((Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Games Workshop or its intellectual property. This story is written for entertainment purposes only.))
((Author's Note: This story was written probably about six years ago at the least and still remains incomplete, though now I'm making efforts to try and finish it. At the time, very little information was available on the Adeptus Arbites in Imperial 'fluff' and so I made do with suggestions from forum members on the Internet and my own imagination when it came to certain aspects of the Arbites. Please note this is not your typical 40K action story. It's more of my attempt at a conspiracy story. There's action of course, but that is not the basis for this tale.
Editing of this project is being helped with by TheLoneHunter on this website. I highly recommend you take a look at his work.
Thank you and please enjoy.))
In every Age, there is a cause worth fighting for.
It is the Forty-First Millennium and the Age of Battle has begun. The entire galaxy is ablaze in the fires of war and brutal conflict. Hundreds of fierce battles rage across thousands of worlds as Mankind fights savagely for its very survival against hordes of inimical Aliens.
Jahan Garistone, newly inducted into the Imperium's fearsome law-enforcement agency, the Adeptus Arbites, is about to experience a small part of this galaxy-spanning conflict first-hand.
And in his experience, he himself will find a cause. A cause not only worth fighting for, but worth dying for:
Humanity.
-Civilized-World: Champlain III.
-Capital city: Alexandria Nova.
-Sector Five of Adeptus Arbites Precinct.
-Emperor's Tranquility spaceport: the Imperium's Light.
-Afternoon, 1300 Hours, CST (City Standard Time).
Jahan Garistone let out a satisfied sigh of contentment as he stepped down onto the gleaming marble floor from the airlock. He was grateful for the opportunity to stretch his legs on real ground after more than a week in the small troop-transport's rather cramped personnel-bay. His large brown backpack seemed heavier than ever now as a large group of Imperial Guardsmen streamed past from the airlock behind him, jostling the young Arbitrator from side to side.
Noticing he was nothing more than one pale blue speck amidst a seething ocean of dark green and brown, the sheer size of the chamber he was standing in suddenly struck him. The main terminal hall of the Imperium's Light spaceport was the largest and most complex structure he had ever seen. Eyes wide in wonder, he couldn't help, but stare around him, visibly taken aback by the splendor of his surroundings.
Gaping up at ornate marble statues, which towered well over a hundred spans into the air and doubled as roof supports, Garistone began to realize just how far he had come from home. There was nothing like this back on the Agri-World - former Agri-World, he caught himself - of Harlock VI. Certainly small spaceports had been built for off-world trading and other commercial business, but nothing as vast or as splendid as the sight before him. What other great wonders existed within the Imperium of Man if mammoth structures like this spaceport were seemingly commonplace?
He stopped for a moment with the other passengers at the jewel encrusted and incense shrouded Shrine to the Emperor Invincible to give thanks for his safe arrival on Champlain III. Garistone knew Warp travel was only possible through the Immortal Emperor's personal intervention as the origin of the Astronomicon and he had heard terrible stories about the consequences of ignoring that shining beacon.
Garistone's thoughts were interrupted by the approach of a man of medium build and height. He was wearing the insignia and robe-uniform of a Master Sergeant in the Adeptus Arbites. Garistone then abruptly noticed he was alone, citizens rushing past him, but giving him a fair distance as none of them wanted any trouble with an Arbitrator, recently arrived or not. He realized in his marveling of the immense size of the spaceport and its elaborate interior, he hadn't seen the Imperial Guardsmen leave.
The young Arbitrator snapped to attention awkwardly due to the encumbrance of his backpack.
"Junior Arbitrator Jahan Garistone?" The Master Sergeant asked, studying the young recruit intently as if character traits were written across his face and torso.
"Yes sir!"
At five foot and ten inches, Jahan Garistone was shorter than the Master Sergeant, but he had the solid short-necked build of one raised on a high-gravity world. As a matter of fact, Garistone had been considered tall on Harlock VI and his heavily muscled frame, which clearly stood out amongst the people of Champlain III, wouldn't have caught a second glance there. His face was aquiline with chiseled features and his dark hair was cut very short. Few women would have called Garistone handsome, but he had an open and honest nature about him that was reassuring. Only his brown eyes, glittering with cold intensity, hinted at something deeper, something darker.
