Penny

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

I sat up, head spinning and eyes burning despite Kian's attempt to shield me from whatever he had done. I hadn't had much experience with priests or magic in the past and I was beginning to see why people found it so unsettling. The rooms we found ourselves in would have been gorgeous if not for the fact that we shared them with half a dozen bodies.

"Myrmidia's tits," I cursed, grasping for a sword I had lost in our little tumble. The bodies were stuck with crossbow bolts or rent with swords.

"Wait aren't these..." Kian began.

"The Luccini delegation," I agreed in a shocked whisper. It was one thing to kidnap an ambassador from the far of Empire, Karl Franz might send remonstrances, even protestations, but he wasn't going to send an army. Luccini on the other hand was just as willing to fight for its honor as any other city state in Tilea.

"I don't see..." I began, but before I could finish there was a crash as the door to a wardrobe flew open and the Luccini ambassador came out slashing wildly with a rapier. I cursed and ducked sideways, tripping on a body and landing on my rump. The wild eyed man was half naked, dressed only in silk undergarments. He slashed down at me and I rolled sideways, kicking his legs out from underneath him. He went down in a pile and I rolled on top of him.

"Your excellency! We aren't assassins!" I declared, pinning the struggling man down until he ceased his efforts.

"You aren't with Romeo then?" the Luccinian demanded.

"Honestly," I replied sitting back, "I'm not really sure who we are with anymore."

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

Jocasta grinned as she worked the controls, slaloming gracefully between towering antennae and the stream of other speeders. Normally in interstellar space there were light seconds between objects, but here there was an immediacey of maneuver that got her heart pounding. She feathered the throttle and slid between two skyhooks, large expensive habitats for the rich and powerful that hung from the supports of the outer dome. Access was purely through spacecraft which added to the exclusivity.

"I could eat," Jocasta agreed as she pitched the flyer into a steep dive. It was at that moment she noticed two speeders behind her doing the same. Frowning she made a series of turns and was chagrined to discover that both speeders continued to follow her. Tails. There was always an outside chance these were Haegemony headhunters here for her, but the odds were very good that other hunters were after Neil.

"Something wrong?" Neil asked.

"Someone is following us," Jocasta replied.

"Any chance you boosted a few speeders or something and a few locals are here to settle a score?"

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

There was a final moment of tension and then the Imperials seemed to relax. I had to admit they were a tough looking crew, they lacked the strut and swagger of proper Condottieri, but the certainly looked like they could handle themselves. I peeled back the curtains and looked out over the city. Smoke was rising in several places, a sure sign that the fighting extended beyond the palace.

"These were Marco's men," I announced, to the general surprise of everyone in the room. It was a pretty typical reaction from millitary men, they were normally hypnotized by the tits and hips and any use they imagined for my mouth didn't involve speaking. The fact they had no idea who had taken their ambassador or where they might look for him also hadn't occured to them.

"Meaning what?" Kian asked, holding a hand up to stop the troops from marching out. I drew a deep breath.

"Meaning that Marco dosen't have your Ambassador, or he wouldn't be sending people looking for him, and he wouldn't be sending people looking for him if he didn't need him for something. Probably he has already seized the gold your Emperor Frank sent and he needs your ambassador to ratify that HE is the ruler of Remas and thus the gold is his," I explained speaking very slowly as though to children. Kian coughed.

"You were... speaking Tilean there," he told me and I coughed with embarassment.

"Who do you think took him then?" Kian asked, smoothing saving me from having to repeat the whole thing.

"Well, by process of elimination it has to be one of the other Triumirs," I continued in Riekspiel.

"They probably want him as a hedge against Marco," I told them. I didn't mention they might kill the ambassador and try to hang the whole thing on Marco. I doubted it. It wasn't the way of Remas politics to forclose an option so soon but one never knew. If Marco's coup was going to be successful then the Ambassador was a powerful barganing chip.

"What should we do then?" Muller demanded.

"You should defend this wing," I advised, "the ambassador is useful, but the rest of you are witnesses. So long as you hold here though you have leverage. One party or the other will have to deal with you."

