POOHEAD189

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

The squalid streets were as every other space in the under hive, speckled with obscene markings and brown, crusted spots spattered about at random. Refuse and trash were piled sometimes as high as a man while large, mutated rats and other creatures that had evolved to live down here rifled through them, sometimes scuttling over coats that held either sleeping or dead men. I was certain we, at least, wouldn't be spotted via smell as we slunk through the alleys following our quarry.

I moved stiffly, constantly placing a reassuring hand on my belly to make certain my bindings were tight and my armor was strapped tight around me. The pain was sometimes all-encompassing, though I would never admit it. Fortunately, my movements were more of my volition than necessity, merely to keep myself from bending over or getting to comfortable in a foul position to mitigate the wear and tear on my stitches and Selencia's hard work. Emmaline sometimes glanced my way, but never said anything. Every look made me stifle a sigh, my irritation of her unfounded, at least in this regard. Perhaps it was because I still felt somewhat inexperienced myself, despite my ascension from Interrogator almost six years ago. Old grievances died hard, and while I excelled in every area Kronus had groomed me in, being the youngest of the cadre for many years had instilled in me a distaste for anytime someone fretted over me during active service, even if it was completely understandable.

Our mark took its sweet time, the gangers harangueing one another and almost getting in a knife fight over a stimpack filled with narcotics, taking alternating routes I was certain were unnecessary. My inner compass was always keen, and Emmaline and Ortega also began to mutter on where the throne they were going to until finally they turned a corner into a wide multi-crossing street. We had just ourselves made it past the turn as the last ganger was skulking into a large, dented door of scrap metal. Outside a bouncer stood, a mutant considering he had four arms and a third eye open at the base of his neck.

We approached lazily, passing by a beggar who assailed us with pleas for creds before I snarled his way. The poor fellow crawled off on his belly and left the lane open for us to make it to the door.

"Never seens you scats before," The bouncer rumbled, its third eye blinking rapidly. "S'move on before toss a mad scene, ya skin?"

I wasn't too keen on the colloquialism, and it did not seem to be the norm for the entirety of the under hive, but it was similar to other dialects in the Imperium, particularly amongst mutants.

"Boss says s'feel moves here, just some blunts here to make slates for sally, read?" I responded in a grating, almost harsh whisper, and reached into my jacket to produce a few slates. "Give us a plate and we give the slate. Can't be runnin' off keys, ya fall, twist?"

The bouncer thought for a moment as he took the slates, his third eye halting its incessant blinking to examine the payment. There was a harsh, gutteral sound from his stomach and something roiled within there behind his stained top. If I had to guess (and hope) it was simply another, larger mouth. He gave a small "Read, read," before opening the door so we could enter. I held it open for Emmaline and once all three of us were in, our sense of smell was no longer assailed by excrement but obscura smoke and what passed for drinks in this sleazy underbar.

"Be on the lookout, and keep your profile low," I warned them, before descending down the dark steps into a room of dancing gangers, blaring music, and flickering lights that only enhanced the darkness of the shadows.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

The lower hive have various sections populated upon the surface of the hive city, generally on the outskirts of a base of the grater spire. The gaseous waste from the hive is usually released in said areas, but with proper equipment one could stand outside there and feel the wind against their skin and the heat or cold of the day, depending on what counts for seasons on the homeworld.

The under hive has no such luxury.

The structure of an under hive is made of several hab domes welded together with tunnels and shafts over a period of centuries, giving it a honeycomb-like structure within a vast cavern entirely underground. The interior of it is an immense, industrial-scaled cathedral of metal and decay, where machines the size of battleships have been abandoned in ages uncounted, though one would be hard pressed to find any difference between them and the makeshift structures made by desperate hands. Some rumor that some gangs worship those ancient machines that stand the test of time as ravenous gods, to which they sacrifice captives. A dome provides a wide open space, divided into zones of factories, houses, commercial buildings, and other structures. Between each dome, the maze of tunnels and shafts is the scene of bitter gangs wars and bloody raids. Varying tunnels with lifts are located around the greater area of the under hive, granting people with clearance access to and from the under hive, though there is little security on the bottom. Luckily most steer clear of the lifts, as the doors opening are just as likely to be a squad of arbites instead of unsuspecting prey.

