The agent crept through the shrouding darkness, her knife blackened, her clothing blending seamlessly into the background. The corridors were almost silent, the only sounds were the breathing of the guards. The agent flattened herself against a wall, warned by the quiet footsteps of a guard. Looking to the end of the corridor, she saw the guard walk past, not bothering even to glance in her direction. The agent moved quickly and silently, almost wraithlike, as she followed the guard. The guard kept walking, following his patrol, seeming not to notice the shadow that was following him. The agent closed on her target, knife ready, the blackness on the blade seeming to glisten slightly.
The guard came to a locked door, and paused to enter the pass code. The agent watched carefully, sliding the knife into a thigh sheath as she did so, memorising the code as the guard punched it in. With a hiss and a click, the door slowly started to open inward, and the agent struck. She dropped a looped cord over his head and heaved back. She caught the guard's gun as he released it to try and loosen the cord. The guard scrabbled at the cord, trying to release the pressure on his windpipe. The agent yanked back on the cord one more time, and the guard went limp. She dragged the corpse back to the darkened corridor, and pulled out a pentorch. The agent scanned the dead mans face, trying to memorise the details, the subtleties. She pulled out an injector, bared her upper arm, and jabbed it home.
The agents outline blurred, swelling and changing. A long ponytail sprouted out of the back of the agent's head, the clothes falling away as the assassin stood up, her outline stabilising. She thumbed the switch on the gauntlet on her right hand, and smiled as the phase blade flashed into existence. Depressing the switch again, she quickly stripped the dead guard, checking for any more information on the man she had just killed. But what was a man, she thought, compared to the wishes of the Emperor? She had to be absolutely loyal to Him and she was to kill His enemies. She was to be the hand in the darkness, had to kill from the purity within her. The Emperor had sacrificed Himself so that the Imperium could survive, so what was the sacrifice of one man compared to that?
A search of the pockets revealed an ID card, from which the assassin found out the now deceased mans name: Bernard Divintine. A strange name, she thought, unusual in a society of conformity. At least she would know when she was being talked to. But what was the mindset of this man, what were his aims, his ideals? She needed to know these for her transformation, but would they would be hard to obtain.
She planted a small pyro-charge on the body, and activated it, watching the corpse burn to the point that not even ashes remained. There would be no trace of her actions. The assassin bundled up the guard' s clothes and possessions and put them under one arm, and slung the gun over her shoulder. It would be unwieldy if she had to fight her way out, but would be needed when she made the transformation.
Moving quickly, she headed back to the locked door, which hung partially open. She checked the ammunition in the autogun, and stepped through the door, pulling it shut behind her. Once it latched, she turned and scanned the room. Computer terminals, but no one using them. At this time of night, it was unlikely that anyone would be using them anyway. She moved over to the nearest of the terminals, and saw they were ID activated. She dug in the pocket of the uniform, and pulled out the ID of the dead guard. Would this work? She hoped so.
* * *
In the security room of the complex, a guard turned to look at one of the status screens, when a flashing light caught his eye. "Boss," he said. "We may have an intruder."
A tall dark haired man walked over to him. "What do you mean?" He said.
"Well, sir, we have an unauthorised access to one of the computers in Section Alpha 3. It's been accessed under the ID of Guard Divintine, but he didn't report in at the last check. That's unusual for Divintine. I'd recommend sending a team down to see what's going on."
"I agree. Send Team-3; they've only been on exercises for the last couple of weeks anyway. They need the practice."
"Right, sir"
* * *
There wasn't much material under his user name, but what she found more than gave the assassin the mindset of the guard she had killed. Religious documents, weapons data; he'd built up quite a library here that he shouldn't have had access to. Most of the religious documents were heretical anyway, and merely looking at them would have been enough to sentence him to an Inquisitorial interrogation. It was a good job she'd killed him already. At least it was a clean death, with no suffering, the total opposite to what he'd have had had the Inquisition gotten hold of him. Well, anything against the Emperor's rule needed eradicating, and she was the assassin for the job.
