The streets of Gustanov were often littered with debris from both the passage of time and its inhabitants, which consisted of many species within Sector Mercatura. Classified as a Hive World by Imperial standards, it had long built its reputation as the travel hub where the Resonance paths converged. The discovery of Resonance paths allowed near‑instantaneous travel around specific nodes within the Sector, much to the delight of short‑lifespan species who could not endure year‑long voyages across the cosmos.
A lone figure emerged from Resonance Gate XO‑1335. He swung a brown sack over his shoulder, stepped off the platform onto the streets, took a left turn, and marched on with purposeful strides. He had an appointment to catch.
The Ork was dressed in full leather. A cap covered his bald head, exposing his lower jaws. An Ork roaming about the Sector would hardly raise any eyebrows, but very few Orks were as presentable as this one. Most simply walked around looking and smelling like rotten carcasses.
The street he was on was particularly deserted at this hour. A lone stall had its owner distracted with a holo‑projector strapped to his head, while a nearby feline crept ever closer to the displayed merchandise. A display of sizzling meats of unknown origin spanned the entire stall, emitting a foul odour.
The figure marched on without breaking stride. Orks, after all, do not have a keen sense of smell. The same, however, did not apply to other unfortunate souls within breathing distance of one. It was equally unfortunate that Orks didn’t care.
The Ork took another junction and descended to the lower streets. Here, the pedestrian density grew, and music and light displays were more profound. Sized well above the crowd average, he had little trouble navigating as the crowd parted before him, scattered by the sheer intimidation of his size (or smell).
A drone from the Tau Empire buzzed closer but hurriedly whimpered away after the Ork flashed a murderous grin at its camera. A few League of Votann Pioneers made a dramatic show of loudly complaining about the smell and putting their helmets on. A nearby Blood Raven Intercessor guarded a stationary Rhino in the middle of a hurried paint job. Remnants of blue and a white “U” symbol were still present, betraying the Rhino’s original Chapter colours.
The Ork quickened his pace. His destination was close. At last, he stepped off the street into a tavern. The doors creaked open, and the human operators greeted him. Almost immediately, the indoor air purifiers hummed loudly, sensing a new source of biological contamination.
The tavern Existential Crisis was on the smaller side of a typical meal shack. Its owners had jokingly said that the name came from their experience dealing with bureaucrats during the startup. A marvel of human technology – and perhaps the main selling point of this particular tavern – might just be its air purifiers. No other taverns nearby were as inviting for multiple species with different biological excretions. It even hosted a gigantic toilet complex consisting of 23 different layouts and flushing methods.
The Ork spotted his companions at a table at the far left of the hall. A human looked up and frantically waved. A second hooded figure remained indifferent while sipping from a crystal glass.
Grimskarg grinned. For once, he was right on time.