I wore a large blue-black coat, wrinkled and torn with a winged collar framing my strong neck. My shoes were worn and my trousers were a drab brown, and plastered upon my face were prosthetics that gave the area around my left eyebrow a swollen look and a large jagged scar running across my face. I sported a wide brimmed hat to help cloak my features, regardless. Arbites Ortega had accepted my offer to accompany us, much to Emmaline's displeasure, but it took some convincing to the arbites to adopt similar costume and eschew his normal uniform, though he did wear his carapace armor under his jacket, as I did.

The lift shuddered and clanged concerningly, threatening to send us in an endless free fall down the clattering shaft at a moment's notice. The steel cables twining and singing as our lift ran through them. I merely breathed deep and held faith I hadn't survived eldritch xenos, chaos sorcerers, and a ruptured kidney to die in an elevator in the ass of a hive city. I clutched Emmaline to steady her, reinforcing my support for her idea.

Initially we had deliberated on making an assault, locating the most likely places were gangs met and with lighting tactics, cordoned off the area and make sure no one got in and out, leading to a lengthy process of interrogation. I was not in favor of this option, but Emmaline spoke up as an opposing voice and I supported it wholeheartedly. Incognito was a far better solution, even if it leads to a greater risk of ourselves. As the lift elevator grinded to a halt and opened up, spewing forth a rancid smell of sweat and decayed metal, I hoped we made the correct choice.

There's Always a Price: Sci Fi Bounty Hunters

"You'll find an opportunity to get scantily clad. You always do," Dirk remarked, a sardonic tone to his voice as he banked the dragonfly to the south. As they were still a team, Jocasta had given him a small run-down on the controls and navigation gear of the dragonfly and Dirk had picked up on it quickly. He had gotten his hands on numerous interplanetary ships in the past, the dragonfly was manueverable and its sub-light handling was a bit more sleek than most anything else he had flown, but it did not take long for him to put the familiar pieces together and get a feel for the controls he wasn't used to.

"I think you have her confused with me," her little AI said, popping up on the display in a bathing suit and a small hologram of a lounge chair behind her.

Dirk ignored it, sending the dragonfly in a nose dive, passing by rockcrete spires and antenna to wheel round into a lesser, dilapidated docking bay. Even from hundreds of meters away, one could see the various building materials the architects had to make do with to fit the pieces of the landing pads together. Small cybernetic service bots hobbled this way and that on the scrapped-together steel platforms as small freighters and planetary speeder vehicles zoomed back and forth through the air.

"So what's the plan?" Jocasta asked, making sure her weapon was locked and loaded. "Quick and messy or slow and sensual?"

"We'll need the lay of the land, first. If the information on the datasheets are correct, we're five floors above the habs this guy frequents, and if we want to make a quick getaway, we need to make sure we have a clear path back to the dragonfly. Let's find a service elevator."

"That doesn't seem very discreet..." She opined.

"The elevator would just get in the way. If we find one, we pry it open and I jet us up. No would could follow unless they had similar equipment, and I can handle that if it comes to it." He said, unstrapping his seat belt and getting ready to step out of the landing bay. From the window they could see the dockmaster waiting expectantly, no doubt there to squeeze them for every credit they were worth.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Selencia and Lazarus would fret this was far too much excitement for me, I thought sardonically, trying to find the humor in a situation where there was very little of it. Emmaline was frustrated, but she conceded and it helped me to breathe easily at least. I sat back in my wheel chair and nodded at her explanation. As much as I did not trust the methods, I did trust Emmaline, and it stands to reason if she truly put the man's spirit back into his body for a short time, it would be impossible for him to lie. Of course I had never performed such acts, but I knew of them. One could not be in the Ordo Malleus without knowledge of ritual, both sanctioned and heretical.

