So I decided that, in order to give myself discipline and writing experience on a deadline I'd enter. It's a 40k story which (in lala land) I'd like to get published by the Balck Library. I thought I'd post up my 1st 'chapter' as it were. Mocking derision, laughter and hatemail here please.

“The Emperor protects,
The Emperor is love,
The Emperor’s wrath
Comes from above”
-Old Hive Selaxis rhyme
(Source Unknown)




Hive Selaxis squatted atop the world of Corsuss like a malignant boil, ripe with foulness. The fumes of industry hazed around it’s sides , staining the hive a greasy black. A dull rumble emanated at all hours from it’s bowels, sounding all the world like an animal in pain.
It was a true blight on an already blighted world.
Within the Hive two point seven billion souls toiled, prayed, divined, stole, murdered and died for the God Emperor so far away on His Throne. From it’s gilded top, The Spire, to the filth of the underhive it was filled with individuals scratching, clawing, scrambling for their place on the Hive ladder. Each believing they would do whatever it took to grasp their desires-only a few ready to cross the ultimate line into damnation or madness. One such individual waits now, midhive, awaiting a meeting that will either make his career or end his life. He knows not which. He cares little-when his master speaks he acts. And those with true faith never question.
The creaking and groaning of the rusted pipes around him told Tuoma it was going to rain. A sound akin to beast roaring in it’s sleep rumbled through the area, carrying small tremors which shook a fine mist of red onto his black hair.
“ A bloody curse on whichever idiot thought this was a good idea” Tuoma thought.
It had of course been the founder of Hive Selaxis Lord Selaxis himself who, missing the weather patterns of his home, had a system constructed to mirror weather within the hive. Selaxis was the only hive to boast a distinct seasonal system. Sadly the both the plans and control system were long lost in the Hive’s bowels and no Mechanicus expedition had been able to locate it. Thus the system slowly broke down randomising the weather and occasionally unleashing liquid misery in the form of snows, toxic rains or blistering heat.
“Which is a lot more like real weather” Tuoma thought ,as he pulled under an awning to await the on coming deluge. You learned a lot being an Underhiver-which sounds meant which weather, what a Sump Dragon sounded like, whose territory you don’t wander into....all valuable skills. And of course you learnt where to get the best ‘relaxants’
Tuoma smiled to himself. ‘Relaxants’. What the boss called any Narco he could get his fat hands on. Still, he paid well and this little errand he’d sent Tuoma on should prove rather profitable-he may he even get to ‘relax’ himself.
With a groan born of intense pressure the pipes along the hab dome opened and a waterfall seemed to fall from thin air. Tuoma pulled his battered jacket up around his neck stepped beneath thereinforced awning of a Recaff house and watched. He watched the Spire residents slumming it dash for carriages and Servo Skulls with umbrellas. He watched the enforcers-The Hives police force-dive back into their cutters and slam the doors down. He watched the children pulled indoors by worried mothers. The street soon deserted now occupied by a few filthy dogs and himself. But most of all he watched the window across the road. They knew he was coming. Knew he was there. But he had to wait for the signal. Were they background checking him? Getting some wrecked noble out back? Or cleaning up the results of an attempt to get someone to ‘change his mind’? Emperor only knew. All he knew was that rules were rules. Not following them meant either insult or death. And insults usually lead to death. So in all it was best to be polite-a dagger in the kidney often offends.
The rain continued to blatter downwards, ever harder and ever colder.
“Hurry up for feth’s sake” thought Tuoma “ It’s colder than a Valhallan’s arse out here”
A sudden movement in the window caught his eye. A brief flash of a black hankerchief. The agreed signal. But now the rain was even heavier. Did they do this on purpose? Just to anoy him? Or maybe it was simply to humiliate the underhiver? Either way they were a bunch of Groxfondlers
Checking to his left and then to his right Tuoma hitched up his collar as far as it would go and dashed across the road to the domicile. He could feels the slight sting of the toxic water as it trickled down his neck. It smelt like an open latrine.
A few steps and he raced up the steps to the door and knocked three times. He paused, knocked once again before pressing the bell twice.
“And then I wriggle my arse, blow a raspberry and sing the third line of ’ His most glorious Wrath’” thought Tuoma, annoyed at this secrecy. Down below a deal was simple-meet, exchange goods, walk away. Only the terminally stupid would break a deal. It stirred up ill will, murders and small wars. But up here.... The paranoia was thick as Sump water and twice as noxious. One wrong move, forgotten password or missed timed appointment could mean the end of the deal. Or a hail of Las bolts.
