NOVEL NEXT B2 Chapter 44
The Old Guard battleship, the shipper still attached, sat cordoned off in the Lerig Imperial Megastation's cavernous landing bay for the Terran section, its writhing bio-metal hull locked under the unyielding gaze of imperial scrutiny.
Marines, clad in that branch's standard armor, swarmed the vessel, their scanners humming as they probed for hidden or shapeshifted Reptiloids.
They swept every crate, conduit, and crevice with methodical precision, blasters primed for any twitch of Heretical life. The process dragged on for long hours.
Angar and the grizzled squad of Ierne troops stood apart, already inspected, awaiting early clearance to debark. His Crusader estate, and its mantle of privilege, cut through the bureaucracy like a plasma-saw.
The marines' officer, a stern Centurion Lieutenant with a silver Trey and rank etched on his pauldrons, gave a curt nod, waving them through. Finally.
Angar and the three full squads of Ierne soldiers grabbed up the makeshift stretchers holding his easily portable loot, and headed out.
Outside the cordon, near where Deli had pinned the location of the storage crates, Kong waited, the towering Layman of flesh and steel.
The crew technicus had never seen the halls of a Cloisteranage, raised instead in a fringe cult, but graduating from one wasn't the only path to Knighthood.
Though rare, adults could ascend to Crusader status, facing testing and requirements far stricter than those of youth.
Only those within the first Tier could endure the Grim Ordeals. Those who tested at Tier 2 or 3 faced only the Psygistrion and Divine Crucible, stripped of the Penitent's Sacrarium of Sanctified Transfiguration, the Baptistry of Igneous Purgation, forgoing the sacred rites and implants.
They emerged as weaker Crusaders, mostly shunned by Knightly Chapters, usually condemned to the solitary life of a Hedge Knight.
Rarer still were those like Angar and Horridus the Mortifer, plucked from the Laity and anointed as Holy Knights by the direct hand of Holy Theosis, bypassing the trials and Ordeals entirely.
Kong had tested at peak Tier 1, endured the full Grim Ordeals, and faltered only at Theosis' Divine Crucible, accounting for the Layman's larger than usual size.
Kong's power armor groaned against that bulk, his cybernetic hands and feet gleaming under the bay's harsh lights.
The armor covered most of the man's cybernetics, as he was more machine than flesh, pushing right up to the Church's Heretical limit of 40% natural body mass.
Unhelmed, his face, more metal than man, shone with polished alloys and plates, his eyes hidden behind whirring optic lenses.
"God and Empire, Sir," Kong rumbled out with a voice like grinding boulders, nodding at Angar before eyeing the crates. "Looks like we need more storage. If your men would start loading these, I'll acquire some more."
Angar nodded, his tripod-foot clanking on the bay's pitted floor as he began loading loot alongside the Ierne soldiers.
Once finished, with new crates fetched and loaded, Angar looked to Kong for what was next.
Kong's metal jaw creaked with a half-smile. "Good haul. I'll go through it all, catalog and crate it right, and get your points squared away."
"I have more," said Angar. "A lot more. What's left of the war-machines I killed, a bunch of big mech-suits of Warforms, two Enforcer corpses, a Lieutenant corpse, and such. Rooms full of it."
Kong shook his head. "You seem set on ruining my stay in that luxury hotel, Sir."
A smile split Angar's lips. "Sorry about that."
"I'll get it taken care of," Kong replied, taking out a slate and thumbing through it. "I need your armor, Sir. I have spare clothes, a pouch, and some gloves for you. Looks like your leg could use some repairs."
They planned to meet the next day for cybernetic repairs and to discuss upgrades his new point tally would allow.
As a peak second Tier, ready to ascend after his channels were more fortified, and his core appropriately hardened and settled, he also wanted to discuss upgrading his gear.
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It wouldn't be a quick discussion. He needed to know, in great detail, if he'd save on points by having the new armor forged by one of Hidetada's companies instead of this station, and a dozen other questions.
After exiting his armor, new measurements taken, and new clothes donned, Angar said, "My hammer's banged up, but I'm keeping it with me."
Kong nodded. "The wardens are providing a comms piece for you at their bastion. You know the channel to ping Deli to connect?"
"I do."
Kong nodded again. "The boss wants you wearing it at all times. Need me to pay these men?"
"I already paid them," Angar replied.
After seeing the men off, Kong directed Angar to the customs area, for entrance into the station, and directions to the Wardens' bastion, and Angar strode away from the landing bay.
The roar of idling engines gave way to the distant clangs of cargo loaders and shouts echoing offbulkheads as he turned down the connecting corridor.
Simple but upper-class civilian clothes clung to his broad frame, loose enough to move but tight across his shoulders, the fine fabric and quality a far cry from his old sweats.
