RT - Whispers on the Storm IC

[Hemnon]

You have just completed a transition from the warp back
into real space and the bridge teems with activity as servitors
and specialists calibrate sensors and run intricate system checks.
Suddenly, the air is rent with the shrieking of alarms and the
vista-panels burst to life with images of the near void. Looming
out of the darkness, the hard shape of an Imperial Lunar Class
cruiser materialises, its armoured prow pointed at your ship as it
glides across the dark on an intercept course. Even as the vessel
moves closer, your vox crackles to life and an authoritative voice
booms across the bridge, ‘'This is the Imperial Navy vessel Hand of Redemption; stand to and prepare to be boarded!’'

The Lunar class cruiser is one giant beast of a ship, out-gunning yours by more than enough turrets, macro batteries and lancers. warning runes flash across all boards on the bridge, alerting crew and captain that the Cruiser have a target solution on your ship, so going against their demands would be highly dangerous.

one of the officers on the bridge (a fairly young woman) then calls out:
''My lady-captain, a small void vessel is on intercept course, demanding us to allow them docking, shall i grant them their wish or deny access?''

YOu guys can introduce character and evaulate the situation and act whatever way you see fit.

[Kalmageddon]

Duncan briefly sums up in his head the nature of the cargo the ship is carrying, trying to remember for anything that the Imperial Navy might be after.
Meanwhile he adresses his captain:
"It would be rude to deny access to such polite and well-armed guests, my lady captain... Shall I move to welcome them?"
He smiles with a hint of irony and waits for instructions.

[Whiskeyjack]

Pran Chole looks up from the gunnery panels, straightening to his full height with a soft chirp and flexing his clawed hands as he looks down--literally--on the other bridge officers. "Clever of them, catching us right out of transit! They were waiting...for us, or for anyone to pass here. Much like the Killing..." he squawks harshly, cutting off his speech with a clack of his beak. "No matter. Your orders, Captain? They shall not expect my kin waiting for them in the docking bay, if you like."

[Baveboi]

It's with the jet black nothingness of his eyes that Baristan look at Duncan Gloriath and the xeno, emotions dancing in his face as he speaks to the Lady Captain. "I am sorry, my Ladyship," he bows profusely, "but as one of the Astropaths in Her Ladyship's service I would advise against crossing the Navy at this point." The Spook's voice is sharp like glass and quite a deal unsettling, but he always spoke with zealotry conviction and a sanity rarely found amongst his kin. Heck, even amongst the pious. "If the situation cannot be averted..." he now turns to *face* the huge xeno. "Then I would like to accompany our reception crew. Someone such as *I* can be an invaluable asset when... dealing with people, your Ladyship." As a finishing touch, he portrays a smile that almost perfectly mimics that of Duncan.

[ChaoticSky]

Captain Aria Avorn sat on the command throne with her legs pulled up and crossed, a woman of short black hair and bright sapphire blue eyes, she slouched to one side, her elbow on the arms rest and her chin in her hand. Heavy combat boots stood at the throne's foot, abandoned when shed pulled her legs up, she wore loose, black, silk clothing with silver highlights, that seemed designed to accommodate, rather than simply be 'worn under' the finely wrought plates of a suit of carapace armour, which was also black and detailed with silver. Over this, she wore a massive greatcoat, that if she stood, would have reached to her ankles, instead of to her knees, and only near subconscious positioning of her hands kept the cuffs from falling past them, while, clearly having been cut for someone broader, it hung loose about her frame. For those lacking a sense of pattern recognition; entire ensemble was also black, with lots of silver detailing, it also possesed the Avorn Dynasty crest, writ large on its back; a Silver ring, thread-thin on the top and thick on the bottom like a partially occluded moon, with a winged 'I' in the center. The same symbol was etiched into the command throne above her head, the breast of her outfit, and onto the flanks of the ship it self. Though Aria stood at 6' tall, the coat made her look not unlike a little girl who had climbed into a parents jacket, but few who underestimated the capable Rogue Trader based on her appearance lasted long. On her head sat her hat, a old but well preserved black leather tricorn, with a silvery feather jutting from the band, it fit her well, and lent her a roguish air. Her weapon harness lay in a tangle of black leather beside the throne, her sword, and the actuator that held her Lascannon, to say nothing of the cannon its self, were visible through the mess. The Lascannon was the single most powerful weapon on the ship, and the sole exception to the ship wide ban on highly penetrative heavy weapons.