The door opened to reveal a small man wearing a servants uniform and an expression of severe distaste.
“His will and vision are absolute”, said the domestic.
“But we can expand our vision”, replied Tuoma tiredly. Code phrases, secret signs....was this for Chems or to join the Inquisition, he wondered.
“Please enter Mr....?”
“Fehimal. Tuoma Fehimal . I have an appointment with...”
“Yes, Mr Relayne. I’ll let him know you are here. Follow me-and please don’t bother our guests” The servant asked.
“Long as they don’t bother me” said Tuoma stepping across the threshold.
The first thing that hit Tuoma was the smell. A sickly sweet smell, tinged with an acridity unusual for such sweetness.
“ Smells like a joy girls knicker drawer” he mused as he and his runty companion walked down a long corridor. As soon as they entered the central chamber he saw why. A wide room circular room greeted him as he emerged form the hall. It ceilings towered over him, lit with tiny luminators that pulsed slowly. The walls were hung with soft silken drapes that seemed to move as if stirred by tiny eddies of the air. The overall atmosphere was of languid decadence, coupled with an air of sensuality. His impression was not helped by the doors around the circumference of the room. A few name plates , starining for attention in their discreetness told him all he needed to know. Kaandra-naughty Sister of Battle, Ophelia-The Spire debutante, Mistress Jaxaba-Inquisitorial interrogator....
“Clearly a place of my level of moral fibre”, thought Tuoma , mentally making note to enquire about Kaandra’s ‘schedule’.
The short servant turned to him and bowed (with an obvious hesitation) and said “Please remain here whilst I inform Mr Relayne of your presence. Help yourself to an amasec if you desire, but again I must ask you do not disturb our guests.”
“No problems chief, I don’t think Lady Flagell the Redemptionist really likes more than one persons company at a time.”
With another awkward bow the servant shuffled off to a door at the far end and exited. Tuoma was left alone with only the occasional giggle or whip crack disturbing the silence. He walked over to a low table bourgeoning with drink and browsed a few bottles. None of the names was familiar and even by smelling them he could tell they cost more than a guilders weekly wage. He poured himself a generous glass of
‘Avegiou water’ and settled into a chair to await his summons. As he sipped the vintage (M40.877 apparently) he took in the room more. As he did so a slight feeling of disquiet began to creep over Tuoma. The drapes for instance-how were they moving? And the paintings-they looked like many other pieces of art (or at least what he thought of as art) but had a quality he couldn’t put his finger on. They seemed to shimmer unnaturally at the corner of the eye-drawing attention to themselves more and more. He shifted uncomfortably and sipped at the amasec. It’s warmth on his tongue was comforting. It was possibly the only normal thing here.
“Mr Fehimal?”
The short servant had returned without a sound and spooked Tuoma.
“Y-yes?”
“ Mr Relayne will see you now. Follow me please.”
“Tuoma followed him down a small corridor, much less glamorously decorated than the ante room to a small plain door. The man servant swung it open and ushered him inside. As Tuoma entered he was instantly aware of eyes on him. Two large slabs of muscle stood either side of an expensive desk, fingers tight around las pistols. They eyed him murderously, just awaiting an excuse to blast him. But it was the man in the middle who drew Tuoma’s attention. Dressed in a simple white bodyglove, he sat speaking calmly over a vox. His pitch black eyes flicked to Tuoma and he smiled a brief smile of acknowledgement. He motioned to Tuoma to take a seat opposite him which Tuoma moved to with exaggerated to movements-anything to avoid the gurads blasting him for ‘acting suspicious’ As Tuoma took his seat he listened to the man behind the desk side of the conversation-and was glad he didn’t mix in upper Hive crime.
“Well that is unfortunate Syphon.” Said the seated man. “Most unfortunate. And they have no idea where? Well I suppose we’ll have to ask them nicely. Yes-his daughter. The eyes. And then...well yes of course your men can...very well. I’m sure we’ll speak soon. Goodbye”
The man placed the vox down and looked directly at Tuoma. He smiled and Tuoma caught a glimpse of platinum teeth, each inlaid with a tiny gem. It was cold, impersonal....much like the man himsef.
“I’m sorry to keep you Mr Fehimal. Associates are often so unreliable. Now-I understand you are here on behalf of your employer Mr Taskin.”
Tuomas shifted uncomfortably. The muscle kept staring straight at him, daring him to move. He wouldn’t be taking them up on it.