"Why here, there are better places to fort up surely?" Muller demanded. That was true, the gatehouses and the citadel were literal fortresses.

"Once you are out of the palace, it will be too easy to barricade you out, plus they will be able to say you ran away and they had to 'save' your ambassador," I explained.

"Listen bitch we don't run away from..." Muller flared.

"I run away all the time," I cut him off, "but the right move now is for me to go and figure out where your ambassador has gotten off to."

Muller looked at Kian arching an eyebrow in question. The priest nodded his agreement.

"Alright boys, fan out, knock some of this fancy furniture over and build some barricades, start barring windows. Krieger, take a couple of lads and raid the kitchens, lets not make it easy starve us out," the old veteran barked. I leaned close to Kian as soldiers began tramping this way and that.

"If I'd sucked your cock last night, you'd be ready to swear I was Shyalla returned," I whispered.

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

Jocasta smiled, charmed in spite of herself by Neil’s brash enthusiasm. She wondered just what he might have done that someone was willing to throw down several million credits to ruin his day. She resisted the urge to think of him as a harmless local, such things had gotten her into trouble before.

“Sure,” she giggled, “a Callisto might suit, let’s see what you have.” They left out the front door pursued by inarticulate cries from the shop owner. Neil took her hand and lead her through a hanger past a series of ships in various stages of disrepair. Some of them looked like junkers, others looked like they were worth a small fortune. Clearly the shop didn’t discriminate when it came to clientele. None of the ships was large enough to be jump capable and Jocasta smiled, wondering what Neil would make of the Dragonfly. She scolded herself for the thought, he was going to get a look at the Dragonfly very soon, though spending a week in her little brig probably wasn’t going to endear him to the ship.

“What do you think, Callisto Mark III,” Neil said, pulling away a greasy cover cloth with a dramatic flourish. The ship beneath was sleek and shaped like a fluted arrowhead with a long projecting bow and short stubby wings. It was painted with green and gold racing stripes of which Jocasta heartily approved.

“Whoa,” she said. Neil nodded and grinned.

“We don’t only deal in clapped out junkers,” he agreed, slapping the canopy release to make the cab retract with a smooth hiss. Jocasta climbed in and turned on the power. It really was a nice model.

“You know how to fly one I take it?” Neil asked.

“Sure do,” she replied, patting the passenger seat, “hop on in, need to make sure I dont steal it.”

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

Ten thousand credits for fuel. Fourteen thousand credits to replace lateral fuel unit number two. Six thousand credits for nav updates. Five thousand credits assorted bribes. Nineteen credits for lunch. That last purchase at least seemed to be paying off Jocasta thought as she munched on some kind of crispy fried tuba. The server claimed they were potatoes from earth, but then you couldn't swing a dead Venusian lizard in Prime Sol without people crying that it was genuine earth whatever. The cost of the meal did underscore her immediate problem however. Money. She had come to Sol chasing Gorban Fleck, only to find that he had managed to get himself run over by a ground car. There was something funny about an interstellar serial killer getting himself pancaked on the strip in front of a casino on Titan. It was less funny that the bounty on him was for live capture, and now nearly two million in credits was gone into a food reprocessor.

Jocasta was broke, and Prime Sol was a bad place to be broke, everything this close to the old homeworld was expensive and it was a long way out to more profitable sectors like the Neo-caliphate or the Hanseatic quadrant. She had sunk her last few credits into repairs to her ship and if she left now she was going to arrive wherever she went without a cred to her name. Sighing she tossed the paper packet which had held the allegedly earth grown tubers into the trash and sipped the last of her caffeinated pollen. It prickled and stung at the back of her throat and she smiled with the simple pleasure in spite of the straits she was in. She was about to stand up when one of her little dragonfly drones flitted down to her, curving around the disreputable looking patrons of the Soak Stack. It attempted to land on the table, underestimated how greasy the compressed plastic table top was, and skittered and slid across the table to crash into Jocasta's arm. She arched her eyebrow as the little drone picked itself up with wounded dignity, scrubbing at itself with its rear set of manipulators.