The Master Sergeant studied Garistone for a moment longer and then at last he spoke.
"Take your ease, Junior Arbitrator. I'm Master Sergeant Anthony Dawsun from Sector Four of the Precinct, where you've been assigned. I'm second to Commander Hamlon. Come with me. I have transport waiting for us outside of the spaceport. Is that all of your gear?"
"Yes, sir," Garistone said quickly. All of the things I have left in my life, he thought.
"Good. It's a bad sign when a new recruit has too much baggage. Unshakeable faith in the Emperor Ever-Vigilant and His wisdom is all you truly need. Trust that He will provide for you, Arbitrator." The Master Sergeant turned towards the exit, gesturing for Garistone to follow. "Let's go. Judge Tancredi wants to meet with you at Judgement Central, the Precinct's Headquarters."
Dawsun paused to give Garistone an opportunity to ask why he was being so honored, but his momentary silence was in vain. Seeing the young recruit intended to remain quiet for the time being, the Master Sergeant turned sharply around and began walking quickly towards the main exit. As he did so, he raised an eyebrow slightly in thought. It wasn't as if the Judge spoke to every new Arbitrator or, indeed, any of them at all unless necessary, but it looked as if Garistone was taking everything in stride.
Following the Master Sergeant closely, Garistone reflected on his decision to join the Adeptus Arbites. It had undoubtedly been the most important decision of his life and now only time would tell whether it had been a wise one.
But why, Garistone wondered, is the Judge so interested in me?
- - - - -
-Capital city of Champlain III, Alexandria Nova.
-Sector Two, Adeptus Arbites Precinct Headquarters, Courthouse Judgement Central.
-Afternoon, 1330 Hours, CST (City Standard Time).
Judge Odo Tancredi was a sturdy man of fifty years with brown eyes, greying dark hair, and a short beard. He currently stood on the balcony outside of his office within the Courthouse, gazing out across the well-tended park surrounding the building and over the capital city, Alexandria Nova.
It really was a beautiful day: the air was sweet and cool and the sun was shining brightly overhead. The city seemed energetic and alive, full of vigor. It was then, however, the sounds of distant chattering gunfire caught the Judge's attention. He glanced to his right to see black smoke rising from a nearby District filled with Hab-Blocks. The faint shriek of sirens reached his ears as emergency vehicles and City Watch patrol-cruisers converged on the disturbance. He sighed softly. Crime and violence were being committed openly in the light of day.
By the Emperor Ever-Vigilant, what was happening to this once fair city?
Ten years ago, everything had been relatively calm and peaceful. Now numerous gangs fought viciously for control of the streets and Blocks in the decrepit Slums, forming the base of a pyramid of the damned, atop which corrupt corporations and criminal syndicates daily stretched their influence a little further day by day. Under the spreading umbrella of these greater crimes, packs of petty thieves and robbers openly roamed the night, terrorizing the populace.
Tancredi had watched Alexandria Nova shrivel slowly to a husk of its former glory, but he was seemingly helpless to contain the degradation. Other Judges across the planet had reported no such occurrences in their cities and colonies. In Alexandria Nova, however, it was all the Arbitrators could do to stem the tide and prevent complete anarchy as if some sinister force was focused solely on the capital city. And no one knew exactly what was going on. The Judge had his own suspicions, but had kept them to himself thus far because he had no supporting evidence. And so Tancredi understood he was on his own for the time being, but at least he had the support of his stalwart and loyal Arbitrators.
Even so, the Judge knew he was steadily running out of his most precious resource: time.
The comm-panel set in his desk bleeped, the distinct tone of the noise indicating someone wished to enter his office. Tancredi didn't answer right away; hoping whoever it was would just leave him alone with his thoughts for now. The bleep came again though and Tancredi sighed. Duty called once again and he could not, wouldnot, shirk its ever-insistent cry.
The Judge turned and strode back into his spartanly furnished office, rearranging his robe-uniform as he sat down at his large metal desk.
"Enter," He said sternly. He picked up a grey data-slate from his desk, which contained various reports from several of the city's Sectors, and feigned reading over them.
The armored door leading into his office swung open ponderously and Marshal of Court Andru Dieder, a bald dark skinned man of solid build, entered. He snapped immediately to the position of attention in the doorway.
