The Hacked Knee Guild War Part 12: Triple Cross

Folks round Hacked Knee could see the effects of the guild war in the very fabric of the sector itself. Routine maintenance rites were neglected, resulting in power lines cutting out, promethium pipes rupturing, and ancient support structures collapsing. Most attributed this to the guilder feud, but some whispered that it might have more to do with the ascendance of the Hellhounds and the Harbingers of the Undivided, and the dark influence of the Wrong Gods they were rumoured to worship. It was as if the badzones themselves were stirring and coming alive, encroaching on the fragile habs and workshops of H8 with every passing shift.

Gang fights in those darkening days took place wherever and whenever paths crossed, and so the Hi-Viz Jackers, Krass Dynasty and Righteous Brotherhood of the Crimson Carrion found themselves facing off in a dangerously unstable tunnel level, at the centre of which lay a massive explosive which had sat dormant for untold centuries. Now, though, the shifting structure had disturbed its dreamless sleep and it was ticking ominously...

With Akilles and Edz recovering from the Jackers last battle, Macks Zmit was the de facto leader of the Jackers this shift. All too aware of the threat posed by the unexploded bomb – not to mention the rival gangs – Macks had the Orlocks hang back, dodging the sludge jellies that flopped hungrily from grills and hatchways all around.

It was the zealous Cawdors who made the first move, sending one of their gangers into the central crossways occupied by by the bomb. He remote-operated a blast door to trigger a violent decompression which dragged half the Krass Dynasty into the open. The mutant cult wasted no time and poured gunfire into the hapless Carrionite. He was blasted into the Jackers' line of fire, and Macks hammered him down with a frag grenade. The temptation of such an easy scrag proved too much for Jacker juve Ferg Lazerus, who darted forward and brained the Cawdor out of action. But the Underhive punishes the rash – Ferg found himself on the receiving end of Krass's chainglaive, and was likewise taken out.

The depressurisation had disturbed the ventworks feeding into the tunnels, and a powerful gale lashed the corridors for several clicks, making it hard for all to shoot straight.

The Crimson Carrion brought a bounty hunter with them – the cryptically-named MCV2. Though he was ostensibly on board to capture the notorious Krass, he sprinted into the Jacker-held quarter and unleashed a web-pistol torrent into the heart of the assembled Orlocks. Though Macks was only superficially spattered, Kaleb Dyablo and Kurtiz Kohl were thoroughly webbed, pinned and vulnerable as they strained against their chem-woven bonds. Still, dim juve Noot Necrofago was on hand to help them break free. Murgen Hezsz attempted a brace of point-blank stubberhots at the bounty hunter, but in the confusion missed.

MCV2 was disturbingly quick – in a heartbeat, he'd darted back down the corridor and webbed Krass and his nearest cronies, pinning them dangerously near the ticking bomb. Murgen had reason to forgive his poor shooting a moment earlier – here was a chance to scrag the cursed Krass himself. He ran against the howling winds to the floored mutie leader and pistol-whipped him into submission. But Murgen's moment of underhanded triumph was short-lived – Dynasty cultist Hildegard took aim with her shotgun and blasted Hezsz out of the fight.

Beyond the bomb-threatened crossways, on the far side of the fightzone to the Jackers, some of the Krass Dynasty attempted an outflanking move on the Crimson Carrion, but were cowed by plasmafire. Meanwhile, the Cawdors were attepmpting an outflanking of their own on the Jackers – but this was stymied by the quick reaction of Ralve Skinzer and Gavv Naxon – the former wounded one of the approaching Carrionites with his autogun; the latter finished the job with a brutal scragging that sent the nearby heavy bolter-carrying Cawdor fleeing in fright.

And then the bomb went off. The corridors shook; plasteel supports wailed as they warped and twisted; rockcrete dust wafted through the zone. Every fighter was floored by the seismic shock, and most of those in close proximity to the bomb were wounded by flying shrapnel.

The explosion triggered a static storm – the walls danced with tendrils of unchecked electricity, and a charge by one of the Dynasty cultists on MCV2 was interrupted by a mild shock flash as the fighters made contact. Nevertheless, the bounty hunter, already wounded by the massive detonation, was taken out of the fight.

