POOHEAD189

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Hours later...

I was glad to be sitting down, again. My abdomen felt like it was close to splitting apart, though Selencia assured me that was merely the pain of healing, but it did little to assuage my uneasiness. A part of me selfishly wished that the document Emmaline found would lead us elsewhere, so I may heal in peace for the weeks or months it would take the travel through the warp in order to find our next clue in this increasingly complex web. Of course, if we could solve the entirety of this case over the next few days on this forsaken hiveworld, so much the better.

I sat in a room with Emmaline, Ortega, and Lazarus. There was a large table at the center of the office where the two strips of paper Emmaline had acquired lay. Around them were pentagrams I had inlaid, bolstered by protective prayers to the Emperor of Mankind. Initially I had sought to reconnect the parchment to make it whole again with some adhesive, but I thought against it. No telling what that could turn the scroll into, as paranoid as that may seem. One could never be too careful dealing with items of the ruinous powers.

"The paper is not recycled." Lazarus declared, having analyzed one half of the parchments. "It's old, perhaps decades old, but well preserved. This came from either the upper spire or off world."

"Off world. The upper spire's papers are lighter in color and thinner in texture, unless someone made a special order." Ortega said. "I see no stains on it beyond a bit of moisture from your woman's sweat. Your man from mars is right, it wasn't made from within the underhive."

"Written in high gothic, but the style is archaic," Emmaline pointed out. I nodded.

"Only a few use such a manner of script today. I've only seen one other like it," I said. "A text written by a cardinal of the Ecclesiarchy."

That brought a few stares.

"Are we going to put this together and read it?" Ortega asked, and all eyes moved to myself. I knew we would need to at some point, but only under careful scrutiny. Perhaps there was no taint of the warp on it, and it was a mere propaganda piece, but I would not leave that to chance. I shook my head.

"Soon, but not yet. And Ortega, would you and Lazarus be kind enough to vacate the room for a moment?" I asked, though it was obviously an order. The arbites hesitated, but reluctantly followed Lazarus out, who had moved as soon as I had spoken as if he were a cog in a wheel. The door closed behind them, audibly. I used what little psychic talents I had to lock the door in place, before regarding Emmaline.

"Are you alright?" I asked her.

She nodded, her pride wounded but otherwise she seemed fine. "Yes, thanks for saving me."

I allowed myself a small smile. "And thanks for saving me," I said, which caused her lips to broaden in a smile as well. As much as I wished to make up then and there, I knew time was likely of the essence. "I want you to read this document."

Emmaline blinked rapidly. "After... after what I did?"

"The papers are well warded, and I'm here with you. But I need someone to read it who knows what the power of the warp in both its purified form and it's less so- form feels like. Don't worry. If you don't want to, then I will do it. But we need to see what is on it in order to understand it. However, you cannot read it aloud. That is what they wished of you, yes?"

"Yes," she said quickly.

"Then let's begin." I said, and silently, secretly placed my gun in my lap below the table. I was not planning on using it, but if something took hold of her, I would rather both of us die than have some daemon take control of her body and wreak havoc.

That's not going to happen, I told myself.

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

"I think we'll call that an edge," I said, placing the staff back on the ground. I wiped my forehead with the sleeve of my borrowed button-up shirt. It was almost noon and I felt like I had run for miles at this point. Plus, I usually was not the biggest fan of death threats leveraged towards my person, particularly in such a short amount of time. My talented companion helped, even though I did feel for a second there she was going to leave me for the dogs. I can be quite dark sometimes, even though I loathe to admit it. I was contemplating making a final call to my God that would have ended my life but succeeded in causing everyone around me quite a lot of pain. Luckily cooler heads prevailed and I felt Camilla was merely playing a part.

Perhaps next time we should discuss such things before a life and death situation? I thought to make a mental note, but I knew I would forget it. If the both of us lived out the day I feel I would be far too busy hallucinating Camilla was Shallya reborn, or something along those lines. The thought made me smirk for a moment, but I wiped it off my face immediately. The two of us, now accompanied by Herr Panio and good chamberlain Shultz could not stay here for long, lest we invite more trouble. Camilla was kind enough to un-gag him, which brought a heartfelt 'oh thank you, good woman' from the portly man. At least he was in good spirits.

"Does anyone know the layout of the palace?" I asked, stepping forward. I glanced around, seeing various doors next to the mosiacs and a double-door to the east that were likely the kitchens. The ceiling was beautifully ribbed, its ridges making two great octagonal stars where a multitude of chandeliers hung, sparkling in the light. It was quite a large room, but probably one of the smaller dining halls of the great fortress.

