Faction Shadows in the Deep

Baal
Hivus Primus
Lower Levels

Lights flickered up and down the narrow Hive city corridor as a platoon of the 8th made their way further into the bowels of the lower levels. Just above the underhive. Lucius leveled his newly issued autogun with practiced precision, keeping it at a low ready as he moved, occassionaly shining his weapon's light on dark corners and behind the objects littered about the hall. It was an apartment complex, according to official records, with people living on top of one another like animals. In the hallway sat ramshackle tents, housing the dejected and addicted. Outcasts from polite society in general, just a step above the mutants mere levels below. An occassional shadow met their barrels meekly, creating a sense of both pity and disgust in the Shock Troopers. Lives and potential wasted in the degeneracy of fallen lives and minds. Far from the Emperor's Light.

Their mission was at the end of the hallway, down the stairs to the level below. Reports of a non compliant gang had made their way to the upper levels, from the Spiders and those that followed the Imperial Order. They'd taken it upon themselves to not pay their taxes to the local nobility and robbed an Imperial Convoy or two. One that they were sure of. The penalty of course was death, total erradication of the troublesome group. All gangs on Hivus Primus operated under the same set of rules to maintain themselves under the eyes of the authorities. Violation of which, was cause for removal from the currently occupied plain of existence. The Spiders had provided the 8th with the necessary information, and the newly promoted Lieutenant Redmond found himself leading his platoon, now made up of mostly seasoned members after their scrap with the orks, with a peppering of new men replacing those that died.

He'd been in command two weeks.

Their rifles were loaded with a round that had a lead core, copper jacket, and red colored grain steel tip. Perfect for penetrating basic armor and creating large cavity wounds and devastating bleeding, both internal and external. Something the 8th were learning to value with their newly issued rifles. A lazgun was fine, certainly, but it didn't leave a blood trail to follow or cause the enemy a slow death from a non lethal wound. Particularly at the ranges the shock troops often found themselves engaged.

Lucius's platoon slowed as they approached the closed door leading towards the stairwell leading downward. Silently approaching it with guns razed as some fanned out to either side of the door, while the others hung back, avoidong flagging each other with their muzzles in a practiced, fluid manner.
 
Amongst the grizzled soldiers, stood a man who wore no uniform of the platoon around him, his clothes were tailored, clean, the great coat that was made of fabric they had likely never seen before and under it lay a Carapace chestplate, hot shot pistol in his hand, with a power sword at his hip and next to it lay his badge of office, an Inquisitorial Rosette. Leopold didn't care for the gang; they had overstepped their bounds, and authorities were correcting, something generally he wouldn't get involved in, but it was what they had stolen from the Convoys that had piqued his interest.

He had been following the Lieutenant like his shadow, sticking close. Remond was green, though he trusted he had at least been trained well; if it was necessery he would take command and issue orders, but only if things were to go wrong and Remond proved ineffective. No need to ruffle the feathers of the local militarum; he was here technically as an observer.

"Are you ready to get this party started, Lieutenant?" He asked Redmond, stacked againest the wall with him


Redmond
 
"Always, sir." Lucius said flatly. He'd found detached professionalism the best way to handle the Inquisition and their various organs, among other similar organizations. Some were decent, some were horrible, it was like flipping a quarter. Both tended to respond well to professionals.

Lucius nodded at both the Inquisitor and his team, prompting the later to push the door's control panel, sending it sliding upward on squalling, ancient gears into the housing above. They quickly and quietly fanned into the stairwell, flashing their lights in the darkened corridors, some up, some down. The entire stairwell was an abandoned looking mess, with holes in sections of the floor and rusted railing along the rarely tredded concrete. Rats and other small rodents peered out from cracks in the walls as Imperial boots disturbed them and the dust. Autoguns for threats continuosly as Lucius motioned the platoon further down the stairwell, taking their time as they made their way down the rickity construction.