Black gloves covered his hands, holding his hammer, its scorched head a testament to the Old Guard's ruin, while a mostly empty pouch on his belt held his scant possessions.
The megastation's buzz thrummed through the air, a pulse of military, industry, aliens, and intrigue that caused excitement to stir in his gut.
He headed toward customs, the gateway to the Lerig Imperial Megastation's Terran sectors and districts. As he had yet to see a Gray or other aliens, he assumed this landing bay was only for Terrans.
The wide corridor was lined with towering pillars etched with the Imperial Navy sigil of a Trey set on a shield, crossed by mace and sword atop an ornate anchor.
A few pillars had the marine sigil, the same as the navy's, but the shield was atop golden wings. He saw only one army sigil, the shield atop a laurel wreath.
As his neck stretched around, taking in the sights, before reaching the checkpoint, three figures peeled off from the crowd, their movements too deliberate to be chance.
All three wore tailored coats over concealed armor, and all three had a predatory intent glaring in their eyes. He'd seen men dressed like this before.
Those of the Netherweb Syndicate, their galaxy-spanning criminal organization rivaling the Brothers' Pact and Underreign.
He owed the Syndicate a favor, a debt forged in a tense standoff at the false-front pub, when he'd claimed a table to meet with Simo and Veerta.
The clear leader, a lean man with a scar bisecting his brow, stepped forward, his voice slick and laced with menace. "Sir Lord Angar, we're calling in that favor you owe our organization."
He gestured to a sealed case in his left hand, like a large briefcase, with no markings, only a handle. "We need this through customs. Crusader privileges will allow you through with it. Say it's meant for an investigation your chapter's conducting. We'll meet you on the tram. After dropping it off, your debt's clear. A small favor, almost insignificant."
Angar's eyes narrowed, his free hand resting on his hammer's grip. "What's in it?" He wouldn't aid Heresy.
The leader's smiled, and it failed to reach his eyes. "Doesn't matter. Only getting it done matters."
Angar stared at the man. "Tell me."
The two others shifted, hands twitching toward hidden weapons. The leader's smile vanished, his tone hardening. "You owe us a favor. You don't want to cross us, Knight. The Syndicate's got long arms and a long memory."
The corridor's hum seemed to fade, the air charging with the promise of violence. "Understood," Angar said, raising his hammer.
The man raised a hand, his eyes wide with alarm, signaling Angar to halt.
"Stop," he quickly spat out. "By the blessed Mother's grace, you have way too short a fuse, Sir. No need for violence over a simple favor. It's just mods. Mostly mods, with a few small cybernetics. Nothing unsafe or truly illegal, just unlicensed. Those laws are meant to protect the big corporation's profits. Nothing to do with Heresy. I can open and show you."
Angar weighed the words, his jaw tightening. "Open it," he demanded.
The man glanced around, shifted the case, and cracked it open just enough for Angar to peer inside. It looked like standard mods.
He didn't trust the man, but he had no way to know if the contents were illegal or Heretical by looking at them.
A debt was a debt. He'd rather clear it than leave it hanging over him.
"Give it here," he said, taking the handle after the case was closed. It was heavier than it looked, with no rattle or movement of content within.
At customs, the imperial officials, clad in gray uniforms, barely glanced at the case. After walking through a large scanning machine, Angar's bio and status appeared on a console via some sort of detection, and he was waved through the checkpoint.
One official, a dour woman with a cybernetic eye, rescanned the case and frowned. "Detected contraband, Sir Knight," she said in a clipped voice.
"It's part of an investigation," replied Angar.
Without looking up, she said, "You can take it through, Sir Knight, but your chapter will be informed. The Smallest Spark? Never heard of that one. Oh, the beloved Saint Hidetada is the grand marshal. Go on through, Sir. Welcome to Lerig Imperial Megastation."
Angar gave a curt nod, and moved on.
At the tram platform, no Syndicate men appeared to retrieve the case. The line only ran to the administrative district, so he boarded the next arrival. He got on the next to arrive.
After it began accelerating, two men approached, their faces obscured by hooded cloaks. "We'll escort you the rest of the way, Sir," one said in a low voice.
Angar's brow furrowed. "No. I got this through customs. The favor's complete."
The man grimaced. "Sorry, Sir, but the deal was to drop it off where it needs going. There's a custos vigilum tailing us."
A custos vigilum meant a sergeant of the police, or vigiles, making the drop-off detour an understandable necessity.
Angar nodded, hoping he'd be led to a headquarters filled with criminals. If he got lucky, they'd give him reason enough to slaughter them all, and this case of mods, along with everything else there, would be his.