"Sir, Sergeant Dawsun has arrived with Junior Arbitrator Garistone."
Tancredi nodded, setting the data-slate back down.
"Good. Send them in at once."
"Yes, sir."
The Marshal left the office and Master Sergeant Dawsun entered, followed closely by Garistone. Both uniformed Arbitrators came smoothly to attention.
Tancredi nodded slightly in approval. This new Arbitrator, Jahan Garistone, almost carried himself like a veteran, despite the fact he had finished his training only two weeks ago.
As the Judge studied him, Garistone found himself looking over the Judge in turn.
The hooded robe Tancredi wore hid most of his various bio-implants and threw his face into partial shadow, creating a stern and austere effect that was certainly no accident. The Judge seemed to be of average height, filling out his black and gold robe-uniform, his badge of rank on his left breast. As Tancredi finally pulled back his hood, Garistone could see he had a piercing grey left eye with a short brown beard and grey-streaked brown hair. Several jagged scars and twisted burn marks could be seen on his solid jaw, cheeks, neck, and forehead, evidence the Judge had seen more than his share of combat over the years. However, the Judge's most striking feature was the glaring red-lensed bionic eye that had replaced his right biological one.
At last Tancredi spoke.
"At ease, Arbitrators. Sergeant, leave us."
"Yes, sir," Dawsun replied, nodding, and then left the office, the armored door swinging shut behind him.
Tancredi rose and walked back over to the doorway leading out onto the balcony. He stood there for a long moment, gazing out across the city, and then spoke without turning around.
"I'm very impressed with your record and files, Garistone. Your instructors spoke highly of you after you completed the training program. I trust you will apply your good qualities to your work as an Arbitrator under my command."
"Yes, sir, I will."
Tancredi finally turned around and walked back to his desk, standing near it as he fixed his stern gaze on Garistone.
"The situation within this city is grim, very grim indeed. Crime and violence have engulfed the capital and we're hard-pressed to deal with all of it. With only a slow trickle of new recruits for this Precinct over the past few years, we've come to lean on the City Watch for more support than I'd like to admit and even the Imperial Guard PDF garrison has assisted us in our law enforcement efforts. These external sources of aid have made me even more determined to locate the overall source of this depravity and exterminate it at all costs. For make no mistake about it, Junior Arbitrator, there is indeed one source of this rising crime wave. However, to accomplish this goal I will need the support of every Arbitrator within my Precinct. Do I have yours?"
"Of course, sir. I'm sworn to my duty."
"If we're to successfully combat this menace, we must focus on our duty to the Imperium and the Emperor Ever-Vigilant above everything else. I know what happened on Harlock VI." This last statement was said very flatly. "And I know of the Purge by Inquisitor Kager that-"
"Sir, with all due respect, I would rather not discuss-"
"Never interrupt me again, Junior Arbitrator," The Judge said sharply. "I know what happened and you know what happened. I believe you were blameless in the matter."
"Sir, I was the one who found the monster and I let it live. If I had not done so, then-"
"If you had not done so, then events wouldn't have transpired the way they did and the existence of a genestealer cult might never have been confirmed until it was too late. I realize you blame yourself, Garistone, and I can say most people in your position would do the same, but we all make mistakes. Sometimes they aren't bad, but sometimes they're the most terrible things we could've done. Regardless of this, we must learn to move on with our lives. We're only human after all and even the divine guidance of the Emperor Ever-Vigilant can only shepherd us so far. We must learn to stand on our own two feet."
The Judge suddenly slammed a gloved hand down upon the tabletop to emphasize his next point.
"We are under siege here, Arbitrator, and right now you should be focused on serving the Emperor, serving me, and serving the citizens of this city! You're here to uphold the Imperial Law within my Precinct and you'll have far too much to do than to spend time regretting past actions! If you fail to perform your duties to the best of your abilities, I will have you executed. Do I make myself clear?"
Garistone nodded, his voice quiet, yet firm as he spoke.
"Yes, sir."
"Good." The Judge fell silent for a moment before continuing. "You're still a young man and you have much to learn about the galaxy and the many dangers it holds, but I'm sure you'll prove to be a worthy addition to this Precinct. Junior Arbitrator Garistone, you're dismissed."
