doorstep now, that was when he remembered where he had seen this man’s boots before – the Enforcers.

Slowly eyes moved between the three strangers and Ramic. No one was quite sure what to expect.

“Greetings friends. What may I get you?” Ramic offered without putting his pistols away just yet.

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

Notes:
The Inn keeper is (Ramic) and is the 3rd supporting character
Nomad is known as Luinon
The woman is known as Yeve
The last man is our ‘Hero’ Jakob

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

I am also almost done with another prelude piece that continues the story of Ian and his gang the Steel Spiders...

A Second Chance

Somewhere in the fog between being awake and asleep Ian could hear someone calling his name. He just couldn’t figure out if it was a dream or not. The fatigue could be felt throughout his entire being and he desperately wanted to slip deeper into unconsciousness.

“Ian! Come on… get up! Dyrke wants to see us right now! Ian!”

Ian rolled over onto his back and then struggled to an upright position. When he opened his eyes he found it difficult to focus on the shadowy form at the foot of his bed. He put a hand down to steady himself as he rubbed his eyes in an effort to clear them up.

“Are you coming?”

Ian nodded and looked down to the other side of the bed. He started to reach out to wake Amber.

“Just you,” the figure said, now in a whisper.

Ian nodded again and then slipped his feet over the side of the bed. When his feet hit the cold plascrete floor it sent a jolt through his system that kick started the adrenaline. His mind was still a little foggy, but now his blood was flowing.

The Steel Spider’s medical bay was still dark. Ian guessed that it was about halfway through lights-out, the orchestrated sequence of lights to give Necromundan’s a sense of day and night. Fortunately he kept his Infra-goggles on the small table by the bed. It seemed like a waste to use precious battery power on something as frivolous as looking around his own room in the dark, but he would rather waste the batteries than wake Amber up.

As the goggles systems warmed up Ian looked around the bay. The six tables were all empty as the Spider’s were enjoying a peaceful season beneath the Bifrost. The workbench along the back of the room was undisturbed, and the half dozen partially finished projects littered it from one end to the other. He loved to tinker with gadgets but once Dyrke had found out that he was as good with humans as he was with gizmos, most of his time was spent fixing up the other Spiders. Still, he often found time to roam around the market place on the bridge span above. Always on the look out for that one piece he could use to complete his little projects. Right by the door, hanging on improvised pegs in the wall, hung Ian and Amber’s kit. Ian’s snatched up his woefully under equipped medic bag and lasgun and then took one last look over his shoulder. Amber sighed in her sleep and rolled over. Ian smiled to himself and headed straight for the gang’s briefing room. He was lucky. Most gangers rarely get to share a life with another.

Ian was the last to arrive. Sitting around the room were Renny, and Rogers.

“About time!” Rogers said as he walked in.

Ian knew from when he first joined the Spiders. He was a good guy to know. He was the quiet type around the bunk house, but was ferocious in combat. He was an oddity among the Van Saar because he favored close combat and carried a Bolt Pistol and a Power Sword. Renny had recently been elevated to a full fledged member of the gang and fancied himself as a gun slinger, carrying a las pistol on each hip. He was also good at ringing out a few extra credits on his rounds.

“What’s all this about Rog?” Ian asked as he sat down.

Before Rogers could answer, Dyrke walked in with a man in lockstep right behind him.

“What this is ‘all about’ is you doing as your told Ian,” Dyrke locked eyes with Ian as he strolled into the center of the room. It was more to make sure he had the group’s attention than anything else. Once he was satisfied that he had achieved just that he continued.

“This here is Gelder,” he said motioning toward the stranger with a wave of his arm. “I hired him from the Union Houses on my last trip uphive to report to the elders. He will be working with Boanerges in the shop.” Ian looked the man over, he carried a Plasma gun in a ‘Y’ sling across his shoulders, and a Bolt Pistol on his hip.

“While I was there I was given an assignment by Elder Korvan.” Ian had no idea who that was and looked around to see if there was an semblance of recognition from the others. “It would seem his son has decided he wanted a little adventure downhive here, and while he was sowing his oats, got himself captured by House Cawdor. This was confirmed by a ransom demand while I was there. It would seem that Elder Korvan would rather not pay this ransom, and would prefer to not publicaly engage in his son’s release. He has given us the privilege of accomplishing this task for him.”

Dyrke began to walk back and forth between the assembled gangers.

“That is why I’ve woken you all up in the middle of the night,” he said making eye contact with Ian once more. “I have placed Cacee in charge while we are away, and he is the only one who is to know where, and why. Any questions?”

Ian watched his leader for any hint of how long they were going to be gone, but he gave nothing away.

Dyrke looked around the room and saw that no one was willing to ask anything more. “Alright, we’re leaving right now.”

-=-=-=o=-=-=-

During their trip downhive Dyrke had filled the rest of his quintet in on their mission. Apparently the Elder’s son, Solby, had some kind of “spiritual revelation” and was on some kind of personal spiritual journey, for whatever reason that had led him to the underhive. It was not clear how, or why, he was now in the hands of the Cawdor, but they apparently were not pleased that he was passing through their territory.

