Dark Heresy: Ratcatchers: The Cats [Archive] - Page 2

Miraqariftsky

2013-01-18, 03:02 PM

"'Strue, that. Bless yer 'eart, Madre. Smoking saints, damned shame most other ministers are just old yellers atop the dissant pulpits or offertory-diving altarboy-frakkers. Or good ol' Redemptionists, hmm? They may be slag-as-all-hell insane, but at least they're in the dirt an' ain't hypococrates." says the bluehaired blackguard, flicking her pistol's safety on. Her three jarheads follow suit, visibly relaxing. The leanest of the three, a rangy boy no older than twenty-standard, lets his eyes linger and roam Kaarli's figure before the stouter soldier of fortune beside him clouts him upside the head with an open hand. On the other side of the fire, the third man is bald and heavily scarred. His head rests on his rifle's stock, the muzzle grounded, his gaze lazy, his chewing seeming mechanical.

"You got a name, Madre?" she asks. "Sar'nt Rochelle West, retired, Scintillan Slag Dogs 63rd... and current CO of Rochelle's Roughnecks, merc outfit. Me an' Jord'n over there's Infernis forged and cokked. Yyyyeah, y'll hafta excuse me kid brother there, Madre, he ain't seen no girl pretty as you in... well, ever. Pff. Tub o' lard's Slagger, bastard pit-dog from deep-ass Volg. Baldy over there's a mutie... mute. Mute, not mutant, hell! Just can't speak, is all. Nor read or right, fer that matter. Hears orders well enough an' gets shet done. We only call 'im 'Jim' from the "JM-****numbers" from his gun's serial number. Joined up ten cycs ago, during a hell-break in Magnagorsk on Fenk."

Sergeant Rochelle falls silent for a long moment, silently stroking her steel, eyes closed in remembrance. "FFT. Slaggin' Fenk..." she mutters, then turns to Kaarli once more, forcing a smile back on her face. "Eh, naw, you lookin' fer the shipcrew, look fer the red-and-grey uniforms. Maintenance and security do come by, every so often. And the engineers do need to get out for the galley an' the lavatory. Us? On contract to the great and the grand, the dark and the deadly... Yes, Malfi, actually. You got any special holiness to be visiting there, Madre?"

“Who’s hiring, you’re asking?” Rochelle echoes, frowning a bit as her pallid face creases in hesitation and then shrugs as she says, “Eh… just some disgruntled fop, I suppose. Young master Xanth of House Asin. Seeks security for his school’s rebuilding, and ahhhhh yes, retribution against those who bombed the dang place. What? It’ll pay the bills.”

“Hrmph.” Rochelle snorts and says, “Sorry been slagging jawing at you so much. I’m sure you’ve got other souls to save, eh, Madre?”

Feel free to coast on your previous rolls' luck in terms of Charm and Inquiry. Well-in-hand. However...

Scrutiny +10

Hell Yeah Success

Mostly truths, but looks like they're holding back on somethings. Fenksworld seems to hold bad memories.

Flat Success

Yyyyyeah. Pretty much telling the truth, there. Jordan is lustful, Slagger is just plain hungry but takes some measure of professional pride in what he does, Jimmy is... morose? brooding?

Minor Failure

Lies. They're plants, with false stories... but to what end? Noooo, really? They seem decent enough. They still seem to make sense, but... there's just something... off.

Crapballs Failure

LIIIIIIEEEES! ITSATRAP!

~~~

The unfortunate thief blearily blinks himself awake, tries to rub the horrible welt upside his head...

...and then his peepers practically bug out at his predicament. A suddenly dry mouth champs without words, eyes darting between the two terrible men towering over him. Feet pound the floor uselessly, flesh coldly slapping on steel.

Finally, the ragged thief manages to squeak, "Iiih-iiiih, whuh-whuddayawant, f-f-f... sirs?"

Miraqariftsky

2013-01-18, 03:56 PM

~~~

Sister Kaeli’s quest through the canyons of crates and containers takes her through light and shadow. She passes by campsites livid with jostling, laughing, groaning people and places unreached by glow-globe or torch or lamp alike.

The mysteries of her cloak and her skill at stealth see her through. Finally, she comes upon a rather familiar shape near a wrecked container van.

Its blocky shape resolves into the familiar form of a Rhino AFV, its tracks and various mechanisms almost pristine. The insignia up front is clearly a Sororita fleur-de-lys. The various instruments, cannons and heavy guns remain unscathed despite the inevitability of looters.

Suddenly, shapes and shadows skitter and scamper out of the hatches. They might have been gretchin, but once they come into the light--- and out, as they soon run away--- it seems they are but normal human children.