Garistone came to attention, before performing a strict about-face and walking out of the office.
- - - - -
-Capital city of Champlain III, Alexandria Nova.
-Adeptus Arbites Precinct Sector Four Courthouse, Enforcer Primus.
-Afternoon, 1410 Hours, CST (City Standard Time).
After his meeting with Judge Odo Tancredi, which had left him more mystified than informed, Garistone, escorted by Master Sergeant Dawsun, had next arrived at Sector Four's Courthouse, Enforcer Primus.
The Courthouse was a massive, squat, and foreboding structure, built from reinforced armorcrete and covered in thick adamantium plates. It resembled nothing more than a fortress under siege. Heavily armed and armored pairs of Arbitrators patrolled the surrounding streets, while sharp-eyed snipers on the rooftop swept their slim Needle-Pattern lasrifles ominously from side to side. Large fortified defensive towers spiked each corner, each tower manned by two cybernetic servitors. One servitor controlled a high-powered multilaser and the other acted as an assistant gunner, while also controlling a searchlight.
Evenly spaced along the thick walls, bulbous gun turrets swelled out like obscene mechanical growths. Garistone recognized the characteristic muzzles of heavy bolters and even a pair of multi-barreled assault-cannons above the main entrance. The large metal barrels glinted menacingly in the sunlight as the weapons panned steadily back and forth over the streets below. Heavy flamers sprouted from plasteel bunkers set at ground level, creating wide killing zones before the fortified main entrance and other entry portals. Several servo-skulls hummed through the air on patrol, mini-picters taking in everything that moved. Even the windows looked like anti-sniper reinforced plascrystal.
A Fortress of Justice within a city poised on the brink of Anarchy, Garistone thought, before smiling at the melodrama. In all his life he had never seen a more menacing structure than this Courthouse. Even Judgement Central had seemed more...civilized. He supposed it was because Sector Four included the Slums, which were the most dangerous areas of the capital city, and thus more protection was afforded to the Arbitrators that patrolled and monitored the various Districts within the Sector. The Courthouse was also a prime example of economy of force, for Arbitrators were relatively thin on the ground. The forbidding nature of the building was worth at least six full-strength Patrol-Teams on the streets. It remained a constant and sinister reminder of the presence and power of the Adeptus Arbites.
"Follow me, Garistone," Dawsun ordered. Returning the salutes from the four carapace-armored Arbitrators flanking either side of the main entrance, the Master Sergeant entered through the twin doors, which were thick and heavily armored affairs.
As Garistone followed the Master Sergeant inside, he glanced to his right at two of the Arbitrators. He had no doubt their large combat-shotguns were loaded with the feared Executioner shells, Adeptus Mechanicus hunter-killers capable of seeking out and destroying even the most fleet-footed of targets.
There was surprisingly little activity within the main entrance chamber. Only a handful of uniformed Arbitrators could be seen moving here and there, attending to various tasks and duties. The large main desk, ten paces across, was covered in thick plasteel plates. This was where civilians came to voice complaints or report crimes. It was manned by two Arbitrators in thick body-armor with laspistols in black holsters at their thighs. Spread out along the walls of the reception chamber to the left and the right were other carapace-armored Arbitrators, four along each wall, wielding lasguns. They stood silently and still, their weapons held at the ready across their chests.
Garistone was surprised at the sheer amount of firepower he had seen thus far. Was the Commander perhaps paranoid or was this Sector far more dangerous than it looked?
No awards, medals, or any marks of valor and honor were displayed. Unlike the men and women of the Imperial military, who openly displayed their various tokens of success with pride, the Arbitrators believed such things were meaningless. Only the Emperor Ever-Vigilant could grant them their true reward. The only decoration in the chamber was an immense golden double-headed Imperial Eagle welded to a massive support pillar behind the main desk. The words Ave Imperator and Nemo Est Supra Leges were written beneath it in polished silver letters.
Dawsun spoke as they made their way across the reception chamber towards the main personnel elevators.
"I see you've noticed the unusual amount of security we have around here, Junior Arbitrator. Believe me, it's necessary. This Courthouse was attacked last week and before that, three times in the previous two months."
