The industrial mills had been abandoned about a decade ago. Before they had only worked from time to time, the Mechanicus no longer that interested in keeping it operational as a primary production site, having found alternatives that required less time and resources to keep running. After its official decommission, a group of workers had tried to keep it in business themselves, but the gangs had identified it as an asset soon enough and had taken over control a couple of weeks later. Gangers aren't the best of managers though and the workers weren't very motivated to slave away if all the fruit of their labour was siphoned away to some local ganglord. So, a few months later the wheels and gears had stopped spinning and it had become yet another abandoned manufactorum of Kraskow's underhive. It had been Nowak who had seen another use for it. With a bit of work it was an excellent defensive position and a perfect backup for their main base of operations. The mills consisted of a dozen buildings, but the Jesters had chosen the main silo to build their base. From the top - about 200 metres above ground level - you had a good overview of the mills and the underhive districts surrounding it. The walls were solid, ten foot thick rockcrete and at different heights there were small service platforms that had been transformed to sturdy pillboxes and that overlooked the stairwells on the inside. The silo stood a bit isolated from the rest of the building and in between the support pillars of the butressed base, the Jesters could easily install a few heavy stubbers, creating the perfect field of fire. The Jesters didn't keep the defenses primed and ready around the clock - that would ask for too much manpower and too much resources - but Nowak had stacked it with ammo and the necessary gear if they would ever come under an organized attack. All in all, Parcivale had thought the position very secure and considered it one of the reasons why Nowak had deserved to be the Jesters' leader.

The scene before him was challenging him to reconsider that. Keita and he had moved into the mills and were now hiding in one of the former Mechanicus barracks, peering out of one of the dirty windows overlooking the square at the base of the silo. The rockcrete deck, here and there overgrown with yellowish patches of hard-leaved grass, was littered with bodies. They didn't need magnoculars to identify the bodies as mutants that were brought down by the heavy stubbers positioned both at the base and the top of the silo. Parcivale counted six corpses. Closer to the base a lot more were laying around, although it was difficult to estimate the true number seeing as bodyparts had been strewn over the defensive position like a cook would season a dish. What was clear though was that the the stubber nests were taken out. From their current position, they could see one nest where the barrel was snapped in two and another one where the entire gun was demolished, laying in pieces around the sandbag cover. The main doors to the silo were forced open and Parcivale could only imagine what carnage lay beyond. Keita sighed. "Looks like we might be too late." Parcivale looked aside. She sounded disappointed. "Meaning I'll have to continue looking after that staff." She slid down with her back against the wall. "Throne!" she cursed. It was the first time Parcivale saw her commitment simmering through her casual facade. The ganger remained silent, not really sure where the interrogator was going with this. Helena Keita sat still for a second, perhaps resigned, before she sprung back into action. "Let's go. Won't hurt to go take a look."

Parcivale stood up and followed her, before wondering why he was actually following her. He had brought her to where he thought Nowak would be. He had no interest in her business. And it didn't look like there was anyone left to save. Still, he followed her out of the barracks, running after Helena. She took a knee beside one of the mutant corpses. It was utterly destroyed. "Looks like the sheer volume of slugs has finished this one off." Parcivale looked away. You could only vaguely recognize the bloody ravage as a mutant body. Its torso was reduced to a bloody pulp. He was just about to ask her if she wanted to take some picts when a long burst of auto fire came from the silo. Keita reacted immediately, sprinting towards the base of the silo, leaving Parcivale behind as the ganger was still processing the information. "They're still fighting, moron!" she yelled at him over her shoulder. "Get over here!" Parcivale followed the interrogator's example and ran full speed at the sandbags where she was heading. He slid behind them, even as she was taking a careful look over the sandbags at the interior of the silo. "You see anything?" he asked. The sound of the stubber now got the company of other bangs, which Parcivale could identify as autoguns and stub revolvers. Keita slid back down behind the sandbags and unhooked a little apparatus from her belt. He heard her chant something which sounded like a prayer, although it wasn't directed at the Emperor and suddenly a little green screen lit up. A dozen or so white blips appeared on the screen as she scanned the silo from the bottom up. The interrogator cursed. "There's still a lot of them, and this little fellow hasn't got the strength to punch through that rockcrete further up." Shaking her head, she stowed the compact auspex and took another look at the entrance. "We're not going to be able to pass them like that. If there would be less of them, I might try it, but they have the higher ground. And we risk getting caught in the crossfire of your people.

Parcivale was surprised by the woman's capacity of reading the tactical situation on such short notice. He was also curious about the little contraption she was carrying. "Is that a weapon?" he asked, pointing at the auspex. Keita smiled and shook her head. "Neither is this." She let her small backpack slide from her back and rummaged through it, revealing something which looked like a pistol. "It's not?" Parcivale asked, one eyebrow raised. Her hand went back in her pack and now came out with a coil, a long silver line tightly spun around it. "You're lucky I'm carrying two of these babies." Parcivale was pretty sure he wasn't lucky at all. "These are grapnel pistols. We fire the grapnels to the top of the silo and we climb it from the outside. Relax. There's a built-in winch, so you don't even need to do the hard work." She clipped one end of the wire to a little harpoon sticking out of the barrel of the gun, while the other end went to her belt. "Shame you don't have a climbing belt, but that'll work." she said, pointing at Parcivale's worn leather belt. Parcivale shook his head. "You think I'm gonna go up there with that?" he said, indicating the grapnel with a small nod. "Think again, wany."