Camilla shook her head, her chocolate waves of hair swaying. "I've only been here a day, same as you." She remarked in tilean, before she translated my words to Maximo Panio. He shook his head as well.

"Well, erm, this is the dining hall, yes?" Hortiman Shultz asked, looking around as if there might be some small snack someone had missed during all the blood letting. I raised an eyebrow, but even as Camilla and the Luccini ambassador looked at him in confusion, it dawned on me. My mind went back a number of years ago, when I had deigned to look over the mapped layouts of the great tilean houses in order to impress a full figured patrizia named Dulce. It was a passing fling and I had been told she enjoyed touring all the great palaces of her home country, so I figured I would learn a bit to add some spice to our pillow talk. Unfortunately my memory was not so great that I recalled the Remas Palace's exact design, but I did notice some similarities to each great palazzo in question, and they were also much similar to the Imperial Palace at Altdorf.

"If we are in the secondary dining hall, there is generally a ballroom close by..."

"To the east!" Camilla exclaimed, eyes bright and slim fingers snapping, catching on quick as usual. I knew she likely knew far more than even I. She had made a career in these sorts of places. "And next to the ballrooms are the long galleries that connect to the main hall, which will lead us to the council room of the three, where we all met."

"And from there we'll at least have a heading," I surmised, and clapped the chamberlain on the shoulder with a laugh. He gave a merry smile, glad to have helped in any small way. I knew I liked him, despite my jealousy of his station.

"Then let us go," Maximo Panio said, stripping off the clothing of a dead man and grabbing a dropped crossbow. "I wish to end this so I may either kill the bastards who killed my men or go home and come back here to do the same!"

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

"I am the speaker of the Imperial delegation," I declared, rising up from the floor. The carpeted floor was immaculate and red. I suppose blood wouldn't do it too much of a disservice, I thought facetiously.

"You're the ambassador?" He asked, confusion screwing his face up.

"Er, not exactly." I replied, a part of me wishing to claim I was as I felt I might as well be, but as big of a liar as I could be, there was no use for it here other than to sate my own ego. Plus, we were already on the hunt for the true ambassador. "I am merely an advisor and translator. I am Kian of the cult of Sigmar. The delectable lady before you is Camilla, and we both seek the chamberlain that arrived yesterday, just before you, I imagine. You wouldn't have..." My voice trailed off as I saw him about to burst with protestation on being asked where someone was when he was just assailed and his guard butchered. "Anyway, did you say it was Romero that killed your men?"

"Yes," The Luccini delegate said, trying to collect himself. I wanted to tell him to put his pants on but he had been through much and I did not want to ruin his train of thought. "His guard came in just as we were dining. He had said we would have the room for ourselves, and then suddenly his men streamed into the room, swords and pistols and bloodletting. My aide put me in the closet before I was seen. Poor man was dead as the rest of them when the deed was done." He seemed on the verge of tears from the stress. I would have offered him a prayer with some of Sigmar's grace, but my next benediction that had any sort of power might kill me, and I doubted a normal prayer to Sigmar could assuage this southerner. I sighed and instead put my hand on his shoulder.

"Well, you are safe now, sir. The palace is in pandemonium. I doubt anyone now believes you're alive."

"True, pretty priest. I did not until this very moment." A woman's voice rang out across the room. My heart skipped a beat and all three of us turned to see Imeldo Mondo step into the room, adorned sumptuously in a puffed up dress and a well pressed blouse, flanked by a number of Condottieri streaming into the room from the main door leading to the upper floors, as well as three pretty girls rouged and dressed as Camilla had been the previous day. "My, I just thought that I could do for some breakfast, and here I am to see your handsome face, the Luccini ambassador, and my own girl." Behind them, held by two men and bound, was the fat Chamberlain Shultz, still in his nightrobes. He was gagged, else I imagined he would have said something along the lines of 'good heavens, this is most uncomfortable' or the like.

"You've done well, Camilla." She purred, smug as fat cat. "Distracting the priest like that all last night, not that it was a hard job, I imagine. I wish I could keep him alive to get a taste myself, but business is business."

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

"No, I've been good! I mean, mostly." Neil professed. He had maybe ruffled a few feathers once or twice, but not in awhile and not from anyone with the smarts or temperament to take their revenge cold like this.

"Well, they're on us and I haven't been here more than a few days." She reasoned, pulling the Callisto up to keep the pursuers on their toes. Neil looked at the rear-view screen and saw them gaining on the air-car. The mechanic saw visors lifting and men standing up, lifting small arms. Neil grimaced. He didn't want the hot girl to get hurt, nor for the Callisto to get damaged, and as an afterthought he felt like getting shot would hurt.

