Backwater Murders (Dark Heresy)(IC)

[Tom Foolery]

After being singled out and inducted into the service of the Inquisition, things have not quite gone as you had imagined them.

Removed from your past life, you have been tested and measured, questioned and interrogated. But aside from a few lectures given in darkened chambers that left you sick to your stomach and a seemingly endless stream of codes and ciphers given you to memorize and destroy, you have been left largely to your own devices.

Lodging under a false name in an anonymous habblock in Hive Sibellus, on Scintilla, the capitol planet of the Calixis Sector, you have bided your time for weeks waiting for the call from your masters, and perhaps, their verdict.At last that call has come and a blankeyed courier has delivered to you a note featuring the cipher of the Holy Ordos.

The message within was simple and perfunctory, containing a time, a date and a location. The instruction to come prepared and expect company is signed off with a single epithet—The Emperor Protects.

[Emperor Ing]

Members of the Cult Mechanicus aren't ones most suited to blending in. Even to the untrained eye it is easy to tell one Tech Priest from another. A lack of a mechadentrite here, a circuit bundle there, maybe a light for good measure, it doesn't matter. Though these crowds are nothing short of distressing. Nihilius is not used to being around this much machinery with such an enormous amount of people not only showing no respect for the machine spirits that sustain them, but not even giving the slightest sign of initiative to free themselves of their decaying biomatter cages.

Nihilius wishes he could do something, oh, he would love nothing more than to stand in front of the masses, preaching the wisdom of the Air Conditioner, the lore of the Cogitator, and the teachings of the Omnissiah.

Praise and glory to the Omnissiah!

Though the inquisitorial staff don't seem to take a liking to the truths of the Cult Mechanicus. The Inquisitor's bolt pistol has a story to tell. Nihilius would rather not risk it being used to kill the only one whom is willing to listen, simply because the clergy's words do not glorify the undying flesh that is in commune with the second-greatest machine in existance. The Tech Priest reasons that the hive worlders do not answer to him, they will answer to the Omnissiah.

All glory for the Omnissiah!

What is this? The cipher. So the Inquisition does appear to have need of Nihilius' talents. Very well. As the Tech Priest Nihilius makes his way towards the meeting place, he reasons that he is not the only one to recieve this message. He doubts he will be the only one there. Prehaps the...others may be more open-minded to the ways of the Cult Mechanicus.

((I use double parentheses for OOC text, and Dark Red is Nihilius' speech color.))

[DaedalusMkV]

Vasher is quite at home in the Scintillan hive; unsurprising given the fact that his old home is quite nearby. Indeed, he was born in the lower depths not far at all from where he sits, and he's spent countless hours in the Arbites Headquarters in this very Spire, so it's safe to say that the young Arbitrator is treading familiar ground. Nonetheless, though he may not have travelled far geographically to reach this point, in all other ways Vasher Nym has come a very long ways. He still marvels at the fact that, unlike so many others born in the slums of the Underhive he has been given a true chance to live a better life, to spend his days living in (relative) luxury and gloriously serving the Emperor. To become a member of His Right Hands, the foremost Servants entrusted with tasks that no others could ever hope to achieve... It is a heady feeling indeed.

Truly, the Inquisition has required little change from Vasher's normal habits. The cyphers and code-words have changed, as has the content of his readings, but in the end he will still be required to quietly pursue the enemies of the Emperor. He is reading through an old set of casefiles when the order arrives, and after reading it Vasher immediately leaps to action, collecting and checking his gear, carefully cleaning and loading his guns and quickly checking through the local news-slates for any new developments. Say what you will about Vasher Nym, but never say that he's unprepared... A life lived under constant threat of death will do that to a man.

When the time comes to leave for the appointed meeting, Vasher carefully stores his venerable Hecutor-MC11 Revolver in the shoulder holster under his Arbites uniform, shrugs on his Vest, clips his helmet to his belt and hefts his standard-issue Calixian-pattern Enforcer Shotgun. Come prepared, they say. Well, I had best oblige... As prepared as he will ever be, Vasher walks quickly to the specified location.


I claim Blue Text in the name of the Adeptus Arbites! Also, I do OOC in spoilers.

Are we going to have a seperate OOC thread? I find it's very useful for DH, especially since it gives us a very easy place to put our sheets.