Jogar Carden, I catalogued the name in my head for later.

"It seems a bit obvious that an organization with such a name as Under Council would be dually located in an Under Hive. But it could be worth granting it a once over. Any heretical sects located below the lower hives would be hard pressed to get reported to any real authority. The fact the manufacturing facilities is on this level was likely the only reason we even found evidence of their presence in the first place." I was merely thinking aloud at this point, but it seemed to ease Emmaline, perhaps because I still deigned to share my thought process with her. Emperor help me, I was glad I still could as well.

"What about your recovery?" She asked, remaining detached in speech, though her eyes spoke she was still worried on my physical health.

"I will take a day to rest, no matter what Selencia cautions of me. This will grant Lazarus time to locate any information on this Jogar Carden if he is able. I want you to help with that, if there is anything you are capable of aiding him with. Perhaps not, but I need your...personable mind if it goes beyond a data-slate. After that, all of us will go below if we have no other leads." I raised my hand to halt any protests. "I can requisition certain stems that will allow me full mobility, and I can fit my carapace armor and bandages to keep myself from any further damage."

She gently placed a hand on my arm, and after a second's hesitation, I placed my opposite hand on hers and squeezed it. This whole situation was complicated, but it seemed that we could persevere through it. Perhaps we were right to pursue this...relationship. If we could handle near death, wrongful tortue, and necromantic rituals, maybe we could handle whatever else the galaxy threw at us.

I just hoped the Ordo saw it in such a light.

"You'll need to do one more thing, though you won't like it." I said, and she bit her lip awaiting the remark. "You did the most prudent thing at the time, and it seems there is no permanent damage, but if you haven't already, you should apologize to Arbites Ortega. Not because I believe you were not in your rights, but the Arbites are a prideful group, much like my own. We might require his help again."

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

My joy of being reunited with Emmaline could not be sundered by just physical pain. If I'm wounded, I know from experience that I'll end up getting hurt by her overeager nature, and despite myself I would not have it any other way. But to hear of this latest news caused a great anger to swell in me. I did not shout or balk after the first exclamation, but I closed my lips tightly and breathed through my nostrils as I attempted to keep a semblance of calm. Unfortunately, the two women could tell a mood shift had taken place.

"Hadrian..." Emmaline started, but I did not rise to answer her.

"Told you he wouldn't like it," Clara remarked to Emmaline.

"Clara?" I said.

"Yes sir?"

"Get out."

She started to open her mouth, but I looked at her. The guard captain moved so quickly, for a moment I thought I had inadvertently used my will. She was out of the office and closing the door behind us in the span of a second. It left the two of us in a silence that was more tension filled than awkward. I grabbed the small cane Lazarus had set upon my lap and tried to rise.

"Hadrian, don't. Let m-" Emmaline started, stepping forward to decide whether to help me up or to keep me in my seat. I'll never forget that moment. Not because it had any lasting effects, but it was the first time we had been at odds.

"Don't touch me." I ordered. She drew back, biting her full lip as the words fell into the air like a box of knives. She watched as I unsteadily got to my feet. It was only by my stubbornness and the mental discipline I had beaten into me by Kronus that I was able to stand at all. One hand on my cane and my legs frozen for a moment, I wondered for the briefest if this was how the old bookkeeper Pavern felt back on Pacitus. Frail and unsteady. I loathed it. But at the moment I was too consumed by another scenario.

"What book did you use to raise him?" I asked plainly, affording no distractions. "There had to be some work you used. What was it?"

"Libracate Obscurus," she said after a moment's hesitation, her voice almost a whisper. I could see guilt warring with a myriad of other emotions on her. Shame, worry, frustration, perhaps even anger. But guilt most of all. I decided I couldn't look, else I would forgive her then and there. I would forgive her regardless, really. But I could not forget. So I stepped my cane forward, making my way over to the desk of the office, facing the wall as if I looked out over a window when one was simply not present.