"Lemme take the helm," Neil said quickly.

"Gonna show a girl how it's done?" She asked, fluttering her lashes. A plasma bolt shrieked past them, and bullets began to ping across the back of the Callisto. The hot woman gave a squawk and tried to scoot over as Neil slid into the seat, but all that ended up occurring was a tangle of limbs until her shapely butt hit the seat just beside Neil.

"Go go go!" She said, but Neil did the last thing anyone would expect. He put the Callisto in neutral mode, took a deep breath, and then shut its engine off. There was a sudden feeling of weightlessness and silence as the thrumming of the power halted, and then the vehicle plummeted towards the station. Bullets and lasers whizzed by just above them as Neil put his glasses on and his seat belt, in that order.

"Might wanna strap in, babe." He advised, and the hot girl hurriedly did so as they began to pick up speed. Neil counted to eight aloud, and just before it seemed like they would shatter onto the tallest spire, Neil flipped the switch, the engine roaring to life like a terran lion. As an afterthought, he flipped on the radio, music blaring to life as he took control of the fall. He spun the air-car, nose diving under a maintenance zip, one of the many bridges where self propelled storage units were shipped across the terminal, before skimming just ten meters above the main drag of the terminal in a swoop that sent wind scattering clothing and loose papers on the street below.

"Where are they?" Neil asked, switching gears.

"Ten o'clock." The girl called. "Two hundred meters back, maybe."

"Good eye," Neil remarked, impressed. Neil nearly hit the Soaked Stack, lurching the Callisto sideways until the aft and bow switched places, the back boosters igniting in flames as Neil reversed directions over an alleyway just as one of their pursuers rocketed towards them.

"Should I start panicking?" The girl asked.

"I got this," Neil remarked, switching power to the lift thrusters, knowing this pursuer was going too fast to stop. The Callisto burst upwards, leaping over the air-car. The two saw a brief flash of Xenos and human faces before the vehicle slammed into an office building at 172 kilometers per hour. Neil switched thrusters again and turned the Callisto in an arc, launching the air-car into a gaping, industrial hole in the wall of the terminal as the other three cars came into view. Curiously, Neil saw they looked to be fighting themselves too just as blackness overtook them, the lights flaring to life on the front of the vehicle. Neil saw the shaft immediately squeeze into a smaller tunnel, and the lights touched a dead end suddenly. The fact it was an end that transformed into a forked path was little comfort

"Start panicking!" Neil blurted, hauling the vehicle back with all power before turning it, testing the Callisto's craftsmanship to its limits as the air-car skidded through the air like a stone tossed above a lake, the wall leaping to meet them until the last moment, Neil chasing the Callisto to a left trajectory as its back end pinged on the steel of the wall. Before they flew down the turn, in the distance they saw flames from other engines flashing in their vision.

"These fuckers are relentless!" Neil amazed, rocketing the vehicle forward another three hundred meters before they reached an opening, leading into a small pocket where the recycled water met in an four sided aqueduct where eight tunnels met. Neil didn't take any tunnels, instead dropping the Callisto down just below the opening to land on a rusted alcove, shutting the engines and the radio off and freezing. Twenty seconds passed, and no pursuit was evident. Either they went the wrong way, they gave up, or they did not see where exactly Neil and the woman went. The former and the latter were more likely than the second thought.

Neil took his glasses off and whistled appreciatively. "I haven't done a chase like that in...well not for awhile. Are you good?" He asked. hoping she was ok. She seemed pumped up after it. That was endearing. A fellow adrenaline junkie. "Sexy right? Also I'm pretty sure you haven't told me your name yet."

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink.

A hammer pounded on something in the vast corridors, the shadows long and oppressive. Ortega and I moved in and out of the sparse light sources making as little noise as possible, despite our heavy boots pressing down onto gridwork floors that creaked dangerously. There was a smell of heavy machinery and some sort of chems in the air, not to mention the petrochemicals I viewed earlier. Whatever was happening here, I knew it was against the well being of the Imperium. Once we found Emmaline, I would try and level this place or cut the head off the snake.

First, however, I needed to find my lover. No, my aide. Damn, it was getting hard to justify the rescue mission even to myself. I felt wholly selfish, and yet I could no more stop in my pursuit of her than in my dogged pursuit of the enemy. Luckily for me on that day, they were one and the same. We rounded a corner, piping like snakes coiled about us in the tunnel, and up from a long stairway came a scrambling, very naked Emmaline. Her eyes wild and her lustrous hair unbound and wild.