“Yes, Mr Relayne. Mr Taskin send his regards. He has a wish to conduct business with you and your associates”
“Ah yes-I believe he controls large sections of the Underhive narc trade. Spook, Obscura...all the solid products. But why would he need us?”
Tuomas nodded-this was going better than expected. Mr Relayne had a clear level of respect for Taskin.
“Well that is true. But he hears that you have a new narc that he would like to...”
“Relayne held up a hand and smiled stopping him mid sentence.
“I believe I know what he speaks of-but I am sorry to say it is not for sale.”
“I’m not sure I understand. If it’s not for sale then how do you profit from it?”
Mr Relayne stood and walked towards Tuoma his arms spread wide. He placed a pale hand on Tuoma’s shoulder and squeezed. His grip felt like a dead mans hand.
“ Come with me Mr Tuoma and I can explain. Walk with me will you?”

The room was dimly lit but it served to provide a relaxing effective rather than eye strain. It’s rich red walls gave a warmth to the air not present. A servitor glided about on small rotors , zipping between different compartments laden with drinks. And in those compartments....
The inhabitants were all finely dressed and immaculately presented. Most were obvious nobles but some were high ranking Administratum officers, others merchants, and here....wasn’t that Cardinal Hoya of the Ecclisarchy? They all reclined glassy eyed mouthing strange unintelligible phrases. Each one attended to buy a beautiful woman who mopped their brow and passed amasec and wine to them when asked for.
Tuomas gazed at them all uncomprehending
“What’re they doing? Tripping?”
Mr Relayne smiled. “Nothing so mundane my friend. they are ascending.”
“Ascending?”, Tuoma queried.
“That’s probably the best way of putting it. It is far too complex to explain now. Suffice to say the cost of this....product is prohibitive to mass production. Therefore I only offer it to those with the funds and the...class to appreciate it.”
Tuoma gazed at Relayne’s clients, each ling in thier private stupor.
“Ascending my arse” he thought. It was clear as day it was just another stupefactor that sent you soaring through the sky then crashed you down to the Hive floor. Ascending-fancy Grox-dung.
He turned from the decadent scene and gave an exasperated expression.
“Look, Mr Relayne-my employer has sent me here to sort a deal. But to be honest he isn’t...”
“..Completely interested in distribution, yes I have heard rumours of his Chem appetites. But as I said this is a Narc for only the most...refined of palettes. I’m afraid a mere pusher, no matter how large is not one of my target clientele”, Relayne purred. Tuoma was shocked-here was this jumped up little Scavvy flaunting about in a whore house telling him that his boss was small time scum. And he had the damned nerve to smile whilst saying it! he aught to put a las bolt right between his eyes and do nasty things to his body. But he held back. The boss’s happiness was paramount. If he was unhappy Tuoma was unhappy-mainly because his kneecaps would be fashioned into jewellery for the next low rent joy girl the boss took a fancy too. He reigned in his anger and decided to try a roll of the dice.
“Well what sort of sum would you consider...”
“Absolutely none Mr Fehimal. As I said-this is a refined drug for refined users. I would happily discuss trading other Narcs or indeed Joy girls with you and your employer. But on this I must remain firm.”
“What about something more valuable than creds?”, asked Tuoma producing the battered data slate from beneath him robe. It was old and oily and had many dead pixels, but it had survived ever since he stole it from the Scholarm twelve years ago-that spoke volumes to it’s durability. He handed it to Relayne wit a smile.
“That little number contains some VERY useful information....freighter shipment times, guards who’ll look the other way...”
“Yes, yes, very interesting I’m sure Mr Fehimal, but this building is my operation-I have no need for such things. Now would you kindly desist from these attempts or I’m afraid I shall have to have Mr Stitch and Mr Slice show you out!”
Tuoma had him-he may not care about things leaving. But things getting in....
“What if I told you that also contains a list of every enforcer and many Arbite informants? What if I also said there was a Sump worm in your very building?” Tuoma said.
Silence. He watched Relaynes face try and hide his surprise, greed and fear. He knew exactly how much that information was worth-not just to him, but to every gang in the city. The value of that information in favours alone was huge. But of course the more pressing worry was ‘who in my organisation is selling me out and for how much?’
“How...how did you come upon such information, Mr Fehimal?” queried Relayne. His inky eyes were darting around focusing on employees one by one, thinking, remembering, questioning.
Tuoma smiled “Not easily my dear sir. Suffice to say that much of my masters bulk may appear to be made up of his backside, but it is really his ears that are his largest organ”, he stated. “ Shall we go to your office and you can inspect everything?”