The static storm passed, but there was worse to come: a partial dome collapse, which pinned fighters who'd only just recovered from the bomb detonation. Sections of floor and wall gave way, and from adjoining levels, thick tendrils of downhive vegetation nudged through, disgorging obscuring clouds of fluorescent spores. The upheaval tripped the power supply, and the tunnels were plunged into darkness as the lumens cut out and the blast doors slammed shut. Kaleb Dyablo, only just free of the web snare, barely avoided losing his head as a slab portal closed right by him.

In the darkness, the Jackers did what they could. Ralve and Gavv blundered about in the gloom, trying to find the one remaining Carrionite outflanker. Several stray shots later, they pinned him down and tag-teamed an assault, with Ralve landing the scragging blow. Young Noot, cut off from his gangmates, amazed himself as he appeared to be heaving a blast door open single-handed, only to discover that Macks and Kaleb had been pitching in on the other side.

The lumens flickered back on, and the Jackers prepared to go on the offensive, but Kurtiz Kohl blundered forward like a green juve and got blasted by Dagmar Krass's mining laser – a humiliating mistake that would surely haunt the Orlock. But under cover of frag blasts courtesy of Macks, Noot scrambled forward and took a close-range stubbershot at Dagmar, badly injuring the mutie.

Visibility in the dome was dropping fast, with an indeterminate brow gas wafting in from the vents that were still working. Between this and the airborne spores, it was nigh-impossible to get a clean shot. 

The battle of attrition had taken its toll on the Crimson Carrion and Krass Dynasty and, unwilling to risk the necks of any more of their key gangmembers, they fled the tunnels, leaving the Jackers in control of the wrecked zone.

Macks Zmit was able to lead the boys back to Nu-Bedlam with their heads held high. They hadn't claimed any turf worth defending, but seeing off the Dynasty and Carrionites would go some small way to boosting their reputation. And besides, they'd bagged a captive – the Cawdor known as Tetrix had been left behind in the confusion.

The Hacked Knee Guild War was all but over – but maybe there were a few more drops of blood yet to be spilled...

The Hacked Knee Guild War Part 11: Haunted Dome

Even the most foolhardy of Dome Runners shied away from the tunnels beneath Strobe Town. The settlement had been abandoned by sane hivers countless long cycles ago – no one was quite sure why any more, but rumours persisted of Wrong God worship and cannibalistic rites that had left a wych-print soaked into rockcrete in that lights-out place. They said it was about as bad as Sector H8 badzones get. They also said there was a cache of loot there, waiting to be claimed by any gangs brave – or desperate – enough to risk their necks and disregard the crude, rusted warning signs that marked the borders of the zone.

Desperate was surely an appellation that fitted the Hi-Viz Jackers and Church of the Amethyst Emperor in the latter cycles of the Hacked Knee Guild War. The former gang's reputation was sump-low, having lost their longstanding leader and all the turf entrusted to them by the Ba'Kings; the latter had carved out a mean rep for vicious skulduggery but had suffered a spate of fatalities at the war's outset that it had been hard to recover from.

While the devout churchmembers approached the loot cache indirectly via a tunnel network they controlled, the Hi-Viz Jackers mustered their courage and marched in as a group. They came under fire from a tribe of degenerate muties that frequented the locale – perhaps the inbred descendants of the ancient cult – but feeble arrows and feebler aim were no bother to the Orlocks, and the mutie tribe melted away into the surrounding wastes.

Skew Yarvil and Edzra Macbacta peeled off from the bulk of the Jacker crew to grab a loot crate that looked easy to get a hold of. But nothing's ever easy in the Underhive – a nearby stand of wrackspines detected Skew's presence and took him out of action with a salvo of sleek quills. Edzra found himself alone in dark and disorienting tunnels which echoed with bodiless whispers.

Without warning, the whispers were drowned out by a powerful rumbling – as if responding to the intrusion, the dome itself was shifting, and the walls and decking shook with sinister might. It was impossible to maintain footing, and every fighter in the zone hit the deck. What's more, the quake triggered a power cut – the lumens blinked out and all the blast door sealed shut.