Still something remains. Some kid in a dirty coverall, wearing a cooking pot helmet, a crowbar and a makeshift shield made from one of the tank’s skull-on-fleur marked hubcaps. The kid squints up at the massive Sister and says, “Ey yuu! Iz yuu uh Battal Scissor?”

~~~

Marcus the voider lad
In former life once had
Grown in similar cold and dark hold
But by duty-bound, he struggles to be bold
Walking the myriad ways
Meandering the metal maze and shadows’ plays
He cannot count the people whom he doesmeet
Nor can he know, folk who him greet
And yet them all he hears
All their feelings and their fears
“Unnnh-annngh-AHH-yyyyesss-Voidfaaa-NNNNGGGH!”
“Hey, hey you. What’s that you got under there, huh? Don’t ch---“
“Maaaaan. Can’t preachers preach something else? Dafuq dya needta keep shouting, frigger?”
“And there was a home / Where nei’r goons nor daemons roam / Wind with stars were pure / Nothing canned and stale to endure…”
“Uwwaaah! Ma-ma! Ma-ma!”
“Hey, slagger! Waster! Come back here! That’s mine!”
“Kiiiiiitty! C’mere… OOF!”

Suddenly, something slams into him, doubling him over.
With apologies, the air does shiver.
Voidfather, Voidfather, what have I--- oh, wait! Offboarder! Huh. He’s kinda cute, I guess…
“Hey! Hey-hey-hey! You alright there, mister?”

Strawberries

2013-01-18, 05:18 PM

Marcus staggers and stumbles, instinctively grabbing whatever or whoever bumped into him to avoid falling down.

"I...yes, I'm fine." he answers, letting go of the person he's grabbed and taking a step back. Kinda cute? he wonders, confused, not sure what's it referred to. He's used to the cacophony of half-thoughts and impressions, but still, there are times when he perceives something surprisingly clearly and surprisingly loud, and it never fails to catch him off-guard.

Henry the 57th

2013-01-18, 05:28 PM

Kaeli thinks for a moment, wondering whether she should attempt to conceal her true nature from this child. It would obviously spread from there, children being notoriously loose-lipped, but then, so would simply taking this sacred vehicle for a base, as she intended. And perhaps being known as a Sister would help her here. Besides, if necessary it would be easy enough simply to pin the idea of her being a Sororita on the overactive imagination of a child.

Kaeli puts on her best friendly smile and nods. "I am, little one. Sister Etemara. Tell me, what is your name?"

As soon as she can, Kaeli voxes the details of the site to the rest of the cell. "I believe this would make an ideal base."

LeSwordfish

2013-01-18, 05:54 PM

Scrutiny +10: [roll0] vs 32

Kaarli smiled and nodded. "Sorry. Sister Kaarli Remora, of the Church Of His Light on Maccabeus Quintus. Good to meet you."

"No specific holy place. My companions choose to pilgrimage to places without the emperor's glow- another group went to fenksworld actually. I joined the trip to Malfi because my brother was studying there- but wait, you say Xanth Asin? My brother mentioned him. You say their school burned down?"

Remora frowned, resisting the temptation to check if the mercenaries were buying it. "I would be very interested in meeting Mr Asin. If something has gone wrong... When we arrive, would you be able to put me in contact with him?"

ellna

2013-01-18, 06:48 PM

Sarah continues working on Amadeus. Her fingers worm their way inside the mechanisms. One of the wires had slipped off the internal pulley, she winced as she saw it. With an extreme effort she pulled the tense wire back onto the pulley straining against the coiled spring that resisted it. Her eyes flicked up to watch Kaarli for a moment while she absently wiped a bleeding palm on her dirty rags. Kaarli certainly had a manner that allowed her an easy relationship with this group. Sarah smiled as she watched from her rusted alcove. Where had the inquisition dragged her from?

The vox crackled and Sarah listened intently to Kaeli. Sarah chuckled as she heard the intermittent transmission. An armed rhino. With a loud click she slotted the outer plate back onto the repaired weapon. A few twists of the wrench, a conformational ping from the ammo box as it fits back in and a reassuring hiss from the tubes that made Amadeus' veins. Sarah licks the blood from her lip and held the weapon at the ready. Looking down the barrel...

She swallowed back her rising nausea and set Amadeus back into it's home and flicked off the light. She stayed sat in the darkness, waiting and watching.

bluntpencil

2013-01-18, 06:52 PM

"What made you think you could steal from the Judges, boy? Yer either very brave or very stupid. Or workin' fer someone."
Alexei gets right to the questions, a heated iron held to the chin of the fool child.

Miraqariftsky

2013-01-19, 09:01 PM

Wandering the meandering ways between stacked container vans, Lupus passes through patches of camplight and deep shadow. Lost in his ruminations, he seems to have walked himself almost into a cul-de-sac--- a dark, empty corridor behind him, a high and faceless corner wall of containers in front and to his left, with a small passage to his right, occupied by a heap of jumbled crates. He is caught off-guard when a heavy hand descends on his shoulder.

The hand withdraws warily, before any defenses could be brought to bear. As Lupus turns, it seems his not-quite-assailant is a woman in a weathered, utilitarian and unmarked greatcoat. A ballistic coif’s hood is pulled down over her face, obscuring most features except a fair chin and a distinctly unpainted lower lip.

Both hands--- leather gauntleted, it seems--- rise in a placating gesture, and then she says in a strangely melodious voice with a hint of a humoured undercurrent, “A warning to the wise. Or the foolish. You might want to turn back, unless you have a deathwish. Yonder’s the territory of the Reek-Pen tribe, a particularly savage lot of hold-dregs.”

~~~

Yarach racks his memory banks for information pertinent to schematics: Imperial starship: civilian transport cruiser. Three most relevant files spring to the forefront of his cybernetic search engines.

The first is a copy, or rather, several copies of the classified document Starship Schematics Compendium, XIV Edition that he had once processed during his old days at a simple deskjob. The second is a routine report regarding the manifests, complements and destinations of the current year’s flights of the starliner Imperial Starways’ fleet.

The third is a optiphoto-capture dated a mere several minutes before--- his memory of having passed the ship’s map in the main hall after entering. If one were to set aside the outer hull, it seems evident that the ship’s internals follows the standard Imperial bullet-shaped pattern. The enginarium--- containing the primary fusion reactor, the secondary core, the secondary control stack, the Gellar field generator and the Warp-field generator--- looms at the stern, vein-like conduits conducting power from there to throughout the various quarters and functions across the body of the vessel as well as the myriad maneuvering thrusters. The bridge, containing primary controls, the Navigator’s node as well as the ship’s longvox, contrary to popular belief, is actually on the third deck--- a bit away from immediate danger up top. Right the enginarium is deck after deck of cargo holds, ferrying freight as well as people, both legitimate fare and dreg-holds. More or less amidships, on succeeding decks are located the chapel, the galley and a massive public lavatory. The rest of the space is occupied by private rooms for better-paying customers and the crew themselves.

Secret passages? Not much in the way of that. This bugger’s a legit operation, more or less. Standard specs. You looking for secret passages, you’re looking for either a military vessel [or Inquisition-chartered vessel] or a Rogue Trader.
Maintenance shafts? Um. Follow logic, common sense and Star Trek ship-plans slapped on with Battlefleet Gothic images.
Visuals? Standby for PM.

Following these files, as well as his basic logic processors, he makes quickly for the nearest maintenance crew’s console, plugs in, overrides basic security subroutines with Inquisition-grade clearance codes, then brings up the latest security vid-reels of the cargo hold he and his comrades are in, superimposing those with a downloaded floorplan as well as a cargo and crew manifest. At that same moment, judging by the concurrent timestamp, he jacks a feeed capturing a pack of children screaming and scattering…
…out of a near-pristine AFV. Nearby, one rag-clad scrap-armoured child challenges a looming shadow.

Suddenly, a stream of offensive code slashes into his cyber-uplink, his ultracognition rendered into a blinding garble of static that rips into his fleshly body with a feedback pulse that sends every nerve reeling...

...with a spark and an acrid puff of smoke, the maintenance port violently ejects him from the system. When his eyes and ears finally clear up from all the ringing and the blurring, he sees a fellow Mechanicus adept before him, clad in typical red robes, hood down, with a grey workshirt over them. The more immediate concern, however, is the well-polished, well-worn muzzle of a shotgun glaring at him right between the eyes. "...CURITY REPORT. HACKER FOUND, POSSIBLE HERETEK OR ROGUE MAGOS. INCAPACITATED, DETAINED FOR FURTHER QUESTIONING. MAINTENANCE SUBROUTINES ASSESSING POSSIBLE SYSTEM DAMAGE. HQ, ORDERS? UNDERSTOOD."

Yarach's still-struggling systems still cough up that the weapon glaring at his face is a 10-gauge starship standard-issue boarding and security shotgun, manufactured mainly on Cypra Mundi, with exported derivative models from Fane Westingkrup in Gunmetal as well as the ancient and revered Remingtons from Holy Terra. Presently, it pokes him again and the voider cogboy says simply, "Who are you working for? Tell me the truth unless you want to be... overhauled."

