Dusk - 1

[rarves]

The air smelled of musk. Burning promethium and dung were heavy in the air, but to the two hive boys this thickness of the air was alien. Regardless of what they thought of the air they were here for a purpose, to get paid and to get on the good side of their new employer. As they stepped down from the back of the shuttle the pilot wasted no time in raising the ramp and prepping the engines for launch. Getting his message, time set parked is time wasted, the duo quickly opened the blast doors entered the facility beyond.
Calling this place a port authority office would be a great disrespect to port authority offices across the Imperium. One PDF trooper napped on a bench while the only other tried his best to make one of the female window clerks, meant to answer any questions travelers might have, laugh. He was not successful. As they walked towards the double doors leading into the street Mercutio flashed his most roguish grin at the girl, receiving a smile in return. The trooper talker to her gave him only a glare.
“Knock it off Plex, the last thing we need is attention.” Malaclypse half whispered, half growled, at his companion.
“Just having a little fun before work, milord seriousness of grump.” Mercutio responded. Malaclypse did not bother with a response, though he was fairly certain that having a little fun was what had caused Mercutio Plex to be in an Arbites Precinct House in the Nelle Underhive before he was pressed into the service of his Emperor. This was why he preferred to work alone.
Through the wooden doors the men caught their first real sight of Devil’s Tail. As one of the largest cities on Dusk they had been expecting something similar to the hives where they had spent their entire lives. Instead Mercutio Plex and Malaclypse Grimm were treated to a wide street with brick buildings on either side and oil lamps lighting the people going on about their business. Occasionally a land car rolled by, but the vast majority of street traffic were carriages and carts pulled by horses. As the name stated, Dusk was a world cast into perpetual dusk by its unique position between a gas giant and the system’s sun. No matter the time of day it was always almost dark, leading the companions to both silently wonder what time it was locally.
“I say we go make ourselves patrons of one of the fine local establishments across the way there.” Mercutio pointed at the saloons and brothels that surrounded the starport.
“No.” Grim replied, looking for a way to flag down a carriage, and praying one of the few prays in his life that this backwater swamp pit was advanced enough to accept thrones as currency.
“Come on! Why not?” Mercutio pleaded, initially trying to look hurt to try and guilt Malaclypse into going, but realizing the chances of that working were not even worth effort.
“Because we have work to do. And you have somewhere in the range of twelve thrones, and the company you could afford with that would not be pleasant.” The other man responded plainly, already walking towards a line of carriages beside the sidewalk. Mercutio opened his mouth to say something, but decided that whatever he had to say also would not be worth the effort. As much as he wanted to just leave Grimm to continue on their job, and himself go trick some thrones out of these local rubes, he was somewhat scared to be on his own in such a foreign place, and did not want his new master coming to retrieve the nice gifts he had given them.
“Where to sir?” An overly enthusiastic carriage driver asked as Grimm approached.
“That tower.” Grimm pointed towards the imposing Inquisitorial Tower rising up through the mist and half-light across the city.
“You wouldn’t be friends of some fella named Lys would you?” The question made Grimm immediately nervous, he did not think anyone would be throwing around the name of an Imperial Inquisitor so lightly.
“We are. Has he made prior arrangements with you?” Malaclypse was hoping that maybe their new Inquisitor had made arrangements for them and they could still do their job on time anyhow. And the sooner they could get to Onis, the sooner Grimm could see one of the only things he called a friend in this world.
“Nope.” The driver tipped his hat towards another carriage waiting down the line, “But my friend down there was waiting for a couple of friends of Lys.” Grimm thanked him, handed him a couple of thrones, and started towards the indicated carriage. One his way he grabbed Mercutio, who had already began less than civil conversation with two ladies of the evening nearby, and reached the indicated carriage. In his head he was thankful that the man had accepted his tip of Imperial thrones, maybe there was a little bit of civilization here after all.
The driver, whose wooden carriage was all black and made deep green curtains in the windows, was reading a book when the two men approached. Not until Grimm tapped a nearby street lamp did the driver look up.
“Sorry sirs, but this coach has been rented out for the even-“ The driver stopped as he noticed the attire of the men standing before him. The deep robe of Grimm and the garish colors and flamboyantly brimmed hat of Plex stood out from the drab suits and long dresses popular amongst the natives.
“We’re here from Lys.” Grimm simply stated, staring at the man. Mercutio gave a tremendous bow.
“Been expecting you for a while, glad to see you’re here safely. I pray the trip through the void was pleasant.” The driver said, though he was already climbing done to open the doors and did not really seem to actually care how their trip had been. After opening the side doors for them he went to the back of the carriage, but seeing that they had no luggage he returned to the doors and waited.
