+++5.815.986.M41+++
+++Vostroya, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++
+++Alyevsky Spaceport - Gustav's Kafe+++
Their meeting had been planned meticulously, but for all the planning, it would only take an hour, two max. One of them would stay behind, while the other would continue his travel along the stars. Both of them were staring at their glass of dryké and the mood was dour.
"So, no further progress to report then?" Lars asked, loud enough so the other man could hear him over the racket the natives were making. "No, none so frakking ever." Willis' voice carried a tone of defeat. Lars wasn't used to it and he studied the other man's face as Willis looked at a brawl breaking out at the bar where two blackhaired Vostroyans with their typical thick moustaches had decided that their drinking contest had grown into a boxing match. Lars could see that the man across had aged quite a bit since they had last met aboard the Revenge. His hair was a bit thinner and his skin had caught a greyish gleam.
"So, what's your next step?" If anything, Lars wanted to help the other man with his investigation. Although he had saved Willis' life back on Phlegethon, he was still at a disadvantage. If he could start repaying his debt to the man by aiding him, it would be the least he could do. Willis had been assigned to this mission even before Lars had been able to lose the wheelchair. The fact that he was no closer to apprehending the former captain of the Warrior of the Warp since then, was testament to the difficulty of the task, not the qualities of his fellow arbite.
"I don't think I have much choice in the matter, Lars. Even though my cover is blown here, I've still got the bastard pinned down on this planet. The Vostroyans are pretty sharp when it comes to security. I hear their firstborn regiments are quite prized on the front lines. I've visited the command center of system security. Apart from hitching a ride with a frakking rogue trader, he's not getting off the planet. They don't look kindly to smuggling here, I can tell you that." When his ship arrived at Vostroya, Lars had heard the same stories from his fellow crew mates. They had told him that he shouldn't come close to anything shady. Apart from Katrina's brothel, where the shades only hid more potential pleasure. If the Vostroyan enforcers would get their hands on a smuggler, the entire crew would be made an example off. Lars had witnessed the cruel tradition first handedly when they had docked at one of the orbital platforms. On the way to the surface, he'd seen some corpses chained to the station, naked in the void and burned black by stellar winds. It had only confirmed his own believes which he based on his dealings with major Kirilenko back on The Hole.
"How about I get you a new cover. My captain hasn't got a clue of what's going on in the belly of the ship and I've got some credit with the chief of my gang. We could easily set you up with an ID. Make you look like you ditched ship and got stranded here. It might give you an edge on him." Willis rolled the clear fluid around in his glass as he considered Lars' proposal. Lars took a swig of his own glass, coming once more to the conclusion that Gustav's dryké wasn't anything to write home about. "Nah. I think I'll pass, gov. This guy is sleek. Too sleek to underestimate. We would probably endanger your own cover and you seem to be making good headway yourself."
Lars couldn't deny the truth. By bringing Willis into his inner circle, he would raise suspicion among his fellow crewmates. And they seemed to be a promising lead in tracking down the source of a seemingly endless supply of heretical amulets. "No Lars. I'll have to figure this one out myself." Willis repeated, more convinced this time. He swallowed the last of his dryké and apparently he had closed the subject. Apart from a new cover, Lars didn't have much to offer, so he let it be. It wasn't like he was Willis' superior. Both men were regulators in their own right, both had their orders from the judge. And Willis' update about his hunt for the captain of the Warrior of the Warp hadn't been the only reason for this meeting Frank had set up.
"Though I might have some intel you could use for your mission, Lars." Willis continued. "I've stumbled over some of those amulets of yours. But these were quite something else than the mess you began with, as far as I can say." The fight at the bar had escalated and it appeared as if the Vostroyan locals had stepped on the toes of a bunch of burly sailors. Most of the customers of Gustav's Kafe were paying close attention - some of them betting on the outcome, while others made sure they stayed out of reach of the jumble of flailing arms - and those that weren't paying attention seemed to be happy with the distraction and focused on their own business. Willis used the distraction to slip Lars a little, flat wooden chest. The lid of the box had been engraved with high gothic words and the edge had been decorated with small pearls. Lars palmed the thing and put it in his lap, quickly opening it to find something he recognized in an instance.