W'elp. With those kinds of rolls, especially that 98, well, those things deserve something special, don't you agree? Oh, right. Feedback was rather violent. 3 Wounds-equivalent. Toughness and Armour don't apply. -20 to all rolls, can only take half-actions from the pain.

~~~

Marcus stares at the lean, almost haggard bundle of rags in his arms. She seems to be rather warm, and wet...

...she pushes away, shivering slightly, breathing hard, leaning against the opposite crate as Marcus.

She dusts off her dirty coat.

Marcus feels the warm heat on the hand that he'd used to arrest her fall.

Blood.

Beneath the battered hood, the girl grimaces, clutching a darkening stain in her side. "H-hey. Sorry again 'bout bumping into you like that. You sure you're alrig--- hnngh. Uh, I don't m-mean to be rude, but do you got a good hole to hide in? I'm kinda in a bad shape right now..."

IC: Gah! You stupid git! Why are you even thinking things like that at a time like this! Hey, hey, just saying. BAH! Priorities, girl, what the frak is wrong with you?! Besides, looks like the Voidfather'd tossed you a citrus here, eh? Looks like he could help. HUH. Will you l... well. Hmm. Maybe... Damn it. I hope those gangers don't find me here. Getting awfully damned close. WARP, hope they aren't cultists too. The Inquisitor's going to purge my ass if I even live through this. CAN"T engage openly. CAN"T fry them outright, more's the pity. DAMN IT. Looks like I might have to play the distressed damsel card... FRAK ME SIDEWAYS WARP DAMN IT, VOID FLUSH IT, THRONE CRAP THE LOT, arrrrrrrrrggggghhhhh. GFFFRRAAAAAGH! Huff-huff-huff. Shut up, me. Let 'im know I'm an Acolyte serving another Inquisitor? HUH. Mebbe useful, mebbe dangerous. Frak. Dangerous. Useful. ARSE! Stupid damned git. How could you let yourself be disarmed?! Of the old sergeant's pistol, no less? ARGH!

OOC: Please roll some WP test [with +20 circumstantial bonuses, from the target's clearly frazzled state and from Marcus' tiny bit of comfort that she might be a fellow Throne Agent.]
Fail that, get 1d3 Insanity.

Miraqariftsky

2013-01-20, 02:59 PM

The extremis of the moment under Alexei's hand seems to galvanize the iron thief, young muscles bunching up as he struggles in vain against his bonds. Though his face drips and steams with sweat and more than a few tears sizzle on the floor, he gasps, "I--- work--- for--- ME. Loose screw is loose screw, HFF-HFF, a case wot can be cracked is a case ---ggggnnnnnnhhhhh--- cdd! be! cracked!"

~~~

The child beams a gap-toothed grin and raises her shield even higher. "Deh nam's K-Kells. Eh-eh-eh, sign me? Please? Sign me in deh Emp'rer Voidfatha's nam'?"

Henry the 57th

2013-01-20, 03:11 PM

Kaeli looks at the little girl for a moment. And admirable sentiment for one so young. Perhaps the Emperor's hand is at work here...

Out loud, she smiles and says, "Perhaps. Tell me, have you any family? Or anyone who takes care of you?"

Urist

2013-01-20, 04:35 PM

Yarach's systems, overwhelmed by the electrical shock, shut down for a moment, and he is left in darkness. As they return, he observes, in his face, a shotgun, and a presumptuous Tech-Priest aiming a shotgun at him. In normal circumstances, Yarach would have wielded his considerable authority more confidently, but in this circumstance, he was more than slightly shaky, his normally composed voice shaking with statics.

"This unit:designated Enginseer-Lieutenant Yarach, seconded to Cell:Hounds, CO: Arbites Captain Alexei Britanov. Clearance: Inquisitorial Remit. Confirmation: Y2K-AB-1033. This unit requires your assistance, Enginseer. Could this unit escort this unit to this unit's CO?"

Immediately, Yarach realized his mistake, and cursed the frailties of the flesh. He had revealed his remit. Hopefully, he could fix his mistake with this woman's CO.

Strawberries

2013-01-20, 06:29 PM

Marcus takes another step back, shuddering slightly. He wasn't trying to get a reading, and he hadn't been prepared for perceiving the girls' thoughts so clearly. He wonders fleetingly if the fact that she's psi-active may have something to do with it, but that's really not the time to think about it.

She's too young, his mind warns him. Marcus's well aware he is an oddity, in having been sanctioned so young. The girl's apparent age doesn't compute with what he picked up from her mind about her being an Acolyte, and Marcus is well aware that thoughts may be broadcasted, as well, if one knows what one's doing. But it doesn't really matter. She may be an Inquisitorial agent, and she seems in trouble. Not to mention, she's bleeding. Not really THAT difficult a decision to make. Marcus nods once, sharply. "Come with me" he says, moving in to support her in case she needs it, but keeping her on his left, so he can draw his gun in case it's needed.

((He's going to head to whatever hiding place the others mentioned that is nearer...either Yarach's or Kaeli's. and keeping a hand on his gun juuuust in case. :smalltongue:))

ellna

2013-01-20, 06:56 PM

Sarah sits in her dark hole drumming her fingers on the cold metal. A soft strumming from the freshly tuned wires. Her tongue sticks to the top of her palate. She sighs and reaches for her vox. Alexei might appreciate a report. Though what would she tell him, that she had found a hole and learnt nothing. Not good enough. She reached for her flask and drank a bit, just a little to help her think. With a slightly dejected look Sarah tipped the flask high, only a slow trickle finding its way down her burnt throat. She'd have to fix that. Alexei had said to find information on the mercenaries shipboard. There had to be a drinking hole somewhere here... Somewhere, maybe some lot had a still. She thumbed the vox.

"Orders received. No hostile contact. Unit: Sarah active." Sarah grinned, Alexei would like that, he seemed to enjoy Yarach's awkward speech pattern. Sarah stood and started to shoulder Amadeus, kicking her duffel bag further into her hole. However as she stood out of her personal crevice she paused. Clicking the comm-bead once more she voiced her location, confidant that no one would seek her out. Certainly not after she had... Sarah shook her head this day certainly had started bad, the dry flask held heavy in her hand. Well that could be fixed. Sarah rubbed her neck and started in a random direction...

Sarah is heading for booze-hole/campfire/still/anyone that has soup/stew/broth.

I guess Inquiry:[roll0]

Miraqariftsky

2013-01-22, 03:02 PM

"Sister Kaarl---" Sergeant Rochelle begins, then is suddenly interrupted by Slagger saying, "FISHY. No-no, no offense meant, yer holiness. Sis'er Kaarli Fishy. Ain't that right? Jannitter, or cleaner, or sucker, or summat like that. What? I jacked a shipment o' books from a Librarian, one time. One o' them said tha' remora be some sorta fish wot cleans other fishies. Or summat. Sorr--- OOF"

Jordan repays his earlier clout with a well-thrown heavy-handed punch that nearly staggers the bigger man and cuts off his rambling.

On the other side of the fire, Jim sits merely staring blankly, just cradling his rifle.