What was known was that a Cawdor gang known as “The Harbingers” were now holding the Elder’s son, and that they had holed up after their last fight. Not just anywhere though. They had staked a claim in a recently discovered dome. Ian could not help but feel some sense of irony. It was the same dome he had implored Dyrke to strike out for not a fortnight ago.

-=-=-=o=-=-=-

The “Steel Spider’s” quietly approached the entrance to the Cawdor’s territory, a reinforced plas-steel door that served as a choke point. It was located smack dab in the middle of what had used to be an old industrial shipping hub. Old servo-lifts, and dismantled cargo carriers littered the landscape. Dyrke call his team close.

“There’s only one sentry, but the door looks to be locked tight. We’re going to have to blow it open. That’s your job Gelder,” Dyrke said. The new comer just nodded his acknowledgement. “Ian, you’re his cover man. Rogers, Renny, and I will move through to take out the sentry and secure the area. Once the door is blown we collapse on the doorway and move in to get this kid back. Any questions?”

Ian was not happy having to babysit the new guy, especially because he was so green. He had no idea what to expect of him, or how he would react once the shots began flying. As they came within sight of their goal the men broke up into their two groups.

As they approached Gelder wanted to stay on ground level but Ian shook his head sternly and pointed up to an overhanging gantry. It would provide a clear shot at the doorway, the sentry, and block of what appeared to be empty habs. Ian thought the latter looked as good as any for the Cawdor’s barracks.

Ian practically had to restrain the man. While Ian was trying to be cautious and ensure a clear shot, Gelder was anxious to get his shot on the door. Ian could hear the plasma chambers heating the stored plasma cells. The scent of charged ions was unmistakable. As Ian glanced over to try and point his partner to a better firing position the distinctive hiss of a plasma gun discharge filled the air.

“Crap!” Ian thought to himself and immediately sighted back on the sentry. The hooded man’s image leapt into view of his Infrared sight. One of his little gizmo’s created back on his work bench back under the Bifrost. Before Ian could squeeze of a shot with his las gun the sentry was banging a set of metal bars together. The alarm was raised and they were about to have some company.

“Zzzaaap!”

The las bolt knocked one of the metal pipes out of the Cawdor’s hands causing him to flinch and duck for cover. “Calm down Ian,” he said to himself. “Breath,” Ian said counting to three to himself.

“Zzzaap!”

“Son of a…,” Ian cursed himself out loud as his second shot sailed wide. It wasn’t even close. “You gonna take out that door Gelder? Or am I going to have to do it with this lasgun!

As Ian went to take another shot he saw the red led indicator blinking on the charging chamber.

“Piece of junk!” Ian cursed to no one in particular as he cycled the charging handle. “Gonna have to look at those connectors again.”

The smell of super heated plasma and the hiss of Gelder’s plasma gun filled the air again. “Take that!” Ian heard the heavy say.

Suddenly the area around the two men was peppered with incoming shots as the Cawdor responded to the attack in force. Gelder groaned as he was hit. Ian couldn’t tell how bad it was, but when the heavy collapsed to the floor he went right on over the ledge. Ian looked on in horror as the man fell three levels and landed with a solid thud.

“That’s not good,” Ian thought to himself.

There wasn’t time to worry about it. Several more shots began landing in and around him. To get more cover Ian went prone and began searching for targets. BY this time Dyrke and the others were among the closest of the new arrivals. But then he spots a juicy target.

Towards the back of the pack is man draped in deep blue robes and a full face hooded mask. If there had been flames or some other telling mark, Ian could have sworn it was a Redemptor. “Come to papa,” he thought to himself, and squeezed off another shot from his las gun. This one struck home and he saw the Cawdor leader drop to a knee grabbing his shoulder.

“Ping, ping, ping!”

“That was close.” Ian flinched as several large caliber rounds hit the railing to his left, chips of paint a metal flayed across his arm. It took a second but Ian found the source of his troubles, a bounty hunter. But before Ian could return fire the Cawdor were falling back to regroup.

“Come on! I’ve got the door open and we’re getting out of here!”

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.”

Hivequake

They should have seen it coming. A month back it had rained for six days straight. Not just a light drizzle from a factory flushing its storage tanks somewhere above, No this was a torrential downpour.

The effluent rain drenched everything, and everyone, as it cascaded down from the Hive City factories somewhere above, and continued on to the depths below the Bifrost. In its wake slime coated everything, even things not directly in its path. The simple accumulation of condensation from the increased humidity made sure of that. There was more.

For the past three days reports from the habs just below the Bifrost showed an increase in Ripper Jacks, giant rats, and even a few large spiders moving into the area. When Chigger started to blast away with his shotgun at a scurrying rodent, right in the middle of ‘Happy Hour’, Ian new something wasn’t right. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. Then, six hours ago, the streets had gotten eerily quiet. There was no movement other than the occasional human. That was until three minutes ago.

For the past three minutes the entire hive felt like it was going to collapse right on top of their heads. The Bifrost swayed violently, and the crash of dishes and bottles of Wildsnake in the drinking hall could be heard all the way down into the “Steel Spider’s” lair.