“Thank you kindly my good man.” Mercutio said with a smile. “We were told there would be refreshments?” He said this too with a smile, though it was completely fabricated.
“I’m terribly sorry sirs, I did not realize that was part of the request. Please do not bother with the tipping me, for I have already performed a unsatisfactory duty.” The man did look genuinely sorry, and confused. He closed the doors after Grimm seated himself and climbed back onto his seat and started the horses clip-clopping done the cobblestone road.

[rarves]

“He may not have had food, but at least we didn’t have to tip him.” Mercutio told Plex, looking pleased with his cleverness of even getting out of a few thrones worth of expense. Grimm did not justify his happiness with a response. The interior of the carriage was upholstered in deep green satin, with windows that allowed Grimm to watch their surroundings.
“Put that away, we don’t need to be showing off our new gifts like we’re some kind of glam-boy gunslingers.” Mercutio looked at Grimm with frustration, but ultimately put his new gun back in the holster. Both of the men had received amazingly well crafted revolvers from Lys, each on was silver plated with tiny golden skulls on the cylinder where each bullet rested and gold Aquila on each side of the barrel.
“This is without doubt the nicest gun I have ever owned. I like to appreciate its beauty. Do you not like yours?” Mercutio asked hopefully. He had been debating the whole trip on the Explorer’s Dream to Dusk whether or not he would sell the gun. It really was the nicest thing he had ever owned, though his new hat was a close second, but it did worry him that their master’s new gift was a weapon. In truth he had only fired a gun once, and that had been an accident. If Grimm did not want his he could take it and sell one and keep the other.
Grim stared at him very intently for moment then continued looking at the passing city outside. By the leisurely stroll of the people outside and the bands playing music on the streets, Grimm was guessing it was the local equivalent of evening here. He had already become somewhat used to the smells of the place, but now the smells of food cooking did remind him that it had been some time since he enjoyed a warm meal. Not that he allowed himself many pleasures in life, but a well prepared meal was one of his favorite experiences.
The carriage passed through the busy streets and gently bounced along the road, while soft lamp light shown in. Grimm looked at Plex in disapproval, because he had fallen asleep in his seat, then diverted his eyes back outside. He was able to glimpse the lights of the Inquisitorial Tower and thought it odd that they still did not seem to be that close, even after half an hour of travel. He pictured in his head the streets they had passed and realized the city was built in a grid pattern, so the streets should be able to get them to their destination quickly. He tried to the door, but found that it was barred shut from some kind of mechanism withing the door itself.
His well tuned instincts kicked in and he slid his sleeve up revealing the bodysuit beneath as well as his most precious possession. Archbishop Silon Qualto, the monster that he was, had given it to him to carry out his discreet duties. It appeared as just a leather bracer on his right arm with some kind of mechanism on top, but could be unfolded into a miniature crossbow that fired tiny darts. Often the darts themselves did little more than sting their target, but poison that Malaclypse coated the dart in had a much more substantial effect. The little device was virtually undetectable and had saved his life, and taken a life, more times than he could recall. After readying the bolt with a strong knock-out agent he checked his new revolver. The pistol was very nice, he had disassembled it and cleaned its working on the ship while en route here. It was loaded and ready to go, but he hoped he would not have to use it. Guns were loud and generally clumsy and not how he preferred to operate.
Grimm nudged Plex awake with his boot and informed him that something was wrong. Grimm was impressed that Plex was smart enough not to start babbling.
“Are you sure it’s a trap Malaclypse?” Was the only question he asked. Grimm only nodded. Plex pulled his own revolver out and checked that it was loaded. He may not have ever shot another man, on purpose, but he had taken the time to familiarize himself with his weapon on the trip to Dusk, as well as read a few primers from the ship’s library on the use of ballistic weapons.
After another ten minutes the carriage entered a warehouse district that was devoid of life. Grim now knew for certain it was a trap. An isolated part of town with plenty of buildings to obscure the noise was a perfect place to take to people to kill them, or worse, and this warehouse district fit the bill perfectly. After travelling for several minutes between the warehouses the carriage turned and entered one of the massive buildings.
Once inside the duo could hear the door being closed behind them. Inside the building was full of barrels and smelled strongly of barley. Large electric light fixtures illuminated the twenty armed people below in cold, white light. The carriage stopped and the driver opened the door and beckoned for the men to come out.