[Destro_Yersul]

The Ghost had recieved a message, carried by a man with eyes as dead as his own. The Ghost stared into them, looking for the bottoms. He took the message, stared at in incomprehension. He had never learned to read, like so many others of his calling. There was no need to do so. HE recieved orders, and he followed them. The note contained orders. The Ghost made the courier read them to him once he knew where to go, he left the hovel he had been calling home. Little more than an empty drainpipe, it served his needs well enough.

Armed with his effects and his faith and his hidden unnatural power, The Ghost made his way towards the meeting place specified by the note. The others, he expected, would be expecting him. It made no matter. He was called Ghost for a reason.

Small and thin, drawn and pale, completely expressionless most of the time, the man had a forgettable face. With his collection of banded leather thrown over his black bodyglove, he looked like any other destitute. Nobody ever seemed to see him coming.

The Ghost liked it that way.

Spoilers for OOC ahoy! OOC threads are good in general, as Daedalus notes. Handy place to store character sheets, amongst other things.

[kirbsys]

The hive makes Tybalt uncomfortable. His precognitive connection to the warp allows him to see things that may be, or soon will be, making being around large crowds of people who all have so many different possible futures a nuisance if he lets down his mental barriers for even a second. He isolates himself as much as possible, avoiding attention. Even a sanctioned psyker is not welcome in most places.

Tybalt sits alone in his meager lodgings, waiting for a sign from his new master. As he waits, he reads; ancient tomes, ecclesiastical texts, trash novels from would-be writers within the hive, anything to keep his mind off of itself. He sees the boy come in before he ever opens the door, and shoos him out quickly. A cursory glance over the cipher tells him all that he needs to know. He packs his few possessions, throws up his hoods, and heads towards the meeting place, leaving himself time to spare.

[Zombiesomg]

The poorly lit room along with the swath of bodies blocking the low hanging lights made it hard to read the note. The shared dorm for the factory Hacon lived in was cramped and utterly filthy, thousands of workers lived in the complex in large rooms. The rooms were nothing more than rows and rows of bunks where the worker would sleep restlessly for 5, or 6 if they were lucky, and partaking in a meal before going for a 18 hour shift. The roof barely rose more than two meters, meaning the space between the first and second bunk was tiny, and between each row was less than half a meter. The people were literally caged in here, Hacon longed to run or move. But in this place being able to stand up and stretch without being pushed around or touching the ceiling would be a nice first step.

As soon as he finishes reading the note, which took a considerable amount of time considering his conditions, he stands up and starts forcing his way through the throng of people.

Hacon goes to his lockers and beholds his great hammer. He caresses the ornate icicle on the hammers cheek, for far to long has Hacon not seen it. Using both hands he hefts it up and bounces it in his hands a few times, feeling its familiar weight and shape in his grip before propping it against the locker door. Hacon then rummages through the bottom of the locker picking up his other equipment before finally leaving the factory compound to the location specified.

An OOC thread would be nice.

[Tom Foolery]

“At the appointed hour, you have made your way through the bustling faceless masses of the Administratum quarter to an unmarked service elevator platform set in the rear of a vast and imposing building covered in basreliefs of skulls, half draped urns and other symbols of death, crowned by an immense statue of a weeping saint.

It appears that you are expected; the wizened face of the platform’s inbuilt servitor studies you and pronounces “Pass” as you climb on board. As the note implied, you were not the only person called, and you make for an uncomfortable and diverse looking group standing in tense silence as the crowds throng by.

The servitor control chimes active as the last one of you boards the platform and the elevator descends as the hatchway closes above you all with a thunderous boom. The platform continues downward for some minutes through maintenance levels, deep into the bowels of the government district.”

Here's your ooc thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=194714).

[Emperor Ing]

Nihilius stands amidst the others. His theory was correct that there would be others. He speaks towards them. Greetings.

[Zombiesomg]

Hacon looks around the elevator, looking and inspecting each member. The group looks quite odd. Hacon knew he would be working with eccentric people but not this odd.

He takes a peculiar interest in Nihilius, staring at the bizarre mix of man and machine. Hacon doesn't respond with words but grunts in response to Nihilius, acknowledging and making himself heard.

[Destro_Yersul]

The Ghost looked at the techpriest sullenly, as if he didn't appreciate the break in the silence. "Hello," he said quietly, before going back to staring at the others.

