The Iron Skulls

Submitted into Contest #262 in response to: Set your story during the hottest day of the year.... view prompt

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Crime Science Fiction

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

     Midsummer, hottest day of the year. Inferno’s twin suns were low in the sky, their heat threatening to overwhelm my groundcar’s cooling systems. The weather forecast predicted a high of thirty-five.  Given how warm it was already, I placed my bets on forty.

     I nodded at a couple of sanctioners coming off night duty as I walked into the squad room of Bastion-V, the cool air a welcome relief.

     I sat down at my desk. I was about to pull up the night shift’s action reports when the castellan leaned out of her office. “Karleton, get in here.”

     I went into her office. Kai Orso was short, standing only 160 centimeters tall. Her black hair, streaked with gray, was cut in military fashion.  Awards from her service to the Imperial Guard and The Lex adorned the walls of her office. She waved to a seat in front of her darkwood desk.

     “What’s going on,” I asked as I sat down. I took out a lho stick and offered her one. She shook her head as I leaned back in my seat, blowing smoke to the ceiling.

     “Missing persons case,” she responded, sipping from a cup of recaf. “Alphonse Rondo’s daughter has gone missing.”

     I let out a whistle. House Rondo was one of the more powerful families in the Voidport district, if not Inferno itself. The Rondo Conglomerate controlled most of the heavy metal mining on the planet, as well as shipping and manufacturing.

     “Details?”

     Orso sent a report to my iris augment. “She failed to show up for a strategy meeting this morning. You are to meet him at his estate in the Groveland Park district at 1200.”

     I stubbed out my lho stick in an ashtray. “I’m on it.”

     “Gregor,” she said as I stood up. “House Rondo has a lot of pull.  Don’t mess this up.”

     “When have I ever?”

                                                              ***

     Groveland Park was on the north side of the Voidport district. Gilded that weren’t slumming it lived there in safety behind electric fences topped with concertina wire and patrolled by ex-military guards and gun servitors.

     The trip up from Bastion-V took forty minutes. The glowing hololiths and neon of the commercia district gave way to the grimy factoria of the industrial district, followed by a drab hab block. A strip of open desert separated Groveland Park from the squalor below it.

     A guard stepped out of a small shack at the South Gate as I approached. I hoped for his sake that it was air conditioned: the temperature was already thirty-two. I rolled down my window as he approached and a blast furnace breeze warred with the icy air inside my ground car.

     The guard peered in the window. A scar ran from the corner of his mouth, bisecting his left eye, giving him a permanent snarl. “State your business,” he growled.

     I flashed my Probator’s holoseal. “Probator Gregor Karleton to see Alphonse Rondo.”

     “One moment, Probator,” he said, returning to the guard house.  Moments later, he came back. “The Rondo estate is at plot 142.  Turn left and go up a kilometer.  It will be on your left.”

     He slapped a temporary pass on my windscreen and waved me forward.  The gate opened on my approach and I made my way past several gaudy displays of opulence. Spires of crystal, silver metal, or glowing white marble reached towards the skies. Compared to these, the Rondo estate seemed almost austere: a sprawling mansion made of red brick and white marble, covered in ivy, surrounded by an immaculately kept lawn. The water cost alone must’ve been staggering.

     I drove up a gravel drive to the front of the house. I stepped out of the car and immediately broke into a sweat.  I walked up the stairs where a small, wiry man dressed in an impeccable tailored gray suit was waiting.

     “Probator Karleton,” he began, extending his hand. “I’m Severus Alexander, Ser Alphonse’s secretary.”

     I shook his hand.  “Pleased to meet you. Can you tell me anything about the disappearance of his daughter?”

     Severus started up the stairs. “If you will follow me.” We walked up the stairs in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. “Ser Alphonse would rather I not speak of it, but Serra Elinor’s disappearance has hit us hard. She was well-liked among the staff.”