“The minions of the oppressive Inquisition, I assume?” A female sporting a pistol on each hip asked once the men were standing on the warehouse floor. Grimm did not respond, instead he counted the twenty men and women sporting shotguns and autoguns and determined that his one dart was not going to be enough.
“And who might we have the honor of being kidnapped by milady?” Mercutio asked with a grand bow and a swirl of his hat. He gave her his most salacious smile.
“Miss Kirby Yann and the Dusk Liberators. But we are not kidnapping you Imperial dogs, we are going to make an example of you.” She returned her own cruel smile, which Mercutio thought still did not tarnish her pretty face, and beckoned two men with knives forward.
“Please listen, I think you have a mistake!” Mercutio took on his most worried and fearful expression. “We are simply traders here on business we have no dealings with the Inquisition!” He pleaded and cried. The two men with knives looked at each other and back at Yann, who looked slightly doubtful herself. She had expected brave minions of the Inquisition who would stay Inquisition off of Dusk and hopefully the Imperials soon after, but maybe these really were just two travelling businessmen.
“What is your trade?” She demanded, the knife men standing close, uncertain of whether they should strike or leave the men alone.
“Please don’t kill us ma’am. We’re so far from home and family and just want to try and make a living like anyone else.” Mercutio was sobbing now. Grimm stood silently, still trying to plot a way out of this situation. He was unsure of what Plex was doing, but it was working to delay their deaths.
“I said, what is your trade?” Yann asked again, angrier this time.
“We trade in furs from the finest Scintillian grox! We’re here to supply local businesses with out luxury goods!” Mercutio was certain that these bumpkins would not know that there was no such thing as Scinitllian grox fur.
“I don’t believe you. Where are your furs?” She asked, her anger giving way to curiosity now.
“My partner is wearing our example products, to show how fine they look when worn.” Grimm chipped in, seeing that Mercutio had no immediate answer to her reasonable question.
“Even if you are just travelling traders, there is no way we can let you leave here alive. I’m sorry gentlemen.” She did look genuinely sorry as she motioned the two knife men to continue.
Just as Grimm started to raise and trigger his wrist weapon every window in the warehouse blew in. From the windows hellgun fire poured into the armed resistance members, blowing fleshing craters wherever lasbolts hit. Using this distraction Grimm fired his prepoisoned bolt into the stomach of the knifeman closest to him. An instant later Plex fired his revolver into the chest of his assailant. The two knifemen fell to the floor, one very dead and the other unconscious. They turned just in time to see Yann drawing her pistols before a lasbolt took her left arm off at the elbow.
In less than five seconds the firing was over, and a squad of maroon armored Inquisitorial storm troopers repelled from their window vantage points to the floor. Ever resistor, with exception of Yann and Grimm’s attacker was dead from precision shots. Most had never had the chance to fire. As Kirby Yann’s eyes glazed over with shock a trooper wearing a black armor with a worn, brown leather trench coat applied an electric shock from his tazer that zapped her into unconsciousness. He then looked up at Grimm and Plex and removed his visored helmet to reveal a middle-aged man with a scarred face and close cut red hair staring back at them.
“Are you Lys’s men?” Neither Malaclypse or Mercutio immediately answered, as last time someone had asked that they ended up in their current situation.
“If not we’ll just give you a memory wipe and put you on your way.” The man stated, as if that was supposed to be comforting.
“We are. We were sent here to deliver a package from Devil’s Tail to Onis.” Grimm responded after a couple of seconds. The idea of a mind wipe did not seem particularly pleasing.
“Excellent.” He beamed at them as the storm troopers began bagging up the bodies. “I am Acolyte Jarr, and am pleased that you got caught up in all this. Much easier to find you while putting down this little insurrection than to have to get lost wandering the city.” He patted them on the shoulder and walked out through the now opening door of the warehouse.
“We’ll get you on your way to Onis tomorrow morning.” The statement did not strike him as ironic, because there was no morning here. Only dusk. Outside he boarded a large military truck and watched as bodies were loaded.
“I am sorry for underestimating you in the past Plex. Your blathering back there is the only reason we’re not dead.” Grimm looked uncomfortable saying the apology.
“Its all cool Malaclypse. Hey, do you think we might be able to get ahold of that carriage?”
“Why?” Grimm responded immediately suspicious.
“Well if this whole Inquisitor thing doesn’t pan out we could run a cab service and make a few thrones here.” Mercutio looked pleased with himself for coming up with the idea. Grimm did not give him a response, instead he just started for the truck. Grimm was not sure what was in store for him now that he was doing the Emperor’s work, but he was certain that adventure lay ahead.