One look on Helena Keita was enough for Parcivale to realize that he had overstepped his authority. The cheery, easy going attitude got replaced with cold conviction. "We made a deal. I ain't seeing your boss here. So you're staying with me until you've delivered. A man like you should understand that there's no backing out of such things." She didn't even have to reach for the boltpistol at her belt to press her point. Parcivale just grabbed the second spool and clicked the fine silver hook on his belt. He tugged at it, checking whether it would hold. The leather creaked a bit, but seemed to hold together. Meanwhile, Keita had undone her holster with the bolt pistol. "Your pea shooter won't put a dent in those mutants. Take this," she said, handing him both the holster as the bolt pistol. "Unless you prefer to get all close and personal." But one look on the power dagger was enough for Parcivale to stick with the pistol. He wasn't completely unfamiliar with knives and the like, but he felt far more comfortable fighting his enemies from a distance. Especially mutants that could poison you with a single scratch.

"Alright. Follow my lead." The interrogator said as she took a few steps backwards, before raising the grapnel pistol, aiming at the roof of the silo. She pulled the trigger, a metallic click followed by a short hiss, and the grapnel flew up, the line on the spool unwinding at high velocity. Seconds later, the winch pulled the cable taut and Keita started running towards the wall of the silo. Against his better judgement, Parcivale followed her example, not trying to think about how sturdy his belt was, nor about the strength of the silo's roof or whatever it was the grapnel had got a hold on. Half a minute later they were both hanging from their lines, hopping from one leg on the other as the winches pulled them up metre by metre. Parcivale held the cable with both hands, didn't look down and tried to ignore the sound his belt made every time he pushed off. The tension was clearly visible on his face, quite the opposite of Keita who not only gracefully mounted the silo, but also kept looking around, checking their surroundings. The dull, booming noises grew louder and louder as they ascended until Parcivale could swear someone was firing a stubber right at the other side of the wall. One look at the top of the building told him that they were over three quarters of the way, so the Jesters were probably down to their last defensive position before the enemy would reach the old and derelict control station at the top, the last strongpoint. They mounted even further until they finally arrived at the top of the silo. The circular metal plated roof was deserted, leaving three stubber nests unmanned. Parcivale could only guess that once the enemy had breached the defences at the gates, the gangers here had rejoined their comrades on the inside. The service hatch that led to the control station stood wide open - nobody expected someone infiltrating from the top - and as soon as Keita had deconnected herself from the grapnel, she ran towards it.

"Wait!" Parcivale yelled. "Let me go first." But the words had only just left his mouth, when the crack of a loud explosion came from the room below. Parcivale fumbled with his line and could see how Keita jumped dauntlessly into the room. "Frig." he cursed and started running too, still pulling at the paddle leach attached to his belt. Coming at the hole in the floor, he took cover behind the thick steel hatch and instead of picking away at the leach, just unclasped his belt. Right after he had pulled the bolt pistol from its holster. He pointed it down and looked for targets, but he only had a limited view on the circular room below. From his position he could only see a quarter at best, and it wasn't even the part with the door to the internal stairwell. The lights in the room, industrial lumenstrips, were on, but visibility was poor as a lot of smoke hung in the room, probably from the explosion. He heard some erractic gunfire and actually saw a ganger carrying a pump-action shotgun shooting at some unseen enemy below. Although he wondered how Helena had managed the jump - the floor was ten foot below the hole - he decided he needed to displace. But contrary to the interrogator he didn't feel comfortable jumping down. Instead he took to the thin service ladder, franticly hoping that he wouldn't get shot as he slid down. The thing just hung in mid air of the room leaving him awfully exposed. His landing was rather unsteady and immediately he crawled to the nearest piece of cover. He put his back against an overturned plasteel desk and held the bolt pistol two-handedly in front of him. His eyes darted across the room, trying to make sense of the tactical situation. There was sporadic gunfire around him, but nothing that indicated a full-on assault of the control room. He looked for Keita, but couldn't find her. He spotted a fellow Jester that was crawling towards the entrance of the room, a combat blade in his hand, but before he could make contact, the man disappeared behind a derelict cogitator station. Finally, his eyes fell on another figure across the room. The girl had taken a position as far from the stairwell as possible and held a simple stub automatic, but she clearly was ill at ease with the weapon. Parcivale could tell from the way she held it. He also knew why. Janina never had been good with guns and had always preferred close combat weaponry.

