Impatience

"Rychek. We want what you promised Rychek." Dead eyes stared out of the viewscreen. The voice was not menacing. It did not need to be.

"The humans are being... persistent. It would be unwise to proceed until they have calmed down."

"The humans are not our problem Rychek. It would be unwise to fail to deliver on your promises."

"Under protest I will make the arrangements."

"Protest or not. You will give us what you owe."

Arbites Command

By the time Kryn had made the necessary orders and transferred temporary operational command to Judge Anderson the Inquisitor's party had made itself thoroughly at home. When she entered the secondary command centre several additional cogitators had been blessed and the mixed smell of incense, burnt plastic and ozone suggested they had just begun operation. Two additional stormtroopers had arrived along with the two she had seen at the palace. They were trailing round after a techpriest their arms full of wires, and various esoteric equipment that the priest would occasionally reach for as it ran a device around the walls.

Ulrich was sitting meditatively in a corner. At her approach he rolled his shoulders and stood. When he opened his eyes there was no sign of the witchfire that had been so prevalent and his staff was resting against the wall like a broom waiting to be put away after cleaning.

"Marshal. Now we are past the formalities it is good to meet you." His voice was deep and rich, giving his words an almost theatrical quality. He reached out a hand and she shook it, the grip firm as expected from someone in power armour. She met his gaze unflinchingly. Her cold blue eyes taking in the measure of his, irises so dark they were almost black.

"Tarik says you are unconvinced by our reasons for being here." When she made no response Ulrich shrugged. "The population estimates are not the whole reason but they are a part of it. Tell me when was the last time the black ships came to Tetran?"

Kryn paused for a moment to think. "Long before my time, I am really not sure."

"And how many psykers have you rounded up ready for their next appearance."

She blinked. Deep below the Bastion were a number of cells lined with psyk-unreactive stone and heavily warded. Almost all were empty. "I don't have the exact figure I can..."

"How many psykers were part of the last tithe for the ships?"

"I..."

"13" Sal supplied without looking up from the workstation she was at. "System population this size you would expect 350 to 500 pyskers to be born annually. Naturally there will be a delay before they manifest but that should average out."

Ulrich continued. "Not all would be picked up. Some would hide. Many would be so low grade that they may never know themselves that they are warpstruck and just be... lucky at cards, good at guessing what people think. Maybe simply getting intuitions that they put down to a blessing of the Emperor or happenstance. But your cells should have several hundred individuals in them right now with you screaming for aid in getting them off planet. Do they?"

"No."The Marshal shook her head. "I am not sure it's even in double figures. How did I not notice. You will have my resignation..."

"If and when we deem it necessary." Ulrich smiled, not unkindly. "A system this size would usually have a permanent inquisitorial presence for that reason if no other. You may be interested to know that of the 13 picked up in the last time the Black Ships arrived sweep 6 were inhabitants of one of the off-world stations, 2 were fugitives hiding from a purge on Gethan, 3 were unsanctioned individuals brought from other systems for a variety of reasons and the 2 actually born on a Tetran planet were children of first or second generation immigrants. That was 3 centuries ago. The Black Ships have never returned"

"So where are the psykers?"

"There are..." Sal began then looked towards Ulrich who shook his head. "We have theories." she finished.

"One of which is that I am incompetent – or actively involved?" Kryn asked without rancour. It would have been her first suspicion in their place.

"The Adeptus Arbites are trained to be incorruptible, and never posted anywhere near their home or training worlds. The number of psykers supplied to the black ships dropped progressively over a period of millennia. Over that time marshals and ruling dynasties have come and gone. One corrupt marshal. Maybe. A millennium's worth?" He waved a hand dismissively. Kryn agreed. While not totally incorruptible the Arbites were as close to it as any existing Imperial organisation. "How many Chaos cells have you broken up?"

"We've found no evidence of cult activity on Tetran or any of the off-world stations." She responded.

"And you didn't find that strange?"

"Not until now, we're a long way from the rift."

"Your recent focus. The Goblin street gang. Why them?" Ulrich asked.

"They control the territory around Zander Falls. It is the nearest major dwelling to the largest PDF base on the planet. It's the initial muster point for all conscripts from the primary hive and has a standing garrison of 40,000 regulars training ten times that many raw recruits. Any of them with short term passes will make a beeline for Zeef, it's the only place they can really get to. It is potentially one of the most lucrative criminal territories on the planet."

"So they supply alcohol, drugs, girls, boys?"

"That's just it. No."

"Huh?" The interjection came from Tarik who seemed startled. He looked at the other equally puzzled storm troopers. "There's no recreation?"

"Oh there's plenty, every other building in Zeef is either a bar or brothel. But the Goblins are not shaking any of them down. No one is paying protection money. If any are owned outright by the Goblins then they are keeping it very well hidden and you would expect them to act against those that they didn't own. They make sure no one supplies anything stronger than obscura to troops, but they are not even taking a cut of the narcotic market as best we can tell."

"You have some very law abiding criminals."

