Chameleon Gang

After passing through several more airtight blast doors, Yarrick gained a new understanding of the Chameleon Gang, the largest gang in the lower hive.

Unlike the gangs he had seen before, which ruled the lower hive residents through lawlessness, murderous brutality, and the madness brought on by crude biological modifications, the Chameleon Gang possessed the unique order and strict discipline of a military force. The gang enforcers patrolling the residential districts did not wear excessive madness or malice on their faces. Though they still did not look like upstanding citizens, they were far more normal than the Cannibal Gang Yarrick had seen on Katelan Industrial World.

Flamethrower Reid walked not far from Yarrick, pursing his lips as he proudly recounted the glorious history of the Chameleon Gang.

"See these good lads? Our Chameleon Gang swept through the entire lower hive of Hades Hive without finding a single rival, all thanks to my training and our boss's wisdom."

Yarrick gave Lede a noncommittal glance. Having seen real soldiers, he had no interest in these gangsters' childish games. They had better be capable of fighting, so they could hold out until reinforcements arrived during the coming Ork assault.

Lede led Yarrick and the others to a factory, where the sight before him broadened his horizons. Several production lines manufacturing vehicles and ammunition were in operation. Residents from the Chameleon Gang's core territory worked here, assembling firearms, ammunition, and armored vehicles. By the God-Emperor, Yarrick swore he had even seen a crude Leman Russ tank roll off the production line.

"See that? We dug this tank factory out of the ruins with our bare hands. It took years of operation to reach its current scale."

Yarrick had no choice but to reassess the gang's strength. He suddenly began to worry whether he could persuade their mysterious boss to join the defense force against the Orks.

"You may enter. They may not."

The two guards at the entrance stretched out their hands to block Yarrick and the soldiers behind him. Beside them, Lede raised his Meltagun at Yarrick's group. If they chose to refuse, he would kill them.

After handing over his boltgun and power sword, Yarrick entered the most heavily guarded gang stronghold in the lower hive with Lede. A man with a harsh, gloomy face sat in a leather chair, holding a glass of liquor that glimmered orange.

"Greetings, Commissar Yarrick. Since this is our first meeting, allow me to introduce myself. I am Domisilon, head of the Chameleon Gang."

"Greetings, Domisilon."

"Lede told me you want to conscript us?"

"That's right."

"Ho ho ho. If you want a gang of enforcers to help you, then you'll need to pay a price."

"Loyalty to The Emperor is the greatest reward."

"Ho ho ho, that empty nonsense again. I thought Lede had already told you it didn't work down here in the lower hive."

"He did."

"Then why are you still saying it? Are you mocking me?"

Domisilon's narrow eyes grew colder and bloodier with every word. If Yarrick could not give him a satisfactory answer, he would certainly kill this completely unarmed Imperial commissar. As for The Emperor's punishment? He did not care. Being born in this damned lower level and clawing his way up to where he stood today had already been punishment enough.

"If the Orks breach Hades Hive, no one will survive."

"Isn't that perfect? Those lofty nobles and officials can die alongside us. Fair enough. I like these Orks."

"Listen, Domisilon. I despise those drunken, decadent nobles as much as you do."

"Mm-hm."

"So, are you interested in helping me clean out the nobles in the upper levels?"

"Pfft!!!!"

A mouthful of liquor sprayed from Domisilon's mouth, and his previously unconcerned elegance instantly shattered. He had calculated every possibility. He had thought this commissar would use the innocence of the hive residents, Loyalty to The Emperor, and punishment from the Imperium to coerce and threaten him. Instead, this commissar wanted to purge the hive's nobles completely.

Domisilon sat upright and stared seriously at Yarrick. "You're actually serious? Are you sure you're a commissar and not an Ork spy who snuck in?"

Yarrick said nothing. He merely looked at Domisilon calmly.

"Hahaha." Domisilon chuckled softly and extended his hand. "Then? Happy hunting?"

"No. Happy cooperation. Calling those nobles prey would be far too insulting."

Laughing so hard he rocked back and forth, Domisilon made no attempt to hide his approval and admiration for Yarrick. "Care for a drink, my dear?"

Commissar Yarrick and his soldiers emerged from the Chameleon Gang's territory with solemn expressions. He had successfully conscripted these warriors skilled in street fighting, though he had paid for them with the nobles' lives. Yet he felt not the slightest guilt over betraying the nobles. To the Imperium, these cowards who had lost the courage to fight no longer deserved the title of nobility.

This also gave Yarrick a precious opportunity to completely reorganize the production lines and resource allocation of Hades Hive. Those nobles did nothing but obstruct him and drain the supplies that should have been distributed. He had had enough of von Strab, enough of these tedious, overbearing nobles. If they truly held Hades Hive and survived the Orks, he would head straight for von Strab's bedroom and put a large hole through his fat forehead.

After gathering the battle reports from Heglas Hive, Yarrick realized deeply that Hades Hive's defenses needed a change in approach. Against the countless tough-skinned Orks, defending the hive through positional warfare would be suicide. They had to completely abandon the outer districts and relocate the upper hive's vital facilities into the middle levels, or even the lower levels.

The Planetary Defense Force, gang members, and hive residents would engage the Orks at close quarters within the complex underground terrain. All of Hades Hive would become a nail driven into the subcontinent, drawing an endless stream of Ork attacks.

This enormous city would become the grave of countless Orks and humans, and Yarrick would be its most steadfast grave-builder.

"Shouldn't you be with your boss? Why are you following me?"

After finishing his thoughts on how to build the future defenses and adjust the production lines, Yarrick turned and questioned Flamethrower Reid.

"I... I..." It was as though the arrogant, crude Flamethrower Reid from the lower hive had vanished. His awkward, bashful manner made the anger Yarrick had been holding back threaten to flare up. Just as Yarrick was about to lose patience and unleash a torrent of the Emperor's holy profanity, Flamethrower Reid spoke. "I... I want to join the Astra Militarum."

Apparently surprised by the request, Yarrick forcibly swallowed the curse that had reached his lips.

"Then you can submit an application to the Departmento Munitorum."

"They won't process it. They say I smell like the sewers. They'll only arrest you, send you to the Adeptus Arbites to be beaten half to death, then send you to the Planetary Defense Force as a laborer. I don't want to join the Planetary Defense Force."

Yarrick looked at the now-shy man, unsure what to say. But under Lede's almost pleading gaze, he did not know what madness came over him. "Then come serve as my guard and instructor. Train those people to survive in the hive. Once this war is over, you'll join the Astra Militarum."

"You'd better not be lying."

"An Imperial commissar never lies."