"Assume we're to work together."

[kirbsys]

Tybalt introduces himself quietly, he has been rather timid since his sanctioning. He mentions neither his past, nor his abilities, just giving his name, and a feeble hand shake should anyone offer it.

[Zombiesomg]

Hacon takes Tybalts hand and shakes it firmly, "My name's Hacon. And I assume we're gonna be working together now, so I'd like to know all your names."

[Destro_Yersul]

"Got no name," The Ghost offers, looking down and adjusting one of the strips of leather that make up his crude armour. His lasgun, the precious one he had brought from his ship, by now battered and ancient looking, hung from his shoulder. It had been adjusted, since its initial construction, the barrel lengthened and a number of extra sighting components screwed onto the case. The Ghost swung it around and carefully turned a small dial set into the case.

"If you need to call me something, call me Ghost."

[Emperor Ing]

The tech adept turns his eyes, one of them a lens that juts out of a metallic eyeball, at Ghost, giving a nod of acknowledgement. His voice is still human, though plain and almost completely devoid of accent in addition to its metallic ring. You may call be Nihilius, Technographer of the Machine God. He turns his head to fully face Ghost, eyes scanning the battered lasgun. Treat the spirit of your lasgun with the respect it deserves and it will continue to serve in the days to come.

[DaedalusMkV]

Vasher takes a while to speak up. He's well used to dealing with the dregs of humanity, but he's expected a little more... Professional companions when he was drafted into the Inquisition, somehow. For the first few minutes he looks distinctly uncomfortable, standing stiffly in his immaculate Arbitrator uniform, as though he's uncomfortably reminded of a different time. However, when Tybalt offers his hand to shake the young Arbitrator shakes himself out of his reverie and offers his hand. "Of course, my appologies. I am Arbitrator Vasher Nym, stationed at..." He abruptly stops and blinks. "Well, nowhere, anymore. Nice to meet you all." Vasher's speech is slow and careful, a result of his deliberate effort to avoid letting the thick accent of his Hiver drawl slip through. When the Ghost reaches for his weapon Vasher flinches, his hand straying to the shotgun slung from his shoulder, before relaxing slightly when he simply adjusts the weapon and returns it to its place.

[Destro_Yersul]

The Ghost looked appraisingly at the techpriest once again, as he continued to carefully adjust the dial.

"This gun is my life," he told the techpriest. "It is hundreds of years old. Passed down to me. Without it, I am nothing."

He finished turning the dial and replaced the gun over his shoulder, subsiding into quiet once again.

[Emperor Ing]

The tech priest gives a contented look of approval at Ghost. You humble me, nameless one.

[Tom Foolery]

At the end of the elevator’s slow decent you are deposited at the end of a wide grey corridor, lit by pale lumen globes in the shape of cherubs holding torches. Only the first part of the corridor is lit and the rest trails off into darkness.

As you step off the platform more globes begin to illuminate to show you your path and, as you walk forward, more flicker into life before you, while those behind you extinguish. There is but one path, the corridor is featureless
and smells faintly of chemical disinfectant.

After about five minutes, the corridor ends in an armoured metal door, which unseals and unlocks with a hiss of pressurised air and opens with a loud grinding of heavy gears. The room inside has a jumble of dusty metal crates
(branded with unintelligible symbols) stacked against one wall, while a hospital gurney complete with restraint straps has been left toppled over on one side against the other.

The room’s most striking feature is a wide mirror which fills the upper half of the opposite wall from the entrance. The mirror will slowly clear to transparency to reveal a glittering steel chamber beyond. Inside the chamber looking out is a tall, thin faced figure wearing white medicae robes with a red leather coat draped over his shoulders.

Behind him, covered by a mottled grey sheet, is what looks like a body on some sort of frame raised upright for inspection. While above them in the air, a pair of white enamelled skulls, encrusted with a variety of brass instruments and long hypo needles, hover expectantly.

"Greetings Acolytes, I am Medicae-Interrogator Sand and you are the new blood, are you not? Worthy additions to our holy war? Well we shall see, far be it from me to doubt my betters’ judgement, eh?" The Sands says.

“Well to the matter at hand. I represent the Holy Ordos of the Imperial Inquisition that we all serve. Our masters have called you here to assist us in the investigation of a matter of interest that has recently and unexpectedly come to light."