She scowled as the transmission was relayed to her, her good mood at having left the warp swiftly evaporating, Throne knows, ferrying a gaggle of missionaries to Footfall was far from the most interesting of activities. She mulled it over for a moment, then responded, first to her allies, then to the vox officer. “Oh dont worry about them, I've done nothing they can object to and they know it, the Navy is just being pushy as usual. Hopefully, there will not be a need for your kin Pran, yet. Now... send a reply, *ahem* ' This is Captain Avorn of the Rogue Trader vessel Silverknife, I was not aware that His Most Holy Imperial Navy engaged in piracy. As the holder of a Warrant of Trade and duly appointed servant of the Adeptus Terra and Him on Earth, I am not subject to the authority of errant Navy captains. So either be polite, present orders signed by someone with the proper authority, or leave us be. Else the Adeptus Arbites will hear about this, and may Imperial Justice account in all balance. Furthermore, while I cannot speak for the Ecclesiarchy... certain elements of that august body will be very interested in how I was waylaid upon my return from spreading the Emperor's word to the fringes I'm sure.”
With that said, she pressed a activation rune on her command throne, activating the ships jammer system, emitters all over the hull blasting exotic radiation into the void, blinding the cruisers augers with a effect very similar to shining a floodlight in a persons face. It wouldnt hurt their communications or systems in anyway, just stop them from scrying the Silverknife with their augers.

While she awaited the Navy's response she drawled laconically “I'm a captain first and a lady second, so lets stick with just 'Captain' shall we? Please?”

[Hemnon]

Over the Vox you can all hear the response from the Void cutter closing in on your ship.

''This is Ensign Dyna Flen, junior officer on the Hand of Redemption, I appologise for the harsh and rather uncivilized demand. I would like to request a meeting with your most honourable and fair captain, Aria Avorn onboard your ship. This request is of outmost importance and my orders are to not take no for an answer. emperor bless you.'' She sounds very courteous and professional, a pride of the navy.

[Maddness]

Nathrin sat at the Helmsman's station, his heartbeat slowing after the collision klaxon sounded. The voidman had feared that he had piloted them right into a Kepler asteroid moments before, now he stared daggers through the screens at the Cruiser that had 'ambushed' them.
"I do not like this Captian." He said, looking over his shoulder, "It seems too convenient for a Navel cruiser to be waiting for us as we translate back into realspace."

[mrzigzag]

Sabastion Yorke strides onto the deck, each step accentuated by the loud clack of his staff-like Ecclesiarchal standard, fuming over what he has heard so far in his microbead.
"Indeed my Captain, the Missionaria Galaxia will hear of this outrage, as if any Navy vessel has authority to put on hold the spreading of His Word! However, the Helmsman has a point, I fear this may be above Navel concerns, they were waiting on us specifically, and that rarely bodes well."

[ChaoticSky]

Aria smiled, and looked around the bridge “See? Boarders, no. Guest, yes. The Navy is all hot air when it comes to Rogue Traders anyway. You cant let them push you around, we do have a reputation to maintain. Now, to the shuttle; 'Much better, you may come aboard Ensign.' and cut. Now, somebody turn on the lights on the docking port so they can find it, because I'm not turning the Jammer off. As you say, there is something going on here, and I intend to get to the bottom of it. Lets talk to this ensign first however, I would rather not get in a fight with a Cruiser.”

While she spoke, she climbed out of her throne and slipped her feet back into her boots, shrugging out of her coat for a moment, she collected her weapon harness, strapping it on around her torso, leaving her sword on her left hip, and her lascannon on her back, the model was somewhat thinner but longer than most, with three separate chargepacks standing out long the side of the weapon, the armature it was attached to was coiled up in a S-shape against her back, leaving the handle above her shoulder, where she could easily draw it out under her arm for firing. Properly armed, she slipped her coat back on, which did Very little to hide the lascannon, nor would it have impeded her getting at it in a fight.

Properly fitted, she fixed her hat, and set off for the docking port, leading the crew members there.

[Kalmageddon]

Pleased by the turn of events Duncan fixes his robe and follows the captain and the crew.
Wearing no armor and only an archaic looking lasgun inside the holster hanging from his large and decorated belt he doesn't seem to consider violence as a possible outcome of the situation.
Getting at the side of Pran Chole he whispers
"It would make things easier if you could avoid eye contact with our guests, consider it a way to lead the prey in a false sense of security. They will have an easier time accepting the presence of a xeno if he shows a healthy fear of them, even when indeed he feels none."
He then moves to Nathrin and asks
"You have been crossing the void for far longer then I, do you know the Hand of Redemption and its crew, even only by its fame?"