"Emma!" I cried, lowering my gun. Ortega lowered his a moment later. Emmaline slammed into me, and though no doubt my carapace armor could not be too comfortable against her bare skin, she hugged me tightly all the same. I hugged her back despite the pain in my abdomen. "Emma, you're ok. We're getting you out of here." I started, but she shook her head.

"No, no, they're right behind me!" She breathed desperately. I stripped off my jacket and placed it around her shoulders, letting her hastily tie it around her. I was taller than her so it served as a short dress in a pinch. "We need to stop them Hadrian!"

Lasgun fire arced up at our direction, scorching the ceiling just before us. It caused all three of us to flinch and we backed up further into the tunnel. Ortega lifted his shotgun and took out a krak grenade from his belt, thinking to use the narrow stairway to funnel the enemies into an explosion they couldn't escape. Emmaline's blue eyes went wide as saucers, her mouth gaping open. "NO! WAIT!" She cried, but the grenade was already sailing down the stairs. We heard a curse as the projectile hit the leading pursuer.

"What!?" I asked her.

"Run!!!" She screamed with all the desperation she could muster.

We looked at one another and realized simultaneously she was scared enough to heed, and bolted back the way we came.

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

If last night was not a clear enough indication, I was on the verge of becoming intoxicated with this woman. I could use fouler and more suggestive language, but let's just say when she whispered the statement in my ear I quite lost my train of thought.

"You know I'm quite open with converting to that sort of faith," I said softly, turning to face her, our noses brushing we were so close. "I don't think Sigmar could blame me for it."

My head managed to take hold of me for a brief enough moment to reign myself in as my eyes snapped to the left and saw the Captain turning toward us. I was quick enough to back off to a 'chaste' distance when his eyes fell on me, my arms crossed and my hand on my chin, professionally poised, appearing deep in some manner of thought.

"Get going!" He barked, waving us away. Gladly, I thought, but gave the impression I was merely acquiescing with his request and led Camilla out of the west wing into the corridor that led to the central halls of the palace. We saw the occasional body or broken vase, but other than distant shouts and the sounds of what I could only imagine were the discharge of firearms, there was little danger thus far. I pressed my bandaged hand against the wall and grimaced from the pain. My fingers ached and yearned to go back into a more comfortable, lax position, but I had learned from a few Dwarfen merchants in Altdorf that one could ascertain many things by placing their hands upon stone or other hard surfaces. I took a moment and closed my eyes, letting my strong hand hold my holy staff. The skull at its top a solid weight to keep whatever I might feel between my hand and the floor.

"Erm, what are you doing?" Camilla asked in tilean, confused but not wishing to disturb me lest it was some arcane ritual I was performing. In a way, it was. The divine lore of Sigmar was a power the Warrior-God could imbue his more noteworthy followers, but what the layman did not realize was the concentration one needed in order to worship the diety in a way that might garner his attention and holy powers. Such techniques could potentially be linked to eastern texts having come from far Cathay, or perhaps even the island nation of Nippon. Others with even more heretical ideas thought it came from the elves and their performances with magic. The history was suspect, but I took what kernels of truth I could from the rumors and applied it to my abilities for real world application. I had long ago grown learned to such practices of meditation in order to help me with my prayers, and I utilized the skill here to see if I could find what came next, ahead of us.

Unfortunately, it seemed I hadn't the time.

"Kian!" Camilla cried. Pulling my mind out of the pit I had just dipped my toes into was jarring, but I opened my eyes to see a group of crossbowmen and pikemen arrayed around us. Perhaps a dozen in all. Even still, I felt an inkling of the power I was about to grasp hovering at the edges of my consciousness. I loathed to find out how taxed I would be from using it, but perhaps I hadn't a choice.

"My, my, if it is not the man of the hour," a familiar voice said in heavily accented reikspeil. I turned and saw Marco Telli, a decorated jacket adorning an immaculate satin dress shirt, smiling evilly. His eyes flickered to Camilla. "Ah, and Imelda's new girl, is it? You do move quick, signor priest. This is quite a rare flower."

"Camilla de la Trantio," She said without a hint of fear, her dark hair whipping behind her like a proud stallion's mane. "I am taking teh preest of Sigmoor to Lady Mondo. Yoo would do well noot to hinder oos."

