Dark Heresy - Chapter 1: Inspiration Grows From The Barrel Of A Gun

The air in the small, slightly out-of-the-way middle-hive tavern of the Righteous End was stuffy, acrid with lho-smoke and obscura, and reeked of the stench of the vomit and Emperor only knew what other manner of fluids or materials had sunk into the floor over all the years. Out of the few windows near the front the metal corrugations of the middle-hive of Hive Sarellus on Thracian Primaris hung dark and oppressive, constantly filled with the bustle of untold millions of people, and always dark under the endless towerings of layers built upon layers, lit only by the faint and sickly glow of ancient and failing luminators. All manner of scum, narco-gangers, and a few men armed men with the look of local mercenaries and ex-Guard milled about, many clustered around the bar swilling down rotgut booze, some sat back across the few tables or booths, discussing all manner of things over games of Tarot in which money changed hands more times than the eye could reasonably see (under questionable auspices of legitimacy).

Remedy stood near the bar, still thinking over the dramatic and still mysterious changes that had occurred in her life in only, at least what she perceived as, the past few hours. It had only been a few hours ago, or so it seemed, she had been a promising initiate of a powerful and feared death cult on Jakert Tertius. Not much was typically tithed from the world due to its small population and pitiful native resources... but a very secretive and little-spoken-of tithe came from the immensely impressive assassins bred and trained by the cruel world's many death cults, the best of which were often picked out and sent off-world as their prime reward for their skill, either sold to an enterprising Rogue Trader or Guild, or quietly tithed by the Imperium in one of many possible more covert aspects. This had been likely to happen with her own cult soon... strangely-clad officials in modest black Imperial garb she had seen the day before discussing privately with her cult leaders the night before, and then while she slept... she only dimly remembered being awoken by something before being plunged back into a forced sleep without a word, waking up in a spartan hab-block on this immensely strange world, without a word or an explanation. This was nothing like any of the other times her brothers or sisters in the cult had been tithed... there were always minor ceremonies and it was all done relatively transparently in the isolation of their cult hideout. She had barely been able to comprehend being thrust into this world of multitudinous people and staggering metal, finding only an official slip in her room signing over the hab to herself as an official residence 'for an indeterminate length of time', paid for and authorized by... a person or organization that had redacted their name. She had found a rather modest dataslate next to it, with instructions to come to the Righteous End tavern, with clear and understandable directions to get to it from her hab, at a set time for 'answers', with warnings that failure to attend would not be met with punishment, but would entail being stranded on this world with no job or income, no forms of identity, and no standing residence. Marking the end of it was only the cryptic sign-off, "The answer is: 'Ask the Throne'. The Emperor Protects".

Standing near to Remedy was the form of a burly Arbite, settling in naturally to the environment. He felt far more at home here... this was only a little out of the way of his home turf. If he was worried about the actions he had been getting away with recently, which could mean severe trouble in the unlikely event that the senior levels of the Arbites ever investigated or brought his rather unlawful methods of 'investigation and interrogation' to the fore, he did not show it. But he was definitely brought here out of a genuine concern of the implication of a dataslate that had turned up in his hab... making curt mention of the possibility of bringing up his actions with his superiors and engendering a full investigation, if he did not come to this tavern at the set time for a 'discussion'. It ended with the cryptic sign-off, "The answer is: 'Ask the Throne'. The Emperor Protects".

Even while the two stood somewhat nervously stood at the bar, a rather unassuming and hunched figure, his face caked in grime and caulk and his posture supine and snivelling, clad in the torn and dirty vests and tatters of a low-end thug or narco-ganger, made his way slowly from the huddle of scum around the tables playing Tarot and made his way over to stand almost directly behind the two of you, his foul breath intruding quite noticeably in on your personal space, while he cocked his head and asked in his snivelling tone, "I think I know the two of you... certain I do recognize you. You were with Boss Olstaff's runners, weren't you? You were there at that debacle of a deal in Spook two cycles ago? Heh... just how much did Olstaff lose out of that whole mess, anyway?"

Remedy turned around and leaned against the counter, her green cat-like eyes looked at the man and she grinned and hissed at him through filed teeth. She didn't say anything but just looked at him, like a curious predator that had just found a new piece of meat to toy with. Talking was not her strong suit and the man was wrong either way. She was also curious about what the man next to her would say but for now she would do as she had been taught and quietly observe.

Julian paused for a moment as he heard the wretched man weasel out his sentence behind him, the waft of his foul breath doing little to improve the taste of the low-end amesac in his metal shot glass, but regardless he downed the last of it and wiped the drops from his neatly curled moustache and beard.

He turned a little to look at the odd woman beside him, as strange as the hissing was, he'd seen weirder pulled into the precinct, but there was something else unsettling about her. He'd have to keep his eye on this one.

