Regulator Ramiel Kanius reminded Harr of Silas Hager greatly, if only because Kanius’s helmet was always on during his interrogations. Kanius was well decorated, but like Hager, a practical man who did not seem to care or flaunt such decorations around beyond wearing them as a formality. Like Hager, Kanius’s height was imposing; his build was that of a Leman Russ Battle Tank—stocky, firm; and every action taken, from the slightest movements to the most demanding table-pounding fist-drops, was carried with precise, mechanical intent. “Public Desecration of Building, Precinct Interrogation—Two Days—followed by Judgment, Discretionary,” Kanius recited to Harr, the former of which stood beyond Harr’s view in a jet-black room. Harr himself was shackled to a table, sitting on a rickety stool.

“Intent to Commit Unsanctioned Assassination, Precinct Interrogation—Two Days—followed by Judgement, Execution,” Kanius informed Hager. Two pairs of blue eyes were locked together, Hager’s being the only moving part of his body as they tracked Kanius around the room. Likewise, Kanius’s eyes were the only visible part of his body. Kanius knew in a moment that Hager was not merely the muscle of the gang he had captured, but also an intelligent, senior member of their operation. Hager, meanwhile, was calculating how many bones in his hands he would break if needing to unshackle himself from the desk, and what would be the most efficient way of overpowering Kanius were he to have done so.

“Assault of a Noble Family’s Assets, Precinct Interrogation—Two Days—followed by deference to offended Family,” Kanius told Jethro, whose diminutive stature seated upon the rickety stool barely allowed his head to rise above the table. Jethro’s hands, then, were shackled under the table, and more robustly at that, being as they were obstructed from the Regulator’s view.

“Am I meant to be scared of that?” Jethro ran his mouth. Kanius was undeterred by Jethro’s interruption, but did note the Ratling’s willingness to vocalize. That may present as a willingness to inform the Arbites Regulator of their gang’s intents and origins.

“Assault of a Noble Family Member, Including Damaging of Facial Features, Precinct Interrogation—Three Days—followed by deference to offended Family.”

“She got him good then, huh?” Harr asked, grinning for the first time in Throne-knows how many hours. He may not have known of Bliss’s fate, but he did know she had probably broken Scodd’s face inward once the shooting started.

“Opportunity to Confess to your Guilt: Presented,” Kanius declared. Silence followed as Hager continued to beam on toward the Regulator, unflinching. “Noted. Failure to Confess Guilt, Precinct Interrogation—Two Months—followed by Judgment, Discretionary. Identify yourself.”

“Well, would you believe me if I told you a mother could name a child Boyle Shem?” Jethro asked. Kanius glared at the Ratling in silence. “Well, maybe you could for one of my kind. I’ll confess—proudly, I may add—that that ain’t it, praise the Beneficent Emperor. Were you really named Ramiel at birth, or did you go shopping for that one?”

“Do I look like a Nort Godel to you?” Harr asked. Kanius did not respond to questions from the accused. Fair enough, Harr thought. “I like to think I don’t, but then again, I don’t have a picture of Nort Godel in my head. What do you suppose Nort might look like?”

“I said identify yourself,” Kanius insisted, dry vocal inflection unchanging despite the repeated phrase. For the first time since being chained to the desk, Hager’s body moved, if only in tilting his head backward and forward to look Kanius up and down. The carapace armor the Regulator wore was of a far higher quality, unsurprisingly, to that of the Maulers. Its silver form glistened in the lightless shadows of the room, reflecting a glimmer of the nothingness between the pair. The Regulator’s ceramite helmet was shaped like an inverted bowl, flat across the surface that rounded his head, with openings only for the Regulator’s eyes. This helmet descended into the armaplas padding of his neckline, concealing the lower opening of the helmet entirely. “I will not repeat myself a third time.”

“Silas Hager, 54th Psian Jackals,” Hager reported.

“That’s the first honest answer I’ve received from you lot, isn’t it?” Kanius asked.

“You’re interrogating Jethro Ryme, 11th Judicators of Umbra—he’s the Ratling—and Jack Harr, of whom I am unfamiliar with his company,” Hager reported. “Were there other survivors?”

“There were not. You’re all ex-Militarum. That was my suspicion. You carried yourselves too well. Further suspicion—you are no mere soldier,” Kanius insinuated, and took a seat in a far more comfortable chair across from Hager. Comfortable or not, the chair still creaked under the weight of Kanius’s armor.

“The Jackals are Tempestus Scions,” Hager nodded, unflinching from the news of his lost brothers and sisters.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

“I almost don’t believe you. How does one of your breed wind up on Skardak’s Reach doing gang work, and against a Noble House at that?” Kanius asked.

“The answer to that question is beyond your authorization,” Hager replied, voice flatter, even, than the Regulator’s, who already spoke in a near-servitorized tone.

“You are on this planet, and this planet is my authorization. There is nothing on this world I cannot be privy to,” Kanius growled, fists clenching. Hager was not intimidated, and appeared to the Regulator as being almost bored. Kanius paused for a moment, and then relaxed his composure—which is not to say the Arbiter relaxed internally, mind you. “Still, your choice of words answers some questions and raises others. You are on mission here, yes?” Hager remained silent. “A mission from who, then?”