"And you would do well to speak when spoken to," He shot back in quick tilean. I breathed a sigh, knowing there was little chance we could get out of this one. Even if I cast what powers I had, it would only delay the inevitable. We were quite surrounded, you see. I stepped off the wall and fixed my hair, determined to die in dignity. I hoped they would let Camilla go, but I was quite finished. That is, until I felt a keen breeze against my left cheek and glanced past the wall I had leaned on to see an open window, next to a thick curtain rope coiled onto the white floor. "Perhaps I will send you back to Mondo without your head! Keep your tongue to yourself lest I take it. Would be such a shame to lose something so talented."

"Gentleman!" I said, holding up my bandaged hand suddenly, taking one step so I stood by Camilla. I lifted my staff gently off the floor, muttering a small prayer under my breath. By Sigmar's endless grace, I hoped this worked. "I was remiss, I must confess. I see now how foolish it was of me to not speak with you earlier, your gallantry prince Marco. I am an interloper here. I have no right to your food or your women or your respect..."

Marco raised an eyebrow, suspicious but not displeased. As I continued he gained a self satisfied smile, crossing his arms. "Go on, priest."

"Yes, it was terribly impolite and unbecoming. You, with such a great name in the greatest city in the old world. I should get upon my knees and beg your forgiveness, throwing myself upon the mercy of your majesty and boundless kindness. However, there is one thing I must do before I renounce my old loyalties completely and beg for my life." I confessed, my bandaged hand a gentle fist now placed against my chest. I played the role as if I were in a melodrama. Even some of the soldiers watched intently, interested beyond mere orders. "I promised I would have breakfast with the lovely Camilla and I scant think of a crueler replacement to such an activity than gazing upon your grotesque image any longer, you ugly piece of shit."

The butt of my staff hit the marble floor as I placed my bandaged hand before Camilla's eyes to shield her, and from the eyes of my stave's bronze skull erupted the light of the sun. The priests of my cult gave this sigmarite prayer the ostentatious name of 'Beacon of Righteous Virtue,' but it served just as well against men with unprotected eyes. It was used to dispell chaos spirits and undead abominations, but one could use it in many ways I found. The men's vision was overwhelmed immediately, crying out and throwing their weapons as they clutched their faces. Two crossbows loosed, but one bolt flew wide while the other hit his fellow pikeman in the groin.

I took no time to delay. I grabbed Camilla by the waist, grimacing from having to use my ruined hand, wrapped the thick rope by the window around my opposite arm, and stepped onto the window over a canopy of greenery twenty feet below us. Camilla quickly wrapped around me to better help use her weight to let the inevitable swing work, and the next moment we sailed over empty air to another hall opposite the corridor we had just left. Our rope was, of course, anchored from the window itself and did not swing far. I had to use my head and desperately thrust my staff forward, vainly trying to hook the wings my the skull against a crevasse, only to have it slip and send us swinging back over the canopy.

We were too far down to go back into the window, but I expected the rope to be cut at any second, and so instead I opted to let go as soon as we had been flung over an alcove. The both of us hit a partially opened stained window, spinning so I got the worst of the damage. I suppose I was chivalrous like that, but we managed to topple into a secondary dining hall onto a soft carpet, rolling until we lay just under the drapery of a table. I ached in my back, my head, and gods my hand, but we were safe for the moment, I believed.

"Not my best escape, but I think that did the trick," I said, trying to rise but hitting the floor again. My body felt immensely weak and my head spun. Despite my disorientation, I saw she was crouched over me and looking at me with a hint of concern and awe and something I could not tell. I hoped it was not too bad of a thought. "A-...are you ok, signoritta?"

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

Technically Neil did not have the authority to let someone drive one of these. It took someone his boss's level or higher to do that, but if he went and got his boss, he had the distinct feeling the overweight and over-aged man would make this girl uncomfortable with his advances. Granted, Neil wasn't going to shy away from trying to charm her either, but she had come onto him first! With only the briefest hesitation, he hopped into vehicle with her.

"I need to make sure you won't get into more trouble than you're worth," He said jokingly. "Or I'm worth, for that matter."

"You're worth quite a bit," She replied with a wink, closing the cockpit with the press of a button. A carbo-glass screen slid out of a sheath and encapsulated them. Behind the two was a small bulkhead door, leading to a small dwelling where one could place their belongings and shack up for the night on a long trip between planets. Neil cut his glance and regarded her when she asked: "Can we take this out of the station?"

"Not unless you want to get me fired, or you feel lucky enough to make it past the security turrets." He warned, though he wasn't happy about it. Taking a Callisto out into space and sharing a night with this girl was definitely his idea of a good night. Unless she was a brain eating Xenos in disguise or taking him to a gang hit, which could potentially still be on the table, but he was a leap first and ask questions later sort of guy, usually. "You can fly above the business section of the business terminal. They let smaller transports switch docks from there. You could see the whole station from there. I can show you the best dives here."

