976.M30 of the Standard Terran Calendar, the fifteenth day after the Kent Hive City tribunal.
Six thirty in the morning.
In Sector F-8 of the Underhive, a brand-new alloy plaque now hung outside the former headquarters of the Scorpion Gang:
[Kent Hive City Underhive Seventh Security Office]
A line of small text was engraved beneath the plaque in common Gothic: "Labor creates peace, order safeguards dignity. Commissioned by the Crimson Dawn Governor's Palace."
Four Youth League members in gray uniforms stood guard at the entrance. Their average age was under twenty-five, but their eyes held a resolve rarely seen among Underhive residents.
The holsters of their standard-issue Laspistols hung open at their waists, their hands always poised three centimeters from the grips. This was the "rapid-response stance" Tax Brother had personally taught them.
"Morning, Old Jack!"
One of the young guards greeted an old miner passing by.
Old Jack paused. He had worked in this area for twenty-seven years, and from the very beginning, he had watched the Scorpion Gang extort protection money here, kidnap young girls, and break disobedient workers' legs before throwing them into slag heaps.
Now those bastards had either been executed in the square or were rotting in some mine deep in the Underhive.
"Morning... morning."
Old Jack nodded awkwardly, instinctively touching the employee badge he had just received, tucked inside his jacket.
It listed his new position: safety supervisor for Mining District Seven. Monthly salary: twelve thousand Aurelian Coins, three meals provided, one day off per week.
"Heading to work?"
The young man smiled. "The lift in Mining District Seven was serviced yesterday. It runs much more smoothly now."
"Yes... yes."
Old Jack hurried away, only daring to glance back after putting some distance between them.
The alloy plaque outside the Security Office gleamed coldly