Now she had the mindset, the ID and the body shape all firmly set in her mind. She logged out of the workstation, and put the guard's clothes on loosely - she'd fasten them properly when she'd transformed. Next, she pulled out a silencer from one of her belt pouches, and dropped it in one of the uniform's pockets. If she needed to shoot anyone while in disguise, she could use it so they wouldn't be able to tell by the sound where the shot came from. The assassin pulled out the injector again, and jabbed herself in the arm, keeping the picture of the guard uppermost in her mind.
The polymorphine chemical coursed through her system, loosing cellular bonds. With the picture of the guard fixed in her mind, the agent set about changing the shape of her body. The legs were too long, too feminine. The face flowed into the face on the ID card. The agent appeared to put on weight, her body expanding until the guard's uniform fitted well. As the polymorphine released her cells, and the bonds grew back, she opened her eyes and breathed deeply, before quickly redoing all the fasteners.
She was just in time. As she picked up her autogun, the door swung open, and five armed men ran in, with two more covering them from behind, their boltguns constantly changing aim as they scanned the room. She span around, to see the men halt. One stepped forward, and said "Guard Divintine?"
"Yes?" She replied, before seeing the insignia on his shoulder and adding. "Sir?"
"You missed the report at oh-two-hundred hours. See that it doesn't happen again."
"Uh, yes sir." She said quickly. "Something appears to have gone wrong with my commlink, so I was on my way round to the workshop."
"Why had you logged in on that workstation?" The commando asked.
"Did I?" She turned to look. "Oh, I was seeing if there was anyway that I could repair it. I don' t like bothering the adepts more than necessary, you see. They' re a bit creepy."
"Right. Well, get going then" The commando ordered. He watched the guard pick up his weapon and head out of the door. "Team-3 to Command. According to Divintine there was a commlink malfunction and he was just trying to fix it, over."
"Have you sent him to the tech-adepts?" The voice at the other end of the line asked.
"Yes, sir. My team and I are returning to command now."
* * *
The agent walked away, trying to remember from memory the floor plans for the complex. Turn right here then turn left here and then follow the passage to this junction, and then it's the third door on the right. Here it is, she thought, the Mechanicus depot. Now, she asked herself, how to damage the commlink without making it look obvious. Well, that wasn't really a problem. She plucked the earpiece out and pulled at the speaker until it came loose. The quality of the Mechanicus wasn't as high as it used to be. Now she knew that her disguise was working; but how to accomplish her mission?
Firstly, she' d have to get the commlink repaired - if she didn't, part of her cover story was already broken. Then she would have to work her way into the bodyguard of her target, closing in for the kill. Once the kill was complete, she had to escape, relatively undetected, and get back to her ship. Looking at her objectives, the first and the third, she realised, were going to be the easiest to complete. How could she get into the bodyguard? Then it struck her.
* * *
Scribe Safra was on his way home from the complex, walking hurriedly along the uneven streets. Annoyed, he wondered why any Adeptus worker didn't get better treatment - in another position, he' d have gotten at least a groundcar and driver, but on this dirtball? He thought himself lucky that he' d gotten his accommodation paid for. No wonder the complex couldn't keep it's personnel for long.
He had almost reached his apartment when he noticed one of the complex' s security guards stood outside his door. Strange, he thought. None of them were supposed to know where the Adeptus lived. Safra kept on walking, all the time wondering what the guard wanted and how he had found where he lived.
"Excuse me," the guard - Divintine, Safra could see from the man' s ID - said when he was close enough. "I believe you are the man in charge of personnel at the complex?"
"Yes, I am." Replied Safra.
"Well, how would I go about becoming part of the bosses bodyguard?" The guard asked.
"Normally," the scribe replied, relieved that the question was about his work, not the other matter that was on his mind. "Normally, the selection of a bodyguard comes from performance overviews - the boss likes to have the best men at his side at all times. At the moment, though, he' s got a squad of mercenaries in to be his bodyguard."
"So there' s no way to get into the bodyguard?" The guard asked, his shoulders slumped.
"Well there' s one way." The scribe replied. At least this annoying guard could be useful after all. "If you would care to come inside."
* * *
The guard smiled, and reached under her uniform, touching the butt of her weapon as she entered the Scribe's dwelling. Unwittingly, the Scribe had played right into her hands. As she crossed the threshold, the lights came on, lighting the place with a dim illumination. The Scribe busied himself, getting her a drink, getting her seated. Once the guard was seated comfortably, the Scribe sat and faced her.