The Callisto lifted off and sped forward smooth as a whistle. The reactor was compact and purred with a satisfying growl, the lift seamless and the controls turning on a dime. Neil fancied himself a good, even great pilot on most vehicles, but this girl wasn't bad. She learned quickly, zipping the Callisto in a clockwise spin upwards that was entirely not regulation but fun as hell. Neil heard her laughing and he found he was laughing too.

"Damn, you did want to go fast," He said, looking at her with clear interest in his eyes. They leveled off five hundred meters into the terminal, where the structures and cables were few and far between and there was a clear, open space save for a few lazy transports meandering to their destinations. Above them, stars filled the sky, hidden behind a screen of clear carbo-glass half a foot thick. You would have to shoot your way out of the station to get through it, and this vehicle did not have las cannon attached. Below, the business terminal swayed slowly counter clockwise, the various cantinas, tax offices, repairshops, landing bays, and everything else a station needed mapped out below.

Hyperion 3 had used to serve as a naval base, back when earth and humanity's future was bright and filled with endless possibilities. Before the collapse, xenos invasions, and the civil wars that followed. Now it was a pit stop for spacers and transports hauling cargo. Neil wondered what it had been like, back during those days. He knew it was nothing like the old stories, but he had never been to earth. He wanted to visit one day, he found. Spinning just below, barely visibly behind the bulk of the fifteen kilometer business terminal, was the smaller living terminal where the apartments and scant homes of the upper echelons were located. One only need dive down the central lift to go between.

"See that?" Neil said, leaning closer to point past her shoulder, indicating a small boxy shape far below. His voice was hot in her ear. "That's Logan's Gun, the best spot in Hyperion to go out to eat. Want to head there after we take this baby a few laps? I'll buy."

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

"I thank you sir for your timely intervention. It seems..." I was going to ascertain that Sigmar truly watched over us this day, but I figured he would not take to the concept as I would so I continued with, "the gods are watching over us," in a more diplomatic approach. He laughed, jaunting over to our position and wiping the blood from his blade on his own cloak.

"Yoo ar queite reight," He said in his heavy accent, sheathing his sword. He poised himself as if he were propositioning at court, anything between a duel and a suggestion of courting. "An I seuppose yoor schamberlain iss missing, no?"

"Very astute sir," I conceded with an inclination of my head. I was eager to move, if for no other reason than to keep myself and Camilla out of harms way. Of course, if I could find Schulz in the meantime, that would be ideal. "I suggest we go search for him immediately, but if you have more pressing business of your own I will not hold you to any quest, sir."

"Non, I am ze ambassador ah-myself. I will, howevere, follow ze innocent ladie," He remarked chivalrously, smiling kindly to Camilla. She gave him a dazzling smile I could almost believe was sincere, had I not seen her give the same to other courtiers of the court. I saw no reason to pause, and so at my ushering we heading into the main corridor of the west wing of the palace. I had seen violence before, but the deaths of the men a scant few minutes ago and the bodies we found strewn across the floor made me quite glad Camilla and I had not yet eaten breakfast. Some furniture was overturned in haste whilst others were unmoved and even unblemished from the blood that pooled in various imperfections and crevasses of the tiled floor.

"By the hammer, what could cause such calamity?" I asked aloud, kneeling down to close the eyes of a tilean swordsman. He was no more than a boy, the barest hint of facial hair creeping onto his chin. In the distance, the clash of steel on steel and cries could still be heard, but before we could go further, a familiar face rounded the corner.

Captain Muller and a retinue of twenty of our imperial men followed him. Some were bruised and bandaged but all looked in fighting shape. The Captain called his men to a halt, his eyes on me first and foremost. He looked past my shoulder and then approached. "Where is the Chamberlain?"

"He wasn't in his rooms." I said, confusion evident on my face. "Are you telling me you didn't get him out?"

"Do you bloody see him with us!?" The Captain growled, frustrated. I did not press the issue, even though I was wild before his eyes fell on Camilla. I was not close to the captain by any stretch, but I knew that look. I stepped between the two of them before he even raised his sword to point at the woman. "Who is she? Why are you traveling with a tilean trollop? She could be a spy for all you know!"

"She is not a spy, hell the men tried to kill her!" I said vehemently.

The Captain narrowed his eyes at me, a bit of shrewdness finally poking through the haze of anger. "Did you meet her yesterday? Where were you last night?" He asked.