The Amethyst faithful took this opportunity to sneak into the ink-black zone, hissing directions to each other to stay oriented, and picking their way carefully between the clusters of wrackspines as they moved towards the loot.

Edzra was alone in the dark, cut off from his gangmates. He peered into the murk and tried to control his breathing to give his hearing a chance. There were guttural voices in the darkness. Not ghosts or cultists. Ogryns. The Church had hired some strongarm mercs to make up for their shortfall in numbers. Edz wasn't so alone, after all.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Jackers had heaved the blast door in front of them open. New Jacker Gavv Naxon darted forward and grabbed a crate without waking the nearby wrackspines, but the gang was too slow to stop the Amethyst Church bagging the other crates in the vicinity. Besides, Edz had voxed through about his predicament – Akilles Lebow ordered his crew to retrace their steps and come to their gangmate's aid.

The lumens had flickered back on by now, and Edz had a clear view of the two ogryns lumbering towards him. He levelled his mining laser and fired at the nearest brute. The shot clipped the ogryn, who plodded on regardless. Edz tried to console himself that he'd at least grabbed the loot crate that had drawn him and Skew to this chamber in the first place. Not much consolation. The lead ogryn piled into him and slammed him out of the fight.

At this point, the whispering resumed, coming from the outlying corridors – it seemed like the cursed dome once again, but in fact it was a colossal swarm of infant sumpspiders working its way through the zone. The fighters, Church and Jacker, grimaced as the bugs washed around their boots, but no harm was done and the swarm passed through.

The Jackers had regrouped. Djo Moge opened the door to the chamber where Edz had been trapped and drenched the ogryns in a sheet of flame, flooring them and setting the lead abhuman alight. Ralve Skinzer darted in and out of the room, liberating the loot crate at last. Akilles poured some lead into the ogryn that wasn't on fire, but it had little effect. The Jackers braced for the inevitable ogryn charge.

Of course, what they hadn't reckoned on was the Amethyst Church's other hired gun. Major Dowts was a bounty hunter well known around Hacked Knee for his cunning and recklessness, and the Jackers were about to witness both qualities first hand.

The Major had been lurking out of sight during the ogryns' advance, but now he sidestepped into the open, announcing his presence with a near-miss plasma shot at Macks Zmit. The Jackers' nerve broke and Gavv fled the zone – they figured they were now under attack from a much larger force.

They might as well have been, given what happened next.

With a half-mad roar, Major Dowtz pressed the accelerator on the stimm-slug he had plugged into his neck. The chems surged through his system, and, chainsword screaming, he launched himself over the burning ogryn and into the Jackers. In a fell swoop, he carved up Djo and then Akilles, whose carapace armour did little to stop the frenzied attack. Spattered with Orlock blood, the Major lurched forward, ready to take on Macks, but then the stimms overwhelmed him and he collapsed, clutching at his heart.

Only Macks and Ralve were left standing for the Jackers. Seeing the ogryns hauling themselves angrily back to their feet, the Orlocks figured it was time to cut their losses and hauled boots right out of that accursed dome.

The Church of the Amethyst Emperor had full rein to collect the remaining loot at their leisure; still, they went about their business quickly – the uncanny atmosphere of the dome sat uncomfortably with their low-level mutie telepathy.

There was one more surprise. As the last Church mutie was about to leave the zone, he heard a faint groaning. At first, he thought it was the unquiet spirits in the place, but it turned out to be Skew Yarvil coming round, forgotten by his gangmates in their rush to escape. The Church of the Amethyst Emperor took a mighty haul back to their lair that shift – not just credits, but a captive to boot. 

As for the tunnels beneath Strobe Town, they lie deserted once again, shunned by those who are living and sound of mind. Take a walk in the surrounding tunnels when the vents are running full strength, though, and you might just catch the whispers and cackles of the insane dead on the stale downhive wind.

The Hacked Knee Guild War Part 10: The Music of the Spores

Recent losses were hanging heavy over the Hi-Viz Jackers, and Akilles Lebow, in his new capacity as boss, needed something to jolt his fellows out of their static funk. Here was the perfect opportunity: an informant had passed on the location of a H.E.A.T. parlay occurring out on the H8 badzones – Abraham Krass was due to meet with none other than Soho Jones, the man who killed Vintsen Courraine.