"What is it?" Jocasta asked in a quiet voice. The little drone was worth a lot of money and she didn't want to draw attention to it. The drone stood up on four legs and pointed towards a man leaving a table. It pointed its nose like a hunting hound and made several jabs to indicate him. Jocasta peered at the man, he was tall and handsome in a rakish kind of way, or might have been if he wasn't covered in engine oil.

"Are you trying to find me a date?" Jocasta asked with an arched eyebrow. The drone pointed its projector into Jocasta's eye and a woman in hunters attire, complete with a racoon hat, appeared in her eye, a holographic image only she could see. A speech bubble appeared above the huntress as she gesticulated wildly.

"Neil Edwards. 4.5 Million. Wanted alive on Chronos."

Jocasta opened her eyes wide. Cygi, the artificial intelligence on her ship, was monitoring system wide traffic. She must have just caught the announcement of the bounty as it was beamed across the system. Cygi put her hands on her hips and made an imperious gesture in the direction this Edwards had gone.

"Ok, ok!" Jocasta agreed, standing up and heading out after Edwards. Her drone zipped ahead flying up and over the gangways above the concrete and steel canyon that made up this section of the station. It flashed for a moment before she lost it in the sea of neon signs advertising food, sex, cheap loans, and various other vices. A part of her mind followed its progress through a link to its visual feed, tucking it away until it flagged something interesting.

Jocasta sachet into the repair shop. She was dressed in a long coat with green and white check around the bust and a silvered metallic undersuit which she completed with glossy black combat boots. Her hair was currently a vibrant green, a result of an injection of molecular copper which she could use to alter the natural pigment of her hair, albiet at the cost of not being able to eat shellfish or asteroid mollusks for a few days.

"Hey there," she said conversationally, leaning forward to give Edwards the full effect of her outfit.

"I'm looking for something fast, care to take me for a test drive?" she asked.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

I don't know if you have ever tried to hide from a group of heretics while naked and painted with arcane sigils, but it isn't even as much fun as it sounds. I ducked through access ways and pipework, worming my way deeper into the decayed heart of the ancient machine. From what I had seen the heretics knew they had been made, judging by the fact they knew Hadrian's name, that was because they had been warned and not merely because their man had been killed. I dearly wished I were sifting through astropathic communiques rather than dodging las bolts in the underhive to find the answer. They were obviously burning the evidence of whatever it was they had been doing here, denying intelligence to Hadrian and the Ordos.

"Find the bitch and kill her!" someone shouted off to my left and I turned right, heading away from the sound as silently as I could, my shoulder blades itching for the las bolt I was certain they were about to collect. I heard activity up ahead of me and slowed my pace, peering out from the edge of a gangway into a vast open space. It took my mind a moment to realize it was a starship shuttle bay, though turned on its side when whatever ancient ship this was had crashed here. Dark fluids fell from above, making the air shimmer with rainbow refractions.

"Throne of Terra," I breathed as I realized that every ancient refueling line had been broken open and were currently spilling ancient prometheum down into the void below. All it would take would be a stray blast and this whole place was going to go up like the mother of all fireworks. I doubted the higher ups had bothered to inform their low level cultists about this face. A las bolt burst against the bulkhead beside me in a shower of sparks.

"She's on the shaft rail!" someone shouted. Praying their wild firing didn't touch off the waterfall of volatile petrochemicals I bolted up a nearby set of stairs, chased as I went by a stream of las bolts.

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

I could only watch in abject horror as the crossbowman fitted the bolt into his weapon, cocked it back and pointed it at Kian. Part of my mind, the part which kept track of shifting political currents was trying to determine if this were a coup by one of the Triumvirs. It was difficult to know who would have an incentive to murder an Imperial Ambassador, although perhaps framing someone for doing so might be a benefit.

"No!" I shouted and stepped forward as the crossbowman fired. I waved the sword in desperate negation and to everyone's evident amazement the bolt cracked into the blade and sent the weapon spinning from my hands, deflecting it away from Kian's chest. Everyone froze for a second to stare at the spectacle.