"My words before I was shot. I meant them. I still mean them." I breathed in deeply, wanting to choose my words carefully. Throne, the woman meant more to me than anything, but I could not hide my disapproval. It was too reckless, and it would be disrespectful of her skills to coddle her. "If what Lazarus told me were true, you showed initiative and leadership, and you should be proud of that." Shaking my head, I sighed. "But if you ever utilize such arcane practices again... I can't promise I can protect you."

"I don't need protection," she said, perhaps a bit tartly. She was twisting the meaning of my words into their most basic function, and she damn well knew it.

"When we decided to pursue our relationship, we promised we would do what we could to remain in the fold whilst doing so. If you had been shot, I don't know what I would have done. But it would be your job to tell me exactly what I am telling you now, if that had happened. If I had gone too far." I said, turning to her. I nearly fell, but stubbornly I kept myself upright, only a slight wobble of the cane showing the wave of vertigo threatening to totter me. "I cannot have any member of my team doing such things, no matter what happens. Kronus fought and survived traitor astartes in his time, and yet he was killed by a single bullet, almost as I was. We do not know what will happen tomorrow-" I started, but before I could finalize my point, my body finally gave way. I let go of the cane and hit the desk, elbow and arm pressed against it desperately as my legs threatened to collapse. This time Emmaline did help me, and this time I did not try and stop her. Her embrace and worry was warm, but I would not relent.

"Promise me you won't do it again, no matter the cost." I said, pushing myself back up with her help. She was stronger than she looked, but I was still half again her weight and it took the both of us to get started on escorting my broken form back to my chair. There were those that already whispered I was far too lenient as a monodominate, that I disgraced Inquisitor Kronus' legacy. That thought, along with my feelings for Emmaline twisted a knot of emotions in me that were almost too much to bear. "Please, Emma..."

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

True to his word, Lazarus awoke me in what seemed an all-too short amount of time later. I was informed it was early in the morning by the standards of Gravemire, and as expected, my oldest friend also provided me with a wheelchair. He knew I would demand to be out of the bed at the earliest opportunity, though I demanded to be changed out of this hospital shift before I was brought anywhere. I was granted my previous attire, freshly cleaned and even still a bit warm. It was true I felt about as weak and frail as I ever have, but I was not to be dissuaded.

"Now inform me of the situation," I said to Lazarus, even as Selencia walked up. Her hair was tied up but messy as, true to form, she had insisted on helping the staff with other patients even as she checked on me periodically. I did not have to tell her not to follow. She was my physician and no order I could give would have kept her there, regardless.

"It seems Arbites Ortega is innocent, at least as far as Emmaline deems. However, she and Clara have gone to an unknown location and I know not where it is."

"What?" I asked, and my mind raced as I tried to surpress my urge to burst out of my chair and go running off to find her. I sighed. "No matter, take me to Ortega. And find Emmaline and Clara on the vox. If they can be found, bring them back here. I want a full report immediately."

Selencia did just that, reaching into her smart jacket and placing a commlink up to her ear, phoning in to Emmaline's ear piece. As soon as the frequency was dialed, she yelped when a loud, blaring bit of static tore through her device. Even I could hear it from my sitting position, and I knew only an intense flare of warp energy could destroy a frequency in such a manner. I swore just as we turned the corner, Lazarus pulling me to a stop outside of the interrogation room. Two of the bully boys stood up, putting away a small stone they were using as a board piece, a curious game the men of the Caledonia were obsessed with when they finished their shifts.

"At ease, I need to see the man inside."

"Good to see you well, sir." The one on the left said in a thick accent. "You can go in of course, but he's out cold. The blonde did something strange to him, and he's not responding to anything right now. She said he will be well after some rest at least..."