“Oh, yes, for your information, you are now in the depths of the Templum Mori, the house of the dead where the Lords Prefecta Mortem hold court and the fallen and the lost of the great city are named and counted. It will not surprise you then to know you are here to view a corpse, I doubt it will be your first, but it is, shall we say, quite singular"

[Destro_Yersul]

"Not the first at all," the Ghost muttered, half hidden in the back of the group. He looked on at the room containing Interrogator Sand with detachment, no more emotionally invested in the prospect of seeing the corpse than he would be in learning the nutrition content of his morning ration-bar.

"But why the secrecy? What's so special about this one corpse?" He wondered aloud, raising his voice just a little from its characteristic quietness.

[DaedalusMkV]

As he steps out of the elevator, Vasher shakes himself a little and takes the lead, walking through the stark corridors towards whatever it is they're supposed to find. When he arrives at the observation room, for that is surely what it is, the Arbitrator watches expectantly as the mirror clears itself and he is able to see into the next room. When Sand introduces himself, Vasher salutes and listens carefully to the rest of the announcement. When the assignment is revealed, Vasher visibly relaxes. Seeing his companions, he had almost expected to be sent to battle some sort of Heretical cult... But this? Investigating crimes is what Vasher has spent most of his life doing, in one way or another. It may be difficult, but he's back on familiar ground now and that's enough for him. "Of course, Medicae-Interrogator. I'm no stranger to uncommon deaths, after all. You are preparing to examine the body now, I take it, and we are to watch?"

[Emperor Ing]

The one donned in the Mechanicus robes is distracted by the Interrogator's servo-skulls. It's not until mid-sentence that he snaps into attention as to what the interrogator is saying. Not satisfied with what he heard, he triggers an implant to replay Sand's previous sentence. It's crude but it works.

Is that a corpse behind him? Great. Machinae is Nihilius' niche. But he'll do what he can. Maybe it's a murder and Nihilius can identify the method and angle of execution. Maybe the machines saw something.

[kirbsys]

Tybalt keeps silent. Though he has talents, he is unsure quite how they will be helpful here. Still, he listens carefully, if he can be of service to the Empire, he will be.

[Zombiesomg]

Hacon observes quietly too, he didn't have much to add that hadn't been said and neither did he have much interest in further investigation. The body may be intriguing to look at, but was not his primary interest. Hacon wanted to hear what they were to do from the interrogator and quickly move onto doing exactly that.

[Tom Foolery]

After taking a moment to glare at everyone who interrupted his talk he returns to it. “Now if you will kindly attend and pay heed, I will take
questions afterward."

“The body has been positively identifi ed as that of one Saul Arbest, male, 23 years of age, hive worker, unskilled labourer certified. Formerly of the Tantalus Indenture, registered habitation: chamber 6/23 stack 717# Coscarla Division, southern zone, Hive Sibelius." He says as he scan through a datapad.

“Subject found dead on the midhive transit rail three days ago as the car returned to the main depot. Preliminary examination at the scene suggested death by drug overdose. Post mortem performed by the biologis forensic, however revealed certain anomies that necessitated our involvement."

“The cause of death was in fact total systemic failure brought on by tissue rejection of an implanted synthetic graft organ. Said organ destroyed his central nervous system while attempting to overcome the immune response.

“In short this…” he pauses for a moment as a servo moves into view.

The servo skull displays a sample jar containing a ten centimetre long whitish cord of waving glassy tendrils, still in motion, still alive.

“…crushed the life out of him from the inside."

“What’s it for? Unknown, but my opinion would be, in a word, ‘control’—neural and synaptic override, perhaps worse."

“There were other grafts and surgery of a less singular kind also; one lung replaced by a concealed storage cavity, possibly for his use as a courier. Also, one optic nerve removed, skin flayed from his stomach, I’ve no idea why. His system’s awash with alchemic traces, clotting agents, panimmune and the like. "

“The surgery was expert, but by the lesions and tissue stresses, I doubt any care was given to whether or not it was painless. In fact, by the damage to his vocal cords, my guess was that he probably screamed as long as he was able to."