Akilles ordered the whole gang to haul boots, fully armed; revenge was the only thing on the Hi-Viz Jackers' scopes as they trudged out of Nu-Bedlam. The hit zone was in a wasteland tunnel-knot overgrown with mutant vegetation. Here, the air was thick with drifting, vivid spores that reduced visibility, and barbarous wrack-spines protruded from the mangled decking, extending almost to the tunnel ceilings.

The Jackers split up and came at the H.E.A.T meet from two directions: Akilles, Ralve, Macks and Kaleb went one way, with Djo, Skew and new juve Noot in support in a side tunnel, while Edz led Murgen and Kurtiz on a flanking angle. Ahead, there was a crossways where shadows could be seen through the spore-fog – Soho's helmeted head was unmistakeable, as was the hunched, three-armed silhouette of Krass.

'Let 'em have it, jacks!' roared Akilles, striding down the corridor towards the crossways and opening fire with his heavy stubber. Kaleb did likewise with his autogun, Macks fired a frag grenade that sent the H.E.A.T. bosses diving for cover, and the rest of the Krass Dynasty and Wasted Youth scrambled to protect their leaders.

Turned out, though, that the three gangs weren't the only threat in this stretch of underhive: the commotion disturbed the slow drift of the spores. As they reeled and impacted on each other, some of them exploded with a soggy pop, and soon the already-thick air was thicker still as asphyxiating gas clouds wafted through the zone. To make matters worse, the wrack-spines reacted to the intrusion with mindless malevolence, firing off handfuls of needle-shards at whatever moved in their domain. Before long, Orlocks and muties were cut and bloody, easy prey if their opponents hadn't been suffering the same vegetation-born violence.

Backed up by his boys, Akilles got into a close-range exchange of fire with Soho. Meanwhile, Krass set his chainglaive buzzing and attempted to outflank the Jackers, but he hadn't reckoned on Djo Moge, who'd snorted a faceful of some stimm or other and was quicker than usual on his feet. The Jacker ganger sprinted forward and drenched Krass and a few of his cronies with a blast from his hand flamer. The mutie cultists were knocked down, some of them set ablaze – Krass and his familiar Earache included. Ripe targets for the nearby wrack-plants.

Over the crossways, things weren't going so well for Edz and his crew. Wasted boys Frisco and Jack darted forward in counter-attack, closely followed by Stray Tom. Jack threw down a flash grenade that pierced even the spore-fug and left the Hi-Viz fighters sitting sumpkroks for a thrown blasting charge. Edz was down, and bleeding badly.

Spores continued to pop, releasing still more gas that nagged at the fighters' lungs, weakening them further. Combined with the attrition of the wrack-spine attacks, things were getting desperate, fast.

Mutie heavy Dagmar scuttled forward, intending to take a mining laser shot at Akilles, who'd stopped dead and was desperately trying to reload his heavy stubber, but in the soupy air she mistook juve Noot for his boss and blasted him straight out of the fight instead. This sent Djo running back he way he'd come, right past Skew, who'd just been floored by a solid shotgun slug. Nearby, Krass hauled himself to his clawed feet and ran across the corridor, frantically trying to put out the flames that were eating along his curved spine.

Stray Tom charged in to take advantage of the photon flash, but Murgen's goggles had protected him from the worst of the blinding light and he fought back, keeping the Wasted at bay until his gangmates' vision cleared. Meanwhile, Frisco lobbed another blasting charge towards the main Jacker assault – it took Kaleb out and left Akilles floored and vulnerable.

Djo had got his act together, and Skew was wincing through the blood – together, they made another run at the muties and put a couple more down. Over the crossways, Murgen had somehow fought Stray Tom to a standstill, but Edz had got his act together enough to take a shot with his mining laser. The shot floored Tom, and Murgen took him out.

By now, the spores had cleared enough to stop exploding, though visibility was still poor and the wrack-spines continued to fire clusters of needles at nearby fighters. Krass was still trying to extinguish his flames, but it looked like Soho had an easy drop on Akilles.

