# You Don't Mess with an Arbite-Micro story



## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

This is the story that I wrote as a challenge from a buddy of mine to create a story less than 1000 words. It also is the first time my arbite Maltorian shows up heh heh heh.

Good luck and good gaming,

Nate

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Arbite Maltorian took in the scene of the crime with a sweep of his eyes, the monochromatic black of his armor making a stark contrast to the alabaster walls of the small worship hall of Choral City. The stench of fresh blood was so thick in the air he could almost taste it. Racking the slide on his combat shotgun, he trained the weapon back and forth looking for something to kill. This was the third temple hit this month and, with no clues, the forces of the Adeptus Arbites had been left scratching their collective heads.

“This is Maltorian of the Adeptus Arbites. You are to surrender yourselves to me now! Come out and face justice”, shouted Maltorian as he heard the scrabbling sound of someone behind the altar. 

He was rewarded with the bark of autogun fire. Dodging behind a pew, he opened up, his shotgun roaring in return. “This is your final warning. Yield now and your judgement shall be swift.” A mad cackle followed by more gunfire were his only replies. 

“Gotta move quick…this damned pew isn’t gonna hold ‘em off forever” he muttered to himself as he rolled behind the more solid protection of a stone pillar. Reaching for his pouch, he grabbed a flash grenade and tossed it towards the podium where his unseen assailants hid. 

“Crap…” he thought as three bodies jumped for cover from the brain banger. Keying the internal mic in his helm, he called for back up. “This is Maltorian. Send someone to the Shrine of the Ascending Emperor ASAP. I got a little bit of a problem here.” As if an afterthought, “And don’t send any of those gakkin’ recruits. I need real back up.”

Swinging his shotgun around the pillar, he opened up again, sending a hail of man stopper rounds into the first row of pews. “Alright you bastards, time to do this the hard way.” 

With a quick slide of his hand, he popped an executioner round into the chamber. “See how they like this little beauty.” 

Bracing himself against the massive recoil, he pulled the trigger and let fly. Standard rounds for arbites consisted of solid man stoppers and splatter shot (an affectionate term for the results of hitting someone with a load of buckshot at point blank range) but as he was a senior member of the constabulary, he had access to executioner rounds. While rare, they could track a target even in cover and now would be a damned good time to test it out. He was rewarded with a scream of pain as the round found it’s target and sent one of the killers slamming into the far wall.

“You still have a chance to surrender you gakk-brained morons. I’ve got two more of these little bastards and I’m not above sending you all to hell.” 

It was a bluff of course. While he had access to them, the rounds were still very uncommon and one was all he had been given. They, however, didn’t know this and he hoped the two survivors fell for his little ruse. His hopes were soon dashed as they opened fire yet again.

“Sod this..” he yelled as he slammed the microgrenade dispenser on his hip and was rewarded with a hand full of fragmentation grenades. “Property damage be damned” he muttered as he let fly with his deadly cargo. “Tell the God-Emperor hello for me you gakkin bastards.” Pulling back behind the cover of the pillar, he waited for the timers to ping zero and send them kicking and screaming into the afterlife.

The grenades went off all at once, more or less, turning the altar and the first three rows of pews into a shredded mess along with his suspects. Stepping from behind the column, Maltorian made his way carefully into smoky ruins left behind by his little presents. Of his assailants, nothing was left but several gooey red smears and tatters of clothing. Reaching down he pulled up a scrap of paper and looked it over.

“One hundred cred mark. Bastards been hitting sanctuaries for money.”

To be honest, the revelation that the series of crimes had been perpetrated only for monetary gain eased his mind. “Thank the God-Emperor it wasn’t a bloody ‘stealer cult or something worse” he thought to himself as he exited the small church. The sounds of sirens greeted him as he made his way to his assault bike and he sighed loudly.

“Figures the bastards would be late again….”


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## Mabrothrax (May 19, 2009)

Very nice, very evocative for a short piece. The last line reads alittle oddly, and some of the exposition in the opening paragraph feels a little clumsy, but it's a sound bit of action.

Feels like the begining of something bigger, especially with the casual remark about a genestealer cult. I could hear Maltorian resisting the urge to shout "I am the law!"

+rep!


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

Thanks bud! Yeah, this is an older piece. I look back on stuff I did a year or so ago and just shake my head and laugh. I am thinking about writing more stories featuring this arbite and some may follow what started here. Nothing like having your worst fears manifest just when you think everything's okay lol. I'm seriously thinking of going back and re-editing my older stuff. This might just be one of them. Hell..I might even turn it into a series lol!

Good luck and good gaming,

Nate


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## Kreach (Mar 25, 2009)

A shame it had to stop- and the last few sentances mirror what I have been working on. I say 'Original Works' needs more Arbite fiction and you need to be writing it!


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