Rochelle coughs and frowns, glaring and half-racking her pistol in what Kaarli easily infers to be a Gunmetallican mannerism. "Ahem. Well-met, Sister Kaarli. Uh, yeah, yeah, that's right." comes Rochelle's answer. "LEOs said 'twas an electrical malfunction, client suspects foul play, so here we are. If the Emperor wills it, then yes, we'll drop you a line--- Where will we call you, though? Your brother, you say? Brother's a student there? How was he, at last count?"

~~~

Looking somewhat disappointed that she received neither blessing nor signature, the child named Kells? Kills? Quills? stops and thinks for a long moment, scratching her nape, eskewing her tinpot helmet in doing so.

"De Voidfatha' does." She then answers. "I do, I taeks care o' me. An' me packrats, too, but dey runned away. One 'alf-a me wants ta cry dat dey wayn't brave. One 'alf-a me wants ta whomp dem dat dey dirrent bressings atta you." In a feral growl, she adds, "Me turd 'alf-a wantsa keel 'em gits an' haul 'em true de unner-hulls o' Sevensie."

Frowning, she says, "Eh, um, uh, sorry! Wot was you askin'? Oh, right. Er... down in de Bilges, I 'ad me Maam an' Paap. Unca Ben an' Sis'er, too. Der was lots, down der in de Bilges..." There is a hint of a tremble in her lip and voice, a quiver in the half-a-crowbar in her hand. "...den der was dead. Dunno iffen-iffen-iffen... glad dey runned away, dun wanndem ta see me cry... dunno iffen anybody lived. Der was... uff-mmff-hff... monstahs. Monstahs, der was. I took de kids what could, we runned down an' up an' 'round alla-nowheres-everywheres da redshirt-shafts. Stole what-when-what justta eat."

The child's frown deepens as she continues, "Basti got sick. Fevers was bad. Den she startid itchin' an' bleedin' an'... changin'. We dirrent knows wot ta do essept ta give 'er da blankies und dah drip-cloths. But... Basti became a monstah--- or, as Fadda Wadda der says, 'dem muties'--- even whiles she wuz a clawin' at us, she wuz cryin' an' askin' ta be killt. I took da redshirt's gun which I took an'... put 'er ta sleep. Me ratpackers starrid callin' me Keels arfter dat."

Clearly worn out even by simply reliving, yet unable to stop her words of relieving herself as if at a confessional, Kills slumps against the side of the Rhino, setting her head against a wheel. "Dunno 'ow long dat wuz den. Summa me ratpackers got losted inna redshirt shafts, w'ended up in dis 'ere 'old. We wuz lookin' fer dem, den 'eard dem savvy ganger FRAKKER gits. Marie an' Owen an' Gwaal wuz screamin'. Dey wuz... doin' stuff. An' eatin' dem. An' doin' stuff. It wuz... wez ratpackers shot dem blindside. Gwaal wuz gone. Marie runned. We took Owen an' runned. One a' dem caught up wid us. Blew Wasi an' Josie an' Joe ta bits. I got angry. I tot I wuz afire. I tot I wuz dedded. Punched an' shanked dat ganger git 'til 'e wuzzent movin' no more, den I 'it 'im again."

The smile returns, wanly, with a blush and a frown as she pats the tank behind her. "Dun go inna de Mamsie. I tink you mebbe smells it bad. Iz mess inside. Dat wuz uz ratpackers' 'ome fer, fer, uh, long time?"

~~~

The redshirt enginseer security responder crouches in front of Yarach such that they are eye to eye.

He stares at Yarach for a long time, the while tickling the stricken Acolyte's chin with the shotgun's muzzle. "This unit doubts Unit: Yarach's processes. List: unsound at best. List: heretek, hacker and a saboteur, at worst. If Unit: Yarach qualifies as simply Unsound, this unit would like to inquire--- where did Unit: Yarach get his apparently slag-quality booze-oil and scrap-code packets? If Unit: Yarach negates List: heretek, hacker and saboteur, where is its passenger-chip?"

~~~

A few minutes of wandering and following her nose and ears leads Sarah to an encampent of crap-passengers and bilge-hold tribers. Plonking herself down at a long welded-together barrel-bench beneath a flickering neon sign that says "CIR_ _ _ T BRAEKER", the locals reflexively glare at her...

...but soon enough smile back, put at ease by her easy demeanour. To her right are what seems to be a family--- a hunchedbacked man and a mousy mother cradling a pair of swaddled babes. The father groans as he reaches into his ragged coat and counts out currency beneath his hiding hand. To Sarah's left is a terribly twitching robed preacher, his long Aquila's beads jangling with every breath. Beyond him is a voluptuously figured redheaded woman clutching her coat tightly about her, scowling at everybody and nobody in particular. Beyond her, half a dozen greyshirted workmen nurse dirty mugs of some sort of clear-coloured liquor. Behind Sarah, a pallid, grey-haired girl in a red rag-robe slowly sways, singing half in ship-cant, half in mech-code.

The short, fat bearded man behind the makeshift bar slaps a greasy hand in front of Sarah and grates, "Whass yer poison?"

~~~

Marcus seems to recognize and confirm a similar hesitation to his own as he looks over his shoulder and sees the wounded psyk-girl apparently forcing herself to follow.

He sees that her other hand--- the hand not clamping down on the bleeding--- has already drawn some sort of weapon but is as yet holding it down. Not a gun. Flick-knife? Telescoping baton?

After that sudden blast of static, Marcus no longer hears anything from Lieutenant Yarach. The signal from Sister Etemara's position is quite clear, though.

Suddenly, he hears heavy boots clanging close by, apparently in a flanking maneuver, coming in from the next lefthand passage. Marcus shudders from the thought-stream coming from their pursuers, filled with hatred, anger and fear. He holds up a hand, and when his charge fails to stop in time, just grabs her and yanks her backwards and to the rightward passage, then jinking right again, letting up only when the sounds of pursuit slacken.

She'd at first stiffened, then hurried along, following him. Panting, she locks gazes with Marcus with piercing ice-blue eyes and lifts her good hand in a half-Aquila salute, an Inquisitorial electoo in her palm briefly flashing around the hilt of a telescoping baton as she lets her hood down. Beneath, her face is utterly devoid of hair. She seems to have regained her composure--- or is composing herself for a glorious death--- and says, "Ave Imperator, brother Acolyte-Sanctionite. Agent Lumen, reporting. Seized a critical package from a heretic gang."

The salute--- and the baton--- lowers as she continues her rasping report, "Left hip pocket. Lead casket. Must NOT fall into wrong hands. Will buy you the time, if necess--- hhhhrrrryyyy. Hff-hff."

She then flashes a wink and a smirk and a curt, bloody-flecked chuckle. "I'd like to live, though."

LeSwordfish

2013-01-22, 03:37 PM

"The last time we spoke was months ago. He was fine then, but now..."

Kaarli affected an air of grief and worry. Maybe it would buy her some time to decide on the more difficult answers. "I don't know... Will I be able to find you here on the rest of the voyage?"

She let the name comments pass. For one thing, growing up on a largely landlocked world, she wasn't a hundred percent sure what a fish was.

This is where my knowledge of the 40k world works. How WOULD Kaarli communicate with them? Set up a vox-frequency and hope it's clear?

And if you're asking if there's any meaning behind the "Remora" name, there isn't. I heard it once, and liked the sound.

Henry the 57th

2013-01-22, 04:39 PM

Kaeli listens intently as the child tells her story. Her eyes narrow when the child mentions creatures attacking their settlement and a friend turning into one. Not normal mutant behavior... Genestealers? Kaeli thinks back to her time cleansing the hulk. No, the behavior's all wrong. They don't kill humans, they implant them. And the implanted don't beg to be killed, they fake normality.

Kaeli squats down a bit to look Kells in the eye. "Kells, I need you to tell me more about these "monsters" you encountered. Even small details might be important."

Urist

2013-01-22, 04:54 PM

Yarach, indignant at this mans temerity, cannot help but wish that he was well enough to grab his shotgun and turn the situation about. However, there was nothing to be done for it. He would have to play this mans game for now.

"This unit understands the concern over tech-heresy. However, this unit is a loyal servant of His Emperor's Most Holy Inquisition, and thus is prepared to prove Clearance:Inquisitorial Codes. May this unit retrieve its passenger-chip from within its robe? If this unit scans the ticket and allows communication with this ones commanding officer, the story can be confirmed."