Finally he looked over his shoulder, the questioning running through is mind was the same he asked himself whenever he had heard a whispered question since he entered the joint, 'Is this the one I'm meant to answer?' it was an important distinction to make, his career was on the line, as were the cases he was working on. Too far. He'd come too far to let those scum go now, he couldn't mess it up.

"How much?" he said in a low rumble, "Ask the Throne." This was the only question so far that had been directed towards him, even if it wasn't the one he'd been waiting for, he could still play it down.

The snivelling scum chuckled for a moment at Julian's answer, briefly revealing a mouth of yellowed and blackened, rotting teeth, "I like the cut of your answer, Arbite..." He turned for a moment to Remedy, his eyes zeroing in on hers with unexpected steel and confidence, "Pretty lady, maybe you know more specifically... how much did Olstaff lose two cycles ago?"

She licked her teeth and tilted her head to the side. "Ask the Throne and pray the Emperor protects it." She let the sentance sink in before she chukled. "Why do you want to know? What's it to you?"

The hunched ganger smiled luridly once more, revealing his yellowed teeth, "It's nothing to me, but I think it's everything to you... because, Remedy, I know you're looking for answers. You gave me one, maybe I can give you more."

He pointed with his dirty, grimy fingernails from his tacky and torn vest through the acrid layer of smoke to a dirty, forgotten and rotting empty booth near the back, "I think we all have some things worth discussing... in the back, over a nice game of Tarot?" He smiled a bit once more but did not bare a grin again, "Hell... first round of rotgut's on me."

"And what about you, my good man?" Turning her head and hissing once more though this time to Julian. The only answers Remedy wanted right now was why she was there and who she had to kill. People only abduct other people to kill them or have them kill someone, the fact that she was still alive was proof to her.

Julian eyed the two carefully, trying hard to withhold a look of distaste.
"Sure..." he said at length, "I could certainly go for some answers right about now, and a few hands of Tarot wouldn't hurt either."
He pocketed his shot glass and gestured cordially for the others to lead the way.

The ganger wasted no time in sidling over to the booth, laying down three glasses of rotgut booze and dealing out opening Tarot hands to himself and the two seats in front of him, clearly fully expecting the two of you to sit down, "Now then, I'm certain you have a fair amount of concerns and perhaps a few speculative theories about your respective situations, and just what manner of influential parties are at hand... and I assure you, your theories are wrong. You are, however, being shifted from your previous engagements to a new line of work I think will suit you both exceptionally well, and from which there is no intention of you ever returning to your old menial and backward careers."

Remedy fished out a casing and got out a lho stick, placing it between her teeth and lit it. "I am killer. I've been trained to kill and I've been killing ever since I knew how to walk. Who I work for and who I kill is of little concern to me, all I care about is the kill. By the way, you never told us your name."

Julian chose the seat that gave him the best view of the outside of the booth and flipped it around before settling into it.
He eyed the glass of rotgut suspiciously and disdained from touching it, his paranoia running high, instead opting to check the cards as they were thrown to him.
"I take it that you know who I am, and if you do then I take it that you also know that I have a number of critical investigations that demand my attention. I would hardly call them menial, and i most certainly can't afford to be 'shifted' away from them. Justice must be done." Julian didn't raise his voice, but the look he shot the other man spoke of his displeasure.

The ganger continued dealing the cards, reaching into his vest to pull out offerings of both lho-sticks and obscura to both of you, though even as he did so his posture seemed to straighten a fair bit, his tone and accent becoming more neutral though his voice fell down to a whisper, first looking to Remedy, "Fortunately, the names of your new employers and the exact nature of your new occupation and lifestyle are unlikely to ever become very apparent. And, rest assured, there will be a good deal of killing involved. As for my name... everyone else in this bar would tell you it's Dirge 'Sawteeth' Gutrull. You can refer to me as Interrogator Kalphren Varius."

He turned his grimy head briefly over to Julian, "Those petty, unimportant cases are now a thing of your past, Julian. We have far more important cases of a far graver nature for your attention... we want you to mete out justice of a far more significant nature, and without the restraints of local law and the codes of the Arbites. We prefer permanent solutions."

Remedy looked hungrily at the Obscura and happily took it and injected it into her system. "Ahhh..." she sighed with relief and closed her eyes, tilting her head back as she did. "And...what exactly is the...nature of this work you talk about, Mr. Sawtooth..." she was drifting in and out of bliss but having used the substance for quite some time she was still lucid enough to remember details about conversations.