     We walked through a hallway decorated with marble busts of the previous heads of House Rondo, plush red carpet muffling our steps. Severus led me to a large wooden door. He knocked once, opened the door, and stepped inside. I followed him into a tastefully decorated office. Hunting trophies adorned the walls, hanging above bookshelves filled with books, scrolls, and dataslates. A large darkwood desk stood before a large window that overlooked the grounds.

     Alphonse Rondo sat behind the desk, looking at a cogitator screen. Severus walked up to the desk and cleared his throat. “Probator Karleton is here, Ser Alphonse.”

     Rondo looked up from the cogitator, “Right on time, Probator. I do appreciate promptness. Please, have a seat. Might I interest you in a glass of amasec?”

     I sat down, taking a good look at Rondo. Unlike many of the gilded I’ve encountered, he had an athlete’s build: lithe and muscular. I called up his dossier on my iris augment. Thanks to rejuvenat treatments, he looked like a man in his forties, instead of his recorded age of ninety-six. He kept his red hair tied back in a queue.  He looked at me with piercing green eyes, sizing me up in turn.

     “I’m sorely tempted, but I will have to pass, being on duty and all.”

     Rondo turned to Severus, “Severus, give my regards to the cook and have him send up a carafe of recaf and a pot of grox stew. I’m sure the good Probator wouldn’t turn down a meal.”

     Severus nodded and left, pulling the door closed behind him. Rondo leaned back in his seat, steepling his fingers in front of his face. “I’m sure you have questions about my daughter.”

     I started a recording with a blink-click. “Of course, Ser Alphonse.”

     He interrupted me. “No need to be so formal, Probator. Alphonse will do.”

     “Alphonse,” I called up the report Orso had given me on my iris. “You reported her missing when she failed to appear at this morning’s strategy meeting.”

     “Correct.”

     “Yet the report says that she had also failed to appear at an inspection of one of your factoria the previous evening.  Why not report her missing then?”

     “Elinor has a habit of skipping inspection tours. She finds them ‘dreadfully boring.’ I’ve tried to impress upon her the importance of them many times, to no avail. I thought nothing of it at the time. But she never misses a strategy meeting.”

     “Did she mention any plans for that evening?”

     “No.”

     I was about to ask the usual questions about enemies, romantic entanglements and such when a knock came at the door. “That will be the stew. You really must try it,” he said as the door opened, revealing not the cook, but Severus holding a small package.

     Severus walked up to the desk and set the package down. “A courier delivered this to the guard house. I’ve swept it for explosives or contaminants, it’s clean.”

     Rondo picked up an ornate silver opener and sliced through the tape. He opened the box and the color drained from his face. “Throne,” he said weakly, pushing the box towards me. I looked inside to see a human finger nestled in black velvet, wearing a signet ring bearing the symbol of House Rondo.

     I pulled on a set of gloves and inspected the box. I took a few pictures of the box and its contents with my iris augment. “Is there somewhere I can more closely inspect this?”

     Rondo said nothing, holding his head in his hands and sobbing quietly. Severus motioned me to follow him and turned to lead me out of the office.

     As we left, Rondo spoke, his voice raw and cracked with emotion. “Probator, find whomever did this and bring them to justice.  Do this and your Bastion will want for nothing.”

     I nodded, recognizing the unspoken threat of what would happen if I failed. “I will get her back Alphonse, alive and well. These scum have run afoul of The Lex and will stand before the Emperor to be judged. His hand.”

     Severus led me to a small den where I renewed my investigation of the box. I pulled a small null casket from my pocket and set it on the table. I placed the finger in the casket and pressed the activation rune. Under the velvet was a ransom note and a small metal disk. The ransom note asked for one hundred thousand crowns, and said instructions for payment were forthcoming.  One hundred thousand seemed a paltry sum for one of the gilded. The disk had a grinning skull crudely etched into it, the calling card of the Iron Skulls.

     The Iron Skulls were a new gang on the streets of Voidport, rising to prominence after the last ganger war wiped out a most of the older gangs. The Skulls weren’t regarded as the cream of the criminal crop, rising only because they had no real competition. 

     I headed back to my ground car, stopping long enough to update Rondo. The inside of the car was like an oven. I briefed Orso on the case as I drove into the warehouse district.  It was time to have a chat with the Iron Skulls.