Yarach grimaces, and, if he is allowed to do so, takes out his ticket, and hands it to the cogboy.

If he responds positively, Yarach speaks thusly:

"May this unit contact its commanding officer, so that this misunderstanding on list memberships may be resolved?"

If he is allowed to do so, he voxes Alexei, recieving aid from the tech-priest if possible, with this message:

"This units secrecy has been compromised. This unit was disabled attempting to obtain schematics and information from this ships machine spirit; ran into a particularly potent piece of scrap-code. Apprehended by Tech-Priest belonging to vessel. Help in clearing up misunderstanding would be appreciated."

Strawberries

2013-01-22, 05:42 PM

Marcus nods again in acknowledgment, moving to retrieve the package she mentioned. He has questions, of course, but at the moment, they can wait. He'd very much like to live, too. He turns on communicator and broadcasts his position to the others, togheter with a simple message. "Agent Marcus Lumen, moving towards Sister Etemara's position. I will need assistance." Strangely enough, his voice isn't shaking or wavering. He seems more calm and in control now that there's real danger than in the Inquisitor's tent, when he only had to interact with his cellmates.

He takes his gun out, preparing himself for a possible confrontation. He looks at the girl with a certain worry, assessing her conditions. "Negative, I don't need you to buy me time" He'll continue guiding her towards Kaeli's position, keeping near her to support her in case she stumbles or falls, but at the same time, he'll keep an eye out for spots that can give them an advantage should it come to a confrontation before they get there.

((Psyniscience, again [roll0] vs 44: do I know how many pursuers? If I do find out, he'll broadcast that info as well.
I'll roll perception as well, to be a little more aware of his surroundings. [roll1] vs 34
EDIT: Okay, sees nothing and perceives a cacophonic mess, then...plan is STILL to keep moving towards Kaeli, now that he's warned the others. Well, unless those rolls are such a mess that they imply some critical failure...
Also, let me know if I should roll something else.))

Henry the 57th

2013-01-22, 05:53 PM

Kaeli listens as the witch announces he's coming to her position. "Copy, Agent Lumen. Reasons? Pursuers?" she voxes back.

ellna

2013-01-22, 06:53 PM

Seeing the neon sign, Sarah grins and approaches the bar. She licks her lips taking in the details. The people and the machine lady's song. The greasy barman asks her something, but her attention is suddenly elsewhere. The vox in her ear crackled and the psyker's voice came over, clear and blunt. Sarah held her hand up to the barman a coin resting between her fingers. Slowly, deliberately she placed the coin spinning on the bar. Sarah looked over at the coin as it came to rest. The side with the emperor's gleaming visage resting looking up. Sarah sighed. "Something cheap and quick. Make sure it's strong." Her voice was terse as she fished out a handful of thrones to pay the man.

Bottles in hand Sarah turns and heads to the position the sister Kaeli had described earlier. It seemed the Emperor smiled on the psyker after all. As she hurried through the crowded space she thought about her throne wrought choice. Coming to the wolves aid wasn't required by her lord and master, yet... How could she have considered leaving her new colleagues to find trouble without her. As Sarah ducked between a pair of dirty passengers she allowed herself a small smile.

Sarah buys two bottles of poor quality rot gut. 10 thrones. If he ain't got the crappy rotgut or takes to long Sarah takes her thrones and leaves. Sarah then heads to the rhino.

bluntpencil

2013-01-22, 09:29 PM

Alexei wasn't bothered by the thief's attempts to claim 'opportunism' as his reason for for robbing the Adeptus Arbites. Hell, he was probably telling the truth.

That wouldn't stop the torture, though. If he was lying, the torture was to find the truth. If he was telling the truth, well, it was just punishment.

"Again, boy. Who put you up ta this? Who are yer pals?"

I'm sparing the details here. I'm not too comfortable going into the details of Interrogation checks using excruciator kits.

Anyway, another roll, another few hours.
[roll0]

Strawberries

2013-01-23, 02:27 AM

"Affirmative, ma'am" Marcus replies, while keeping moving. "Pursuers, unknown number". A slight hesitation, the first since the situation started. "I-I've got a wounded Agent with me"

Henry the 57th

2013-01-23, 03:02 AM

"Number and type of pursuers? What agent? How badly?" Kaeli says, easily falling back onto her battlefield training.

DaedalusMkV

2013-01-23, 03:25 AM

Wulfgar, now wearing the simplest piece of Arbites identification that he could find among the supplies and carrying one of their Shock Mauls, branded with the Imperial Fist and Scales, stands watching Alexei do his work for as long as he can. While the Assassin has no problem with blood or death, he's never been particularly fond of torture. The Bretheren never included pain in their teachings; Offerings are made by the spilling of blood, and killing efficiently always precluded purposefully inflicting pain for no other reason. Turning away, he murmers, "The others have been absent for some time. I will attempt to contact them. I mistrust these crowds..." Turning his attention away from the screaming juve and his too-happy captor, the Assassin thumbs his Micro-bead and begins transmitting on the team's comm-frequency. "Agent Sarah, Sister Remora, please report in." If nothing else, he can distract himself from the boy's screams for a moment, refocus on the mission and drive the minute inkling of unease he feels at Britanov's actions away.

ellna

2013-01-23, 05:18 AM

Sarah weaves through the crowd a bottle in each hand. The vox crackles again. Wulfgar's voice comes over filled with static. "Sar... Sister... report in." Sarah stuffs one of the bottles into a deep pocket and thumbs her communicator. "Sarah moving to assist ps... Marcus. Contact expected at Sister's Ride." She wasn't sure how much of her message had broken through though, so she repeated it. "Sarah. Heading to Rhino. Possible hostile contact." Sarah growled and tugged the bottle back into her hand and put on a burst of speed.

Strawberries

2013-01-23, 05:31 AM

"Unknown number, Ma'am" Marcus repeats. As for how hurt... He launches a grim, worried look to his companion. Badly, from what he can judge. "We will require medical assistance "

He turns towards the girl "Do you know how many people are following us and what level of threat they pose, Agent?"

Miraqariftsky

2013-01-23, 07:31 AM

The two Agent Lumens make what haste they could while still hugging walls, cold steel behind their backs. The moment she sees the make and model of Marcus' gun, however, she gasps, grimacing and shaking her head. "A laspistol? Time like this? Yer either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Hope you had that thing properly blessed."

"At least squad-strength. Probably more. Probably the last survivor of my cell." she hisses as they creep along one corridor. "Probably split up in a pincer. Black Crab Gang, recently muscled their way up from the Bilge Holds. Somehow got a hold of heretek hardware, likely from Inferniiiiiiii--- FFF!"

Suddenly, as the two are rounding a bend, even as Marcus is bringing up his muzzle to cover the leftward fork, his namesake covering his back, an unwashed leather-clad ganger brute barrels into him. In the fraction of a second of blazing adrenaline and grappling, the young Agent's hands move in reflexes he may not even have realized that he had.

One shot cracks out, a wrist explodes in flash-boiled flesh and bone. A shotgun falls from the ganger's grasp. Before the weapon clangs to the deck, the compact laspistol's grip whips around, slamming into the ganger's jaw, sending him reeling and slumping against a crate.

Before Marcus could recover his stance, another ganger has popped up around the corner. The bootleg bullpup autorifle has him square in its sights. The ganger grins, revealing black and yellow teeth, flicks the selector to full auto, then pulls the trigger...

