I would have lost him if it had not been for the shoots, first a volley then a single shot. I wondered what that might mean, an ambush followed by an execution? With the confusing way shots echoed in these close confines I couldn't tell. The tunnels were growing older, more dilapidated as the city above pressed down more firmly. It was evident from the increase in inspouts that we were passing beneath the more populated areas and away from the exclusive playground of the rich and powerful. I had been a deperssing number of such places, even so early in my career. The Inquisition really should consider adding a course in Imperial Sanitation to the Adept curriculum, it would be very useful and have the added benefit of humbling those who get above themselves.

I was in rough shape. The fight with the arbites had taken a lot out of me, more than physically there was a spiritual tiredness that made my head hang and my footsteps drag. I was certain that Edwards had given me the slip until passed the bodies of a half dozen slain men, cultists I judged them, having run afoul of Edwards in his flight. That gave me some pause, I had considered him a thief but this clear evidence of violence made me second guess that assumption. Before my still groggy mind could think on this I heard voices ahead and slowed to a stealthy creep. Reaching an archway I peered out to see Edwards climbing down to converse with an abhuman that carried quite the largest rifle I had ever seen. I ducked back, trying to force my mind to consider next steps, when a new voice sounded below.

"Evening gents," it called and I peered through to see an older man stepping from the darkness. He was wearing a coat of vitrian glass and held a heavy Hecutor Tundra Falcon in his left hand. It was a seriously hardcore pistol, capable of punching holes in even light armored vehicles. Some gun slingers favored them for the flashiness of a high calibre but the recoil was ruinous if you had to fire more than a single shot.Edwards seemed to recognise him and lowered his weapon.

“Did you get it?” the newcomer asked. Edwards flashed a smile that lit the gloom and pulled the gemstone from his pocket.

“We got it Gantz,” he confirmed with a note of triumph in his voice. Gantz and the Halfling took a step forward to gaze at the shining jewel but as the drew near Gantz pulled a short punch dagger from his belt and drove it into the Halfling’s side. The abhuman let out a gurgling scream and fell to the ground, clutching at a red stain spreading over his tunic. Edwards blinked in confusion for a moment then went for his gun. He was fast but the momentary hesitation cost him and he found himself staring down the Hecutor’s yawning muzzle.

“Gantz! What the frak are…” the chamber lit with the roar of the hand cannon, and I had to squeeze my eyes shut to preserve my night vision. Edwards clutched at his face but Gantz had twitched the barrel aside at the last minute and it was just hot propellant which had spattered the thief.

“Shut the frak up!,” Gantz snarled his voice tiny in the cordite scented sewer air.

“Toss your gun into the shit, then throw me the jewel, do anything else and I plug you for real,” Gantz ordered. Edwards hesitated and Gantz sneered.

“Do it quickly enough and you might have time to save your little abhuman buddy,” he cajoled. Edwards’ eyes flicked to the Ratling who was laying on the ground writhing in pain. Id seen my share of wounds and I judged there was still time, though not much. Edwards came to the same decision and tossed his gun. It clattered over the flagstones then tumbled into the sewer flow with a plop.

“Why are you doing this?” he demanded of Gantz.

“You are a loser Edwards, you have a ship, a warrant of trade and what have you done with it?” The voice was thick with contempt. I could taste the sneer Gantz up into his words. The pieces fell into place as I realized Edwards must be a Rogue Trader, though not, apparently, a very successful one.

“Joy rides around the sector for insignificant little heists. It is pathetic. All that potential wasted, well no longer, things are going to be different when I am in command of the ship, now be a good boy and toss me the stone before the runt bleeds out. Even from this range I could see Edwards was measuring the distance and calculating his odds but he must have realized it was hopeless and tossed the gem underhanded to Gantz. The latter caught it with his right hand, the barrel of the pistol never wavering.

“Thank you, unfortunately I can’t let you live. New day and all…” Gantz drawled. There was a sharp crack and a red dot appeared on Gantz forehead. He looked perplexed for a moment before the blood ran down his face in a crimson sheet and he collapsed to his knees. The autopistol smoked in my hand and I was hardly conscious I had even fired. Gantz toppled over, his body sprawling as the jewel spilled from his twitching fingers, clattering across the stones towards the river of filth. Edwards dived after it, snatching it up a heart beat before it tumbled into the sewage flow. His momentum might have carried him into the sump but he managed to flip himself up right, plant his feet on the edge and leap over in a graceful bound.

“I’m coming out,” I called, Edwards had tossed his gun but he might very well have a back up piece, or even something exotic like a digi weapon if he really was a rogue trader. I stepped out into the open and crossed to the ratling. It was reaching feebly for the stock of its rifle which was just out of reach. Kneeling down I opened one of his webbing pouches and pulled out the guard issue aid kit within.

“This will sting,” I advised, then yanked the punch dagger free, pouring the sulfa powder over the wound before shoving a handful of gauze against it. It stained crimson immediately but the flow slowed from a gush to a trickle. 

“You might live if you quit squirming,” I admonished.