As he spoke, the Master Sergeant gestured around the chamber. Garistone finally noticed the faint laser burns, bullet holes, and freshly painted sections that were clear evidence of the recent violence. They entered one of the elevators and Dawsun pressed one of the runes on the control panel. The door slid shut, the elevator lurching into motion a moment later, moving downward.
The Master Sergeant turned to him and continued.
"At first the raids weren't bad, but this latest one was disturbing. It began with a civilian protest rally in front of the Courthouse, which then proceeded to turn violent. When the Commander sent out Patrol-Teams to disperse the crowds, the people resisted with a ferocity and savagery I've never seen before. They were only armed with crude close-combat weapons, along with some auto-pistols and the like, but they managed to break through our lines and get right inside the Courthouse. The Commander let loose the defense turrets, but they kept coming, even when their dead littered the streets. We held them in the entrance chamber and then managed to push them back into the Slums, but we couldn't pursue due to our wounded.
"They weren't ordinary slummers, that's for sure. The Investigative-Teams suspected they were part of some new street gang and attacked us under the influence of narcotics. Forensics hasn't found anything yet, but they're still conducting their tests." Dawsun grimaced. "Those people fought like wild beasts. Several Arbitrators insisted their eyes were glowing a golden-yellow color, but they've been referred to the Psych-Analyst Unit for examinations.
"Since then we've had almost daily violence with the street gangs in this Sector, mostly at night. Usually they're just brief shootouts between gangers and our Patrol-Teams, but several running battles have raged in the alleys and streets of the Slums. I'll be frank and say we don't understand what's going on. The Commander and Judge have attributed it to the rising wave of unrest, but..." The Master Sergeant's voice trailed off as he glanced at the floor of the elevator for a moment. "Some Precinct to report to, isn't it?" He chuckled grimly. "Don't worry, Junior Arbitrator, we're a team and I'm sure you'll do just fine."
The elevator came to a halt and the door slid open.
"Here we are, Garistone: living quarters on level six. Most of the building above ground level is administration and command, so we live and train down here. On this level you can find the Shrine, living quarters, bathrooms, mess hall, gym, and medical-bay. There are a few general training rooms too. Level five is the same. Level four has the armories, security center, and holding cells, while levels three and two consist of briefing rooms, labs, and machine workshops. Underneath us is level seven, the vehicle-bay."
Garistone nodded, listening intently as the Master Sergeant continued.
"You may be wondering why you don't have an electronic security tattoo. We aren't quite sure yet of your combat strengths and weaknesses, but during training you demonstrated a natural talent for covert operations and missions. We have a great need for Arbitrators skilled in abilities that could prove useful in undercover operations. Therefore we may use you in the future for such missions and because of that we haven't issued you with a standard electtoo. Not having a personal electtoo will prevent you from being identified and tracked by our enemies, should you be assigned to covert missions. Here's a personal security passkey though," Dawsun said, handing a standard black security card to Garistone.
"Using that passkey will allow the machine-spirits inhabiting the security systems of the Courthouse to recognize you and let you pass through most secure doors. Normally the building's on-duty Security Proctor would issue it to you, but I thought I'd better do it personally. You'll also need this," The Master Sergeant added, handing Garistone a data-slate. "That data-slate contains all the local rules and regulations which apply to you here on Champlain III. In addition, there's information on our presence in the capital city as well as detailed maps of this building, the other Courthouses, and the city itself. Most of this you should already know, but use this data-slate if you need a refresher course."
"Thank you, sir."
"Your quarters are in section two, just down this main corridor and to the right. You're lucky; you've got a single in room five. Usually we cluster Arbitrators in larger rooms in groups of up to four, but...we've had some extra room lately. You've been assigned to the Delta Patrol-Team under Team Leader Adamu Regis. Get settled in for now and feel free to explore the various levels, but don't get lost. Third mess is always at 1900 hours until 2000. At 2030, you'll meet Delta Team in briefing room five on level three. All right, I'll see you later."
The Master Sergeant nodded to Garistone as the young Arbitrator exited the elevator and made his way down the corridor as instructed. He soon located the plain metal door with 'Five' engraved on it. Gripping the metal handle tightly, Garistone pushed the door open.
