Editing Days of Judgement (Warhammer High) (section)

===Dawn over Hive Tetra===
He’d left the body in the case of the Verispex Squad, who would now forensically examine the body to find out if the killers left anything behind. Not that there's much left to find, Huulta thought grimly. 

He drove back to the precinct courthouse, sardonically nicknamed by the underhive as the ‘hall of justice,’ in silence. He was half-listening to the radio in his helmet in case something else came up. They had conducted a major sweep of the hive not a month ago for Chaos Cults, and turned up empty. Now this. 

The duty room of the Tetra precinct courthouse occupied almost the entire seventh floor, a massive space where the entire hive was monitored and all crimes investigated. Outside, four guards perpetually stood watch at each door, two with standard Arbites Shotguns, and the other two carrying heavier and deadlier Boltguns. Even Huulta was not above suspicion as they checked his ID card and scrutinised it, ensuring he was who he said he was. Finally the doors opened with a snap of electronic bolts, and he was waved through. 

A massive holo-desk dominated the center. It displayed a huge 3D model of Hive Tetra, small blue lights showing Arbite patrols as they made their way around the Hive, and red lights highlighting incidents and on-going investigations in particular areas. There was a new one down on level one hundred and seventy-three, where Huulta had found the body. 

The main wall had an even larger map of the entire of Macharia, every hive lit up and data on all Arbite operations across the planet coasting alongside. The date sat over it, 2 612 266 M36, or in layman’s terms the sixth of Primus. One thousand, nine hundred and sixty seven years after the end of the Great Crusade and into the Pax Imperialis, the Imperial Peace won at such cost by the Legions of Humanity. In all that time the Imperium of Man had endured and thrived, despite the countless other wars and disasters which came and went with the passage of time. The Emperor’s dream had come true. 

The duty officer, Zavi Rulae, sat overlooking it all from his high dais, and he waved to Huulta in greeting. Rulae was one of the very few Huulta respected, for his dedication to duty and willingness to speak his mind. Beneath him, a dozen servitors received and distilled the information on all goings on in the hive, the good and the bad, extracting from it what the Arbites needed to hear and transferring it to where it was needed. 

The left wall had the incident board on it, a record of all the crimes within the last 24 hours which demanded the Arbites attentions. Hundreds of incidents lined the walls, updated every few minutes as more details came to light. The incidents for murders were split into four columns: Time, Fatalities, Location and Investigating Officer. The worst incident up - 3H 9D 2K -  referred to a drug bust shootout down on level eighty-seven between the Orpo and one of the lowerhive gangs close to 23:00 the previous night in which three Orpo officers, nine gangers and two bystanders were killed and the Arbites had to be called as backup. It would be front page news in just a few hours when the papers came out. 

The record for Huulta’s morning was listed at the bottom: 05:57 [O] 1H L13SG/Huulta [S]. The [O] for the source of the notification, the Orpo, and the [S] standing for the special circumstances of the case, the only indication of the true nature of what they had found there.  

“Rulae, what have you got for me?” he asked as he approached the dais. 

“Verispex have the DNA, they will have a result within a few hours. I’ve dragged up the missing persons list for you, but believe me it’s a long one, even for the last forty-eight hours. A hundred and nineteen potentials to troll through.” 

Huulta nodded. “Thanks. I’ll get right onto it.” 

Rulae shook his head. “Saal, you put in twice the hours of anyone else, at least. You take every single case that comes your way. Are you ever going to take a day off?” 

Huulta had no answer for him. He just scowled as he headed off for the Judge’s office. But his words bit true. Reinhold had once described Huulta as ‘a tightly wound coil of anger, control and purpose’, and he was right. Anger at those who broke the law, control which dominated his life, and his purpose to protect and serve. Huulta lived for his job and the overwhelming compulsion to know, to understand, to seek the truth, to control the void in his soul which drove everything he did. 

“Sir I…” he started as he entered. 

“You want priority.”  

“Yes sir. I know we have a backlog going all the way back to M35, and the Ordo is on your back for traitors, heretics and God-Emperor knows what else. But I have a feeling about this case, do this for me.” 

“Already done Huulta.” Reinhold tapped something out on his holopad. His tone abruptly shifted, as he added. 

“Huulta, this is Chaos we’re talking about, or at least it seems to be Chaos. I’m of half a mind to put a call out to Nemesis Tessera…” 

“Look sir, the last thing we need is the bloody Ordo sniffing around. We can do this without their help.” He did not try to hide the distaste in his words. 

“The Ordo was Malcador’s last gift to the galaxy, a way to safeguard his legacy and keep the galaxy safe from the threats within.” 

“He was dying at the time sir. His mind was not in the right place.” 