Ian managed to get himself up on his hands and knees, and not knowing what else to do he quickly crawled underneath his long workbench along the back wall of his sickbay/hab-room, if for no other reason than to have something over his head that would protect him from all the dust falling from the ceiling. Amber was already there, her eyes open wide.

When the hive finally decided to stop shaking the two lovers crawled out from under their shelter to asses the damage. Tables had overturned, a few medical supplies had been spilled, but for the most part their little corner of the hive was intact.

“Is everyone OK?” Dyrke called from down the hall.

Ian could hear a few acknowledgements coming from the other “Spiders”, to which he added his own. Looking around the room, it was a mess, but there was no permanent damage.

“What the hell happened,” Ian said out loud.

Amber stared at him for a moment before replying. “Haven’t you ever experienced a hive quake before?”

“No,” Ian said as he picked up an overturned table. “How often does that happen?”

Amber thought about her reply as she continued to pick up the debris. “Often enough that you should know what it is.”

The rest of the time the two cleaned up in silence.

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

Within the darkness it felt the rumbling and sensed the import of the omen. Slowly it began to move. It had to know for sure. For over a century its mind dealt with the never ending torment. Now there was a chance that it would be able to feed once again.

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

Gorit stood back up and shook the dust off of his muscle bound body. His Goliath gang, the ‘Iron Mandibles’, had been down kicking in some heads at their mine when the hive quake had struck. When Scar told him to sit tight he had complained, after all he could do with a little recreation too. But now he couldn’t see where the entrance to mine used to be. As he reached out to start digging a large hole off to his right caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

“Funny, I thought that shaft was over this way,” Gorit thought to himself.

As Gorit entered into the tunnel a cool breeze met his face. It was almost as if the hive itself was letting out a deep breath after holding it in for too long. The air was stale and constant, with a slight haze of dust.

Working his way deeper into the tunnel he realized that this was not the mine shaft he was looking for, rather it was an old rail line tunnel. Although the tunnel was pinched and partially collapsed in many places, there was ample room to maneuver.

After working his way over, under, around, and through the maze for over an hour it finally opened up into a huge dome. There was enough light from far off sources that Gorit could tell – this was the find of his life!

He returned to the entrance as fast as he could and without continuing the search for his missing companions, Gorit made a bee-line for the nearest settlement that was not a Goliath stronghold. He wanted to keep the profits of his new claim to himself.

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

It reminded itself to be patient. The flesh thing had gotten away before it could claim its prize. But it had waited for so long, and the stench of the thing filled its nostrils. Its patience was not strong.

The omen was true. The way was open. It would gather the others. Once they were all together, then they could move on and feed once more.

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

The group of Guilders had met in a hurry, so certain protocols had been bypassed. If the news was true an important opportunity presented itself. This was one of those once-in-a-lifetime deals, and none of these men wanted to miss out on it.

“This is truly an important discovery,” said the largest of the five. “We must move on this information now!” The others quickly nodded their agreement. “The problem is always in the details. How do we get our respective feet in the door? Before these parasites infest everything that is.”

The men quieted down as they each ran through various scenarios in their minds. A few times one of the men would look up, the others would look towards him, and then he would go back to his own thoughts without saying a word. This went on for several minutes. Finally the first man spoke up.

“I think I have an idea. We shall each ‘leak’ tidbits of this information, and also encourage our various contacts to move on it. Allow them to through their resources into the breach, so to speak, and then as they have subdued the area we can move in and set up our respective shops. For a cut of the profits of course.”

“Of course,” several of the others agreed. “But what of this ‘Gorit’? a small Guilder from the back asked, causing the other four to look around and down at him.

“That’s simple,” the first Guilder responded. “We will send him back first, in order to stake his claim we’ll tell him – maybe even hire a few scum as ‘bodyguards’ for protection.” The others chuckled at that last statement. “Who knows, maybe that little problem will take care of itself. If not, we will make… further adjustments down the road.”

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

The scent of the living filled its nostrils once more. It was true. After waiting for so long, it would finally be able to satisfy the ravenous hunger that had filled it every moment for over a century.

Welcoming

Ian actually did a double take. From behind he didn’t recognize the woman sitting at the end of the bar, but Chigger was chatting up a storm with her and refilled her drink without hesitation.

Looking around the Bifrost Ian was a little troubled. Amber had arranged to meet him here after he had performed his tasks for Dyrke, the leader of the Steel Spiders, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. There was something about the woman’s hair though…

Chigger made eye contact with him and smiled, then waved for him to come over. Ian nodded and started over to the bar. There was something strangely familiar about the woman, he just couldn’t place it. When Ian got within three meters the woman spun around.

“I was beginning to wonder when you would show up,” Amber said smiling back at him.

Ian had been so distracted by his curiosity he had failed to notice the other tell-tale signs of who he was looking at. The sword slung across her back, the auto pistol strapped to her thigh, and not to mention the red hair pulled neatly back into ponytail.

“I, uh… I had to finish up… have you been waiting long?” Ian’s face flushed red.