He stared at her for a second and felt surprise when she looked up and their eyes crossed. He could see how her expression of nervousness changed to something which resembled confidence and the next moment she was crawling towards him, flat on her belly, pulling herself forward on her elbows. He didn't even bother trying to stop her. And, if anything, she would be another target to distract the enemy. As she was on her way, Parcivale risked a quick look in the direction of the door. The smoke was thicker there and one could only barely discern the strip lights of the stairwell beyond. The mutants could be seconds away, but nothing seemed to happen. The gunfire withered away as nobody stormed the room. Parcivale looked back at Janina. "What happened? Where's Nowak?" Janina looked around. "He's somewhere in here." But she didn't seem to know his exact position either. "Frig." Parcivale cursed softly between his clenched teeth. He had to worry about too many things. First of all, he really didn't want to get close to any of the mutants that were about to attack the control room. Second, he had an interrogator on the loose who was about to execute the boss. As a bonus, he still hadn't figured out if that really was a bad thing. Thirdly, he still worried about the interrogator's intentions for himself. She had wanted to execute him before and although she had finally decided against it, he wasn't entirely convinced that she would leave him be after this whole mess. And of course, there was still a little voice at the back of his head that reminded him of Whisper's current predicament. Although that situation was clearly the least important.

Parcivale was just about to displace to start looking for Nowak or Keita when a ripple went through the smoke. Then suddenly people around him started screaming. Including Janina. The lithe woman put her hands against her ears and with her eyes bulging out of her sockets, her pupils dilated to the fullest. She shrieked at the top of her lungs. Parcivale didn't understand what was going on and didn't get the chance to investigate. Over the screaming, someone yelled "Incoming!" and Parcivale looked over the edge of the overturned desk he was hiding behind. Sure enough a humanoid form had appeared in the door opening. Parcivale pulled the trigger of his bolt pistol. He completely misjudged the kickback and nearly got the gun against his head. His shot missed the form he had aimed for, but with a stroke of the Emperor's luck the shell hit the next mutant that had come up the stairs. Parcivale couldn't even see whether it was effective as he was suddenly distracted by gunfire right next to him. He ducked and looked beside him. Janina still had her hand on her left ear, but with her right hand she had picked up the stub automatic and fired it wildly. Right in a metal cabin full of dusty datalooms a few steps away. "Jay!" he yelled. But the girl started waving the gun around, now shooting at the ceiling. "They are coming out of the walls! They are coming out of the walls!" Parcivale didn't have to check to know that nothing was coming out of the walls, but from the gunfire breaking out from all across the room and the screams of anguish ringing against the walls, it seemed that Janina wasn't the only one who was tripping. Suddenly Janina aimed the gun straight at him. In a reflex, Parcivale fell backwards, the bullet she fired at him a second later whizzing over him. He kicked at her gun, scoring a hit on her wrist. The girl cried out in surprise and fired another two shots, when finally she had exhausted her clip. As Parcivale sat up again, Janina threw the gun with a defiant cry. "You'll never get me, skurswyn! Never!" She reached for her switchblade when Parcivale decided he had had enough. With a stunning slap, he hit her on the head with the butt of his pistol. At this point he didn't really care whether it would crack her skull or not. The situation was dire. He heard screams of gangers getting wounded and he guessed that it weren't even the mutants that were causing it. Janina didn't see the blow coming and was knocked out cold instantly.

But before he could actually get his bearings something smashed into the plasteel desk at his back. Looking up, he saw the furry back of another mutant. Immediately he fired two shots in the thing's twisted back, the bolt shells burrying themselves in its flesh and blowing away large chunks of meat as they detonated. "Base of fire on the door Hammer!" Keita cried, who had connected the sound of the bolt pistol with the survival of Parcivale. 'Base of fire, with a friggin pistol.' Parcivale thought, but nevertheless he looked over the desk and aimed for the door. Immediately he realized the interrogator hadn't been wrong. Half a dozen mutants were squeezing through the door, apparently all convinced that they should be the first to bring the carnage to the remaining Jesters. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. His first shot exploded the head of the first mutant. His second shot blew away the arm of the next. As a bonus the crude black axe it held, landed in its right foot, making the thing crash to the ground. The third mutant stumbled over his falling comrade, making Parcivale miss his third shot, but immediately the ganger corrected his aim and got the mutant in the chest. He fired another bolt shell at the thing for good measure seeing as it stumbled on. The last shell of the clip was now in the chamber and he took a short moment to make it count. The remaining mutants seemed to have lost their appetite to storm in and were taking cover behind the door jambs, so he looked for another target. His eyes passed over Keita who kneeled beside a mutant's body, her power dagger still lodged in its throat. He saw another mutant charging through the control room, but before he could bring it in his crosshairs the thing had body checked a fellow Jester and Parcivale didn't dare shoot in the wild melee. There were enough enemies anyway; whatever they had done to the defenders' minds had been enough of a distraction to penetrate the last line of defense. With a sense of desperation Parcivale looked for a new target.