Klik. Klik-klik-klik.

Marcus' namesake slides to one side and the first ganger's dropped shotgun booms in her hands, blowing the other bugger away. Just as she racks another shell into the chamber, one patch on her coat visibly matted and darkening, the two ends of the corridor fill with at least half a dozen or more Black Crabbers clad in leathers and flakcloth. They brandish various autopistols and blades, but staring at the bloody ruins of their too-swiftly dispatched vanguard, they seem to have lost their wind.

One of the gangers on the right, a long, lank-haired rat of a man, raises his hands and says, "Looook, yo, offdecker. Leave da box an' da bitch ta us, we don't feed ye ta the Big Boss. Arright?"

Round Zero, y'all won the surprise round. You really don't want to see the horrible string of dice-luck on the meatspace rolls.

Ahem. So, roll Initiative?
Lumen the Bleeder: [roll0]
Black Crab Twitch-Twist: [roll1]
Black Crab Rattletrap: [roll2]
Black Crab Mook with Auto and Shiv: [roll3]
Black Crab Mook with Auto and Shiv: [roll4]
Black Crab Mook with Auto and Shiv: [roll5]
Black Crab Mook with Auto and Shiv: [roll6]

~~~

Alexei's prey soon expires, a ruined husk of a man. Filth and flesh litter their little holdout of Imperial Law.

The last thing he said before he died was "Yer muddar!"

~~~

Behind Sarah, she could practically hear the barman's spluttering and soon manic laughter. Knowing what she does of dives, hives and gutter-joints, she could expect that there might soon be rumours of a rich-tipping not uncomely offdecker who seems to be damned loaded with cash.

Apparently, the currency exchange rate for the Galactic Standard Throne Gelt is pretty steep here.

People she's passing by either stare or get the frak out of her way.

Soon enough, the mercenary from Taj'ken speeds as best she could, making for where she hears those shots. Snub-las and riotgun so far. Still a good way away. Still a good deck away and she heard those reports over the comms-ways.

~~~

"The..." Rochelle begins, only to be cut off by the morose man on the other end of the campsite.

"...Emperor Protects." Jim says with a haunted fervour.

Rochelle lets it go with a sigh and a half-rack of her pistol. "Probably, yeah. You should try to get outta the freight-hold sometime, though. The common lavatories up there are better than they sound. Decent fare. I don't recommend their mess hall, though. The 'vid theatre, well, depends. Last I heard, the latest flick's one of those knife-dramas from Landunder."

Indeed, agreed. Exchange of addresses? Courier? Vox-frequencies? Pulling an astropath'd be overkill, though.

Heh! So do I. And apt for her character too, what with how she "cleans up" those she takes care of.

~~~

Kells returns the veteran Battle Sister's gaze evenly, frowning like Arbitrator Foreboding on the holovids.

There is a bit of quiver in her eyes and nose as she thinks of her answer. "Um. They... wuz stinky? Made lotsa crunchy noises? We'se ears bleeded w'en deys talked? Warp! Dirrent wanna lissen, but w'en yer 'idin', ya carrent cove' yuh ears 'nough, no, ma'am. Dey wuz stinky, too. Like rotty rayshuns an' dead stuff an' sick stuff."

~~~

Yarach's arresting officer stares at the passage-chip, then his eyes go blank, quite clearly receiving an inundation of tightband messages.

Though his augmetics do not betray it, the fleshly hand that assists Yarach to his feet clearly trembles. His demeanour also changes to one of politeness. "This Unit: apologizes for the improper reception of Inquisitorial personnel, Lieutenant-Magos. This Unit: carrying out shipboard security protocols."

He cannot help but add on a note of personal and professional pride, though, "Unit: Yarach could have contacted List: shipboard maintenance and security and would have been welcomed and assisted openly. As you did, this Unit was forced to carry out... active security measures."

"There seems to be strife on deck. This is unacceptable. ++PATROL UNIT DELTA-THREE PROCEEDING TO DECK FOUR, SECTOR FOUR, GRID FOUR-FOUR++ Will Unit:Yarach come, or still quality: disabled?" the yet nameless enginseer retorts.

There ye go!
Also? Thanks for making me laugh with "ran into a particularly potent piece of scrap-code", instead of, oh, "I met my match and he drove a cyber-spike into my crossystem". Hilarious, thank you.

ellna

2013-01-23, 07:52 AM

"Frak!" Sarah could hear the gunfire as she drew closer to Kaeli's location. However she was still a ways from where she though Kaeli had said. Sarah felt bile rising in her throat as she pumped her legs. Her head was swimming, she should of stayed put. Frakkin' voidcraft, Sarah can't even tell where she is really, forging ahead towards the distant gunfire she discards one of the bottles into the lap of some camp's scum and tugs the pistol from her hip.

Drops one bottle and draws fat Vera. Run Run Run. Init:[roll0]

LeSwordfish

2013-01-23, 09:02 AM

Kaarli nodded, opened her mouth to speak, and then Sarah's urgent report came through her microbead. Fighting the instinct to put a hand to her ear in response, Kaarli nodded at the group. "I'll meet you back here near the end of the voyage then. Maybe one of the rest of my group can think of a way to communicate."

She took a few steps away from the group, preparing to unship her hammer, and then paused, struck by inspiration. "You want to break some heads in the emperor's name? Probably no payment but His blessing, but might be fun."

She wasn't sure how proportionate this response was. "Sarah, what's going on? And what do you mean, the sister's ride?"

I'm guessing that successfully persuading them to come help is another Charm test's worth? If so: [roll0] vs 60 again

ellna

2013-01-23, 09:08 AM

Sarah presses the commbead with the pistol as she ducks into a shaft between decks. "Rhino... Wounded... Marcus under attack." Sarah manages to pant out between her ragged breaths. Kicking away the loose grill she drops down the claustrophobic rat hole.

bluntpencil

2013-01-23, 09:23 AM

Alexei, on hearing the murmurs of upcoming violence, draws his shotgun and rushes after Wulfgar. Folk were stealing from the Adeptus Arbites and attacking Inquisitorial agents on this ship? They're lucky he didn't have a major purge conducted immediately. This was unacceptable.

"I want prisoners. This ship is full o' recidivist filth."

Initiative [roll0]

LeSwordfish

2013-01-23, 09:33 AM

"I'm on my way. Or I would be if I knew what the hell you were talking about. Where?"

ellna

2013-01-23, 09:36 AM

Sarah leaving the comm on, attempts to relay the location Kaeli had described earlier. Her words still coming raggedly as she fights against her exertion and nausea.

Henry the 57th

2013-01-23, 09:51 AM

Kaeli whispers to Kells. "Kells, I need you to be quiet now. Enemies are near. Stay here and await my return. And watch these things." She quickly stows all but five of her flamer flasks and fire bombs in the Rhino itself. Kaeli then draws her flamer and moves ad quickly and stealthily as she can towards the nearby source of the fire.

Comcealment, if needed: [roll0] vs. 82

Urist

2013-01-23, 10:30 AM

The tech-priests clear respect and fear goes a long way towards ameliorating Yarach's testy mood, although the ache of electrical discharge in his augmetic systems still leaves a foul grimace on what is left of his face. Coming to his feet, Yarach pulls out his Vanaheim shotgun, and turns to the Enginseer.

"Enginseer, this unit will accompany this one to the site of the disturbance; this units joints are pained, but the Omnissiah's duty waits for no man. Worry not about doing ones duty; this unit expects nothing less of a devoted disciple of the Omnissiah. This unit was attempting to maintain covert operations, but, in the future, this unit will cooperate fully with any security and data protocols present on this vessel. What is this ones designation?"

Drawing the Vanaheim, and accompanying the man he is following to the lower holds. How many updates?

Strawberries

2013-01-23, 04:04 PM

Marcus doesn't even attempt to answer, or to tell them to stand down in the name of the Inquisition. There's no point to, anyway... and he isn't sure he'd manage to talk without his voice shaking, after that first bout of adrenaline. He just brings his gun up and fires, aiming at the nearest enemies.

((Okay... I THINK I'm confident enough with the rules to attempt to do this. Semi-auto burst.

[roll0] vs 42 (BS+10)
If success [roll1]
If necessary [roll=hit 2]1d10+2[roll] and [roll=hit 3]1d10+2[roll] on the three goons in front of him. One each, if possible. Thanks. :smalltongue:

EDIT: I rerolled OOC for the messed up rolls (post #886) and got a 8 and a 10)

DaedalusMkV

2013-01-23, 05:23 PM

Wulfgar blinks as Sarah relays the contact with hostile forces and location. "Britanov. Trouble, that way." Having warned his erstwhile superior about the issue, the Assassin crouches for a moment the sprints. When he wants to, Wulfgar can really, really move and this is one of those times. Covering the distance in leaps and bounds, he vaults and maneuvres his way over every obstacle in his path, inanimate or human, on the way to Agent Lumen's location.

Like the text says, Wulfgar is very, very speedy. Using his Sprint Talent every other Round, he can cover 48 meters in odd-numbered Rounds (about three times what a normal AB3 character would manage), and 24 in even-numbered Rounds.

He is attempting to use Acrobatics to clear obstacles. [roll0] vs TN 52

Initiative: [roll1]

Edit: Really? Damn it all, dice roller...

Miraqariftsky

2013-01-24, 04:03 PM

The child Kells sees the sudden change in Kaeli's demeanour and quietly, calmly nods. As Kaeli takes off, she might hear a soft clanking, a hatch shutting, a firing port sliding ever so slightly open.

The Sister of Battle practically becomes a noiseless thundercloud, a swirling shadow of steel and sinew and sanctioned tech-sorcery. People she passes mutter prayers and gesture wards...