The amulet was made of silver and glass. What it represented was still open for discussion, but whatever it was... it was something vile. Caught in a double silver ring was a glass marble, this time made from green emerald. Inside you could see a healthy, naked man, but when you slid the rings over each other, the fresh green colour turned to a more dirty shade and the picture of the man changed to something else. Horrigan had described it as some sort of reptile or a drake. That hadn't meant anything to Lars, but the clerk had explained that it was an ancient symbol, its origins lost in time. But it stood for a primal, but evil power. "Definitely not the thing the Ecclesiarchy wants the people to rally behind, old chap" Arthur had said. The last years, more and more of the things had turned up in the sector, but those were of a quality far below this one. Most of the times the rings were made of common iron and the marble from simple glass. The dossier had landed on Belloran's desk after a few years when someone had decided that "the frakking things were being spread all over the sector, which made it a dossier for the naval arbites." So when he had come back from The Hole, Lars had been briefed and send back on his way to find the source of the amulets.
After a quick look on the thing, Lars shoved it in one of the dozen pockets of his worker's fatigues. It was one of the few upsides of his cover: sturdy clothes under which he could almost hide his sawn-off shotgun. The long working hours, the heavy manual labour and the almost constant lack of privacy were the main downsides. It would be quite the endeavour to hide the little box without the rest of his gang noticing. When he looked back up, Lars could see that Willis was already checking the room, trying to see if anyone had picked up on the switch. Lars joined him and scanned the room thoroughly according to the screening patterns Horrigan had taught them. But it seemed the barfight had served well as a distraction.
"Almost time to split." Willis said, although Lars mostly understood by reading his lips as the noise of shattering glass and breaking furniture drowned out all the other sounds. "Found it during a raid on a noble's estate. With a connection to one of Orinoca's houses, Plutarch. Seems like the heir is deep in this crap." Lars only nodded. The local enforcers would soon arrive to separate the warring parties. A conclusion the other, more shady customers of Gustav had also come to as most of them were making their way out of the bar. Both men stood up and Lars grabbed the other man by the wrist. A gesture Willis answered. Lars looked the other man in the eyes. "The Emperor will provide Walther. I have every confidence in Him and you. Find the skitbag and bring him to the judge. I could definitely use you by my side for this, my friend."
It might have been the poor lighting in the bar, but Lars could swear that the words reached the other man as the look Willis gave him as they let go of each other's wrist was nothing like the one he had seen when they had first met at the bar. Lars turned around and ducked under a thrown clay mug as he waded through the mass, making his way back to his crew and his ship.
"I won't let you down, my friend." Willis whispered as Lars disappeared into the cold night.
+++5.905.986.M41+++
+++Orinoca, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++
+++Gaelian Star - lower enginarium+++
Lars stepped out from under the improvised shower his crew had been using for the last few weeks. Somewhere higher up in the Enginarium some pipes must have burst and they had started leaking cooling water. Henriksen, one of the brighter members of the workgang, had determined that the water had a better temperature and was significantly cleaner than whatever was used for the communal showers at the crew's quarters. So, the gang leader, Magnus, had said that they could use it instead for as long as the techpriests continued to pump fresh water into the cooling system. Lars started to dry himself off, getting ready to make planetfall.
It had taken the best part of three months to reach Orinoca and Lars thanked the Emperor every day for that, because it was a stroke of luck that they had made port here. Although his investigation aboard the Gaelian Star had seemed promising to begin with - Lars had found evidence enough that Magnus was into the amulet business up to his neck - the actual connections remained out of sight. The piece of information Willis had dug up was far more promising. But to look into the business he had to reach the Orinoca system first. And make planetfall. Which he was preparing for now. After his shower, which would - even with the pure water - would only leave him marginally more clean, he'd have to get hold of his weapons & cash and make his way to the surface of the hive world. Lars was just about ready to leave for the hiding place of his equipment, when he was brutally disturbed by the gang leader.
"So, Christianson. Trying you luck getting off the old tub, are you?" Lars tried not to look startled, but Magnus had a way of sneaking up on his crew members. A quality that made him such an effective overseer, thought Lars, but also one that made it all the more risky to keep this cover. Lars would be able to jump ship at every port they arrived at, but if he would be made in transit, things might not go too well for him. "Of course chief. I'm surprised you won't give it a go." But Lars had build a solid relation with the overseer. The fact that they both shared some genetic similarities and that they both had worked at the Harland docks on Rexon had been a boon for establishing trust. Plus, Lars had shown himself easy to handle, keeping his complaints mostly for himself and volunteering occasionally for the more shitty jobs down here.