I laughed as if it were the most predictable and pathetic thing I had ever heard, clutching my staff in both hands, jiggling it as I spoke to give my words more of a mocking tone. "Yes, truly. 'This woman sucked my cock so well that I would vouche for her after being here just one day.' Do you listen to yourself? I found her scared out of her mind in the halls and being assailed, and the Brettonian ambassador here helped me defend her. Don't insult me, even I wouldn't sleep with a local woman after one night here."

I was glad I sounded very sure of myself, but I braced myself in case Camilla chortled. Perhaps lying wasn't the most noble thing to do, but it kept us from killing each other. The fact it was my mouth on her rather than the opposite gave a bit of truth to the falsehood, and the mental image of her lips below my belt had my heart suddenly racing. Gods, I was hopeless, wasn't I? The small thought Camilla might be a spy and I was blindly guarding her after a wondrous night was also an unsettling prospect, but no, I wasn't going to entertain that idea at the moment. One enemy at a time.

"So, lead on Captain. Wherever the Chamberlain is, he's not in the west wing." I replied.

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

Neil raised an eyebrow with a debonair flair and leaned in closer, but despite his body language, something made him hesitate.

What?

No. No, this kind of thing only happens in a dream or a commercial on the holovids. Bad ones too. The commercials, not the dreams. The dreams are usually good. But this was not something that just happened. Neil knew he was cute, handsome even, at least on good days. But just some... some spacer babe showing up and flirting with him? I mean, he wouldn't say no, and he had to ignore the alarm bells. But they were really loud. So loud he wouldn't be surprised if they were audible to others. But he looked at her, and his anatomy took over, the blood seeping from his brain to his lower half. And her outfit was so tight, and her body was so full, and her face was so fucking cute.

He put his hand on his mouth and squinted at her, a knowing smile growing on his face. "You seem like a Callisto girl," he said, referring to the relatively popular, sleek interplanetary transport brand of starship that were renowned for their maneuverability and style. The front of the transport was designed to increase downforce and includes intakes for rapid air cooling, as well as ducts to increase underbody air flow when flying. The aero efficiancy was spectacular value for money, and it was just below being a luxury transport.

"Tell you what-" He said, and without warning, he vaulted over the counter, sliding his feet onto the floor just next to her so they were very close. He rested his elbows on the desk and said. "I got nothing to do the rest of the day, anyway. I can maybe show you some of the ships the station has? I know the guy that owns the place. Might get you a discount. Of course-" He patted himself as if he were a car. "I'm not quite as fast as a Callisto, but I don't think you'd want a one and done guy..." He reached into his pants pocket and produced some shades, donning them, before reduntantly sliding them down so he could see eye to eye with her. "Would ya?"

Neil played it both angles. He knew she was flirting with him, but he wanted to present himself as someone who wanted to help rather than just some sucker. But he did also add in some heavy flirting in case that was not a bluff from her.

"Edwards! Are you done out there!?" David yelled from the office.

"No sir! I'm with a customer!" He called over his shoulder, before giving her a subtle wink and placing a finger to his lips. "Ready to get out of here? By the way, my name's Neil."

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

Chapter 1

M5.213
Hyperion 3, Orbiting Titan
Business Quadrant

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Oil leaked out in a heavy gush of blackness, coating Neil's shirt and spattering on his cheek. He vainly tried to halt the flow of the spill, but the bolt was stubborn and the dribble on the floor grew larger. He let out a frustrated cry, overly dramatizing the minor annoyance for his own amusement and sanity. He spat out the inky liquid that had managed to fleck his lips and readjust the piping, muttering 'come on you fucker, be nice' as he muscled the thing shut. He would need to replace the oil along with replacing the calibrator for the sublight drive. Maybe they could find the part of the station, but it probably cost his left nut to buy. Which, of course, meant they would have to charge this nice old lady a full set, and Neil wouldn't do that without speaking to her first. Unless...

Footsteps approached, and Neil wheeled himself out from under the VT-1890 light transport, lifting off his stained goggles. "Hey George, we got any sublight capacitors? Fifth gen, preferably."

George was a short, older man. He had mottled, somewhat dark skin and a shaved head. He wore baggy pants and a stained shirt, moving a cart of ion power couplings. He was a little, wiry man, but he was strong as an ox. If you were as strong as George, that was worth boasting about. Neil liked the old man. George always ribbed him and he did it back.

"Mmm sublight? Nah, I don't think we got any sublight capacitors here. Maybe third gen." George theorized. "Got some oil on ya, Neil."

"Yeah, yeah. Third gen?"

