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Necromunda - A week of Enforcers vs Delaques

"Don't do this, Mack." Hari's voice was low, as the Enforcers moved into position around the den. Mack Crator gave her a brief, helpless glance, and turned to address his men and the frightened gamblers. "By Order of the Chamber of Commerce, and by the Laws of Necromunda and Hive Primus, this establishment has been declared illegal. All patrons will be fined, all assets will be seized, and the proprietors are to be taken in for questioning." The gang looked to Hari for leadership, as the Bucket Shop customers were rounded up and shaken down, and the enforcers started smashing up the gambling tables. "Don't do anything. Just keep schtum. We'll get through it." "But what are we going to do, Hari? The Bucket Shop is our best earner!" "We'll get the emergency stash, and set-up a new operation under the Lip. No problem." +++ Hari stared. There were armoured figures clustered around the top of the fractionator tower. They'd already fished out half of the packages from the chimney, and Mack was reaching in for more. "Don't you frakking dare, you utter *bastards*" she hissed, and signaled the rest of the gang. "Into 'em!"

+++ "I can't say I'm pleased, Crator." Neither was Mack. "You had half of them right there in front of you, in an illegal gambling den, and you couldn't pin a thing on them." "They had really good alibis, sir." He didn't add 'and your brother didn't.' "And they attacked you out at the refinery ruins, and you still didn't get any of them." "It was dark, sir." They both looked down at Crator’s helmet, and all the low-right enhancers and infra-red picts built into the visor. They didn't say anything. "I'm giving you an explicit order, Crator - bring this Hari woman in or I'll see to it you get reassigned to Arse End." Crator didn't say anything - he knew at least two of the Guilders were already in Hari's pocket, and she could probably pay any fine the Chamber agreed on anyway. And how could he catch Hari, anyway? If he was honest with himself, most of the Legitimate Businessmen were better in a scrap than his boys. At least the enforcers had better armour and all the helmet gear. He paused, thinking. He'd had an idea. "... Do we still have those tanks of Ab-Dab?" +++ Hercules tightened the last connector on their new purchase - with any luck it would give those bloody Spyrers a nasty surprise, if they came back. Hari adjusted the sling around her arm - another damn injury to cope with, and on her left side again. It wasn't making the scrapping any easier, that's for sure. Herc grinned. "Hey, boss." "Yeah, Herc?" "Maybe you should change your name to Lena." "Oh, ha-de-haha. Now can it." Hari coughed, and wondered why the skin on the back of her neck was prickling. The smog in the dome was thicker than usual, and the chemical tang wasn't the usual mix of sulphur and paint stripper. "Heads up!" she barked, and hefted her flamer. Something was very wrong. Dmitri was just staring, slack-jawed, eyes wide. "Dmitri! Fucking move it!" Dmitri just shrieked, lurched upright, and fled screaming blue murder across the warehouse. Armoured figures appeared from behind crates raising grenade launchers and boltguns, and gunned Dmitri down as he just ran and screamed. Armoured figures with helmets, and helmets with respirators. "You frakker, Mack!" yelled the Delaque, as she dragged Hercules into cover, as Enforcers appeared from every side, and denser clouds of gas billowed into the warehouse from the Spireward end. The bastard had pumped hallucinogenic gas into the building, and half her lads were already out of action. Hari risked a look around the edge of the sludge tank. If they could make it to the tunnels, she and Hercules could slip the net. She tapped Hercules' shoulder, and signaled the plan. He nodded, and they ran for the escape route, firing wildly to keep the enforcers down. And her injuries damned her. She was already seeing double from the gas, and her left leg folded underneath her as the injured muscles went into spasm. All the enforcers opened fire. +++ "Hari, look on the bright side, we let the rest of your boys get away, and we didn't hurt you that badly!" "Oh, look how grateful I am" growled the woman, and waved her manacled hands are far as the chain allowed. "What now? You throw me off the Drop?" Mack flinched. "I'm not going to do that, Hari. You're a mate. The Guild will make you cough up some dosh, and you'll have to lie low for a bit. That's all." Hari was speechless. "A mate. A MATE? Just as well I'm a mate, Mack. I'd hate to see what you'd have done next if you weren't, after you stabbed me in the back!" The enforcer didn't want to look her in the eyes. "I didn't have a choice, Hari. Orders from higher up." He glanced significantly towards the ceiling of the