“But this little monster is what concerns us. Oh, you don’t need to know the genelore or the Omnissian edict, just that this is not only illegal, it is forbidden, it is heresy. Merely tampering with this kind of dark tech is enough to warrant a death sentence from the Holy Ordos, the Arbites or the Mechanicus."

“And I’m sure that you, as well as I, am wondering how such a rare and vile thing ended up wrapped round the spine of some anonymous habprole from the dusty end of the stacks."

“The man has no prior criminal record, he was rendered invalid by indenture—laid off if you will, some sixty days ago now and was reported missing thirty two days ago by his sister, one Lili Arbest, resident of the same habstack. More than enough time to get himself into all sorts of trouble, I’m sure you’ll agree. These grafts are no more than eight or ten days old at most. We have nothing else on him."

“This is to be a shadow investigation, no open official involvement and no notification of the local authorities, and no one knows he’s here either. Coscarla’s down hive, so a covert approach will draw far less attention than a boot through the door, and be far less likely to kill any leads to our heretic."

“Find out why and where if you can, better yet, find out how. Best of all, find out who is responsible. Now.” He pause. "Do any of you have question?"

[Destro_Yersul]

"Not anymore," the Ghost muttered. His had been answered nicely by the Medicae's report. The only question now, of course, was what they would do from here. The Ghost knew he would be good at staying subtle, but looking at the Techpriest, and the Guardsman, he had some doubts about them.

[DaedalusMkV]

When Sand begins his summary of the situation Vasher reaches into the pocket of his uniform and pulls out a small pen and notebook, using it to take notes. He writes quickly and nods occasionally as the Medicae speaks. When Sand holds up the biological monstrousity, Vasher looks up and immediately recoils with a murmer of "Emperor forfend...", making the Sign of the Aquila. It takes him a few moments to regain his composure, then he continues taking his notes as Sand gives more details.

He responds almost immediately to the Medicae-Interrogator's call for questions. "Yes, several. First: Do we have any accounts of others on the railcar to establish his behavior prior to death? It would tell us a good deal about what degree of control this... Creature was capable of, and perhaps a bit about whoever did this. Second: Do we have a statement from the sister..." He flips back in his notebook again, then continues, "Lili. She reported the victim missing, so she may have important information. Third: Are you capable of estimating the type of equipment used to perform the graft? Even the most general information would help narrow down our suspect pool."

[Zombiesomg]

Hacon waits till the medicae is done his full report and after Vasher proposes his question. He asks another question soon after, "Do we know where to find this man's sister? I think she would be our best lead"

Hacon wonders what could of done this and feels a slight rush, a euphoria from the prospect of action. While foolhardy, anything that could finally allow him to be on the hunt again made him happy. However, the condition of his new compatriots worried him. There was a lack of any fundamental teamwork or communication required for this type of task and he was certainly not the person with the charisma or will to establish it.

[kirbsys]

Tybalt waits til he has answered the others' questions then opens his mouth for the first time since he left his room, "is this Xeno technology, or the product of Heretical mutations and surgery?" He sounds vaguely nervous, and keeps quiet, talking in a near whisper.

[Emperor Ing]

Nihilius grimaces at the sight of the machine. He whispers to himself. Soulless abomination. After the interrogator finishes his speech, the techpriest interjects. Yes. Why is that...thing permitted to live?

[Tom Foolery]

Sand's listens to the questions before replying. "First off Arbitrator Vasher, sadly, the train was empty when the corpse was found so there were no witnesses. Secondly his sister hasn't been interviewed yet. That is, of course, a part of the job your being sent to do. The information we have on her says she lives in the same habblock as the victim did. Lastly the equipment is of good quality but not great. Better then anything that section of the hive should have."

Sand pauses as he turns to regard the previously silent one. "As I said in my brief it is a tech heresy. There are no traces of xenos in this situation at all. Do try to pay better attention when you superiors are talking to you, boy."

Finally Sand looks to the tech priest. "While I share your distaste in it's continual survival but I believe there may be a means of finding it's origins with further study."

"Now then there will be a box of disguises and cover stories to your left when you leave this room. Take them and begin your investigation. The Emperor Protects. Dismissed"

The door out of the room opens again as the lights in the room begin to fade.