"To a point. Several other gangs have tried to take the territory, set up protection rackets or deal on their turf. Every time the Goblins respond with lethal effect and resulting massacre convinces the interlopers to back off. We did think it might be some sort of officially backed group. Maybe a front for the procs or PDF higher ups keeping their troops clean, so far we found nothing."

"Procs?"

"Protectors – local law enforcement. So either the Goblins are a front, in which case someone is trying to take the law into their own hands, or they want everything quiet so no one investigates where they really make their money."

"Which would be?"

"The PDF base has two things that could be lucrative. A large supply of high grade weaponry, and the ability to send ships into orbit avoiding all the routine security sweeps. And that's about as far as we had got. We had a lead on a potential safe house."

"And the plan was?"

"Infiltrate, data extract. If they have a contact in the PDF that could be a real threat. When we know who, smash the gang, execute the traitors go after the next target."

"I suppose if a Marshal is going to get involved with petty gangs at least you are being efficient about it." Tarik shrugged and wandered over to where Sal was looking through data on her console. Feeling like she'd been dismissed in her own command post Kryn sought to regain the initiative.

"You asked why no one else focused on stopping trouble getting out of hand. They deal with food riots, we have two agriworlds a train ride away and the system overall exports food. They deal with oxygen riots and failing infrastructure. We're attached to a forge world which produces more than we need and takes every scrap of industrial waste and turns it into goods, the agri worlds take all biological waste and turn it into fertilizer. Most manufacturing takes place on Tetran II which has an inexhaustible need for labour so there is virtually no unemployment. Not to mention the number of recent guard foundings that take in the hotheads and troublemakers. Separatists are few and far between and easily dealt with as we have a standing PDF of 35 million and usually at least 2 Imperial Guard regiments in system at any one time recruiting or readying for deployment. The usual causes of dissent aren't there. Neither are the usual dissenters."

"And the xenos and chaotic threats?"

"Xenos. Not much to speak of. A few ork remnants in the asteroid belt and the occasional sighting in the wilderness, stragglers from the Orkfall maybe. Chaos... there just hasn't been anything."

Ulrich looked up eyes burning again. "The rift split the Imperium in two, planets rise in rebellion, yet this system and those surrounding it have seemingly avoided even a ripple from the storms engulfing us. Warp travel is unaffected and the chaotic hoards are elsewhere. How lucky for you."

"You think it is more than the blessing of the Emperor?"

Ulrich and Tarik shared a look that seemed to suggest a thousand previous conversations on the subject. The moment was broken by an incoming call alert.

"I thought you were off the case Marshal." Ulrich growled.

"I am." Kryn replied grabbing her data slate. "Oh. It's the Mortiurge: Zac Totiem has direct access to senior commanders. Comms must have re-routed just the standard traffic."

Ulrich frowned at that. "Inefficient. Answer it."

Kryn hit the respond key and the Mortiurge's gruff tones echoed out.

"Mission accomplished. 4 fatalities. Documents uploaded, they are shifting huge amounts of money via various front companies. No sign of where that cash is coming from though. Retrieved a high security data slate. Ports epoxied shut and mil-spec encryption."

Tarik exchanged another look with Ulrich. "Sal how long until you have something for us?"

The savant looked around disapprovingly. "As you have not even given me any parameters to define my searches... General planet overview, plus basic population statistical comparison – 24-36 hours solstan."

"So if the Marshal, Magos Cormack and I went to do a little investigating..?"

"The lack of questions would speed my studies up by a few minutes."

Ulrich shrugged. "As you wish. Do you want to take any of the troopers?"

"I assume the Marshal will be bringing her men along. That should prove more than sufficient."

The rhino troop transport was cramped. Designed for 10, the extra two bodies made it an uncomfortable fit. Two more transports were following close behind. Flyers could have made the journey from the main hive in less than an hour, but the restricted airspace around the PDF base would have forced the Marshal to request clearance. As the working assumption was that PDF officers were in league with the Goblins there was too high a risk of their target being tipped off. Hence the six hour drive, staying off the main routes to maximise the chance of a stealthy intercept. Chafing at the slow progress Kryn watched the inquisitorial pair through her combat visor. The Magos had pulled down the hood of his full length cloak, naturally coloured the typical Martian red, and was doing a slow and thorough sweep of the interior of the rhino. Examining every rivet and seam. Under that hood he initially appeared to be a young man wearing a steel domino mask, with a steel tiara keeping his long brown hair back from his face. It was only with more careful observation that one would notice the mask was embedded slightly into the skin with a red glow suggesting the eyes underneath were working in more than the usual wavelengths. The tiara likewise appeared an affectation, but subtle hints suggested it was wired behind his ears to act as some sort of additional sensory booster and was a permanent fixture. The effect was almost artistic – very unusual in the typically function obsessed Cult Mechanicus. Tarik had settled in beside him and had almost immediately gone to sleep. He was wearing a light padded open face helmet that appeared similar to the Cadian standard, but with insignia that Kryn did not recognise. Over his dusty coveralls were tan plates, covering his torso, thighs and shins with additional ones on his forearms and shoulders. It left him with near full armour at the front, but with his joints exposed, presumably a trade-off between weight, mobility and protection that he was happy with in a fire fight. A pair of blades were in wrist sheathes their handles by his palms and the end of the blades exposed and extending a little past the elbow. Along with his pistols and no doubt some hidden hold out weapons he seemed well prepared for combat.