[Maddness]

Nathin had gestured the crew to activate the running lights for the docking bay, then followed the group down the corridor.
"No, I have not met them in person, and as for their reputation, well, we'll see..."

[Hemnon]

As you reaches the shuttle bay, a young pretty woman in naval outfit with an armed escort of 20 men behind her. their shotguns are at attention and ornate shockmauls at their sides.

as soon as Ensign Flen sees the aproaching rogue trader and her company, she quickly Salutes (her entire escort mirrors the action almost totally syncronized).

''Ma'am, I'm ensign Flen, Junior officer of the hand of redemption. I request a private audience with you, and your advisors if you need them there, as soon as possible, to discuss the urgent matter i reported about over the vox link.'' Her voice is flowing and proffessional with much care to not speak out of terms.

[Whiskeyjack]

Pran Chole stands still behind the Captain, his height dwarfing the room even as he slumps somewhat. Clad in rough-stitched dark leathers, his skin a mottled grey-green-brown and heavily muscled, the kroot tastes the air quietly, his ruff rustling slightly as his hackles stand and relax He makes few slight hiss-clicks as he sees the Naval entourage, looking at them from peripheral vision only.

[Baveboi]

Such a common man for a Psyker, Baristan was hardly noticed at all whenever he wasn't calling attention to himself. Built like a large and robust individual his over-clothing did nothing to reduce that image, empowered by the flak armor he insists in adorning at all times. Just to convince him to not walk around in his void suit is a hard endeavor. Nonetheless he picks up a steady pace following after the crew leaving behind Insignia Astronomicana with the other Astropaths, all unarmed and scared of this sudden turn of events. Running down the corridor he adjusted the weapon's belt which carried two state-of-art laspistols and a mono-sword that would more often be found in the hands of Sergeant ranked Guardsmen in some regiments. All three of them were readied in case diplomacy didn't go as intended.

Once they arrive he doesn't approach the others, staying some steps behind to not call much attention to his hollowed eyes or what he is about to do. With a quick jerk of his neck the psyker attunes his mind to reach out and listen to the warp around him. Baristan searches for any psychic alteration that might be in play with our boarding, a link to their bridge or a psychic disguise...
[roll0] of Psyscience against 43 Perception.Even though he catches no sign of dealings with the Immaterium doesn't mean they don't posses the such, so Baristan will refrain from using his own even to contact the bridge or the Captain.

[mrzigzag]

Missionary Yorke, a rather large-framed man compared to the average confessor or chanter, while walking to meet the Navy envoy adjusts his guard-issue flamer strapped on his back so that his standard will fit in it's sheath there as well, it's icon displaying a couple feet over his head. His majestically sculpted red and white flak armor, a gift from the Missionaria Galaxia, is worn under his Ecclesiarchy robes, though his helmet is in his quarters. He adjusts his chainsword in his crowded belt lined with religious and medical equipment so that it is easier to get to, a fine silver-coated and engraved model taken from a dead PDF captain in an Orkish melee. Though leaving the safety on, he activates his plasma pistol in his holster, feeling a gentle warmth against his hip as the canister subtly breaths life into the ancient device. It was once worshipped as a god by the ignorant inhabitants of a long forgotten death world beyond the Divine Light of the Astronomicon, entirely understandable considering what it can do to a man.

While walking to meet the rather imposing guests, Sebastion prepares a brew of incense suitable for meeting guests of proper rank in his censor and lights it, swinging it gently back-and-forth as he follows his Captain.

[Kalmageddon]

As master of cerimonies, the rushed pace of the formalities makes Duncan aware that, if his captain is willing, he could certanly bargain a good deal out of whatever the Navy wants from her person and her ship. Urgency makes the needy willing to pay any price to obtain what they require.

Seeing how the captain is dealing with the situation in first person, however, Duncan stands quietly at her side and takes time to study the young navy officer, looking for subtle hints about her and potential signs of weakness.
[roll0] Awareness? I'm particularly looking for clues like decorations and honours, nervous habits and general body language

[ChaoticSky]

Aria waved dismissively over her shoulder, clearly hearing the seneschals soft words, “Now now Duncan, what do you think I'm paying him for? Pran you are look as scary as possible and make disconcerting eye contact with as many of them as possible. After all he is properly Sanctioned, and we have all the appropriate documentation to prove it, additionally, my Warrant explicitly allows me to deal with Xenos as I see fit. So on my ship if the navy doesnt like him they are welcome to take a long walk out the nearest airlock. Keeping them wrongfooted will work to our advantage anyway...” she had been about to say more when the scent of incense wafted across her nose and she smiled, vaguely noglastic as she nodded to him, “Thank you, Yorke.”