~~~

...echoed elsewhere as passengers gasp and murmer and tumble out of the way as Wulfgar passes through. He is a panther in flakweave and steel, bounding between bystanders, leaping crate-stacks, vaulting over idling loaders, scrambling to stack-roofs, sprinting across and swinging from dangling cargo chains.

Below him, Britanov hurries along, cutting a bow wave through crowds with his sheer menace, his aura of dread, his bloodstained armour, his badges of office, his naked monster of a gun... and the armoured Arbites bike he'd... requisitioned from the Jackals' makeshift fort.

Wulfgar lands with a roll and a loud thump on the roof of the central lift as it descends. Britanov lands on the lift with a horrendous crash.

~~~

Inside the lift, Kaarli and the Roughnecks hear a sudden thump on the cabin's roof. Several muzzles track the intruder but the Maccabean minister recognizes her fellow Acolytes' features through the lift's grilles.

~~~

All business, Yarach's arresting officer, now Yarach's recruited trooper, tromps through the lanes of the cargo-stacks. Crap-passengers are conspicuously absent. They are soon joined by a full squad of Ironclaw-toting redshirted security crew as they double time for Deck Four, Sector Four, Grid Four-Four...

~~~

...and at that moment, the brief standoff between cornered two Acolytes and half a dozen Black Crab gangbangers erupts into a few heartbeats of pure fury.

Aiming for the ones he discerns as the biggest threats, Marcus lets loose at the musclebound mutant and the gangers' speaker who hefts an assault rifle. Las-shots scorch across the tight confines. The first shot sears the twist-brute on its shoulder, the other two blast the rifleman's arm apart in a blaze of gristle.

The twist-brute roars and charges for the two Agents, ham fists swinging, spikes and blades gleaming, guttural throat growling barely understood oaths to the Ruinous Powers amidst a stream of pure bile...

...soon cut short when its partner catches the bullpup auto with his other hand, screams for blood and lets rip on full auto. Unfortunately, the bullets meant to cut the two Agents down punch into the twist-brute's flesh, killing him. Muttering oaths through gritted teeth, the ganger rifleman groans in agony, clutching at his ragged stump as he crawls to the dubious safety of a cross-street marginally away from incoming fire.

Behind Marcus, he feels and hears the sudden kick and boom of the looted shotgun in Agent Lumen’s hand.

The rest of the gangers open fire indiscriminately, spraying hot lead down both sides of the corridor. Two crumple, cut down by their comrades’ rage and lack of fire discipline. One has leapt for the cross-streets’ cover on the other side. One remains on his feet, barely. Smoke drifts from armour he’d hidden beneath his torso’s rags. Smoke wafts from his autopistol’s muzzle.

Marcus’ las-snub seems unnaturally heavy. Dimly, he realizes that he had actually been shot, his flesh beneath his flakweave armour feeling utterly battered. Behind him, he hears his namesake’s shotgun clatter to the deck but her breath still hisses, her boots scraping on the deck as she scrambles for a pistol.

The deck tinkles with a brass rain of spent shell casings. The smells of cordite and ozone, blood and guts hang in the air. Bodies and body parts wetly fall to the floor.

~~~

Meanwhile, her own breath ragged with running, Sarah rounds the bend of one crate-stack, hearing the fresh bulletstorm getting closer and closer with every long stride.

A sudden pause. Crawling? Reloading?

In the distance, she spots a ragged figure dragging itself away, its remaining hand struggling to staunch the bleeding of its arm-stump as well as alternating to scrabble with what might be a comms-set.

LeSwordfish

2013-01-24, 04:41 PM

Kaarli waved frantically at her newfound comrades. "It's okay! It's okay! They're with me."

She caught a glimpse of the captain's expression. "I'm with them, I mean."

As the lift descended, Kaarli helped the two soldiers into the car. "I think Marcus is under attack. Sarah's going to help him, but otherwise..."

"This is Rochelle, and her friends. They're mercenaries. This is the captain, and Wulfgar. They're security for the pilgrimage. There, we're all friends now. I thought we could use the help."

Kaarli resisted the urge to grin, and drew her hammer from its leather boot on her back. There was something straightforward about this. Chasing criminals through narrow streets. It got the adrenaline pumping. Intrigue was worrying but this...

When the doors from the lift opened Kaarli lead the charge out, the prayer for the beleaguered ally throwing itself around in her head. Almost like the more proactive bits of back home.

Henry the 57th

2013-01-24, 05:06 PM

Kaeli presses onwards as quickly as her feet can take her, flamer loaded and at the ready. She mentally prays to the Emperor that she should not be too late. It feels strange to be rushing to save a witch, but a team is a team. She thinks as she runs.

ellna

2013-01-24, 06:44 PM

Sarah rounds the bend of one crate-stack, hearing the fresh bulletstorm getting closer and closer with every long stride. She spots the foul figure in the distance and pauses, barely. The pistol in her hand rises with the trigger pressed down fully. The flintlock exterior is soon laid to rest when it rapidly churns out slug after slug. She steadies the weapon against the full bottle in her other hand Sarah advances spraying bullets and grinning inanely.