guardhouse. Hari sat back with a rattle of chain. "Ah. Is that how it is. Frakking typical. You ever wonder if the rest of the Imperium is like Long Drop, Mack? The nobs do whatever they like, the authorities are corrupt, everything is ruined by religious nuts, and we're too busy fighting among ourselves to deal with the actual threat?" Mack walked over to the doorway and peered out into the yellow gloom."It's not that bad, Hari. It can't be. I'm sure the God-Emperor has a plan, and that everybody has their place." The was another rattle of chains, and snort from behind him. "You think anybody could live down here, if they knew there was a choice?" Silence from the cell behind him. "Hari?" No response. Mack drew his bolt pistol and ran back into the room. The Delaque was gone, and only the open manacles remained. "You have got to be freaking kidding." +++ A vein pulsed at Onille's temple. His cyber-familiar kept flexing the bare bones of it's paws. "At least tell me you caught that Wyrd they say she consorts with." Perry the Platypus had been the most valuable employee at the Bucket Shop, Mack knew. And not because his gift to read the minds of his fellow man meant that the illegal casino won all the card games - oh no. It just ensured that the right customers won. And that any useful info about rival gangs got passed on to Mack. "Perry, sir? Sorry sir. Nobody's seen hide or hair of him in days. If he was a psyker, he knew when the hell to get out of town. He could be anywhere now." +++ Perry dragged Margaretha behind the vertical pipes - around and above him the Delaques were firing back at the Enforcers that had ambushed them. Their first volley had shredded Marg's arm, and she was already going into shock. "Do it, Per. D.. the.. do the thing." she gasped. Perry nodded, and tried to concentrate. He'd reach out with his mind-power, make the enforcer blind to the gang, giving the Delaques the edge they might need. His pulse pounded is his ears. Louder and louder. Louder and louder. He clutched at his temples and screamed. Marg stared, reached to help him, and recoiled, as Perry's scream rose higher and higher, and purple light blazed beneath his skin, and out of his mouth and eyes, and the scream just got louder and higher yet, far beyond any sane limit. And Perry imploded, skull collapsing into a point of brilliant painful purple light, and his body unraveled, spooling off the bone and up into that terrible hole in reality. And he kept screaming. Marg was screaming too now, and so were the pipes around her, howling like insane flutes as the air was sucked through them, as rust and dust and debris were dragged towards the awful howling. And Marg was screaming, howling, and dragged into the hole and the hellscape beyond. +++ Onille glared. Mack wished he was invisible. "Crator. I'd hate to think you were letting any of them get away on purpose." "Nossir. We'd never do anything like that, sir." +++ The three Delaques were already automatically turning down a side street when they saw the uniforms coming the other way. They paused when one of them called out, instead of opening fire. "Mutt? That you? We need to talk. Pax." The five enforcers really had wanted to parley. It was probably just as well Hari and Mack weren't there. Their underlings had a lot to talk about. "We're not getting our cut anymore, Mutt! The truce with your lot has been the best money I've ever had!" "And the dancers at the Bucket Shop were the shit, man." added Goodman. "I get you, buddy. We've got to talk to Hari and Mack, try and sort out something so we can get back to business as normal. I need the gelt as much as you guys do. What do you think, lads. Lads? What are you you looking at, Wer? Werewolf was staring down the length of the street. "What. The FRAK. Is that." Five armed Ogryns were coming down the road. And they had Redemptionists backing them up. +++ Onille was practically biting through the rim of his hat. Furious George was screeching and awaiting the kill-order. "Two dead. TWO OF MY ENFORCERS DEAD?" "Yessir. I'm sorry sir. It was the Ogryns, sir, I dunno how they did it, but the cult talked them into being on their side." Actually, Mack had a pretty good suspicion - when the Ogryns had stomped all over the Iron Martyrs the week before they'd effectively taken over a known cultist hide-out. There must have been some demagogue-in-training there. Or the Iron Martyrs had realised that the abhumans would be great autocannon-fodder. "Maybe I should hire the OGRYNS AS FUCKING ENFORCERS, CRATOR. They're certainly MORE EFFECTIVE THAN YOU ARE!" Crator went pale. "You don't mean it, do you sir?" Onille stood up, frothing at the mouth. "Out! GET OUT! If I see you again before you have the lot of them in shackles I'll shoot you myself!" Crator fled. This was not looking like it would be a good week...