Amber’s newly issued body glove was as form fitting as ever. Ian liked it much better than her old Escher rags.

For the next hour Ian and Amber just sat and talked. Even with the crowded common area, the Bifrost offered more privacy than the halls of the Spiders lair that lay beneath the bridge town. Even the room set aside for the Spiders within the drinking hall was no guarantee of seclusion. Here at least they could talk without the pretense of being alone, besides, Chigger assured them that their room would be available in just a couple of hours, so in the meantime the two of them just sat and enjoyed each others company.

Just as Chigger handed over the keys to the room to Ian, Dyrke spotted them.

“Amber, Ian, I have a couple of pairs of boots coming to see about joining the Spiders. I need the two of you to watch the room and make sure we are not disturbed.”

Dyrke didn’t even wait for a response from his subordinates; he just nodded to Chigger, asked for his usual, and stepped into Spider’s room. Amber looked at Ian, but what could they do? Their leader gave them a job to do and they were bound to do it.

Over the next two hours Ian and Amber stood outside the door while several men of various sizes and kit came and went. None of the visitors were allowed entrance unless they presented a small token that was stamped with an impression of a spider with an anvil symbol on its back. The whole time all Ian could think of was that what little time they had was slipping away.

Finally Dyrke emerged with two men in step behind him. One man carried a plain looking lasgun over one shoulder. His body glove was worn, and his hair disheveled, but the weapon was well kept. The other man had a much neater appearence. In a cross draw holster on the left side of his chest was a bolt pistol, and in his hands he supported a Plasma Rifle

“Spider’s,” Dyrke said as he addressed the two guards, “I want to introduce two new members to the fold. Xander,” Dyrke indicated with a nod to the first man,” comes from another team who recently… folded. Kordite here,” indicated with a motion of his thumb” comes down from Hive City. He’s going to be helping Boanerges in the shop. Ian, make sure he gets to where he needs to go. Amber, you take Xander and introduce him to Katan, he’ll take it from there.”

“Yes sir,” the two said in unison. Ian’s stomach sank. His carefully made plans to get alone with Amber would have to wait for another time.

A Tool of the Trade

Shooting had just seemed to come naturally to Ian. His mind automatically computed the range and speed to the target without a conscious thought. But this target eluded him.

Ian ignored the Infrared gun sight mounted atop of his lasgun. Although he took great pride in his creating that particular piece of tech, it was useless in this situation. Peering across the weapons own mounted sights he lined up and, taking a moment to control his breathing, he completed the pull of the trigger.

A slight crack sounded the sudden increase of temperature along the path of the ionized particles as the discharge of the weapon zipped on its way to the target. One that Ian had selected both for its distance and size.

The sudden explosion of a small, empty mind you, bottle of wildsnake announced Ian’s success in hitting his target. Adjusting slightly to his left he brought his weapon to bear on another bottle even further along. The results were the same, as they had been all morning.

“I don’t get it,” he said to himself. “I know that in the heat of battle little things can move one’s aim, and a little change here, is a big change out there. Allowing for even a fifty percent miss rate I should have had more success in taking down my targets lately.”

Ian shook his head. This puzzle was messing with his head. Ian liked to tell people that he was not a perfectionist, but he also liked to gauge his results. The truth was he did not like to fail, at all.

Walking back towards the Steel Spider’s lair Ian fiddled with the sides of his lasgun. He knew every inch of that weapon inside and out. In his ever ending search for knowledge of tech and gadgets Ian had disassembled and reassembled this particular lasgun well over a hundred times. It was a standard construct pattern that House Van Saar produced in the millions for Lord Helmawr and the Imperium. The weapon performed flawlessly. He had never experienced one issue with the functionality, and he was always sure he charged the powercell whenever he had more then a half hour to himself. And yet he was not getting the job done when it came to keeping watch over the rest of the Spiders in his role as sniper.

“It needs more power, that’s what it needs,” Ian thought to himself. “But how to do it?”

As Ian walked through the halls of his gang’s home it was mostly deserted. Boanerges had managed to find a video feed of a Hive City slaughter ball game and was crashed out on a couch in front of it. Even the medical bay was empty.

When he got to his workbench he moved several half completed projects to the back of the bench and set his rifle down. Before picking up any tools Ian disassembled the weapon in his mind trying to figure the best way to go about it. He was no weapon smith, but he loved to tinker with the tech. If Boanerges knew how much he messed with his lasgun he would probably receive an ‘education’ from the team’s heavy.

The optics? No, they were too easily ruined. Even a scratch would render them useless.

That left the power supply. Ian ran through the mental picture of the power system of his lasgun. The wiring and circuit boards should be able to handle the additional charge, probably the optics too. Dropping the power supply out of the magazine well he turned it over in his hands. It was completely sealed. If he broke it open Boanerges would know the next time he turned it over to him for servicing. Not a good idea.

Ian continued to stare down at the lasgun. What were those things called? Hotshot power cells are what they are called. What could Bo say? Those cells were made for las weapons. “Nothing to do but to do it,” he told himself and with that he headed out to the trading post.