That's when the hatches and grilles across the scrap zone started rattling, and swarms of blood-hungry scav-beetles poured forth, disturbed by the gunfire and explosions,. Fighters who were standing had to swat and shake the bugs off their clothing. Fighters who were pinned or down and bleeding found themselves in desperate struggles to stop the insects digging into their flesh or open wounds. Some of the already-weak were taken out of action.

Soho reckoned he wouldn't get a better chance than this. Breaking cover, he strode over to prone Akilles. The two men had been right there at the start of the Jacker-Wasted alliance, cycles ago at the Clam Breath Wastes – it had been Akilles's resilience that had impressed Soho's old boss and prompted the ceasefire. But those times were gone.

Soho reached up to his sleeve and tore off the stitched badge that signalled the erstwhile H8 Orlock Takeover. Holding the badge in his palm, he spat on it and flung it down onto Akilles, who was feebly trying to scrape beetles out of the rims of his carapace armour.

'You fragheads are dead to us, Lebow,' said Soho, drawing his pistol. 'And real soon, you'll just be plain old dead.'

Akilles grimaced. 'Go suck a slimepipe, Soho.'

Soho aimed his pistol at Akilles and squeezed the trigger, but just as he did so, a fresh wave of beetles swarmed out of a nearby vent, and Jones stumbled, trying to keep his footing. The bullet went awry, scraping the Jacker boss's helmet and knocking him unconscious.

Then there was a screech from nearby, and Soho whirled round to clock the source – it was blazing Krass, staggering across the crossways, demanding that his cronies come to his aid. Another frag shot from Macks burst nearby, roiling the spore-heavy atmosphere and raising chitters from the beetles.

For a few clicks, Soho didn't know which way to turn – by the time he'd got his bearings back, Akilles was gone, hauled away by the rest of the Jackers, who knew when to cut their losses and flee. Abraham Krass, wreathed in thinning smoke but no longer on fire, sidled over to Soho.

'What's thisss?' said the mutie boss. 'Sssomehow they essscaped?'

'Looks like it,' said Soho. 'Don't matter much, though. This is only going to bolster the rep and turf of the Battersump H.E.A.T..'

Still, grudges were renewed and forged that blood-soaked shift. When their paths crossed again, Krass was determined he'd make Djo Moge pay for setting him alight; Akilles and Soho both swore iron-bound oaths that the next time they met, there'd surely be work for the corpse grinders.

Whether or not the tumult of the guild war would allow them their chances was another question. Either way, each gang boss hoped that next time the plants wouldn't be so keen to get a piece of the action.

The Hacked Knee Guild War Part 9: Jacks in Flight

Akilles Lebow scrambled through the gloomy tunnel, dodging chem drips and low-hanging crosspipes as best he could. Clad as he was in carapace armour, it wasn't easy hauling his own heavy stubber and Edz's mining laser, even with the suspensors, but what choice did he have? Ezra Macbacta was busy propping up flame-scorched Djo Moge and hustling along a few paces behind.

Ralve Skinzer's voice echoed from up ahead. 'Here, jacks. We can stop here.'

The chamber was ten paces by ten, only slightly better lit than the rat run they'd emerged from. A weak lumen strip flickered overhead.

Ralve was scoping an exit on the other side of the chamber, peering into the darkness down the barrel of his autogun. Kurtiz Kohl, who'd been scouting ahead with Ralve, was slumped against one blackened wall, breathing heavily. Akilles came to a halt and dumped the mining laser on the deck without much ceremony. As they entered, Edz released Djo, who stumbled forwards and collapsed next to Kurtiz.

'By the spire and its lights, Akilles,' said Edz, trying to catch his breath, 'what the frag was that?'

Akilles didn't respond straight off. He was mirroring Ralve at the mouth of the corridor they'd come from, heavy stubber gripped, ready to blaze if there were any signs of pursuit. Satisfied they were safe – for now – he turned back.

'Beats me,' he said. 'But that dome wasn't no place a right-headed Orlock would want to stick around.'