#enforcers #delaques #necromunda #warhammer 40k #ogryns #combat servitors #furious george #redemptionists #wyrds #psykers

Necromunda - Dealing With Zealots

Fryorov staggered back to his feet, and snarled his defiance - if the degenerate Delaques thought that being drenched in blazing promethium would stop a true brother of the faith, they had another think coming. He roared to the brethren, and urged them forward, regardless of the waiting gang, and pressed the ignition switch on his chainsaw 'Jaws of the Faithful'. The weapon roared into life, the deep vibrations running down his arm and giving him an almost unsavoury thrill of anticipation. Something punched him hard, low in the back. And again. And again. The coldness and pain almost overwhelmed by the shock of surprise. He tried to turn around, but for some reason his legs didn't seem to be working. The Jaws fell from his grip, and he reached up to the arm around his throat, even as the juve sank his flickknife into Fryorov's back over and over. He tried to curse his enemy, tried to spit defiance, tried to snarl at the surprised shaven-headed woman beside the juve. But he... couldn't... quite... find the breath.

Hari gave the boy a short, appreciative nod. "Nice work, kiddo. Now lets go get the rest of the frakkers." They stepped over the body, and into the fray.

+++

Oh dear - the Iron Martyrs have been wiped out as an effective gang - Bishop Stumpy and the heavy both killed, leaving just 4 injured gangers left. To add insult to injury, they were both killed by juves, and Bishop Stumpy became an unwilling kidney donor (he rolled a double one, and the juve rolled a five and six). Aramis is retiring the gang and taking control of The Firm (the enforcers who have yet to actually show up at any of the fights yet, despite the campaign special rule) for the rest of the campaign.

#redemptionists #delaques #necromunda

Necromunda Newsletter

The Ozone Press - Now Available in Asbestos 6th of Humidor, M41.016.112.5

Feast Day of the Blessed Martyrs of Nihon who went among the vile xenos to preach the Word of the Emperor and where immolated for their faith. But just to make things absolutely clear this is not meant as a reference to anything that happened to the Iron Martyrs recently, it's just one of those coincidences that happen in a society with great range of faiths in the God-Emperor of Mankind. Cult of the Redemption, The Church of the Four-armed Father, Second Reformed Thorians, we can all just get along, right? The Editor would also like to remind everybody that Long Drop is a pious community, absolutely brimming over with faith, so much faith that there is no reason for Klovis the Redeemer to come around and put anybody to the question, especially if the question involves this paper, flaming torches, and the print stores. +++ Officer Crator of the Long Drop Enforcers would like to remind everybody that there is a standing reward offered for known outlaws, even if those outlaws have lots of friends in House Cawdor, and even if the reward is a chance to be somewhere else when the Redem^h^h^h^h^h outlaws get tracked down. +++ For Sale : One Printing Press - Willing To Swap For Travel Permits to Up-hive +++ For Sale : Blessed Relics of Bishop Fryorov of The Iron Martyrs. Includes Both Kidneys And A Spleen.

#redemptionists #necromunda #delaques #enforcers