"I can explain," a familiar voice said, trepidation transparent in her tone. I turned my head and saw Emmaline in her severe garb, Clara standing with her, looking every bit as uncomfortable as Emmaline sounded. "I can explain everything. But can Clara and I talk to you? In private?"

I raised an eyebrow, my senses still feeling somewhat disconnected to the world around me. My body felt like lead and my head was stuffed, but I nodded, even if it was strange to ask for a private word when I would not hide anything from Lazarus or Selencia, or any of the Caledonia's crew for that matter. "I was going to ask for a report on all that's happened anyway, I guess we can do it in the closest vacant office. Selencia, see to Ortega. You two-" I motioned for the Caledonia brutes. "Go in there with her and make sure she's safe. Lazarus, we'll be out in a moment."

Stubbornly, I began to weakly wheel myself toward one of the open doors. Whatever Emmaline had to tell me in private, I could not have guessed what lengths she had gone to for information...

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

My recollection of the events is more lucid than I would have liked. Perhaps it was the emperor granting Emmaline a constant reminder that I still lived, and though the pain was almost unbearable on my end, I would not have had it any other way.

My world was a flickering light. Sometimes I would be awake for many moments, and others I was lost in a swirl of blackness I could feel bearing down on me, but like a man in deep water I was unable to break free to the surface. I recall the aircar, where Selencia tended my wound and Emmaline watched me with wide eyes, fraught with worry. There was another man in there I did not recognize, whom later I was told was one of the physicians in the emergency vehicles out front. I recall my hand brushing paving as I was carried, and I remember the surgery room just before I was put under by Selencia's doing. When next I woke, my throat felt drier than Tallarn and my eyes were as heavy as an astartes ceramite. And yet I forced them open, and though I was tied down to a bed, curved to allow my upper body to rest above a flat surface, I managed to shrug my shoulders and tug the restraints.

"Ma'am!" A medical assistant cried, my sudden awareness shocking her from her bored stupor and sending her scrambling out of her seat. I was in a beige room with no windows, a door to the left with a 'vacant' sign indicating a restroom and two doors on the right, one likely leading into the hall and the other for some unknown purpose. Perhaps a closet. An IV was in my arm and various equipment reading my vitals were arrayed to my left and right. Food was placed along a small standing desk next to my bed, the room cluttered with chairs and potted plants and a tele-screen hanging at the corner.

"What..." I started, but it came out as a croak. I summoned my breath. "What day is it? How many days have I been out?"

"Ma'am! He's awake!" The assistant cried into the hallway.

I should not have done this, but I did not get shot in this god-forsaken hive to be ignored by the staff, and my worry for my team and Emmaline burned a fire in my chest. "How long have I been out?" I asked, using my will. The woman almost leaped from the mental shock, stricken by the sudden assault.

"It's the same day," She answered simply. "The early hours of the morning."

"Where is my team?"

"Doctor Selencia and the mechanicus thing are approaching down the hall. Two large men accompany them. I don't know where the blonde and the brunette are, or the other two large brutes." She responded obediently, and her slack jawed expression drew me out of my single-minded determination to squeeze information and I felt a small modicum of shame for overpowering her like this. I let her go as gently as I could, but she stumbled onto the floor all the same. Selencia stood in the doorway, shock intermingled with worry and anger.

"Hadrian Drakos you absolute idiot!" She exclaimed, wiping her untidied dark hair out of her face and kneeling down to help the woman. She had evidently fainted, and that made two of us nearly. My energy was almost spent already. "Throne, what did you do to her?"

"Kronus always said he had a way with women," Lazarus pipped in, his voice monotone and yet I could sense an unwavering sense of humor in him.

"Where is Emmaline?" I asked hoarsely. "What's happened?"

Selencia ignored my question to let me stew as she tended to her newest patient. I supposed if Emmaline was in dire trouble, she would not be playing games with me. Lazarus stepped passed them and bore down on me with a look I had not seen on him for quite some time.