Reinhold stifled a laugh. “Huulta, we all like you, but I’d prefer you didn’t refer to the late Lord Regent of Terra in that way next time. He may have died nearly two thousand years ago, but his legacy lives on and you will refer to him with the respect his memory deserves. Got it?" he shook his head. "Good grief, you and your anti-Ordo streak will drive me round the bend before long.” 

Huulta saluted and swiftly headed for his office. His opinions on certain matters and certain organisations and people were well known, and often landed him in trouble. It wasn’t his fault if he felt very strongly about them, and was willing to argue his point of view until the grox came home. 

The office he shared with his partner was an airy room, a window behind each desk providing some ‘natural’ light from the great Lumen Strips outside. His half of the office was neat and tidy, a bookshelf full of law books and a few old history books stacked in nice neat rows. Huulta had a passion for history books, his favourite a well-worn copy of the War for Ullanor, a history of the famous campaign and triumph during the Great Crusade. He set Oathkeeper down, leaned back in his chair and set to work on the list of names. For nearly an hour he worked his way along, name by name, face by face. Hard to think that the ruined flesh he had found in that warehouse might be one of these people. His train of thought was only interrupted by the sound of the door and a booming voice. 

“Saal, y’old bugga. Already mired in work? That helmet’s on for one thing, d’you sleep in it while on the case?” 

Huulta got up and went over to greet his closest colleague and friend. Byrio Zofall was a bear of a man, a massive tangled black beard framing his face and a belly which could barely fit into his carapace armour. They had first been paired up nearly fifty years ago, and had developed a close working relationship since. Byrio was married with two children, and Huulta had often gone to dinner with the Zofalls. 

“You know me too well, if there’s a case to be solved, I’m on it. How are the kids?” 

“Doing well. Yoncy’s driving me up the wall, as usual. Teenage girls, who’d have ‘em?” They both laughed, but Saal felt something twinge within, like he had heard that phrase before. Huulta forgot about it as he explained the details of his case to Zofall, the mutilated body and the symbol of the Octed it made, what the Judge thought about it and the threat to get the Ordos involved. Zofall took it all in with a series of grunts. With his appearance and speech, there was no wonder his nickname was ‘the bear.’ 

The door banged open, revealing Judge Reinhold. Huulta immediately rose to his feet. 

“Verispex has come through, and we have the identity of the victim. Name of Zahael Joernia, a Calibanian tradesman.” 

Huulta cursed at the name, or rather where the name had come from. “Does this mean we’re going to have to…?” 

“Yes. If someone from a Legion homeworld is found murdered in a suspected Chaos ritual, then we will have to inform the Legion representative on Cadia.” 

“First the Ordos, now the bloody Legions. The only thing which could make my day worse is if the bitches were also involved.” Huulta snarled. He didn’t need this level of confusion, not this early into the case. He needed control. 

Zofall grimaced at Huulta’s words, while Reinhold shook his head. “Please Saal; don’t start another rant about how much you dislike them. Hell, you’re the only person I’ve ever met, maybe the only person on the entire of Macharia who has an active dislike for the Royal Daughters, which borders on obsession sometimes. That sort of thing gets you in trouble with the Ordo. The only reason you haven’t been taken away for questioning is because I’ve interceded on your behalf every bloody time.” 

“And I thank you for that sir. I may dislike the Royal Bitches intensively, I may think they’ve never done anything remotely good for the Imperium unlike their fathers, I may state that they’ve never proven themselves worthy of the accolades we seem to throw at them daily and I may question why anyone even cares about those angsty fugs, but I’m not about to do any more than air that discontentment. I’m not like any of those nutters who voiced their opinions with a gun, especially not the Dark Ones or the Grey Ghost. Hell, the last one was over three hundred years ago, and she shot herself before they could arrest her, and even the Grey Ghost was finally hunted down by the Night Haunter after he tried to kill them all...” Huulta stopped as he realized just how far over the edge he’d gone. 

The silence was deafening, the long pause as the other two just glared at him. Zofall was the first to break the silence. “Saal, for th’sake of our long friendship, would ya please shut the fug up?” he sighed audibly. “Your shtick got old forty years ago. I get it, ya hate ‘em. I don’t need t’be reminded.” 

“Me either.” Reinhold now joined in. His voice was soft, but there was a clear undercurrent of authority to it that made Saal cringe. “And as for the Ghost, I read the report you wrote on him, and the other two. And I am the reason that report didn’t get you sent to a camp. Remember that before you go off on another rant about them.” 

Saal grimaced. That was a sore point. “I’ve never forgotten sir. Plus no matter what you think of my personal opinions you need me, no one in a thousand light years will be stubborn enough to see this case through.” 

“No there isn’t.” Reinhold admitted. “Very well Saal, I’ll let you get to it. Don’t worry about the Ordos, the Legions or anything else, I’ll handle it. You just do that thing you do, and find our killer. Check out the victim’s hab first, see if you can uncover any clues there.” 

Huulta nodded and strode off. His task truly began now.