novelHome #2190 - Fox Hunter
#2190 - Fox Hunter
For the vast majority of the underhive regions of Imperial hive cities, rain seemed to always be a peculiar sight.
At first, everything seemed normal, yet not quite, then the wind would suddenly pick up, and in mere seconds, raindrops would fall, followed by the pavement reflecting starlight, and the high walls and spires becoming damp and dark, remaining patchy even after the sun rose again.
Gabriel McQuire sat in a car in the rain-soaked parking lot, his gray eyes fixed straight ahead.
This was Sagan V, one of the main ports for external access and egress in the Sagan system, and a necessary stop on the main route through the Maelstrom. The majority of ships needed to make a brief stop here before heading to the main planet of Sagan, so Sagan V was also the third-largest spaceport in the Maelstrom, second only to Sagan Prime and Sagan II. Nearly all the hive cities on the planet existed to serve trade.
Especially the planet's main hive city, Lacedaemon, which had become a gathering place for merchants and a mixed bag of characters. The Expeditionary Force setting up a new recruit training camp on Sagan V added a different kind of "vitality" to the area.
Accompanying the booming economy was, of course, a serious crime problem, as well as smuggling.
As the youngest law enforcement officer in the Sagan Department of Justice, the mere 20-year-old McQuire had arrested countless smugglers, drug dealers, human traffickers, illegal organ traders, illegal technology traders, alien goods traffickers, and more throughout his law enforcement career. The vast majority were desperados, and he had brushed shoulders with death countless times, even jokingly calling himself a gold coin that the Emperor couldn't spend.
But in recent years, he had encountered the most difficult opponent, who was also the prey he most longed to capture.
Suddenly, the clouds above the hive city began to glow, the torrential rain stopped in an instant, and the entire atmosphere began to rise and fall, bend, and churn, swirling into a massive vortex in the center of the clouds.
Then the black vortex grew larger and larger until a huge shuttle appeared, bursting out of the clouds like a wild beast, shedding steam and grime, its braking thrusters burning at full speed, and its long wings sliding down in front of a favorable position as they emerged from the clouds.
Gabriel immediately pulled out his binoculars, seeing the scratches on the metal hull of the massive shuttle, marks left by nearly a thousand takeoffs and landings and atmospheric friction. The markings on its sides were almost worn away. Such a giant shuttle was often the product of a collaboration between the Adeptus Mechanicus and large commercial groups.
Generally, there would be hundreds of crew members operating on board, along with a considerable number of industrial servitors. Those servitors were usually huge and ugly, but they worked with the tenacity of a Grox herd.
The scene of the giant shuttle landing was breathtaking. The shuttle's landing gear extended, its thrusters spewing flames, and it finally landed on the majestic platform, like a fat bird landing on its nest.
With almost no pause, steel cables connected to the platform's anchoring devices, coolant flooded the shuttle's jets, and unloading work began even before the thrusters had spat out the last few wisps of pale yellow flame.
"How often does this kind of landing take place?"
Putting down his binoculars, Gabriel asked the man in the driver's seat, his most trusted informant, Bab.
The stubble-faced man pondered for a moment, then replied:
"About every 23 standard Terra days. Also, before that, they prepare extra storage locations for the upcoming goods."
"The recent explosions near the spaceport must be related to this?"
The informant shrugged slightly.
"A shrinking pond always attracts predators. Everyone knows the crusade is about to end, and everyone wants to get the last of the spoils. The struggle for the rights to use the spaceport and warehouses has been ongoing. Some are internal conflicts between corporations, some are from various criminal groups, and of course, there are always some figures above the clouds standing behind them."
"The spaceport has never been a safe place, and there are indeed such problems, but the goods are still flowing. You know what I'm asking."
The informant pondered for a moment, shaking his head.
"Buddy, you know, no one wants to talk about the Gray Fox Group. When the surrounding gangs are fighting over truck routes, they disappear as soon as they see the Gray Fox's mark."
Gabriel smiled.
"So you should also know why I'm here. The Expeditionary Force's smuggling ban has actually made some industries more profitable, just like the demand for illegal drugs and smuggled weapons never disappears, right?"
"Undeniably, drugs and weapons are the most stable demands, even until the end of the world."
"The transportation and storage of these things are not easy. We have reason to believe that only the largest criminal group can smuggle through the official spaceport so blatantly. This is also the root cause of the recent frequent violent incidents. Everyone wants a piece of the pie under the Gray Fox. I've been tracking this criminal group for four years, but I haven't caught any of their core members yet. No matter how many grunts you catch, it's useless. They can only access the most basic business. Not long ago, I handled a large-scale gang conflict on Sagan III. The violence even spread to the mid-hive, causing thousands of casualties. During the inspection of the scene, the Department of Justice discovered that they had obtained newly manufactured military weapons—specifically, military-grade small arms of unknown origin."
The law enforcement officer's thumb and forefinger rested on his chin.
"Bab, what do you think about them getting such weapons?"
"I don't know, sir, but it's wartime now. It doesn't seem difficult for military weapons to flow into civilian hands?"
"That's the problem. In wartime, such a large amount of weapon smuggling is unregulated? This Gray Fox, the people behind it have a lot of influence. In just a few years, it has grown from a small smuggling gang to the most prominent gray industry group in the entire Maelstrom, even using force to eliminate behemoths like the Thirteen Silver Coins. Bab, do you know that gang war was even called 'The Apocalypse' by the scum? More than twenty hive cities were involved, and hundreds of thousands of people died as a result."
"Isn't it good for the scum to fight among themselves? Not to mention that the Thirteen Silver Coins were a group of scum with a terrible reputation, specializing in the most despicable black industries like human trafficking and organ trading."
Gabriel stared at his old friend of more than ten years, then whispered,
"Bab, don't you think the Gray Fox looks 'better'?"
The informant sighed softly.
"Sir, I walk in the underhive every day, dealing with all kinds of people. To be honest, you should understand that gangs and groups can't be eliminated. If one is destroyed, another will appear. So why don't we choose one that looks less bad?"
"So it looks not bad today, who can guarantee that it won't be the second Thirteen Silver Coins tomorrow? More importantly, the power behind supporting these people. There are already enough parasites in the Maelstrom. When soldiers are fighting on the front lines, why should these damn bastards be allowed to eat their fill and be high above, not enough, but also reach out to these illegal businesses!"
"Gabriel, you're too radical. In the Imperium, sometimes, the law doesn't fully work."
"Okay, enough talk. Have you arranged everything?"
Bab nodded.
"Good, immediately notify the other squads and launch the operation!"