"We'll be docked here for at least a week, Lars. I'll try my chances tomorrow. It'll be far less crowded in the shuttles. You never know if those flight crews won't overload and drop out of the sky, you know. Hah." Lars had kept his first name, something which made it a lot easier to play your role. Frank had thought him that answering to your name is one of the more persistent reflexes a man picks up during the years. Only the Emperor knew how many agents had been made by making a mistake like that. And the Administratum of course. Provided they could dig up the data themselves. "So, any good spots that I should hit here? Haven't been here before, chief. Where are you going?" Lars asked. For a moment, Lars could see how a frown formed between Magnus's heavy brows, but it disappeared almost immediately. But to Lars it had been a telling sign that the man was about to lie or cover something up. "Orinoca, Lars, has everything a sailor far from home would want. I suppose the flyboys will hit hive Bora. There used to be a place on the southern flank called Uwahara. The girls were clean there, but they also knew how to get one dirty, if you're catching my drift. I might be going there." Magnus replied. Lars was pretty sure that if he would chose to be in the company of Uwahara's girls, he wouldn't be seeing Magnus anytime soon.
'He's probably meeting up with a supplier or a large customer, Akira.'
But at this point, there wasn't much Lars could do. Tracking down one of Magnus' suppliers would be progress, but he had to take the opportunity to go after the Plutarch connection. Spreading heretical trinkets among ship hands definitely qualified for attention of the Adeptus Arbites, but such things spreading among the nobility scored way higher on the priority list. Arthur had learned him that you always had to take into account the multiplier effect: "A heretic is a heretic, Lars. Bashing in his skull is always a plus. But by bashing the right heretic you'll achieve more than just randomly picking skulls to crash. I don't have to explain that a low-level ganger can cause far less problems than a PDF general, right?"
Lars smiled at the foreman. "Thanks for the advice chief. I'll be mentioning your name if I manage to stop by. Perhaps I could score a discount." Lars said cheerfully.
But with a mean looking smile, the other man replied, "Better not Akira. Don't think they quite enjoyed my last pass." Almost immediately, Lars returned Magnus' smile with his own wicked grin. Frowning upon his implied bad behaviour wouldn't exactly be beneficial for staying on Magnus' good side. "Just make sure you get back aboard on time Lars. I'd hate to have to keep your pay from the last two months!" The crew only got paid after they left the system. It was one of Magnus' little rules. It definitely made sure that, contrary to others, his crew almost always was complete when they left. And officers didn't mind, because sailors with cash were far more interesting in the gambling pits than those that had burned through their money at the last stop. Lars left for the locker room, stalling for time until he was sure Magnus would have left. Although they saw eye to eye, Magnus hadn't tried to include Lars into his little scheme. Which meant he didn't trust him enough yet. Chances were that Magnus had deliberately checked on him.
After ten minutes of rummaging through his locker, Lars headed out of the lower enginarium, apparently heading for the flight decks of the ship. He took some back tunnels to make sure he wasn't being followed. He hadn't gotten this far in the game by cutting corners. Even though he hadn't caught a glimp of Magnus, or one of his cronies for that matter, when he came out of the lockerroom, he wasn't taking any chances. Hearing only his own footsteps in the empty corridors, Lars felt satisfied and he diverted to one of the lower decks, the one containing the promethium reserves for the ship's lighters. Lars had picked that deck in particular to hide his gear as it stank like nothing else and therefore wasn't used as a gambling pit or hiding place. Apart from the ventrats and the occasional rigger, nobody visited that deck. In an abandoned pipe, Lars found his equipment waiting. His trusty Pugnatis autopistol, an armoured bodyglove, a vox capter, a few packs of thrones and finally the Alpha pass with his biometrics. The leather pouch the pass was in had been ripped and torn and he'd put it in another pipe. Being made by your badge was another one of those easy mistakes for someone undercover.
Four hours and an inconvenient trip down later, Lars found himself on Bora's spaceport. Without much thought he mingled with the local populace and disappeared in one of the many lightning car stations, putting as much distance between him and his fellow crew mates as possible.