"So," The Scribe said, casually flicking the switch on a black box by his side. "You want to get into the Governors bodyguard?"
"Yes, I've told you that once already." The guard replied.
"Well, I'll be blunt. It'll cost you." The Scribe told her. "I mean, arranging an accident to happen to one of the mercs wouldn't be easy, and then I'd have to manipulate your profile to put you at the top of the ratings. These things use up credits, you know."
"How about this," the guard said, pulling an ornate gauntlet from inside her armour.
"You do what I tell you, and," as the phase blade sprang to life, "I won't have to kill you."
The Scribe recoiled back, shock utmost on his face. As the assassin watched him in the blue glow off the weapon, she saw fear surface. As she kept her eyes on him, she reached under her uniform and retrieved an autopistol. The Scribe could see that it had been modified, that the barrel had been lengthened somehow.
"I don't want to have to kill you," she said. "I know that you'll have no difficulty getting me into the bodyguard. If you don't, remember this: I know where you live." With that, she drew her arm back, ready to stab.
The Scribe shut his eyes. He hadn't expected this - how could he have known that the guard would threaten him. Then he heard the rush of air as she jabbed forward, and he flinched, all the time thinking that this wasn't a brave way to die. After three heartbeats, he dared to open his eyes. The guard was still sat where she had been all the time, looking at him with contempt open in her eyes, the ornate gauntlet hidden once more. What had she struck at, he wondered. Then a crackle caught his attention, and he looked down to his left, and saw that his screening device was holed clean through, wrecked, probably beyond repair.
The assassin looked at him a moment more, before rising and walking to the door. She turned at the door, only to see that he hadn't moved.
"I'll be back tomorrow," she said. "I'll expect everything arranged by then." Then before giving him time to say anything, to make any excuse, she walked out of the building.
* * *
A day later, she was called into the office of the Governor. Even though she was expecting it, it still came as a surprise. She didn't think that the scrawny, cowardly Scribe had it in him. As she walked into the office, she casually looked around, taking in all the security details, the cameras, the bodyguards, and decided that this wasn't an appropriate place to attempt the assassination. There were too many guards, too many defences, and she didn't feel like fighting her way out of the complex. No, another time, another place would be more conducive to a successful assassination. After all, she was meant to take out as few people as possible, only to kill her target, and those that obstructed her.
The Governor motioned her to sit down, and looked at her over steepled fingers. She sat in her seat, calmly looking back, waiting for him to make the first move. Finally, after a minute, he sat back.
"Frankly," he said. "I'm surprised. I didn't think that I needed an extra bodyguard, but the recommendation has come up, and you've been transferred to it. You know I expect absolute loyalty, to me above all others?"
"Yes sir." She replied dutifully.
"I will expect you to be ready to lay down your life to protect mine. Are you happy with that?"
"Yes sir." She replied again.
"I will also expect you to come to some special services with me. The first of these will be tonight. Meet me here at 1400 hours. Is that understood?"
"Yes sir." She said, keeping her eyes focused on a point six inches to the right and one foot above the Governor's head.
"Dismissed."
* * *
It was the time. She had no idea what or where this "service" would be, but from the information that she'd been given on him at the start of the mission, there was a better than evens chance that he would be worshiping one of the Dark Pantheon, one of the Dark Gods of Chaos. She checked her weapons, and prepared another dose of polymorphine - while the guards shape was a good disguise, she'd need her Neural Shredder, and that was part of her assassin shape. As it was, the phase sword would be enough to put the closest guards out of business, while she transformed back to her assassin shape.
She checked her chrono again, and slid the gauntlet and autopistol back into their sheaths in her clothes. Then she put her supposedly bulletproof flak helmet on and walked from the room, heading to the Governor's office.
It took her five minutes to walk up to the office, and by the time she got there, she had a plan fully formulated in her head. The bodyguards would have no chance; the brain debilitating effects of the Shredder would take care of them. She knocked on the door of the office, and at the call, entered.
It was almost as she had expected. A doorway, previously hidden behind a set of filing cabinets stood open, and the smell of sulphur was permeating the room. She snapped off a salute.