                                                             ***

     The Iron Skulls were based in an abandoned customs building near the edge of the warehouse district. A shuttle lifted off from the nearby voidport, clawing its way to its mother ship in orbit above.

     I walked up to the building, my hand hovering over my Tzarina autopistol. Two Iron Skulls stood outside the door.  They bristled as I approached. “Evening gents,” I called out. “Might I have a word with Ferrum?”

     They hesitated, probably wondering if I had a sanctioner squad hidden nearby. Eventually, they opened the door. “Boss Ferrum is inside.”

     I bowed slightly. “Thanks.”

     The inside was somewhat dark, illuminated by a few sputtering lumens. Most of the inspection stations had been removed, creating a large open area. Several gang members sat around tables or lounged around in chairs. They all looked up at me as I passed by.

     In the center of the room was the command throne from an Imperial Navy cruiser. Seated there was a fat, balding man with a drooping mustache. He took a bite from a slab of grox meat he held in a greasy hand and regarded me. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Probator Karleton?”

     “I’ve come to ask you about the abduction of Elinor Rondo, Ferrum” I replied. I held up the metal disk. “Seems like one of your boys snatched her last night.”

     “Rondo? As in Rondo Conglomerate?”

     “Yes.”

     “You’re wrong, Probator. None of my crew would be so foolish as to directly take on the gilded.”

     I indicated the disk. “This proves otherwise.”

     Ferrum shifted his bulk on the throne. “Anyone can etch a skull into a metal disk.  This is a frame-up concocted by our rivals.”

     A Skull with flaming orange hair spoke up. “Boss, I think this is Orbis’ doing.”

     Rage flared in Ferrum’s eyes. “Orbis? That wanker?”

     “Yeah Boss, I overheard him, Josef, Snake-Eyes, and The Kid talking about snatching a gilded for ransom. Now that I think on it, I haven’t seen them around here lately.”

     Ferrum was trembling with fury. “How dare he! Do you know where they are?”

     The orange-haired Skull scratched his nose. “They did mention an old junkyard near the voidport.”

     Ferrum turned to me. “I can send some of my boys over to straighten Orbis out and get you your hostage.”

     I held up my hand. “Not this time. If you go in there like a grox in a china shop the hostage could end up dead, which would make her father very angry.  I don’t think you want one of the gilded gunning for you.  Let us handle this.”

                                                               ***

     Back at Bastion-V, I updated Orso on my progress. “Iron Skulls,” she said, rolling her eyes.  “Emperor forgive me, but I miss competent criminals. How do you want to handle this?”

     “Four renegade Skulls are behind this. A small team should suffice, anything larger could risk Elinor’s life. We don’t want to be on Rondo’s bad books.”

     Orso nodded. “His support could go a long way.”

     “I want Pollson and Griz, they’ll keep their heads under fire. Have a medicae team nearby to treat Elinor.”

     “Gather your team.  I’ll have a Zhukov on the roof in ten.”

                                                                ***

     “Orbis and his three accomplices are holed up in a small office in this junkyard.”

     We were in a Zukov gunship heading across Voidport’s industrial district. Pointing at a hololith, I indicated the office, “The office consists of two rooms and one entrance. I reckon there will be one guard out front, one out back, and one inside the front room. Orbis and the hostage are most likely in the back room.  

     “There’s windows in the front of the building. Pollson, you should be able to take out the ganger inside if you set up on this crane here,” I continued, pointing at the hololith.

     Pollson nodded, checking the sights on her sniper rifle.

     Griz looked at the hololith and pointed to the back of the office. “I’ll go around back and take out the ganger there.”

     “Good.  I’ll take out the one in the front.”

     The pilot came over the vox. “Drop zone in five.”

     “Acknowledged,” I replied. I looked at my team. “Remember, we need to keep Elinor Rondo alive or her father could make the Bastion suffer.”