"Mmhmm, third gen. Ask Griffon down the ramp. He outta know." George said, lifting the dense couplings out and setting them in the dispensers for later. Once he was half empty, he started wheeling them elsewhere to finish off the load. "Yeah, ask Griff." He repeated. Neil wasn't going to ask Griffon. Griffon was an asshole who wouldn't admit he had anything, even if it served his own purposes. Neil was going to go looking himself.

"Bout time for lunch, innit?" Neil called back as George rounded out of sight.

"Whatever you say, Neil, whatever you say." He said back, his voice carrying around. Neil grinned and hopped up, deciding he would take his break now rather than later so he could deal with the customers on a full stomach. He punched out on the dataclock and left the Colonial Mechanic, heading into the wide atrium of the Hyperium 3 Station to eat at Soak Stack, a dirty, albeit popular dive for spacers and locals alike. The logo was a busty woman balancing three frothing mugs on each hand, holding two and smiling even as the top two spilled onto her cleavage.

50 minutes later...

With a stomach of bratwurst, booze, and bread, Neil felt full to burst walking back. He had a few extra credits in his pocket from the excursion. Not many people could say they went out to eat and came back with more money than they spent, but what could he say? He was a winner. He hadn't yet wiped the oil off his face, however, other than a small rubbing with a napkin. The look suited him, he fancied. Matched his hair and eyes and reminded him of his days in the Valc, back during the war. Old memories began to creep back, but he shoved them away. Not today. He would not be scrounging up old wounds just to get depressed today. Nope.

"Mrs. Riggard is here," He heard from the office as he passed. David Alten had his eyes peeled to the cogitator, but when Neil stopped, he glanced his way. He tried to freak his employees out, as if he knew where they were with some sort of psychic powers, but Neil knew he had a camera outside of his office on a mini-window at the bottom left corner of his screen. He knew that because he had broken in before to get the keys to the warehouse for parts before. Sometimes you had to stretch the rules here if you wanted to meet the quota.

But he guessed that was every job.

"I'm bout to see her boss-man. Keep ya briches on." Neil remarked casually, striding down the corridor after only hesitating a moment.

"Next time you're late I'll write you up." He heard behind him. "Might hire one of the spacers out there, instead."

"Yessir boss!" Neil said, saluting even out of eyesight. His voice went down in volume when he spoke next. "You can space deez nuts, bitch." And facetiously groped his crotch with his back turned to the increasingly distant camera. Neil saw his friend Paul smiling, having evidently heard. They highfived and Neil turned the corner and stepped up to the front desk to see the elderly Mrs. Riggard. White haired and lined face, she wore a jumpsuit and stood alone, evidently a system traveler on a holiday, if Neil remembered correctly. The lobby was moderately sized, with multiple chairs and a telescreen at the corner for people waiting. There was a huge sign of 'no weapons allowed' at the door.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up my VT-1890," she said with a hopeful smile.

"Hi Mrs. Riggard, yeah I took a look at it yesterday and found there was a bit more work we needed to do with it. So I spent all morning with it, and it's getting oil replaced as we speak. But there's some bad news. You need a new capacitor for your sublight engine. The cost will really depend on how long you're willing to wait."

There was a small gleam in her eye, as if Neil was a challenge to be overcome. He admired the tenacity, but unfortunately no matter what she did, capitalism was going to win. "And what is a capacitor exactly?" She inquired, hoping to stump Neil. Neil smiled with amusement, though he tried to hide it.

"A capacitor is in your engine is needed for torque, ma'am. It connects the wires and is used to giving your sublight engines a bit more oomph."

She shook her head in little movements, as if she was trying to get Neil to speak in even more layman terms. Neil's opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. He placed his hands together like he was performing shadow puppets and moved them from left to right. "So, you want your ship to go zoom zoom? Then a capacitor is needed. You can wait a day and pay a lot, or wait two weeks and pay kind of a lot. And before you ask, I am the manager." He lied, placing a hand to his chest.

Mrs. Riggard blustered, and then walked away, pulling out her communicator and calling whoever in order to vent or wire money, he didn't know. Neil placed his elbows on the counter and watched her walk away with a blasé expression writ across his face. "Ah, the wonders of retail." He said aloud, before the next in line walked up to speak to him. He realized he should have escaped to the back before, so he pushed himself up off the desk.

"Sorry, I'mma need to-" He started, lifting his thumb back to point at the door, about to say he was getting back to it. But the latest customer was probably the hottest woman he had seen in months. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed her before. Neil dropped his hand and felt his mouth go dry. "Uh, something you need?"