On arriving in the shuttle bay she eyed the twenty men languidly, one eyebrow raised “Quite the delegation. March them right back into the shuttle and we can talk. I have no secrets from my companions so you can speak freely here.” she tapped the vox bead in her ear and spoke quietly into it for a moment, before smiling reassuringly. If Flen protested, then Aria would reply with a shrug, “My ship, my warrant, my rules. Fear not, Ensign, your honour is safe with me.” she declared with a touch of gallantry, even sweeping a little bow.

@Kalmageddon
"Duncan, if you could, please summon someone to bring us some chairs, nice ones, and refreshments, Wine."

((Feel free to have some fun describing that, remember, I'm silly rich, so they should be quite lavish! Other than mine, since Avorns preferr austerity, so something simple and silvery/black for me))

[Whiskeyjack]

Pran Chole sweeps his gaze fully upon the humans. He straightens slightly, peering down. Assessing. Analyzing. Gauging their reaction to his presence, their murmured invocation of their indoctrination of xenophobic hatred. And especially looking for ones who look at him with curiosity or sympathy. Slight clicks as his clawed feet touch the hard metal floor. And then an inhuman chirp-hiss.

Awareness vs TN 48: [roll0]

[Hemnon]

The ensign seems to be ignoring the request to dismiss her escort.
''I can't do that Ma'am, I'm her to request that you come with me onboard the hand of the redemption to talk with my captain, i do not wish for this to get out of hand in any way, so please do as i ask.'' This is not a demand it's a request without any reasonable alternative. her escort remains stationary in a nonthreatning way.

Baveboi
you don't sense any iregularity in the warp around the naval escort or the ensign.

Kalmageddon
The naval junior officer shows an air of proffessionalism and an unexpected calm, even though there is an alien in line of sight.

Whiskeyjack
You can first smell it, then see it. they are all nervous being near you, even the ensign have the odor of fear. though you sense no immidiate hostility, their glances at you are not the friendly kinds.

[Kalmageddon]

Hearing the request Duncan nods with a plesant smile "Of course captain"
He then steps breifly away from the group and dispatches some servants to fetch all that is needed to provide comfort for the negotiations that are about to happen.

They quickly come back bringing decorated chairs made from the rarest woods and hides in the Imperium, for Aria a simple but well crafted high-backed chair covered in the dark fur of some kind of exotic beast, togheter with a low table, several handcrafted glasses, a pitcher and a few bottles.
Duncan himself proceeds to show the bottle to the guest "This is a bottle of Amasec from the finest vineyards in the Imperium, it's more then 200 years old, but it has been preserved at the apex of its flavour by stasis fields." He then opens the bottle and pours the content inside the pitcher to let it breathe, the tempting aroma spreading in the air. Once the beverage has been properly handled for consumption he serves the guests and the crew in the correct order prescribed by the etiquette.

[Is this lavish enough? :smalltongue: Edit: the amasec is apparently distilled "from wine", which doesn't make any sense, but I hope it suits fine. It think it's just ignorance about wines from the writers, you can't distill anything from wine, at best you can distill from what's left of the wine processing and make grappa (yeah it's sort of my job irl)]

[ChaoticSky]

Aria's expression darkened, a polite ultimatum is still a ultimatum, “Ah, so were back to the acts of piracy. This is what comes of being polite I guess, I offer my hospitality and get a few dozen armed goons for my trouble. I do hope you realize that the Navy is not above Imperial law, and regardless of the outcome of this meeting, there will be repercussions.” It was around that point that the servants returned with chairs and refreshments, and Aria sighed, waving them all away, “Sorry Duncan, seems our guests have other ideas. Some people have no appreciation for social graces.” Though she did claim the bottle of wine, pulling the cork with her teeth, and took a swig. The Rogue Trader made a pleased little sound and held it up to examine the label “A excellent choice Ducan, a very fine vintage. Alas.” and with that she very carefully poured the contents of the bottle over Flen's head.

Once the contents of the bottle had transferred themselves to the Ensign, Aria tossed it away to shatter somewhere on the metal decking, and smiled “Well! I certainly feel better. Lets go, I have some very choice words for your Captain. Come along gentlemen.” And with a wave for her retinue to follow, she walked past Flen and into the shuttle.

[Hemnon]

Ensign Flen just stands there, taking the harassment with just a slightly twitching eyebrow. At Aria's indication that she's ready to go with her, Ensign flen indiactes with her hand for the rogue trader to enter the voidcutter.