[DaedalusMkV]

Vasher salutes. "Yes, sir. We'll bring these heretics to the Emperor's justice." Then, he turns and leaves the room. When the others catch up with him, he'll begin talking. "I'm not sure how much you all know about murder investigations, but we've got to do our best with what we've been given. As Hacon has observed," as he says the Guardsman's name, Vasher nods to him, "Our best lead is the victim's sister. We do, however, have a few more leads to follow up on. First, the tools used to perform those... Abominations. We know that specialized, above average surgical tools would be needed to perform them. Tech-priest... Ah, you said to call you Technographer Nihilus?" Again, Vasher nods to the subject of his words, "I suspect you are more capable than the rest of us in finding out about these. Would you mind trying to find who might have such tools, or at least where they might be found? Second, we need to gather as much information as we can from the inhabitants of the victim's Hab. We should be able to do this after interviewing the sister. I'd also like to contact a few local underworld elements, but perhaps we should leave that for the moment." Vasher walks over to the box containing the disguises and picks one out that fits him fairly well, then begins stripping out of his Arbitrator uniform. "Do you all agree?"

[Zombiesomg]

Hacon nods quickly in acknowledgment. Vasher seems to have a good grasp on what was going on, much better than Hacon at least. Likewise, Hacon also follows Vashers lead and begins to search through the uniforms and profiles for something suitable for him.
As he is searching he begins to talk, "So how is this team going to work? We need to set up our base of operations for this investigation and then work from there. Time is probably key, especially in extracting information from the sister."

[Emperor Ing]

You may simply call me Nihileeus. Why does everybody neglect the third 'I' in his name? Something buzzes inside the man's hood, and Nihilius himself looks back at the abomitable machine. Circuit preserve us. And he looks back at the Arbitrator. If it is to be believed, the tools would be an uncommon good in this hive. What interests me is the...thing. He says in abhorrence. These techno-heretics have the ways and means to spawn that creature. I do feel it would be foolish to limit my search to simple chain-scalpels. Oh, and before I forget... Nihilius opens up the palm of his metallic hand, and something slides down from it. Although it cannot be seen by any of the others, a panel opened up to reveal the input of a built-in advanced dataslate that transmits data directly into Nihilius' brain. I do believe it would be in the best interests of the Omnissiah to share contact information. Possibly establish rendezvous in the future to share information, should it be deemed necessary that our separation diminishes suspicion. He glances over at the disguise pile. He finds the idea...amusing, if not a joke in poor taste. Whom among us finds the idea of a disguised techpriest humorous?

[Zombiesomg]

Hacon stares at Nihilius with a wild-eyed wonder, once again re-intrigued by the man-machine hybrid. "Is it actually in your skin and part of you?" He cautiously moves forward, even slightly squinting as he does.

[kirbsys]

Tybalt chuckles at the idea of the tech priest trying to disguise himself, then looks for something less conspicuous than the psyker's robes that he is wearing right now. After changing into somewhat normal clothes, Tybalt grabs identification, and whatever other back story pieces there are. I agree, we should speak with the sister. If Nihilius is to look into the tech tools, I'll volunteer to accompany him. It may be useful to have someone less... conspicuous.

[Destro_Yersul]

The Ghost shrugged, picking out a few items of simple clothing he could toss on over the black bodtglove. It was hard to imagine disguising the Ghost, though not because of implantation, or the like. He just looked... normal. The sort of person who could blend in anywhere.

"Should stick together," he told them. "Safety in numbers, long as you can trust them. If we must split up, I'm going with the arbitrator."

[Emperor Ing]

Nihilius looks at the hulking guardsmen, the metal panel sliding back onto his palm. They are not a part of me, they are me. They bring compatibility between me and the Machine God. A compatibility which shall grow in the march of time. The buzzing sound comes out of Nihilius' hood again. For now our objectives coincide. I welcome your company, other nameless one. The techpriest then makes his way over to the disguise pile to look over the cover stories.

[kirbsys]

Tybalt suddenly realizes that in his silence, he has forgotten to introduce himself to those he is working with. He says, You may call me Tybalt. I am an... Imperial Psyker. It is difficult for him to get out the title, partly because he is still getting used to applying the term to himself, but also because it brings back memories of Holy Terra, and such things are better left forgotten.

[Emperor Ing]

The techpriest shuffles through the cover stories while Tybalt introduces himself. Psyker. Nihilius turns his head to face him. Insufficient data. What is that?