"Rest boy," He said, and at the moment I did not question the 'boy,' though it had been at least a decade since he referred to me as such. All it did was made me tired.

"Just answer the question." I said to him.

"Emmaline and Clara are interrogating Arbites Ortega in a room three halls away. Two of Urien's men are outside standing watch." He informed me.

"Ortega?" I asked, swallowing to parch my throat. "Where are we?"

"In the administratum embassy just above the lower hive. Better medical equipment here, and many holding rooms for those less cooperate. Now rest. I'll wake you as soon as I know something. It's not often you get a second chance."

"What?" I asked as my world grew dim.

Lazarus's words were the last I heard before I was gone from the waking world: "Oh, yes. For a few moments there, you were dead."

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

The rattle and clang of machinery echoed in the din of the now mostly vacant halls of the manufactora. After we had ascended the stairs, I saw little in the way of clues. The floor where the cultist had run looked nearly identical to the other rotors and steel grinders, save for a sticky black substance I could reasonably guess was some form of tobacco splotted along the handle of the machine. I rubbed it between two gloved fingers and sniffed it gently, my suspicions confirmed. It was good it wasn't a chaos substance, and yet it still meant we had nothing of else of substance, either. As I examined further, Emmaline's question reached my ears.

I rose from my crouch and looked at her. The others had swept across the rest of the manufactora, leaving us alone. Despite her intelligence and her savvy, as well as her incredible luck, she was still relatively green to this kind of life. I often tried to appear unbiased when it came to speaking with her in front of the others to keep a show of favoritism to be the furthest thing from their minds, but I believe I sometimes over-corrected myself and became cold in front of her, and that was the last thing I wanted her to think. I removed my glove as I spoke.

"You've done remarkably well in the short time I've known you, Emma. You did your best, and at the crux of it, I would rather a cultist of the great enemy to be dead rather than escape. I know you feel as if you're here partly because of our..." I did not know what to call us, really. I cared for her, but was it love? I was too busy and preoccupied to have really wrestled with the question. "our relationship, but if I felt you weren't a good aide, you would have stayed on Pacitus. You're here because you get results, and I would not have any other psyker by my side in the Imperium, even if Malcador the Sigilite walked up and offered his services."

Looking back, I realized I had a small undertone of feeling in my voice that could only come from a man speaking a woman, but I still meant it and I have never felt like it was poor wording. I saw a smile blossom on her face, and I allowed myself to smile back. The smell of rust and various gasses could not ruin the moment.

Unfortunately, the bullet that blew a hole through my kidney pulled it off. The gunshot echoed a fraction of a moment after the projectile had entered the small of my back and I fell to my knees before I even knew what had caused me to stumble. Blood began leaking from my abdomen, and vaguely I remembered trying to staunch the flow as crimson dribbled down my shirt and fell through the grating to the lower levels. It didn't hurt at first. It was only a pressure and a feeling of cold, and behind me the shadowy figure lined up another shot.

"Die, Inquisitor Drakos."

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

I found myself lured into the relatively short explanation of her life. The bewitching brunette left out just enough to where I found I had questions, but I almost did not want to blow away the veneer of the mystery. If this night was going the way I thought it might, I would have plenty of time to find out later, after all. As she explained I partook of the delectable food and found by the grace of Sigmar I missed Tilean cuisine. The zest was immaculate and the champagne gave it a tang that almost overwhelmed my senses.

"Courts in Tilea sound more of a sociable affair than ones in my home country, I find. Then again, I suppose any idiot who's father has a title can be welcomed in it for at least a brief visit. That or kill an insane number of beastman. I've met a fellow named Wulfhart who did exactly that. Emperor Franz was so impressed he made up a royal position for him on the spot. I wish I was there, it still makes me laugh." I said, marveling at how brutish that must sound to someone here. My chin rested casually on my hand as I spoke. Elbows on the table wasn't strictly polite but I felt we were growing more accustomed to one another and it right at the current moment. I was afraid I was being far too open with my appreciating her beauty, but then again we did not go out to speak on our political leanings, as fascinating as that no doubt would be.