''If you're finished, then enter so we can get going... or do you need to gather something first? any missing advisors? oh and i cannot allow the xeno to join us.'' Her voice is composed but slightly vibrating with controlled anger.

If everyone is quite done pouring wine over the poor petite junior officer, shall we get onto the voidcutter and get on with it?:smallbiggrin:

[Whiskeyjack]

Pran Chole merely observes the display quietly, moving when the Captain does. Such shows of dominance might be commonplace among humans and Orks, but rare among Kroot and Tau, given their hierarchical family structure and meritocracy, respectively.

He merely peers at the Ensign, registering the change in her smell as the drink is poured over her, registering the tang of sweat filling the air in the seconds following as her entourage grows angry or tense, as violence could break out at any moment. And then relief, when the Ensign resigns herself to the abuse. Another dominance fight resolved.

As her voice changes to mention him, Pran Chole merely tilts his head and looks at her, beak clicking softly and rhythmically.

[Maddness]

Nathin had smiled as the Captain showed her displeasure at the demand from the Ensign, but still he was uneasy, something just didn't sit right with him.

"Captain." He said, sidling over from the back of the group whilst trying to hide the conspicuous smile, "Might it be prudent to have me remain aboard, just to keep an 'eye' on the bridge for you." He spoke quietly, to avoid it looking like an interruption. However, Nathin allowed the Subtext to speak volumes as to why the Captain may want her senior bridge officer, ready at the helm, especially if things got dicey.

[mrzigzag]

Sebastion let's out a light chuckle, both at Aria's actions and Duncan's dismay.
"That stuff dulls the mind anyway, Duncan, one needs to be alert in such a dangerous universe," he says as he draws and lights a lho-stick.

He follows as Aria strides off leaving the soaked ensign behind, fastening the still-burning censor to his side to free up his hands should Flen or her guard retaliate violently and a weapon needs to be brought to bear. 20 men packed in a voidship corridor... he thought he could get most of them with one burst and the ones he didn't would have a wall of burning allies to deal with, but they already had arms drawn and the priest was simply not that fast, and not 20-shotgun tough either.

Yorke didn't like the way this was playing out, but followed his Captain nonetheless, his primary comfort being that if they wanted them dead, they would have been by now.

[Baveboi]

I can smell their uneasiness Baristan thinks to himself. If there was a kin that couldn't be easily fooled it was the psyker, but he didn't smell no lie or tampering with the warp so for a while he observed. It was a surprise, but not a shock, when Aria Avorn poured the opulent Amasec down the junior officer's head. With a smirk, Baristan send his thoughts to the rest of the crew in a radius of an impressive one killometer! Everyone can hear his thought-spoken words clear as day. Of coursing, present guests excluded. All, listen! Our benevolent Captain just poured a 10 thousand credits bottle of the best Amasec down the commander officer Ensign Flen's head. She should feel honored! That's the only time she will ever touch such a refined drink!

To all strange and horrified looks he will undoubtedly receive, he will smile slightly and shrug his shoulders. People often don't like him getting into their heads without strict need, but small victories should be recorded.

I will wait to see everyone's reaction to post a response to my actions. :smalltongue:

Also, whoever doesn't share a tongue with me (low Gothic, high Gothic) gives me a -20 on any opposed will power test to block my thought sending. Otherwise this is a free action, just like speaking, that doesn't require focus nor causes phenomena. Since I was a bit short-sighted, so I will not roll the test, and whoever wants to block me out of their heads is free to do so, even if they are going to lose such a nice story!

[Kalmageddon]

"That she certanly did..." Duncan said, trying really hard not to laugh.
"So then, shall I take a bottle of Theosophist Philtre with us just in case you want to offer something stronger later, Captain?".

[Whiskeyjack]

Pran CHole lets out a sharp hiss and turns to glare at the psyker. Shaking his ruff, he turns his attention back to the Navy armsmen.

[ChaoticSky]

Aria stopped as she was about to step past the Ensign and arched a eyebrow, in response she produced a silver scroll tube from some pocket along the inside of her coat, unscrewed one end, and held them out for her to see, naturally, she didnt let the wine soaked girl touch the valuable papes. “Pran here is a fully Sanctioned xenos, and a xeno hunter par excellence. Whatever your captain wants to discuss, if theres any chance of nonhumans being involved, his input could be invaluable, hes also quite safe, unless I order otherwise. But go ahead,” She waved magnanimously, “Contact your captain and see if he takes issue with duly sanctioned xenos, I'll be waiting.”