"That is enough luck for one day," the surviving spearman said, drawing back his weapon to thrust it at me now that I had no weapon. I danced aside as he thrust knocking the shaft sideways with my hips as I snatched up a marble bust of Myrmidia from the mantle and brought it around in a wide arc that crashed into the side of the spearman's helmet. He staggered back, dropping his weapon in a daze. I glanced around desperately for a weapon, and lunged for the dropped sword. The uninjured mercenary kicked it aside and struck me across the shoulders with the hilt of his sword, sending me tumbling to the ground. I hit hard and rolled onto my back, looking up as the mercenary stood over me raising his sword. I felt cold terror surge through my body, but before he could thrust home I saw his eyes widen. A figure leaped over the top of me, dressed in fine silk and carrying a ridiculously heavy broadsword.

"Le Dame!" Guy de Pounce shouted as he brought down his weapon in a great overhead blow. The mercenary brought up his slender weapon in an attempt to parry but the heavy Brettonian weapon knocked. The mercenary's arm, severed at the elbow dropped to the marble floor, fingers spasming around the hilt of his sword. Guy whipped his sword around in a figure eight which took the man's head from his shoulders. The surviving spearman turned and ran, casting away his weapon and leaping through a window, crashing into the shrubbery below. Guy glared after him, the tips of his thin mustache twitching with irritation as his nostrils flared.

"Cowardly zellswords," he sniffed as he wiped his blade clean on one of the fallen men's tunic.

There's Always a Price: Sci Fi Bounty Hunters

Jocasta had acquired several strings of beads by the time she reached the end of the first street, the glass ornaments clicking against each other atop her unbuttoned jacket. The mood of the crowd was festive though there were signs, a few overturned patrol cars and smashed store fronts, that suggested that high spirits took several forms. Makeshift bars had been set up, usually by piling liquor bottles atop ground cars or simply rolling barrels of ale out onto the street where one could simply scoop a cup of booze as one passed. Enough people were openly carrying guns to make Jocasta think that after a few more hours of drinking this place was going to be considerably more lively.

The place had the garish magnificence of an explosion in a bordello. The habs and shop fronts were colorcrete in attractive soft pastel shades, though poverty and lack of maintenance meant not two colors matched exactly. Some of them had awnings of pressed thermoplastic which were printed with patterns ranging from the simple geometrics to advertisements for beers and canned soups. Beyond that, ever structure was draped with whatever colorful articles the residents could find, dresses, bed sheets, rugs, clothing, even a flag though Jocasta couldn’t identify the world or organisation it might represent.

“Hey girlie have a drink with me,” a drunken man called to Jocasta, thrusting a bottle into her hand. She smiled and slid past his attempt to grope her, taking a polite pull from the neck of the fluted liquor bottle. It tasted strongly of passionfruit but must have been well north of fifty percent alcohol. She rounded a corner into a small square where the crowd was particularly energized.

“Vol! Vol! Vol! Vol!” they were chanting in a variety of tempos that blended together to uncomfortably remind Jocasta of an unstable warp field. She felt her heart sink as she heard the chant.

“Who is this Vol?” she asked a woman who had taken her top off completely, her impressive chest mostly obscured by strings of beads. The woman blinked in confusion and then brightened.

“He is a hero!” she burbled drunkenly before throwing her arms around Jocasta.

“He stole millions from some crimelord and just gave it away,” she snickered.

“Everyone on the level got like ten thousand credits,” she said in a tone of stunned wonder.

“They cops came to try and take it back but…” she made a gesture towards one of the smashed patrol cars with a champagne bottle.

“Where is this hero now?” Jocasta asked.

“D’know,” the woman chirruped, “Staying out of sight I guess.” The woman frowned at Jocasta, apparently having caught a glimpse of one of the little drones concealed beneath her jacket, but too drunk to be sure.

“Rumor is that assassins will be coming to kill him… we arent… going to let that happen,” she hiccuped drunkenly.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

I sat in the cell, disliking the greasy feel of the borrowed cloak. I opened it and rubbed at the glyph on my right breast, the paint remained stubbornly in place. I scratched more enthusiastically but the pigment was bound tight. I would need solvent to remove it, or perhaps to literally scrape my skin away to disrupt them. I looked around the room for something that might do the job but nothing jumped to mind. Perhaps I could break the flakboard desk and use a fragment of it. I cut my eyes to the door and saw two gangers watching me through the bars.