Julian waved away the offer of the Lho and Obscura and checked his cards, the mention of the title Interrogator made him narrow his eyes in suspicion. It was a curious rank to introduce ones self as, though he wasn't sure what organization would be so brazen as to use it.
"More significant you say? That's a rather relative term. As is 'Justice' in many people's eyes. How do I know I'm not getting roped into doing jobs for some gang that's getting delusions of grandeur and thinking of sedition against the Throne?" Despite his suspicions, he had to admit, if, by some chance, this guy was on the level... the ability to move without red tape... to REALLY make a difference... it was heady proposition.

Varius nodded slowly to Remedy, "You will be serving the God-Emperor in an immensely intimate and significant manner... ending the life of the threats to the Imperium we see fit to direct you towards."

The grimy, unassuming ganger looked at Julian from beneath his tired, stained eyelids, even as he began dealing the next hand of Tarot even though they had not even completed their first, "I see you're wanting... proof of identity. Fortunately, I've brought that along... along with your motivation to pursue your new 'careers' with hard work and dedication."

From inside his jacket he pulled out two sheets of furled parchment, each of them written on elegantly in immensely-expensive ink, with the stains and slight smears suggestive of duplicate copies. Passing them to you and allowing you to read them, both of you could see they were each individual writs regarding both of you individually, each addressed personally and in a very familiar tone to Stefan Carallax, the absolute noble head of the Arbites on Thracian Primaris. They were writs accusing both of a great many grave crimes and foulest heresies, none of the specific crimes you were being accused of actually true, demanding your execution immediately and without question of the order. Both writs were unsigned, and thus clearly unsent, but were stamped and sealed near the bottom with the unmistakable and inviolable bloody seal of the Holy Imperial Inquisition, that most shadowy and terrifying of fabled and feared institutions.

"Aha..." She looked at the writ and ran her fingers over it, almost like she was feeling it out for lies or some such thing but it was more of a habit than anything else. "So that's why we are still alive and playing tarot rather than rotting in a prison or being executed straight away." Though still under the effect of the Obscura she couldn't help but giggle and smile at the prospect of being allowed to kill people without orders anymore.

Despite his best efforts, Julian could not stop a slight shake from disturbing his hand as he finished reading the writ and stroked his moustache in a slightly nervous and contemplative gesture.

The Inquisition. This wasn't good. Of course there was a chance it was a forgery... but that'd be one hell of a risk to take on Varius' part. Especially with an Arbitrator.
He took a few more moments to examine the page thoroughly before passing it back to the Interrogator.

"I... see...." he said in his low, rumbling voice, "That's quite a hand you've played... and the two Emperor's you have aren't bad either."

Varius looked over at Julian, "People have a tendency to try and read me, and assume I'm holding much less in my hand than I actually am when I play Tarot."

His voice went low again as he addressed the both of them, "Unless you would rather these writs be signed and sent today rather than in the event we should judge it necessary to do, the two of you will henceforth form Zeta Cell Scarus, and will be identified as such in any communiques we send you. When you two return home tonight you will find dataslates detailing the low-level engrams we will utilize in our communiques with you so you can be certain of their authenticity. Only pay attention to any communiques signed by either myself or by 'San Leor'. Should you be given any orders or communiques signed personally by San Leor, I suggest you treat them as though your lives and the foundations of the Imperium depended upon it... because the former is unquestionable, the latter very possible."

He stopped, and swilled down the entire glass of rotgut booze, the low-quality swill staining his atrocious teeth still further.

"So what now? We simply play our game and...wait? I have to get back and make sure my weaponry is in good order...seeing as they will probably get a lot of use from now on..." She leaned backwards, almost falling off the chair, in her bliss but managed to collect herself before she fell. "Or we could spend some time here and... get to know each other, Mr. Julian."

Julian narrowed his eyes at Remedy, "I'm sure we'll get to know each other far better than either of us ever wanted to before long." he turned back towards Varius and nodded slowly, "I hope very dearly that this ends up working out well."

Varius very calmly began shuffling the Tarot deck once more, "Now then... Julian, I'm certain you've heard of, at least tangentially, the high-value case regarding the serial killings in the Spire recently? A case reserved for the more connected Enforcers, I understand... who thus far have made almost no headway."

"Yes... I'm aware of the case, and the lack of progress." he said somewhat bitterly.

Varius folded his hands, "There was another murder today, a young noblewoman, mauled and ripped into parts like all the others. Favors are being called in for high-level attention... and this is where you come in, Zeta Cell Scarus. We want this matter concluded quickly and decisively... a quick cessation of these murder, answers brought forward, and the Emperor's justice dealt to those responsible."

"Ripped apart or mauled? Human or animal? I can rip someone to pieces with my teeth but it will still be obvious it's a human doing it." As she talked about it she smiled and her eyes rolled back into her head, obviously reliving something gruesome she had done to someone in the past.

Varius looked very stoically over to Remedy, "The evidence suggests a human... or humanoid, at the very least. Though this obviously presents issues and unanswered questions of its own."