[Hemnon]

A sign of shock is apparant on Ensign Flen's face, but she quickly repress it with a mask of calmness and stoicness.

''If it truely is sanctioned, then i have no objections, my captain surely will agree as well. Though i have to say that if your xenopet stray away from your most honourable ma'am rogue trader, then we will have no other choice than having it shot on sight. That is what a sanctioning contract says if i do so remember correctly.'' her voice is composed and she starts to walk towards the shuttle, taking the hankercief given to her by a crewman inside the voidcutter, which she uses to dry off the wine from her hair, face and uniform.

[Baveboi]

The Psyker, now completely amused to himself, walks behind the Captain like the very obedient servant he ought to be. Everyone's reaction was just as priceless as he thought they'd be, specially the xeno. During their short time together faring the stars Baristan hardly had a chance to talk or deal with the Kroot Mercenary, attending diligently to the position of Astropath ever since the Silverknife's previous Astropath Transcendent *burned out*. When the young Astropaths requested for aid in Astral Telepathy Baristan Remi lucked out to be nearest of their current position and needing a ride. He never imagined that the choir service under a Rogue Trader would be full of rewarding moments and individuals.

[ChaoticSky]

Aria returned the papers to their tube and sequestered it once more within her coat, before making her way to the shuttle "Yes, yes, 'keep it on a leash' and so on and so forth, I've heard it a thousand times, now, unless you also have some issue with shoe size, or perhaps the cut of my pants, well be moving on, Your captain is just going to love hearing about all the time youve been wasting. Attempt two! Come along gentlemen."

And this time, she kept going, if the tart had another other protests she could level them within the shuttle, preferrably on the way to the Navy vessel.

[Whiskeyjack]

Pran Chole follows the captain, sniffing slightly at the dripping ensign and en again at the hath of the shuttle. With an irritated chirp, he ducks to fit inside the door of the craft and crouches near the captain until it's time to buckle in.

[Hemnon]

The Flight toward the Hand of Redemption goes very quiet. you had all kind of expected to be briefed, however shortly that would be, but what you all get handed is silence, except for the required vox-chatting and orders given.
you all now have a chance to talk with/Inquire infomation from the ensign, if you so desire. the trip will take about 15 minutes at full engine thrust.

[Kalmageddon]

Duncan starts playing a simple relaxing melody with his lute.
Since the ensign has insisted so much that we meet her captain she would probably refuse to give more details about what the navy requires, plus the way she was treated just a few minutes ago probably hasn't put her in a chatty mood.

[Maddness]

The silence was frosty in the shuttle, even as Duncan played his lute. Nathrin had somehow managed to be positioned between the Navel officers and His captains retinue, possibly because of his Great-Grandfathers Navel Jacket masking him as less of a threat.

The ensign was sitting at the other end of the Shuttle, still wiping the remnants of the Amasec from the brass of Her uniform. "So Ensign, it was certainly surprising to see the Navy out here." He lent back in the seat, "I'm sure I've heard the Hand or Redemption's name mentioned before, although the reason escapes me. Could you enlighten us?"

[Hemnon]

Ensign Flen looks at the naval-dressed man and answers with a flat and direct tone: ''My captain will answer your questions once you are onboard.''

besides from that she says nothing else.
the ensign seems unwilling to share any infamation at all with any of you. you'd need to make an inquiry or charm test if you want to squeese out any info from her.

[Hemnon]

As the voidcutter aproaches the Hand of Redemption, you all realize the true size of the imperial cruiser, dwarfing your own ship easily. The pure amount of armaments on it is breathtaking, as is the armored prow, shaped to resemble a mighty hammer.

The docking happens relatively quick and without any incidents. Quickly and efficiently, you are all transported into the ship. Ensign Flen is in total silence and the armed guard around you all, gives off the feeling that you really shouldn't try anything funny.

The farther you reach into the ship, the more ornate the walls become, gargoyles hanging on the walls and small high gothic text is carved into the almost all of the surfaces on the wall.

As you finally reach your destination, you are all able to see that this must be the captain's own mess hall. For a few minutes you wait there, in the empty mess hall, and then from another door, presumably the captain and a number of high-ranked officers, walk into the mess hall as well.

Captain Keel: ''Ah, Wellcome onboard to all of you, It's an honor to finally meet you, Miss Avorn, and of course, wellcome to your crewmembers as well''

The captain insists on introducing you all to the different officers and then you all sit down to start the meal. While eating he insists on making pleasantries, and he does so with great efficiency.

Alright here it is, the opposed Check of pleseantness!

if you win this opposed test, then you'll get the upperhand with Keel. You may all either use Willpower or Fellowship and anyone with Carouse or charm may make a Difficult (-10) check to gain +5 to the opposed roll.