The room was small and sparsely furnished with a standard metal-framed bed with a firm sheeted mattress, desk with a single chair, dresser, and closet. Garistone sighed slightly. Well, he had seen worse. His thoughts wandered back to training and he grimaced. Oh yes, he had seen much worse... It would do. He remembered one of his training instructors telling him that questioning such trivial things was to question the wisdom and foresight of the Emperor Ever-Vigilant Himself.
Setting his large brown backpack on the bed, Garistone undid the polished brass buckles and began to unpack his relatively few belongings. Clothes first - he opened the closet and hung up both pairs of regulation uniforms and a few dark sets of combat-fatigues that would be worn beneath his issued suit of carapace-armor. Two pairs of black combat-boots, polished to a high shine, were also placed in the closet, along with two utility caps. An armful of assorted underclothes and personal hygiene items went into the dresser drawers. He only had two sets of garrison uniforms for the times he'd be off-duty and those went into the closet as well. His small collection of grey-framed data-slates fit nicely into the desk's single drawer. He spent a few minutes ordering them, from Adeptus Arbites urban tactics to proper weapons maintenance to an Ecclesiarchy text on the Immortal Emperor. His father's worn and leather-bound copy of the Book of the Word took centerpiece on the desktop. Finally he took out the wood-framed picture of his family.
Garistone sighed as he removed this last item from the duffel bag. Leaning back in the hard chair at the desk, he gazed down upon the faces of his stern father, his visage owl-like because of his thick glasses; his hard working mother, with her thick forearms and ruddy cheeks; and his little sister, Sarah, a happy smile upon her face, despite the fact she was forever bound to her wheelchair, a brown blanket covering her crippled legs. She had been special, he thought sadly.
He kissed the picture gently and placed it on the desk next to the Book of the Word.
"Father, mother," Garistone whispered, bowing his head as a solitary tear dripped down his cheek. "I will keep my promise."
- - - - -
Garistone spent most of the time he had available in exploring the extensive underground levels of the Courthouse, his new home for the foreseeable future. His first stop was at a Shrine devoted to the Emperor Ever-Vigilant on level six, where he completed his daily prayers. Next he visited the large holding cells with their thick bars and shimmering stun-fields as well as the security center, an impressive chamber filled with stern-faced men, cybernetic servitors, large blinking consoles, and flickering holo-screens. Finding the laboratories and machine-shops to be beyond his security access, he opened the door of the nearest armory. Metal racks of assorted weapons and wide shelves of neatly stacked munitions and equipment stared back at him. With a satisfied smile, Garistone left the armory and proceeded to the training rooms, taking in the rows of exercise machines and racks of weights with not a small sense of approval.
Whilst exploring, he met several other Arbitrators, but though he greeted each of them politely, none of them seemed interested in speaking with him. After the fourth man had walked past Garistone without seeming to even notice him, he realized their reactions were some sort of personal protection. Friendships between Arbitrators could sometimes be very short-lived and until a newcomer proved himself, very few would be willing to get to know him.
Garistone, however, was not put off by their actions in the least and right now he was more concerned with the training rooms as he was resolved to become stronger and faster. There were, of course, the standard mandatory drills and physical training, but he needed to do more, much more, on his own. His nightmares grew worse day by day and intense physical training was the only tool he had found that allowed him to release some of his suppressed anger, before it could grow to tear him apart inside.
After spending another half-hour exploring the underground levels of the Courthouse, Garistone returned to his assigned living chamber to review the information on the data-slate the Master Sergeant had given him. He would undoubtedly be expected to know most of the critical information contained within that data-slate by the time he met his teammates.
Resolved to prove he was capable, Garistone sat down at his desk, picked up the data-slate, and began to read the introductory section on Champlain III:
Imperial Arbitrator of the Adeptus Arbites, Enforcers of the Pax Imperialis.
Welcome.
Praise the Emperor Ever-Vigilant, Arbitrator, for in His great wisdom, He has decided you will serve the Imperium of Man best by joining the Adeptus Arbites Precinct within Alexandria Nova, the capital city of Champlain III. Champlain III is currently well-populated with ten major cities, including the capital city, and two small towns. Champlain III is designated a Civilized-World by the Imperial Administratum on Great Terra, praise the Emperor, and is located on the Eastern Fringe of the Imperium of Man.