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

They were all the same. How could they not be? The Imperium provided the template to the factories of Necromunda and they churned them out by the millions. Ok, some had longer shoulder stocks, some had folding stocks, a few had a forward charging handle to grip, but none of them had what Ian was looking for. It was the results that Ian was looking for, not cosmetic differences.

In the end Ian learned that there were ‘juiced’ up power cells available for the lasgun and the las pistols, but he could not get s single vendor to even show him one.

“If you are looking for a little more stopping power, maybe you would be more interested in this?” a Guilder finally said.

The man held up a fine looking Bolt Gun. Manufactured by House Delaque by the look of it, smooth and crisp line, simple but effective design, and the gun metal had been made to diminish reflected light.

“The shells are easily obtainable,” the guilder injected quickly seeing the whirling thoughts pass across Ian’s face. “This weapon is the weapon of choice of our Emperor’s finest. Plenty of stopping power for any enemy you might meet.”

Ian turned the bolt gun over in his hands. It was slightly heavier, and a whole lot more bulky, than his lasgun. But that is not what bothered him. The weapon was wholly mechanical. There were no integrated circuits, no real tech to speak of. It was a simple mechanical tool. Once the weapon was discharged it used the gases generated from the explosive charge to force the bolt mechanism back when it would then load the next shot as it returned back forward. It felt… beneath him if that was an accurate word.

Not that such a fine weapon did not have its uses; it was just that the Van Saar were masters of producing quality and high technology. Simple mechanics were best left to the less sophisticated.

In the end Ian opted to just pick up a few pieces for his various projects. He even picked up a lasgun power cell to see if might be able to play around with the power discharge.

Payback

“Hold still or this is really going to hurt!”

The sound of the drill and the smell of smoldering flesh and bone filled the Steel Spider’s small medical bay. Ian stood at the head of the table and leaned forward pressing down with no small amount of weight upon a drill. Underneath him, his head locked firmly in a makeshift halo harness, lay Hargrave doing his best to kick and squirm. Fortunately Boanerges and Dyrke lay across the patient’s torso and legs respectively. Nothing could silence the man’s screams as the pain pierced what little pain killer Ian had used.

Without stopping Ian glanced quickly at Dyrke and said, “I still don’t think this is a good idea. I’m not a doctor.”

“So you have said”, Dyrke grunted his reply, “but you are all I’ve got. Besides all you need to do is tap the temporal lobe and insert the chip.”

Ian just shook his head as he continued to concentrate. “That is easy for him to say. One slip of this drill and Hargrave here won’t be much good for anything other than rat bait”, he said to himself.

“Ok, hand me the chip.”

Amber stepped up from behind him. As she handed Ian the lobo-chip she winced. It is one thing to see someone get plastered on the battle field, another thing entirely to just hack into someone’s head on a table.

“Keep him still… Ok, here goes nothing.” Ian slid the metallic stud into the small hole in the man’s temple. Once that was in place he took a small tool from a side table and used it to flip two minute switches in the circuit board cap. Silently three probes protruded from the far end and secured themselves into unknown regions of the patient’s brain and then pulled itself gently down into place.

A little blood continued to seep from the edges where the flesh had been cut into, but Hargrave seemed to settle down. Bo and Dyrke relaxed their grip and eyed the man warily. With only a slight shrug of his shoulders to encourage them to release him completely Hargrave slowly sat upright. Instinctively he reached up to touch the foreign device now implanted permanently in his head.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. That is still an open wound and you will infect it.” Ian said as he gently grabbed Hargrave’s wrist. “It should heal up nicely though.

“You sure this is going to work doc?” Hargrave asked Ian as he eyed the medic.

“Well, it should help you keep your head clear if that is what you meant.”

Looking back up Hargrave said, “I thought you were going to put that drill all the way in there for a minute.” He glanced over Ian’s shoulder at Amber as he finished the last part of the sentence.

“She can take care of herself, besides. I trust her,” Ian replied looking back at her.

“Now then, since that little issue is cleared up how about we get a move on.” Dyrke stepped up and looked Hargrave up and down. “Is he well enough to travel?”

“He should get some rest.” Ian replied. “Give the wound time to heal.”

“There may not be enough time. ‘Panthera’ here has given me an idea. We are going to seize the initiative against the Black Cats starting tonight.”

Ian looked back at Amber. She was grinning from ear to ear.

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

“There’s nothing to be afraid of”, Amber said to Ian. “I lived with them and they are proud and stubborn. They will be there.”

“Yea, but they known you know. And now that you have defected they are bound to change their routine”, Ian replied.

“You don’t get it do you. Not only is Fushia a stubborn woman, but she has little regard for men. She had this meeting set up several days ago and she is not about to be ‘pushed away’ by men, let alone some snot-nosed-juve. Besides, I think she really believes that I would never betray her and the Cats like this, me being a woman and all.”

Ian contemplated Amber’s last statement. The Escher are an anomaly to him. Sure his mother had shown him that women had strength while she raised him, but women just did not enjoy much prominence within House Van Saar. And yet since joining the Steel Spiders, and coming to live at the Bifrost, Ian had learned to respect the skills of the women of house Escher.