Not a single sign of civilization. Perfect place for the type of scum they were after. They moved down several levels this way, not talking and avoiding flaws in the structure before hitting the bottom of the stairwell, a single door sat at the bottom, with a small sliver light escaping from tiny gaps on it's frame. Exactly where their snitch said it would be. The platoon silently formed up again along the walls. Lieutenant Redmond took point. Lucius flipped his weapon's safety off and flicked the door's control panel, raising his rifle as the door began to slide open. light flooded the darkened corridor and revealed a tiny hallway, only five by six or so, and about a hundred meters long from what the guard could tell on initial glance. As the door raised he locked eyes with and centered his sights on a shabby looking ganger with a surprised expression and an autogun slung low on his right shoulder. In his left hand sat a mug of rotgut. A drunk sentry. Lucius fired and sent two rounds into the man's torso before sending another into the brain as the watchman fell. The sentry kept that same expression as he fell against the cover that served as both a barricade and front desk of sorts for the hideout, according to the snitch's information. Lucius moved in quickly, slotting another as they attempted to raise their weapon before continuing down the narrow hallway in a half sprint against the wall until the hallway widened into a larger area, filled to the brim with imperial cargo and gangers just now swinging their weapons about to the sudden assault. Behind him his team fired as they collectively pushed into the space, takong cover where they could and laying down accurate fire on their confused enemies. The room looked equally ancient and unused besides the scattering of equipment, tents, and other ammenities for the gangers watching over the place. Evidently they'd chosen to place their barracks near the front, would've been a good decision if they'd reacted faster. They shouted out strings of curses and alerts as the survivors scrambled backwards and into another section with preset defenses, firing at the invaders as they scrambled desperately back.

Leopold von Drakken III
 
Up until now Vex hadn't been doing much. She'd been staying with the forward unit of shock troopers as an attached auxilliary officer. In truth, at least personally, she was there to protect the unit from the inquisitor if the need arose. Not overtly of course, she wouldn't dream of raising her weapon against the Emperor's Holy Inquisition. No, absolutely not. Rather she figured that if something went awry and punishment was to be meted out, it was better coming from her than the Inquisition. After all it was her direct duty to maintain loyalty, discipline and morale among the troops, not the Inquisitor's. So if she were to do her duty she could prevent the Inquisitor from getting too involved, which in turn meant a happier ending for everyone.

As such she'd remained silent but present the entire time. Power Falchion sheathed at her side, and Bolt Pistol held ready in her left hand to engage the enemies of the Emperor and his servants. Unlike the shock troopers and the Inquisitor that accompanied them, Vex wore no armor to speak of, protected by nothing but her uniform. Her wargear was her weapons, and nothing else. Meaning she wasn't much use in the vanguard until an outright firefight, which she would not have to wait long for.

A firefight broke out as they began to enter the gangers' lair, where the scum had chosen to hide like the rats they were. The unit began to split up a little bit to cover more, and Vex joined them, taking shots with her bolt pistol at the retreating foe reducing entire parts of their bodies to mist when the explosive projectile hit home in center mass. And she moved with the unit as they moved, drawing her power falchion and ready to hack and slash when she got close enough to the foe to do so. The enemy began to fall back in a scramble very quickly, and she figured it was best not to let them entrench themselves in a second defensive position.

She broke away from the main unit, her legs carrying her at a dead sprint after the fleeing gangers, gaining ground on the scrambling enemies with the intent to breach their defensive position before they could entrench themselves in it and give the shock troopers an easier time making headway. They could hardly afford a lengthy gunfight, and Vex intended to prevent this from lasting any longer than it absolutely had to. Her Falchion blazed with the fury it's machine spirit was made for, and as she approached the first section or barricades she vaulted them, planted her boot in the face of one ganger, then swung her falchion at another to cut him down. A disruption in their first line of defense was formed, that could become a breach if capitalized on. And if the shock troopers were as good as she knew them to be, they would utilize this and keep moving forward with haste.

The longer this momentum was maintained, the better they would be in the end.

Redmond Leopold von Drakken III
 
The Commissar was doing well to prove herself to third platoon so far, diving into the thick of it with the best of them. Blood flashed as the various blades found their marks and autoguns fired sporadically into the retreating gangers. They were quite a bit more numerous than expected, but no where near as fierce as the shock troops or Commissar. They quickly secured the large bay like space and pushed further into the compound, with opened into a gigantic warehouse like compartment, probably an abandoned section of a factorum or another obsolete manufacturing center. The view was beautiful, inspite of the sporadic gunfire incoming from the various balconies and catwalks high above the Guard and the ancient machines around them. Light from the upper levels streamed in through cracks in the ceiling as muzzle flashes illuminated the abandoned workshop further.

They pushed in, firing above and shifting behind pieces of cover as they moved towards the other end of the compartment as two squads split off and up the catwalks to deal with the fire from up high.

Leopold von Drakken III Commissar Vex Pevicci
 
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