Alexandria Nova itself consists of over a dozen Sectors. Each Sector is further divided down into four to six large Districts. These Districts...
- - - - -
After several hours it came time for third mess. Garistone left his room, having absorbed as much of the information on the data-slate as he could. He made his way through the corridors and plain grey-walled hallways until he arrived at the mess hall. Pushing open the double doors, he was surprised to find he was one of the first ones to arrive. He nodded a friendly greeting to the few other Arbitrators in the large chamber, one of whom regarded him with something akin to recognition.
Garistone walked over to the serving line and received a large bowlful of what could only be described as thick gruel. Supposedly this gruel contained all of the vitamins, minerals, proteins, carbohydrates, fats, and other nutrients the human body needed for a good wholesome meal, but Garistone wasn't willing to bet anyone on it. Getting himself a large glass of cold water, he made his way over to an empty table in a corner of the mess hall and sat down, placing his tray on the table before him. Taking a tentative taste of the porridge-like substance, he set his metal spoon aside, marveling at what they had managed to do with melted ceramite lately.
Immersed in his own thoughts, Garistone didn't notice the approach of another Arbitrator.
"Do you mind if I sit with you?"
The question took Garistone by surprise. He glanced up quickly to see it had come from the middle-aged man who had regarded him so curiously when he had first entered.
"Of course not," He replied hurriedly, gesturing to the seat across from his own.
The other Arbitrator smiled as he sat down, setting his tray upon the table.
"I'll admit," The man said, gesturing at his own bowl of gruel. "It really doesn't look like much when you first get it and I've seen better things done with melted plastic, but it keeps you going when you need to. It isn't the only thing we eat of course," He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "But I think they give it to us more often than not to make us fighting mad. It's easier to enforce the Imperial Law if we're all angry and itching for some action." He winked, leaning back in his chair as Garistone grinned.
"Jahan Garistone," He said, reaching out with a large hand.
"Adamu Regis," The other responded, shaking hands firmly.
Garistone's eyes widened slightly in surprise. This was his Patrol-Team Leader, yet he conversed with Garistone as if he was an old friend.
"Sir, it's good to meet you," The young Arbitrator said formally as he sat up straighter in his chair, but Regis waved at him to relax.
"Don't 'sir' me, Garistone. I'm off-duty for now." He leaned back, studying the young Arbitrator intently. "So, you're our new man. Your records speak highly of you. I must admit I was impressed with the reports of your success in training. Glad to have you in my Patrol-Team. I'll introduce you to the rest of the Arbitrators at 2030."
As their conversation continued, Garistone found himself growing to respect his new Team Leader.
The man was an experienced officer, having served in three Precincts on two different worlds, including Champlain III. Yet despite his veteran status, Regis was friendly and outspoken, freely giving advice to the younger Arbitrator. Garistone soon found himself discussing various tactical situations with Regis as well as current events occurring within the capital city. He soon realized this was a test to see how much he knew, how he might react in an emergency or under pressure, and how much of the material he had received from Dawsun he had read and could actually remember. Regis obviously believed in his own observation as a useful supplement to official reports. While they were talking and eating, the mess hall slowly filled up with other Arbitrators, some of whom nodded affably at the conversing pair.
Garistone was just finishing off his gruel when an unexpected alarm sounded, blaring and insistent. A moment later the alarm ceased as the public-address system activated. A deep voice was heard clearly.
"Patrol-Teams Alpha, Beta, Delta, and Gamma, report immediately to briefing room four. SHOCK-Team Three, report to briefing room four. This is not a drill."
The PA clicked off as Regis cursed softly.
"Well," He said to Garistone. "Delta is my Team, so of course you're invited to the party. Follow me."
The two rose and walked quickly from the mess hall, joining up with several other Arbitrators. Making their way to the elevators, Garistone followed his Team Leader to level two and then to the assigned briefing room. Once inside, he took a seat near Regis in the midst of the eight other uniformed Arbitrators of the Delta Patrol-Team. Three other groups of ten Arbitrators each were in the room as well as a group of ten men sitting in a corner, the elite members of the SHOCK-Team.