Mr Stitch and Slice lead the way back, leaving the cultural elite to witness stars exploding, angels singing and the siren call music of the stars.

Relayne placed the data slate gently into the access slot on his cogitator and awaited it to transfer the data.
The wheels span and few groans emerged from the old machine as it’s machine spirit spoke to it’s counterpart in the dataslate. Relayne settled down behind his desk and steepled his long ,thin fingers.
Thoughts raced through his mind.
‘Is this real?’
‘What can I get for this?’
‘Who is the Warp damned rat?’
This last question itched at the back of his head. All his men were united by the project-how could one be compromised? Who was this traitor working for? If it was the enforcers then it would be a simple matter of a little money here and there. If it were the Arbites then it could prove more problematic. And then there was the third, even more unpleasant possibility-that it was neither of the two enforcement agencies here in Selaxis but the Inquisition. That would be disastrous-so much at stake, at such a crucial juncture...
A blinking light told him the two devices had synched and were speaking together. Names and details flashed up on the screen with notes next to each name. It seemed legit but....
“So Mr Fehimal...assuming this data is accurate what do you want in return? I have already said I cannot mass produce this” Relayne asked. Tuoma nodded and leaned in closer. A heavy sweat hung on him, like all Underhivers but at least this one had taken the time to wash up. His hair looked semi neat and his clothes were simplistic yet well made. Relayne could detect small ridges of bodyplates beneath the material-as sure a sign of someone who spent a lot of time getting shot at as any. His face had no scars and those keen green eyes spoke of an intelligence out of line with his station in life. All in all someone who shouldn’t be underestimated.
“ Well my boss is of course my prime concern. And even just a sample of your fine product would satisfy his curiosities. And after that well...maybe just a small, tiny amount every solar cycle...just to keep him happy. Other than that-I’m sure as long as we keep our business separate no problems will occur” Tuoma stated. It was all he really needed-keep the boss happy, keep his liver.
Relayne gazed across the table and nodded. The info coming up was good-he had developed a nose for this kind of thing years ago and everything scrolling past was....there! That slimy little bastard...Of all the people! Relayne screamed obscenities in his mind. He’d bought Jaaxa in, helped him understand the complexities of the product...and now he was selling him out to the Arbites for...a hundred creds a week!
“Of course I’m sure we can come to an arrangement regarding a few discreet samples to your employer. Just one moment please. Mr Stitch? Could you go and have a ...word with Dr Jaxxa? His loyalty seems a little...suspect”
Stitch nodded his large head briefly and wandered off to go and end the life of a once promising medicae student. Just left alone with Relayne and Slice, Tuoma decided that Relayne was definitely not a man to cross. Still he seemed to have standards, which is what you had to have in this business.
Relayne reached into his desk and pulled out two phials of a clear blue liquid. It seemed to crackle with potential and an alien energy. It was addictive merely looking at it. He wondered how bad the cravings got when going cold Vinbeast...
“Well Mr Fehimal, I can say that I am most impressed. This information will prove most useful and profitable. Here is a sample for your employer” he said, proffering one phial. Tuoma quickly placed it in a secured case within his jacket, praying it would not break. Still Relayne held a single phial. He was toying with it gazing straight at Tuoma, a queer look across his features. A slow smile crept across his features.
“And this....is for you Mr Fehimal” he said proffering the second phial. Tuoma was stunned. The man had just told him how rare and wonderful it was, how it was not for the lower classes, and now, after all he had gone through he was being given a free ride? It made zero sense.
“Why...why do I get this?” he queried, accepting the phial. Relayne’s expansive gesture answered nothing.
“Let’s just say I can appreciate a man willing to blow his ace at the right time” Relayne smirked.
“And now, with this I believe our business is at an end. Please allow me to escort you out.”
As they stepped into the corridor connecting Relaynes office to the large circular chamber with all the Joygirls something felt wrong to Tuoma. The air was thicker and seemed to be....buzzing? It was giving him a headache. They were now back in the central chamber and the musky smell and shimmering paintings were not aiding him. He tried to shake off the feeling that this wasn’t right but it weighed heavily upon him. He looked at both Relayne and Slice who were regarding him curiously.
“Something wrong, Mr Fehimal” Relayne asked raising an eyebrow.
“Can’t you feel that?”
“What? The warmth of the air, the scent of Gheriri berries...?”
“No the change in pressure in the air...almost like an aircutter landing right on top....”
He never finished his sentence as at that precise moment the front door exploded in a blast of Las fire.