"We'll reach the rendezvous in 2." Her helmet radio hissed and she roused herself.

"Talons 2 and 3 stay back and be ready to give covering fire. Any visual on Hawk?"

"No obvious weapon or life signs."

The rhino slowed in front of a large derelict factory. Behind it the other two pulled up, blocking the road and training their storm bolters on the meeting area. Before the first rhino had fully stopped the ramp opened and the Marshal and her squad piled out setting up a quick defensive cordon around the transport. The rockcrete building they had arrived at was almost featureless besides a pair of gigantic aircon units and a rusted, half-collapsed water tower.

"Clear" repeated over the vox as the arbitrators scanned their assigned quadrants. A moment later Tarik and the Magos descended the ramp.

"No sign of Hawk." Kryn reported.

"Other than over by the water tower you mean?" Tarik asked nodding towards the structure. What seemed to be just another rusted beam moved. The Mortiurge almost seemed to shimmer into vision. His tatty cloak thrown over one shoulder almost concealing an absolution pattern sniper rifle. The carapace underneath so dusty and battered it seemed to merge into the background.

"Nice work Rennal – you just got half of us killed by sniper fire. Don't report clear until it is fracking well clear." Kryn snarled angry at the lapse in security.

Totiem sauntered over to the arbites group, took in the Martian robes Cormack wore and threw the dataslate he had recovered to the Magos who caught it with one hand. What appeared to be metallic gloves shifted as small mecha-dendrites slid out from the other wrist, tiny manipulators burning out and removing the epoxy that filled the data ports.

"Hmm. Gene-reader, still traces from its last sample." A further dendrite extended skimmed the reader and then withdrew quickly into Magos Cormack's forearm. "Generating sample match."

"You can fool a gene reader?" Kryn asked alarmed.

"Given this planets dependence on them, it would have been negligent to arrive unable to do so. All blessings to the Omnissia for the wisdom of foresight." A standard data link extruded from the other wrist and he plugged it into the cleared data port. "Accessing... wait one... full encryption, requiring passcode and genesample." He stared at the front of the screen his eyes glinting. "Marginal additional wear on the screen at 5 points suggests likely alphanumerics used in passcode, possible repeats. No standard high gothic word match. Low gothic – 'chain' most likely match, but there is a high probability of a function to delete the data if there are more than a set number of failed attempts."

"Chichani." Kryn responded after a moment's thought. In answer to the puzzled looks of the off-worlders. "It's the local name for the mountain. She gestured. At this distance the tips of the city's hive stacks were still visible, 4 kilometres high and 20 round at the base they would have towered over all but the highest natural mountains on most planets. But here they were dwarfed into insignificance by the dark grey of the pillar they surrounded. Though the pillar itself was the same diameter all the way along its length there were enough structures built around its base and on the first few kilometres of its length to make it appear to taper like any other mountain. But perspective narrowed it to the diameter of a thread as it rose out of the atmosphere, dragging your eye up to the impossible bulk of Tetran II that appeared to be poised to fall and obliterate all underneath.

"Seems a bit, simple..." Tarik began.

"The gene code is the security, the passphrase just to ensure you haven't got access to the corpse of an authorised user. No doubt there is another phrase that will automatically delete everything on the drive should its owner be subjected to torture or the like." Cormack's mecha-dendrites never stopped flittering around the device. "I'm in. Accessing stored data. Decrypting in progress... inloading."

"Can you get a location for the gangs leader?"

"Reviewing most recent activity. Delivery to take place in 2.3 solstan hours. 93% chance of high level gang member presence in addition to PDF contacts. Sending location to your slate Marshal."

She looked intently as the slate focused on yet another nondescript warehouse an hour away. After a moment of studying the map she barked out her orders.

"Talon 2, your entry point is here, cover the tunnels here,.." Kryn indicated on her slate the most likely escape points, the highlighted points automatically copying themselves to the team leaders. "here and here. Talon 3 I want a perimeter up high on the neighbouring buildings, no one gets out above ground. Mortiurge, take point. Take down any overwatch positions they have then you're sniper cover over the main doors."

"Shouldn't I come in with the assault force."

"I want to find out what is going on and it's much easier to interrogate someone if they are still alive."

He nodded and turned to walk away.

"You have transport."

"Yes. Faster and less conspicuous than an APC. Give me a 30 minute start to get into position. I'll have to ditch it at least a couple of blocks from the warehouse."

"Magos Cormack and I will go in with the main force." Tarik stated. Kryn pulled a face behind the concealment of her visor, but made no comment. Being overruled by inquisitorial authority in front of her men was not going to help the situation.

"OK, all squads, you have 30 minutes, stretch your legs make yourselves ready. Then we're going in."