     We finished checking our weapons as the Zukov approached the drop zone. The gunship dropped down on the far side of the junkyard, the sound of its engines drowned out by an incoming shuttle.  The ramp crashed to the ground and we ran into the junkyard.  The Zukov lifted off and peeled off towards Bastion-V.

     “Vox click when you’re in position. I’m one, Pollson two, and Griz three.  Move out.”

     Cautiously, we made our way to our positions.  The heat came at me from all sides, the metal in the junkyard reflecting and magnifying the heat. Sweat prickled inside my bulky flak armor. Crouching low, I headed towards the rusted out remains of a Leman Russ tank.  Once there, I and clicked my vox once.  Moments later, two clicks came from Pollson, followed shortly by Griz’s three.

     “I see one Skull patrolling near the door,” I voxed. “How about you guys?”

     “I got a Skull walking a beat back here,” came Griz’s reply.

     “My mark is playing solitaire, if you can believe it,” said Pollson.

     I consulted shuttle schedules on my iris. “A shuttle is due in two minutes. The landing should mask the shots.”

     My team acknowledged my orders.  A minute or so later, I heard the sound of the descending shuttle. “Go,” I voxed when the shuttle was halfway down.  I aimed and squeezed the trigger. A ragged hole appeared in the Skull’s chest and he dropped to the ground. At the same moment, the glass in one of the front windows shattered as Pollson’s round punched through.

     I ran towards the front door and pushed it open.  A Skull was draped over the table, the back of her head blown away. Griz came in the door moments later. “Bastion-V Probators,” I yelled. “Release your hostage and come out with your hands up!”

     I was rewarded with a blast of stubber fire. Griz looked over at me. “Did you really think that would work?”

     I tossed him a grin. “It works in the holos. We rush the door. You go low and I’ll go high.”

     “It’s got to work better than yelling ‘Probator’,” Griz shot back.

     We ran towards the door, Griz diving to the floor as I kicked open the door. Orbis stood behind a rickety pasteboard desk, one arm wrapped around Elinor Rondo and the other pressing a stubber to her head. “Back away Probator,” he cried out.

     “You know I can’t do that Orbis,” I replied. 

     “I’ll kill her,” Orbis threatened, his finger tightening ever so slightly on the trigger.

     “You kill her and you lose any leverage you have. Shoot her and you’ll be dead before she hits the floor.”

     “I’m warning you,” he said, but I could tell he was wavering. Noting his distraction, Elinor sprang into action. She stomped down hard on Orbis’ foot and at the same time drove her head into his face. I heard the crunch of cartilage and blood spurted from Orbis’ nose.

     Orbis stumbled backward, dropping his stubber to the ground and cradling his ruined face. Griz fired, hitting Orbis in his stomach.  The Skull spun under the impact and dropped. 

     “You’re safe now,” I reassured Elinor. “Let’s get you back home.”

                                                              ***

     A few hours later, I sat with Orso in the cafeteria of Bastion-V. Alphonse Rondo had sent over a batch of grox stew. I thought you’d like to try this now everything is over, read a note attached to the pot. Alphonse was right, the stew was something special.

     “Good work today Karleton,” Orso said around a mouthful of stew. “Rondo is very appreciative of your efforts.”

     “All in a day’s work, Kai,” I said, helping myself to another bowl.

     “Rondo pulled some strings and got us a bigger appropriation for the next fiscal cycle. We can get some things upgraded around here. He also secured you a promotion to Probator Senioris.”

     I nodded and dug into my stew. Not a bad result: I saved a woman’s life, did something good for the Bastion, and got a little something for myself in the bargain. I finished my stew, said my goodbyes to Orso, and headed home.

August 08, 2024 20:59

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2 comments

James Johnson
10:37 Aug 15, 2024

The first part of the story worked very well with a strong sense of atmosphere and the gradual building of tension which culminated in the delivery of the finger. Things felt a little rushed after that - perhaps the 3000 words allowed weren't quite enough. Still, this was a nicely written and entertaining story overall.

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Michael Robinson
19:01 Aug 15, 2024

Yeah, I had to chop 350+ words. I find that I have to gallop to the ending on my past two submissions.

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