Gaining the upper hand on Keel will result in a +10 bonus to all skill tests, made to influence him.

Keels willpower roll: WP 48 vs [roll0]

[Kalmageddon]

Duncan puts his social skills to good use, doing his best to give the Commanding officer a good impression of the crew regardless of the previous "incident" with the Ensign.

Difficult check in Charm to gain the +5: [roll0] on 52 (52 +10 noble born -10 difficult check).
Opposed Fellowship check: [roll1] on 62 or 67 if I get to have the +5 because of the previous check

[Whiskeyjack]

Pran Chole inclines his head politely (but also slightly predatorily) at each crew member he meets. At the meal, he attempts to eat with a mimicry of human decorum for a short time, but eventually grows frustrated and delicately begins to tear the foot apart with fingers and beak.

[Maddness]

Nathin is confused at how suddenly the parties situation had changed from armed escort to dinner engagement. He sat close to thew captain, but only ate a little, concentrating instead on the officers around them and resisting any impulse be swayed by the Captains charming manner.

Testing Willpower (as my Fel sucks): [roll0], Base WP is 47, no bonuses or benefits as far as I know.

SO passed, but only bu 2 degrees,so poss not the best impression.

[ChaoticSky]

Aria smiled cordially and inclined her head to the captain before taking her seat, "My honour as well Mr. Keel, I must say, I've had less pleasant abductions. But I admit to great curiosity as to why you would go through all this trouble to mug me with dinner. Given your reputation, I cannot imagine this is a attempt to woo me, humble soul that I am, which leaves the obvious question of Why?" she asked dryly, taking a drink


Charm Roll for bonus (target 40-10 = 30)
[roll0]

And Fell to Keels WP, +5 if the above was a win
[roll1]

[Baveboi]

Never being the individual to make conversation outside of his area, the psyker stood behind. He looked around, toyed with his glass and silently admired the place's decoration, but no sound was heard of his lips. His eyes dangle around the room a little.

Let me not try and make rolls for now. I shouldn't be intervening here. I will, however, look around for other Psykers of my geno, specifically.

[roll0] against 43 Per. If needed to be Psiciense test, then so be it. Same ability.
[roll1] against 43 Per, hoping it doesn't come to this, but I will not let another psyker get in this party without being invited. Specially when I am around.

[Hemnon]

Everyone

Duncan: Gains +10 when interacting with Cpt. Keel.
Nathin: Does not gain the bonus.
Aria: Does not gain the bonus.
Baristan: Does not gain the bonus.
the kroot: No roll.


The captain won't answer any questions concerning why you are there while you're all dining. As soon as you're all done eating, he ushers all of you into an adjoining chamber where he pours you all a glass of fine Scintillian amasec and gestures for you to sit in one of the fine leather chairs a few feet from you.

You are relaxing in a chamber filled with an eclectic collection
of trophies. Keel wanders around the room, his hand tracing the
designs of an ancient Eldar war banner, the broken fang of a
Dusk Stalker and the gun batteries of a replica of the Divine
Right before coming to rest on an ancient hellpistol. Keel then
turns to you and smiles.
“I won’t waste your time with any more small talk or
pleasantries, as I am sure you are keen to learn why I have
brought you here. You see, I am on a mission for the Battlefleet,
the Calixian Battlefleet of course, which has a vested interest in
this area of the Expanse—and in particular, a system known as
Svard. It seems that an Imperial Envoy on a mission to Svard
has disappeared and I have been tasked with finding him—and
helping him to complete whatever it was that got him sent out
here in the first place. Of course, Svard is a long way from the
hives of Scinitilla and I need help—specifically your help. As you
may or may not know, your dynasty founded Svard and so has a
connection to it—not to mention extensive records and survey
reports which should still be on your vessel. Your presence will
also make dealing with the locals easier—for whilst my vessel and
crew are well equipped for confrontation, we are not a diplomatic
or trade mission. In exchange, I would help you to re-establish
your claim on the system and even turn a blind eye on any local
profit you might feel is your due. So what do you say?”

[Whiskeyjack]

Pran Chole swirls the amasec in its glass like a pro, taking long whiffs of the vapors through his nostrils, his ruff stirring. "738...no...742, by your calendar, yes? Fine vintage, even brewed in a soulless cube of metal." he clicks softly in his own language, amused, taking a small sip and letting the fire wash over his sensitive tongue. "By your calendar, the same year as your Damocles Gulf attack..." Pran Chole chirps with a small amusement. He figures nobody knows what he's saying, but he appreciates the irony anyway.