“What about your friend Jade? Will you be able to face her if it should come to that?” Ian asked?

Amber hesitated. “I don’t know.”

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

Part 2

Ian did not like being alone. And that is exactly how he found himself now and that during the lull just before a battle.

When one grows up in hive city you are constantly surrounded by teems of people. Now Ian found himself in an odd combination of roles. On the one hand he was his gang’s sole medic, on the other he was one of the snipers.

As the latter the others seemed to remain distant, like he was some kind of specter or assassin. It was if they treated him as a man without honor, someone who feared to face his opponent face to face.

As the former the others, especially Dyrke, did not want to be seen as weak. To be seen by the ‘Doc’ was an admission of weakness. And to admit that you were weak was to invite attack.

So that was how Ian now found himself alone as he entered Kronly’s hole, an old slag pit now run by a group of Eschers known as the Black Cats. The very same gang that Ian faced off against in the market place back at the Bifrost a few weeks back. The same gang that Amber had been a part of to spy on House Escher for House Van Saar.

Another draw back of being out on the wing like this was not knowing Dyrke’s full battle plan. Ian had been told what was needed of him and where to go if the gang should need to break and run, but he had not been privy to where anyone else was going or what they would be doing. “Nothing to do, but to do it”, he said to himself and set about his task.

Ian darted across a litter strewn alleyway. Once on the other side he stopped adjacent to a gap between the wall he was now leaning against and a shanty-like building. Looking around the corner he could see that the gap led deeper into the dome. Twenty meters in was a small manager’s shack tucked in under some scaffolding. The urge to move forward almost caused him to move, but this was where Dyrke wanted him and this is where he would stay. Although it was at ground level he had a good vantage point from here so he panned his infrared gun sight around to see what he could see.

Further down the same alley, but on the other end of the dilapidated building on his right Dyrke was leading Rogers and Hargrave on into the dome. They passed out of sight behind the building.

There was movement out beyond his line of sight ahead. Try as he might he could not tell what it was. But it was definitely getting closer.

To his left Ian saw Boanerges, the distinctive Van Saar heavy machine gun smoothly silhouetted against the cool background giving him away. He was alone as well.

The staccato of automatic rifle fire drew his attention back to his assigned area of responsibility. Bo’s heavy stubber added its voice to the fray immediately after. As Ian scanned the area two heat signatures seemed to emerge from the floor to his front, adjacent to the scaffolding to his front. The first image was obscured by the second, but this last one was definitely a woman.

Ian dropped the crosshairs onto the second target but something made him stay his hand. The two figures were not moving towards him and his fellow Van Saar. Instead they were focused on something further on. It was Amber and Renold. Holding his breath Ian eased his finger off of the trigger.

The two Van Saar were obviously trying to figure out their next move. Judging by Renold’s repeated glances around the corner the enemy was getting close. Adjusting the settings on his scope Ian could now see at least three heat signatures moving up. Although there was a lot of intervening terrain he chanced a shot.

The sudden las bolt whipping past Renold caused him to jump back behind the wall. Renold looked back towards Ian and shook his fist, but then quickly turned his attention back towards the approaching Escher.

Ian could not tell if his shot struck anything important. When Renold shook his fist at him Ian just shrugged his shoulders and smiled. Besides, it was not even close to his fellow Van Saar.

No matter if the shot found its mark or not the wave of Escher was ready to fall upon Renold and Amber. The once indiscernible shapes now showed no less than four Black Cats. Without hesitation Ian continued to send shot after shot into the targets as they revealed themselves, but even from here he could tell that their use of cover was paying off. He had yet to inflict any apparent wounds.

In desperation Renold jumped from behind his cover with his las pistols in both hands. Each weapon was pouring round after round into the Escher. Amber stood at the corner adding slugs from her auto pistol into the volume of fire now impacting in and around the Escher. It was too late. As Amber ducked back behind the wall to reload the Escher covered the last piece of ground and were upon the two Van Saar gangers.

From where Ian was he was helpless to aid his fellow Spiders. The Escher were now on top of them. He watched as Amber slammed home a fresh clip into her auto pistol and braced herself for the onslaught.

Renold was immediately engaged by a woman wielding a heavy caliber stubber and a vicious club. Amber had more time to prepare herself as a green mow-hawked woman rounded around the other combatants.

Even from here Ian could tell that it was Jade. Both women hesitated for a split second as they recognized one another. The friendship they had once shared dropped away faster than it took for the look of recognition to fade from their faces which was instantly replaced with open loathing for each other.

Just as Jade leaned forward to sprint across the remaining ground she raised her swords over her head and let loose a battle cry that could be heard throughout the dome. Taking a half step back Amber smoothly raised up her freshly loaded auto pistol, braced by both hands. Within a heartbeat of Jade’s swords descending Amber squeezed the trigger. The outcome was inevitable. At the range involved it was unlikely that even one slug missed the mark and the lifeless form of Jade fell in a heap at Amber’s feet. But there was no time to contemplate what had just happened.