“Someone well beyond your authorization, physically, and authoritatively,” Hager snorted.

So, too, did Kanius, who shook his head in a dry laugh. “I very much doubt that. Try me.”

“Do you expect the temptation of deflating your ego usurps my loyalty? Please,” Hager frowned, visibly insulted.

“If I can’t get it out of a Scion, I’d bet I could get it out of one of those other two,” Kanius shrugged.

“That assumes they know enough to tell you in the first place,” Hager replied.

“I have no idea who the boss is,” Jethro admitted at once.

“But you’ve met her, no?” Kanius asked, pacing in view of the Ratling. He had previously been out of sight, keeping to the shadows.

“Uh, no?”

“Testimony from Scodd Gronheim suggests she was present on this world and involved in an intimate dealing with his gang,” Kanius explained.

“Oh, her. She’s not the boss,” Jethro shrugged.

“Gronheim says otherwise,” Kanius insisted.

“Well, she’s the boss of this gang, but she’s not the boss of—” Jethro started, and then froze in place. “Crap.”

“Your gang isn’t real,” Kanius told Harr.

“Well I can’t imagine Corvin told you that,” Harr grumbled.

“Corvin?” Kanius asked, the name not ringing a bell. Harr paused for a moment, unsure what to say. Kanius recognized this. “The Ratling said he was Boyle Shem, real name Jethro Ryme. You’re Jack Harr. Silas Hager’s name in this operation was Corvin, then, I assume?” Kanius deduced. Did Hager really give up all of that? Harr wondered. He must have. “Jethro didn’t tell me your gang wasn’t real, but you just did. So if it’s not real, it’s a cover for something. What, then?”

“Damn Ratling can’t keep his mouth shut, can he?” Harr muttered. He then looked at the Regulator and shook his head.

“Do you even know what it is you’re doing here, kid?” Kanius asked him.

“Any answer to that question is incriminating in your eyes,” Harr grunted. “Look, what we’re doing here is bigger than I’ll ever be. Same goes for you.”

“You know, I have heard that one before. From some, ah, artifact smugglers I think it was. I shut that operation down. Yours won’t be much different, I imagine,” Kanius laughed.

“I have trouble believing you could imagine mine,” Harr shrugged.

“So you do know what it is.”

“I mean, I know some of it, sure,” Jethro admitted, feeling betrayed by Harr and Hager. How was the damned Scion giving things up, of all people? The Whiteshield brat Jethro could understand, but the Scion? “Listen, Silas frigging Hager knows way more about it than I do, and apparently his mouth is open. Why don’t you dig down there, huh? Because I’m not idiotic enough to betray our organization. You may think you’re a terrifying force in the universe, but if you knew the truth of what we were, you’d be wetting yourself.”

“I think I’ve heard that one too,” Kanius mused. “You know, I think I have some idea.”

“I should hope you do, it’s been a couple days now,” Hager muttered as Kanius strolled into the room. Hager had familiarized himself with the sound of Kanius’s movements, and could hear the Regulator’s approach from several meters away. That was a downside of wearing such heavy carapace armor, Hager had learned from Carmichael. He wondered if she had escaped Gronheim’s clutches. If any could have, she would have.

“Snarky. I’ll remember that,” Kanius warned the Scion. “Allow me to make a guess.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Hager shrugged.

“Intent to Commit Holy Ordo Impersonation, Precinct Interrogation—Three Days—followed by deference to Ordo Authority,” Kanius recited another sentencing.

“It’s only an impersonation if it’s false, and it’s only intent if it isn’t done,” Hager growled.

“We shall see about its falsity. I have dealt with the Inquisition in the past. I confess I would not be surprised at all if they had activities in our Underhive Gangs. The surprising part, to me, is that you did not reach out to the Arbites for assistance on such a local matter,” Kanius grilled Hager. “It’s almost a personal insult, if you actually do serve the Ordos. I thought we were on better terms than that. So go on, then, what is the name of your almighty Inquisitor, hm?”

“His name will serve you little, for his identity will appear deceased,” Hager shrugged.

“That does not do you many favors, Scion,” Kanius shook his head. “One may even wager it damns you more.”

“His name is not known to Jethro and Jack, and he’d prefer it remain that way,” Hager explained to the Regulator.

“But you know it. I’ll play along; I won’t tell them, on the off chance you’re telling the truth,” Kanius offered.

“I have done little else. We are under explicit orders to cooperate with any Arbites we encounter, but we are likewise ordered not to interact with them if it can be helped. It has seemed it could not be helped in this case,” Hager explained. “His name is Inquisitor Callant Blackgar, and he will scour this world clean to get what he needs from it.”

“Well, if this Blackgar fellow does exist, is alive, and is an Inquisitor, I will look forward to dealing with and assisting him howsoever I can,” Kanius replied with a nod. “If any of those fail to be true, you should bid the Throne’s Beneficence farewell, for your services to His Imperium will be at an end.”

“For your sake, you had better hope you find and help him,” Hager muttered.