Immanio hated these patrols in the lower parts of the hive. These dark, wet passageways crisscrossing through the enormous structure were not welcoming by any stretch, and filled with perfect ambush spots. Still, being here, accompanying the patrols in the most remote part of their patrol zone earned him the respect of the men. "A commissar tends to act in one of two ways", an old Guard officer had told him a few months earlier, when they had met coincidentally as Immanio was on his way to this, his first assignment as a commissar. "Some sit in the bunkers at HQ and do nothing but preach and punish. Others lead the charge themselves, being where the fighting is. The first tends to be much more prone to "accidents", "friendly fire" or outright "disappearances". And the second tends to keep the faith in the Imperium stronger than any punishment can." Now he was here, in the bowels of a giant hive on one of the most important hive worlds of the Imperium, keeping the peace between gangs, the houses and cartels of the upper hive, the Imperial government, and alliances between any of these.
As they reached a large, open area it was obvious there had been fighting. Nothing big, about 5 corpses lying around, most probably two gangs settling an old grudge. From the look a few days old. They had been stripped of everything, including gang colours, and he wasn't about to check for tattoos or other identifying marks on 2-day old corpses. Patrol duty had quickly taught him that small skirmishes like these were no use investigating.
He turned to the four guardsmen accompanying him. Despite the relatively high temperature, they wore the heavy winter coats common among the Nivlheimian troops, although they had left their fur hats behind. Three of them were armed with standard issue lasguns, while the last one, Wilhelm, was carrying a flamer. He was glad he had instructed the supply sergeant to provide one for the patrol. It had shown its usefulness in flushing out cornered underhive scum several times. "We report this when we return. Move on." The four men, expecting nothing else, continued their wary progress, crossing the plaza to a tunnel on the other side.
About half an hour had passed since they passed the bodies, and they were nearing the outer limit of their patrol zone. Suddenly Jakob, the older of the guardsmen, stopped, motioning for the others to do likewise. Immanio looked quizzically at him, and Jakob showed him the scanner he was carrying. That was another thing Immanio was glad he had ensured the supply sergeants willingness to get. Right now, it showed something moving fast, somewhere ahead and to the right. Motioning to Karl and Stefan, the two remaining guardsmen, to guard their rear, he made his way slowly and quietly forward. The first rule of Underhive patrols was "If you don't know what it is, it's probably not friendly."
Suddenly, the flashing dot on the scanner changed direction, and a few moments later, a young man came running into the tunnel ahead of them. Immanio thought he made out some kind of green gang colours, but not the shade. In any way, green would mean either Gurthok, Wathim, Lokar or Draglor. The young man was obviously in a hurry, and from the looks he was running away from something.
_________________ Insanity is your friend. It keeps that pesky Real World at a distance.
Godless Socialist Pedant
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