Renold’s battle with the Escher Juve had ended quickly. The young woman had landed a severe blow and her opponent and Renold was now writhing on the ground clutching his right arm. The Juve quickly followed through with her attack and descended on Amber. Before Amber could even recognize the new threat it was over. The woman’s club crashed down with a glancing blow to the side of Amber’s head and then landing heavily on her shoulder. She collapsed in a heap.

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

Part 3

There was nothing Ian could do for either Renold or Amber from where he was. His job was to provide covering fire for the rest of the Steel Spiders. The urge to cross the open ground with his lasgun blazing welled up within him. It took all of his self control, but he would follow orders and stay put. Maybe even deliver some payback.

Ian peered through the sites of his lasgun bringing it to bear on the juve now standing over Amber’s motionless body. “Steady”, he whispered to himself and began to squeeze the trigger. Just as the electrodes within the trigger mechanism were going to close Dyrke and Rogers slammed into the now gathered Escher gangers. Even though the latest Van Saar arrivals were out numbered two to one the advantage of surprise quickly evened up the odds as the pair dispatched their respective opponents with ease.

“Fall back Cats!” A voice called out from just beyond the foreman’s shack. “Leave the boys to play with themselves!” And with that the women of House Escher began to pull back with out another sound.

There is an unspoken code. When your enemy leaves you the field of battle you grant them safe passage. There are other days, other domes to be fought over. So Dyrke allowed the Cats to gather up their wounded and leave.

Once the signal was given Ian crossed the open ground quickly. Without thought he knelt next to Amber first. She was out cold and her left shoulder was at an odd angle. Rolling her over onto her back he could see that the color bone was broken. Although it had not torn through the skin – yet – it was sticking up a good distance.

“I cannot set this here. I need to get her back to the Bifrost”, Ian said looking up to Dyrke. Without waiting for a reply Ian moved over to Renold.

Renold was still conscious but he was in obvious pain. He clutched his lower right arm with his left and held it close.

“Let me see that”, Ian said.

It was not good. One of the bones in the lower arm was protruding through the skin and blood was trickling out and down the arm, dripping off the fingers to the floor below.

“I can set this here, but it is unlikely he will have much use of it for a while.”

Dyrke nodded his head in acknowledgement, his eyes fixed on the far end of the dome where the Cats had beat a hasty retreat.

“Bo, I need you to get your heavy stubber up on that platform,” Dyrke pointed up and to the right. “Cacee, I need you to cover this ground from over there on the left.”

Ian was trying to figure out what was going on. The Black Cats had left the field to them. They had won. Dyrke was preparing like they were getting ready to get over run or something.

“Katan, Rogers, and Hargrave, you are with me. Ian put the wounded in the shed here and cover the ground, but I don’t want you to shoot until the signal is given. That would be you Bo.”

“You think they are going to come back after the ass kicking we just gave them boss?” Ian asked.

“I would,” was the Van Saar leader’s reply. “They gave as good as they got. If they spring back, maybe catch us off guard, they could take the field back and inflict some pain to boot.”

Each of the Spider’s set about their assigned task.

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

Amber still had not regained consciousness, and Renold gripped a las pistol in his left hand but was still in a lot of pain. The limited amount of meds in Ian’s kit barely took the edge off. Ian had peeled back a part of the corrugated metal wall. This gave him a decent view of the designated kill zone. Jade’s body still laid strewn where it had fallen. Even though Ian and the wounded were only five meters away scavengers had already come to see what the hive had left behind. Ian tried to scare them away, but it was impossible without giving away his position. Everyone knew that such things were part of the circle of life within the hive, especially those who did not live within the comfortable walls of Hive City, but to witness it was another thing. Ian struggled to resist the urge to empty his stomach.

Just as he was sure he would lose this battle the distinct sound of falling rubble echoed through the air, then the sound of muffled voices. Ian nestled in behind the stock of his lasgun. It would not be much longer.
Slowly five distinct shapes approached the designated kill zone, though none of them were so bold as to walk in the open. Ian thought to himself, “There should be nine. Where are the other four?”

As one of the gangers darted out into the open to cross to where the body of their dead compatriot lay Dyrke opened up with a long burst. The Escher danced as the heavy caliber rounds impacted in and around the woman. When the burst ended so did the dance and she collapsed in a heap on the ground.

The other four women were quick in their response. Two of them, one being the Black Cat’s own heavy stubber, began to return fire in Boanerges’ direction. Cacee and Ian now added their own ‘voice’ to the discussion. It was a textbook crossfire and the Escher did not stand a chance.

CRASH! Just as Ian was getting lost in the battle to his front the door to the shack in which he and the other wounded were taking shelter caved in under the boot of a sturdy looking Escher. In her hands she carried a menacing looking flamer. The distinct hiss of the igniter’s small torch poised just in front of the promethium nozzle caused Ian’s heart to catch in his throat.

Then the air erupted with the sound of gun fire. Just outside of the room the distinct report of bolt pistols was joined by Renold’s repeated shots from his las pistol. The woman grunted several times as rounds impacted her body and then fell to the ground, the hiss of the igniter still spitting.