"Reporting as ordered, sir." She said.
"At ease, Divintine. We'll be going down in a minute - a couple of the others are a bit late. It would be better if you donned this," he said, pointing at a hooded robe. "It'll hide your face - it's better that we remain anonymous down there." He watched as she walked over and put on the garment, then smiled as the door opened behind her, to admit two more of the bodyguard, escorting another person in one of the hooded garments. "Ah, it is time we descended."
The group walked through the doorway, and down a set of steps that appeared to have been carved from the rock itself. All the time, the assassin wondered which of the Dark Pantheon this cult supported, which powers the Magos would benefit from. At each step, she prepared for the injecting, the device hovering just above the palm of her hand. She could jab it in undetected, and have her weapons ready in a matter of seconds.
The steps finished in a large cavern, with boiling geyser pits around the edge, obviously the place where the stench of sulphur was coming from. Hell and brimstone, she suddenly thought. On the opposite side of the cavern there hung a huge eight-pointed star - the eye of Horus, the symbol that the enemies of the Imperium had gathered under for over ten thousand years. At the sight of the most enduring symbols of suffering that the Imperium had ever had, she could wait no longer. The injector slipped into the flesh of her hand, as she stopped moving.
The transformation was quicker this time, as she returned to a shape that she knew well. Her ponytail emerged from her head once more, the clothes of the guard hung loose at her sides, the backpack emerged from her back, Neural Shredder primed and ready. She slipped the gauntlet from its hiding place in the guard's clothes as the polymorphine wore off, pulling it on as her shape stabilised.
With one swift movement, she thumbed the switch, the crackle of the energy balde as it burned through her disguise alerting the bodyguard to her presence. They span round, weapons ready, but she was better prepared than they were. Even as the first of them opened fire, she was diving to the side, behind a spire of rock, the powered feed of her Shredder flipping it over her shoulder as she landed, into her hand. She aimed it at the biggest bunch of the robed guards that she could, and eased the trigger back. A pulse of light shot down the crystalline element that was the equivatent of a barrel on the weapon. Eight of the nine robes collapsed to the ground immediatly, blood gushing from eyes and noses and running in rivulets across the ground towards the Chaos symbol.
The ninth stood there, then turned, his boltgun coming up and firing, sending chips off the stone spire she was hiding behind with each shot. It would take nearly twenty more seconds for the Shredder to charge up again, so instead she released it, letting it flip back to the backpack as she drew a needle-thin blade from her thigh sheaths. She held it for a second, judging the angle, then threw it.
It flew in a shallow arc, embedding itself in the guard's throat. He gave a gurgle as his windpipe shattered, then collapsed as the blade pierced his spine and the poison coursed through his system. She turned, looking for her primary target. He was hurrying towards the star, probably to summon a daemon of some sort. She rose from behind the spire, sprinting towards the Governor, activating her phase sword as she ran. The guards turned to face her as she ran, their boltguns up and firing, but she dodged left and right, avoiding the bullets with ease.
To the guards it seemed like they could't touch this thing, the explosions from the bolt shells giving a lurid backlight to the sprinting assassin. She was among the guards with in seconds. The first stood no chance, as she swung the phase blade in a short arc, taking the top of his head off with as much as ease as if it had been a boiled egg. A short stab dispatched the second, a burned hole through the heart leaving him with a smoking wound and no life.
She drew a poison blade from her thigh sheath as she parried the blow of the this mercenary, the phase blade slicing through the ammunition, the exploding rounds sending splinters of red-hot metal spinning through his eyes and into his brain. A quick stab took out the fourth, the poison from the smaller blade stopping his heart in a second. The last two went down to a low sweep, eviscerating both, laying their guts open.
The assassin turned to face the Governor, the recharged Shredder flipping back overfs her shoulder as she replaced the poison blade. "For your crimes against the Emperor, I sentence you to death, Chaos worshipper, rebel. I can only guess at what he will do to you."
With that she fired the Shredder, halving his brains power, cutting off its control. His eyes locked with hers as his whispered one question as the glowing blade swung in to finish him off. "Who are you? What are you?"
And as the C'tan weapon pierced his skull, he heard one final word :
"Callidus." |