"I foresee my time at this court will have a considerably less worth than you, despite my introduction. Luckily I'm adaptable too," I said with a smirk, and the music swelled as there was a brief pause between us. I took another bite of my meal and downed the champagne, before dabbing my lips with the cloth. "Not to mix business with pleasure, but you mentioned dancing. Could I trouble you for a dance?" I was already out of my seat, hand extended with an easy smile. "If you're adaptable enough, of course." I added playfully.

I was a passable dancer. Nothing to write home about, but I had been on my fair share of dance floors and picked up a few pointers even if I never quite had formal training. However, I prided myself on learning on the fly and generally when I danced with a woman, I felt as if then we had become properly introduced. "I'd be interested in learning a thing or two on tilean dancing, I'm sure my garish northern footwork could use a lesson."

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

"Care to explain, Deckard? Well, I suppose that's not your real name, is it." Ortega grumbled. It was hard to tell if it was an accusation.

The broad shouldered arbites stood with my retinue and I just outside of the emergency door of the manufactora. The air still smelt of ozone and wet from the artificial rain that had graced the lower hive an hour previously. Out front, emergency vehicles were parked and lights flashing as crews began to escort workers out as other maintenance crews began to clean up the chemical spills with the appropriate kit of absorbent material to sponge away the acids and bases that cluttered the floor. I had insisted on bringing the body with us to be examined, and to Ortega's credit, he did not protest. Three of the bully boys had to carry different parts of the bleeding mass of flesh out with us, but they somehow managed.

I opened my jacket and showed him the Aquila that marked my office. His face was unreadable behind his visor, but I could feel his apprehension rise with his realization. Emmaline stood beside me, and she shifted, fidgeting with her hair like always when she was nearly blown up. Wordlessly I slid out of my jacket and draped it around her shoulders, a small moment of intimacy I could afford her now that I had deigned to reveal myself to the arbites. Lazarus's binary bleated into the air as he knelt down before the corpse to analyze it, having already inspected Emmaline for chemical burns of gunshot wounds.

"I should have known," Ortega said, and he cursed. "You would only be here if it was something important. Who was this man?"

My eyes narrowed, and I could tell he realized he addressed me with a lack of proper respect. He added a small 'lord inquisitor' to save face. I did not hold myself to any high standard, but I would be referred to as my station demanded or else one might get ideas on halting my investigations or withholding resources or information from me because I allowed smaller, more petty matters to slide. I reached into the jacket currently adorning Emmaline and pulled out a diagnostor I had sequestered on my person, kneeling down with Lazarus to inspect the corpse.

"This man was a cultist, in all due likelyhood. A cultist from a world half the segmentum away, connected with a plot that involves the murder of various subjects of the emperor, including one on my team." I informed the arbites, not wishing to give specifics yet.

"The tattoo is a match, and is the pigment and lipids of his skin, matching the locals of Havenos with little variation." Lazarus informed me. My diagonostor whirred and arose with a red signal atop its head, signifying an unknown disease ran rampant through his body, kept together through some unknown means. Immediately I knew it was whatever warped plague had ravaged the tribes on the feral world. I stepped back and Lazarus joined me.

"Have this body burned, and bring physicians and a biologis if you can acquire one and check the other workers for pathogens, known and unknown. I cannot say for certain but there might be a plague loose on the planet. Even if that is a worry unfounded, it is best to check before something else untoward occurs. Meanwhile, my team and I will retrace our steps in the manufactora." I informed Ortega. He regarded me for many moments, wondering if he could refuse me or not. But inevitably he complied, voxxing in my orders to the overseers of the lower hive.

"Do you think the hive might be infected?" Emmaline asked softly.

"I don't know. Even if it isn't, this wouldn't be the only culprit in the city."