[Baveboi]

Feeling the need to voice his mind, but discreetly, Remi focus his eyes on his Captain. His mind opens to the warp and send a small whispered message to Aria Avorn at the end of his gaze. My Captain. Seize this opportunity! To own an entire system could be the greatest feat of many smaller servants of the Emperor, but would definitely symbolize a big step in your already magnanimous career, my liege.

Another easy telepathy that would be free to be blocked, in case Ze Kaptein wishes so. :smallbiggrin:

[Hemnon]

Baveboi
as you attempt to get into contact with the warp, you feel that you're unable to do so, it's simply like you're being blocked.

[Baveboi]

Baristan visibly chokes on his own tongue. His eyes are panicked and his hands get jittery. "W-what... What trickery is this? H-how-?" The psyker is looking straight into his Captain's eyes and then back to Captain Keel. He is trying his best to hide the distress he fell in, but to be truly alone after a life-time of sharing a special connection to the Warp and the warp-attuned is what someone smart enough would call unnerving. Knowing his place, Remi sits tight and swallows his own teeth, now silent.

[Whiskeyjack]

Pran Chole looks at the astropath, gives a quiet trill and tilts his head inquisitively.

[Maddness]

Nathin is more interested in the rooms Trophies, and is Suitably impressed by the Eldar War banners. As the Lord-Captain is talking he strategically faces away, his face would have betrayed how much he doubted the Naval Captains Word, even after the courtesy they have been shown.

However, he waited to here his Captain's response before he chimed in.

[DrK]

Aria watches the naval captain over the lip of the glass of amsec. Swirling the glass carefully before taking a long sip she projected an air of casual relaxation while inside her mind was racing. "Svard... I can't remmeber that name. But to own a star system. That would surely propel the dynasty back into the forefront of the noble families of the sector!".

Taking a breath she nods slightly. ""Of course I rememmber mentions of the system. The offer your propose is most interesting Captain. I'm sure my fellow officers will agree and will rise suitably to the challenge."

She looks to the rest of the command smiling encouragingly as she points them out with her glass before her voice becomes slightly more serious. Words slipping between high gothic and the much shorter and rapid fire Battlefleet Cant.

"What exactly do you wish from us? Is it just the surveys and then we trail into the system on your coat tails?" her voice suggests that this inferior role does not sit well with Captain Avorn.
"If on the other hand you wish us to spearhead this investigation whilst you wait for us to ready the ground before we invite you in then that may work out better? We would of course be happy for you to station some stormtroopers and some observers on board. Strictly under my command of course whilst they reside on my ship." She smiles thinly awaiting an answer as she takes a sip from her glass. The role of the observers clearly purely as watchers, and not in any command functions.


Also inviting them to give us a stormtrooper detachment (as mentioned in Into the Storm) and possibly some small auxilary attack craft or shuttles to place in our regular small shuttle bays (sadly we are not big enough for full attack wings :smallfrown:)

Let me know if you want a roll or check. Peer -Imperial Navy would apply here right?

[Hemnon]

''I'm sorry but i'm not able to spare any of my men and i have no intention of degrading you and your ship to such meager position, I need your help, as i said earlier... and i can't really order anyone around out here in the expanse, so no you'll not become my lackeys. as i also meantioned earlier, i'll help re-establish your hold on svard once more. all i ask for is help in my investigation.'' he sound quite sincere, and hopeful.

[DrK]

Aria looks at Keel, glancing around her bridge crew before asking in a guarded tone. "What would you have of me and my fair ship then?"

She looks around at the gothic decorations and the war banners. "Clearly you do not need the Silverknife for her guns? Speak plainly and quickly if you have the aid of my house and my warrant."

[Hemnon]

''As one servant of the emperor to another, trust me my lady, i have no intention of taking control of the system, you or your ship. I'm merely requesting aid in my endeavor, all profit you may derive from this mission is yours to keep... and it's a 'personal' matter for me, i will not go into more details on that subject. please understand, my request if for assistance and not a hiring of mercenaries or simple thugs.'' his tone almost sounds slightly pleading now.

[DrK]

The Lady Captain looks one more time around the room seeking guidance from her associates before she issues a curt nod. "I will aid you Captain Keel. Subject to certain conditions once you explain some more of the details. However it is vital that the system be brought back into the family, and the Imperium's fold."

She looks out the window at the tiny frigate dwarfed by the 5 mile long cruiser. "The silverknife and her crew are ready to answer the Emperor's call."