The assembled Jackers muttered agreement. They'd gone gunning to the aid of their Ba'Kings allies the Violent Beauregards, who were involved in an escalating border dispute with the Harbingers of the Undivided. Thing was, the Jackers had got turned around and strung out in the badzones, arriving at the fight piecemeal. What's more, the disused manufactorum dome where the scrap was on was a disorienting trap-maze of warping girders and crumbling rockcrete – the kind of place even a dome runner would think twice about setting foot in.

The Harbingers were fast – before the Jackers and Beauregards could even get their guns in order, thuggish Conan was halfway to the Ba'King turf marker. The Harbingers' weird chants sounded around the domespace, the echoes teasing trickles of dust from the unstable structures. Edzra had been convinced he'd got a clear shot at the Harbinger witch, but his heavy lasbolt fizzled out short.

The dome was bad news – no place for a gang fight. Not long after, one of the Eschers had been taken out of action, and Djo got lit up by a tech-boosted flame shot. This was enough to see both gangs bottling and fleeing.

Now here they were, catching their breaths and trying to piece it all together. Since Vints had died, the Jackers were yet to regain their grit.

'Well, sump take 'em all,' said Akilles. 'Least we all made it out of there.'

'Say...' said Kurtiz. 'What happened to Skew, Kaleb and Murgen, anyhow?'

++++

One level down and a hundred metres over, Kaleb Dyablo and Skew Yarvil raced through another tangle of narrow tunnels, also in full flight from the scrap. 

Having split from the main crew, they'd arrived at the crumbling manufactorum right after Akilles and the boys had fled. Staring out into the gloom, they clocked what seemed like a whole platoon of Harbingers scuttling through the shadows, and, as far as they could tell, only one Violent Beauregard – Private Itchi – was there to gun alongside them.

Skew and Kaleb glanced at each other, shared a look, turned and fled the dome. Now, they were on the run, pausing at an old elevator platform. They listened carefully for several clicks. No sound of pursuit.

'Skew, what the frag was that?'

'I dunno, man, but that place was all wrong. You couldn't'a kept me there for all the ore in the Spoil.'

'Damn right,' said Kaleb. 'We'd've stood no chance. We did the right thing. Didn't we?'

'Yeah...' said Skew, as unconvinced as Kaleb.

The two men paused for a few clicks more. Then Skew's brow furrowed.

'Say.... where's Murgen, anyhow?'

++++

On hitting the dome, Murgen Hezsz hadn't clocked that Akilles's' crew had already fled, nor that Kaleb and Skew promptly joined them, nor that there were hardly any Violent Beauregards to be seen. 

What he had clocked was a Harbinger lurking in the shadow of an old piece of junk-tech nearby.

Murgen promptly drew his stub pistols and went straight for the fragger, taking rough aim. He fired and one shot hit home, flooring the Harbinger and drawing blood, but not taking him out of the fight.

Over yonder, Murgen could hear the obscene oaths of the Harbingers as they defiled the Ba'King turf marker, as well as call and response from the fringes of the dome as more Beauregards turned up.

His target had stumbled to his feet and staggered off behind some more corroded mechworks. Murgen pursued and took another couple of shots which again floored the fragger but didn't take him out.

His target crawled behind a pile of dust-drenched scrap. Murgen paused and stared around into the murk. This place was pure badzone – it was hard to keep track of where you were, especially when there wasn't any other Hi-Viz in sight. Murgen was about to keep moving but was suddenly hit by the implications of his last thought.

There wasn't any other Hi-Viz in sight....

'What the frag is this?' he muttered to himself.

No Jackers around to watch his back. Gunshots and screams in the darkness. The notoriously bloodthirsty Harbingers on a high after wrecking the turf marker. And only the Violent Beauregards, who'd been conspicuously absent through the guild war so far, on his side.

There was a crash and triumphant cry from the far side of the dome. One of the Eschers must've counter-wrecked the Harbingers' turf marker.

But Murgen Hezsz wasn't stupid. He knew when a scrap was done.

As he turned and sprinted full speed for the dome exit, he thought about his fellow Jackers and muttered angrily.

'Where did those yellowbelly sumpsuckers go, anyhow?'