"Priest told you to read," one of the gangers said, though he seemed as intereted in trying to get a look under my cloak.

"So did my scholam marm but here I am," I responded acidly. I picked up the scroll and tapped it on the tabletop.

"Read," the ganger growled. I glanced at the scroll, wondering why they were so interested in it. Whatever it was I wasn't eager to follow the script.

"You going to come in here and make me?" I demanded.

"I'm going to come in there and do something to you," he threatened. I lifted the scroll as though I was going to open it, then ripped it in half. The ganger shouted and ripped the door open, lifting a truncheon as he stalked into the room. I kicked the desk at him as he came. Sneering he dogdged aside, baring his teeth in a snarl. I dived under the table, rolling between the legs and out the door. The second ganger grabbed at me and seized a handful of my cloak. I let go of the cloak and bolted, running naked down the gangway and deeper into the guts of the giant machine. Shouts of alarm rang behind me. I was gambling that they wouldn't shoot me, which was a hell of a thing, but it beat waiting in a cell for whatever they had in store for me. I skidded around a girder and ran into a slender ganger with an autogun, he bounced back then swept the butt of his weapon at me. I twisted sideways and plunged off the edge of the gangway with a scream. I tumbled through empty air for a heatstopping second the crashed into a network of cables. I made a desperate grab and got hold of a handful of greasy cords arresting my fall into a palm burning slide. I crashed onto a lower level and scrambled to my feet, bolting away along a line of pylons. A moment later I reached an open hatch big enough to admit a rhino. I ducked through into a large cathedral like vault that had been filed with machinery. Dozens of gangers with flamers were down on the main floor, each of them had a flamers and were in the process of hosing down some kind of machinary with gouts of prometheum. The whole place stank of burning petrochemicals and hot metal. As I watched a ganger with a mallet came forth and struck one of the burned machines with his weapon. It shattered into shards of hot metal.

"What the frak?" I asked, then ducked into an alcove as I heard shouting gangers rushing down metal access stairs.

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

I sat up in shock, pulling the sheets up around my breasts as my eyes widened in shock. Had Kian just incinerated a man? The room stank of burning flesh and fingernails. I could hear distant shouts and cries and what I thought might be the clash of arms. My eyes widened as my sleep addled mind ran through a number of unpleasant scenarios. Before I could respond a man in a leather jerkin appeared in the doorway. He hefted a crossbow in both hands, lifting it to aim at me and, less importantly, Kian. I rolled sideways knocking Kian off the bed as a crossbow bolt whistled overhead and buried itself into the headboard with a crack of splitting timber. I landed on top of Kian and rolled off, scooping up the sword of the fallen assailant. The crossbowman saw me and abandoned his effort to reload his clumsy weapon. I lunged across the room, completely naked, and thrust the bloody point of the weapon into the crossbowman's chest. He screamed and reeled back, the leather vest absorbing all but an inch of steel. Gritting his teeth, the assassin slashed at me with a heavy knife. I skipped back out of range and kicked the hilt hard, driving the weapon deep into his body. Bloody fountained from his mouth as he staggered back clutching the sword feebly before toppling to the ground.

"Something has people in a tizzy this fine morning," I answered, though I privately doubted it was anything to do with Kian. I stuck my head out into the hallway and saw two men in mercenary leather kicking at the door of ambassador's room. The wood was already begining to splinter. I ducked back into the room, my eyes wide. Whatever was going on here it wasn't a private affair, something was seriously wrong. I ducked back into the room and grabbed the sword, tugging at it with all my strength. It was stuck fast in the suction of his chest and I had to give it up as a bad bargin. I could hear feet pounding up the steps.

"We probably have about a minute before they break down your ambassador's door, and maybe about as long before they come in here and try to kill us," I reported, my voice surprisingly steady.

"I hope your Sigmar is fond of you," I added.