Katan stuck his head around the corner. “Things secure in here?”

Ian just waved his hand in acknowledgement. Katan nodded his acknowledgement and left.

“Thanks Renold” Ian finally said.

“No problem,” Renold said grinning. “I’ve got your back.”

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

Part 4

The din of battle outside the shack was raging hot. Even after the removal of the Escher flamer from his doorway, Ian could hear at least two separate combats taking place. One of them was just beyond the thin metal wall to his right.

With nothing more taking place out the little hole he was sitting behind Ian drew his las pistol and made for the door. If the wrong person won the exchange outside, he was sure that he and his patients would be next.

Just as the door started to swing back in again Ian shifted his pistol to the right hand and then kicked with all his weight behind it sending the door smashing back into whoever was behind it.

“Ah! Son of a….” was the only response. But more importantly, Ian recognized the voice.

“Bo! Man, sorry about that!” Ian said as he stepped through the door to help the now prone Van Saar heavy back to his feet.

“Don’t worry about it. Come on, Dyrke sent me to move you and the others. Get you all some place a little more out of the way.”

Ian scooped up amber across his shoulders, her arms to the left and her legs to the right. Renold was also up and ready to move.

Just outside the door the trio almost tripped over Katan. He was down on one knee with blood gushing out of the other. Boanerges quickly reached down and scooped up the injured ganger and the group moved on its way crossing back across the open ground Ian had first covered to get to the shack in the first place.

Once everyone was behind the cover of the alleyway the injured where lined up along the wall so Ian could give them the once over again. Boanerges covered the group from the corner, but the sound of gun play was waning fast.

The sprint across the open ground on Ian’s shoulders had jarred Amber to consciousness, and she was in obvious pain. She groaned uncontrollably as she clutched her useless left arm. The bone protruding from her where her collar bone should be continued to threaten to pierce the skin and almost touched her jaw line. There was nothing he could do but grimace for her. He reached into his kit bag and pulled out the little bit of pain relievers he had. Since leaving the comfortable labs of his father’s business he did not have the luxury of having injectors.

“You have to swallow these,” Ian said practically shoving them into the gangers mouth.

Amber gagged slightly but managed to get the pills down her throat dry.

“What about me Doc. Do you have anything left for me?”

Ian shook his head as he looked over at Renold.

“Fresh out.” The Ian remembered Katan and left Amber to suffer in peace.

Katan’s pant leg was drenched in blood. A harsh wound pierced his thigh, and it was deep.

“What do you think Ian?” Katan said as he shifted his weight so that he could give the medic better access to the wound.

“I am not sure Katan. It looks pretty bad. Can you move it?”

The seasoned ganger gingerly bent his right leg. It moved, but very slowly. Almost as if the man was trying to move a smelting furnace by himself.

Grunting Katan shook his head. “It hurts bad enough for me to think it is broken.”

Ian used both hands as he kneaded the muscles trying to feel if anything was out of place. Katan threw his head back and it took all his strength to suppress the outcry that threatened to erupt from his body.

“Sorry. Everything seems to be in place, but I think whatever it was may have nicked the bone. Can you walk?”

Katan chuckled through the pain. “Sure, if you have a couple more doses of those stimms.”

“Afraid not old man,” Ian smiled as he looked Katan in the eyes. Katan just nodded in reply.

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

It had taken the Spiders the better part of a day cycle to get everyone back to the Bifrost’s lower level. Once Dyrke had gotten his men within easy reach of their layer he took Boanerges and diverted to try and get to the trading market before the guilders closed up shop for the night. Ian had made it clear that he needed some more medical supplies. Pain relievers, stims, antiseptic and bandages were all in short supply.

Renold’s arm was easily set but, as Ian constantly reminded everyone, he was not a doctor. After a few days it was obvious that the bone would mend, but the strength would never be the same.

Katan’s wound had indeed nicked the bone. Despite Ian’s best efforts Katan had a pretty severe limp.

Amber’s shoulder was pretty bad. Once back in medical bay Ian took some tubing, formed it into two loops and placed one around each arm and up over the shoulders. With some more scraps he then tied the two loops together across her back. He pulled them so tight that it thrust her shoulders backwards. So much so that she had difficulty raising her arms up beyond her shoulder level.

“You have got to be kidding,” Amber said in frustration.

“We need to get the bone back into position to support the arm. From here the bones line up and should set nicely. Besides, I like what it does for your figure,” he finished with sly smile.

“Cute. Isn’t there anything else you men think about?”

“Sure, we also think about eating and sleeping.”

“How long am I going to have to be tied up like this?”

“It will most likely take a couple of weeks for the bone to heal sufficiently.”

“Won’t the Cats take advantage of our being a man down?”

“I don’t think the Cats are going to be out prowling anytime soon. I counted four corpses as we left ‘Kronly’s Hole’. Rumor has it they have abandoned that slag pit too. Dyrke has sent Hargrave to work it. We might be able to get some salvageable material out of it, at least for a few guilders now and then. Get some rest. I’m sure Dyrke will have something for us to do soon enough.”