The briefing room doors slid open and a uniformed Proctor made his way down the main aisle to the front of the room where a blank display-screen with accompanying rune-panel was attached to the wall. Nearby was a bulky holo-display unit on a wheeled metal table.
"Listen up," The Proctor said, looking around sternly. "As some of you already know, our Investigative-Teams believe the Mechanus Enterprises R&D Corporation is actually a legal money-making front for an illicit weapons business. They aren't exactly sure who's unofficially running the corporation, but highly suspect corrupt city officials as well as street gang involvement. An Investigative-Team has just discovered that tonight Mechanus Enterprises' primary storage warehouse in the Jonathon Parks District will be lightly guarded. This is because additional guards are needed at their other storage facilities as new security systems are installed. They believe their main warehouse is secure for now and have left only lightly armed guards for protection. The warehouse contains illegal weapons Mechanus sells to street gangs in the capital city and most likely to gangs and criminals in other cities across the world. Tonight we're going to seize as much of that contraband as possible. If successful, this mission will justify a full-scale assault on Mechanus' headquarters. Is this understood?"
There were nods of assent from all Arbitrators in the room.
"Good. Specific mission orders and plans will be given to Team Leaders. The operation will commence at 0200 hours this morning. Praise the Emperor Ever-Vigilant, Arbitrators!"
Proctor Gideon then began to hand out data-slates to the Team Leaders.
"Delta Team, listen up!" Regis said. "All right, first things first. This is our new man, Jahan Garistone. Since we haven't had the time to run through our various Team Exercises and Combat Drills, he'll be my Shadow for now."
He gestured to Garistone as he spoke, who nodded to the other Arbitrators in the Patrol-Team. A few of the men nodded at him in return or raised thumbs-up in encouragement.
"You can pester him later with your names as there isn't time right now. For now, he'll be in my squad so I can keep an eye on him. All right, people, let's go over this operation carefully."
As they got down to it, Garistone realized he was embarking on his first official mission. He prayed fervently it would be a successful one.
- - - - -
-Capital city of Champlain III, Alexandria Nova.
-Sector Four of Adeptus Arbites Precinct, Jonathon Parks District.
-Morning, 0200 Hours, CST (City Standard Time).
It was early morning in Alexandria Nova and most of the capital city's citizens were at home, asleep in their beds.
Distant explosions could be heard from other Districts mixed in with the staccato chatter of gunfire as street gangs and other criminals fought against elements of the Imperial Guard PDF garrison, the City Watch, and the Adeptus Arbites. Clearly the night didn't favor all who came under its sweeping shadow. Many were the dangers that faced those who would venture forth from their homes after the sun had set.
Within the Jonathon Parks District, the night air seemed especially tense as dark figures moved cautiously towards one large warehouse. They had emerged from several nearby side-streets, avoiding the dimly lit main avenues. The figures wore bulky suits of black carapace-armor including head-enclosing helmets, armored gauntlets, and plated boots. No identifying symbols could be seen on their armor.
The raiders were armed with large combat-shotguns, but the weapons were loaded with non-lethal shells containing hard rubber pellets. The pellets were unlikely to kill a man unless at point-blank range, but were capable of severely injuring him to the point of incapacitation. An assortment of backup weapons and other equipment, including holstered laspistols and boxy medikits, were secured to their utility belts.
The armored figures closed in around the warehouse, almost blending in with the gloomy shadows. They sealed off the front of the building where the three cargo-bay entrances were located. Teams of ten men each then gathered near those entrances.
The mission was a go.
- - - - -
A note/review from TheLoneHunter: I must say, as a fellow author, I feel that it was criminal, nay, heresy, that this absolutely magnificent story remained hidden from the public, while the Warhammer section of was flooding with been-there-done-that stories about Space Marines fighting Chaos, Orks fighting Guardsmen, and Inquisitors hunting down heretics. Truly, tales of the Adeptus Arbites are a minority. A wonderful, engaging minority.
While I myself have briefly experimented with the Arbites in my story Battlegrounds II: The Canticar Crusade, they pale in comparison with the creations of Thx10050. I am truly awestruck by the sheer amount of effort and care that was put into this. This fanfic might very well be the next The Assassin. When I say "Black Library material", I mean it wholeheartedly. Congratulations, sir. It's been an honor editing your work.
-TLH