Sarah fires on full auto at Mutant Mustachio, extreme range and with narrative stepping forward.

2 Hits in the Legs for 5 & 11 Damage with 3 Penetration.

Attack:[roll0] Vs 36
Damage 1:[roll1]
Damage 2:[roll2]
Damage 3:[roll3]
Damage 4:[roll4]
Damage 5:[roll5]
Damage 6:[roll6]

And Dodge:[roll7] Vs 47
Failed Dodge I ain't moving just walking forward.If range less than 90m two more hits. If target is surprised another 3 hits. Maximum of 6 hits.

Strawberries

2013-01-25, 12:32 AM

Ah, what the hell.. taking the chance of NOT using psychic powers, then. Should any of you want to yell at him IC for this, feel free. (Even if with this party, that's probably unlikely :smalltongue:

Breathing hard, Marcus tries to raise his gun to shoot again, only to hiss in pain and discover he can't move his arm at all... he's bleeding, too, he realises, with a certain detachment, noting that the pistol handle has become slippery with blood that's dripping on the floor in small red dots. Behind him, he can hear the other agent's ragged breath. At the very least, she's still alive...and their opponents seem to be mostly incapacitated.

The young psyker grits his teeth and switches his gun in his left hand. He's shaking now, just a tiny bit, but when he points the gun to the burly man in front of him, his aim is steady. He presses the trigger again, shooting another burst of semi-automatic fire.

Aaand again.
Shooting vs 52 (BS+20, if my OOC calculations are correct.)
Hits [roll1] [roll2] and [roll3]

Reaction roll [roll4]
Marcus' dodge or whatever it is [roll] 1d100

Strawberries

2013-01-25, 12:36 AM

Gaah, really, dice roller? :smalleek: wait, I can use a fate point to roll that again, can't I?

[roll0]

And Marcus' dodge roll that I messed up the code of.. [roll1]

Edit: better. Way WAY better.

Urist

2013-01-25, 06:33 AM

Yarach struggles to run, his systems experiencing minor surges with every step. Firing off a packet of binary, he inquires as to where in the vessel the disturbance they are running to is, and of what nature.

"This unit hopes Marcus or Sarah have not initiated routine:trouble..."

Turning to the Enginseer who accosted him, he shrugs off his backpack capacitor. Looking quizzically, he inquires: "Would this unit wish to utilize this Hellgun? This unit is unable to carry it at this moment due to its shocked state. Would one of these other units carry this other capacitor?" Assuming he receives an affirmative, he hands it to the man, and runs on, newly renewed and rejuvenated.

Miraqariftsky

2013-01-25, 02:58 PM

The remaining Black Crabber staggers from the shotgun blast, groaning as the scattershot still batters his bones beneath his armour. Gasping, he begins to gloat and laugh at his success and survival...

...and then chokes on his overconfidence as he sees Marcus line up another shot, Lumen behind him already scrambling for a replacement weapon. Just as Marcus pulls the trigger, the Black Crabber trips on a severed arm littering the street and falls over backward. Shots that would have carved in his torso instead tear his leg apart in a burst of superheated gore. Fortunately for him, his heart gives out before his death throes could scream the Agents' ears off.

~~~

Half the central lift's roof section creaks then gives way with a colossal crash, the broken metal sheet crumpling under the weight of Britanov's requisitioned Lawmaster, the armoured Arbites motorbike rolling off just as the groaning lift stops at the next deck. The lift having gotten Wulfgar to a deck now ringing with screams and wafting with gunsmoke faster than he would have if he had sprinted down several flights of stairs, he breaks off after Britanov, his beast-like running almost keeping pace with his captain's street vehicle.

~~~

On the other side of the lift, the mercenaries reflexively back up against the wall, clutching onto handholds and railings when the armoured lawman bursts through--- and past... as well as his sword-toting shadow.

They barely hold their fire at Kaarli's request, heaving sighs of relief as they get off the now-rickety lift and onto the relative solidity of the next deck. Sergeant Rochelle has the stony face of a trooper still fully prepared to go through with something despite her sudden doubts. Jordan, young buck of a Metallican that he is, had only ever seen Arbites--- and despite Kaarli's cover, Alexei still fits the iconic image to the letter--- in official upliftment holovids and the machinegun-toting lad stands in slack-jawed awe. Slagger's hand are white about the meathammer scattergun that he carries, his suddenly dry mouth muttering a stream of near-incomprehensible invectives. The otherwise silent Jim simply breathes, "It's him. Magnagorsk, it's HIM!"

~~~

Onboard the Lawmaster as it speeds down the cargo-lanes, its machine-spirit has already patched into the ship's internal sensor net, giving an approximate feel of the immediate area. A live pict-feed shows the two young Agents, bleeding but unbowed, fighting back to back, the street around them littered with dead gangers with just one last immediate threat left. Another couple of angles show two other surviving gangers--- Black Crab from the Bilge Holds, if there was any stock to the cacophony of comms-signals that Britanov and Wulfgar have been intercepting. They skulk under cover behind street corners. One of them seems to be steeling his nerves for another go, then goes down after his legs are riddled with a burst of high-cal AP-slugs. The other breaks and runs. Toggling to a view of a tac-map of the area, Britanov also sees a security squad double-timing for the killzone, led by a scanner-blip labeled as "AdMech-Inq?/Intr?".

~~~

++DECK 4, SECTOR 4, GRID 4-4. CARGO: FREIGHT/ECONOMY-CLASS PASSENGERS. FREIGHT: BAGGAGE, SPECIAL DELIVERIES.
++FEED YIELDS: LIST: BILGE GANG: NAME: "BLACK CRAB".
ARMAMENT/S: STANDARD SHIPBOARD WEAPONRY
++CRIMES: ILLEGAL ORGANIZATION, ILLEGAL POSSESSION [UPGRADES, WEAPONS, DRUGS], HERESY, MURDER [IMPERIAL CITIZEN/S], MURDER [THRONE AGENT/S] KIDNAPPING, ATTEMPTED MURDER, ASSAULT, TAMPERING [MAINTENANCE SHAFT/S]
++AS ORDERED, SITREP: DONE.
++NEGATIVE. UNITS ADVISED AGAINST: OVERPENETRATIVE WEAPONSFIRE: RISK: VOID/WARP EXPOSURE AND SUBSEQUENT SHIP DAMAGE/DESTRUCTION.
++QUERY: CARRYING ONLY? AFFIRMATIVE. COMPLYING.

Comes the conglomerate electronic reply of the uplinked troopers behind him.

Presently, coming 'round the bend, the streets echo once more with shots and screams, the crate-walls flaring with muzzle-flashes.

~~~

Sarah sprints into the scene, leaving a trail of hot brass as the breath rasps in her throat from heaving lungs. The hunkered ganger spots her coming and levels his auto at her as well.

Her shots rip into his legs just as his finger spasms on the trigger, sending frangible rounds screaming down the street, some of the wild shots spanking and sparking off the steel of deck and walls. One cuts a hank of hair from close by her left ear.

Sarah, tries to turn off into a sidestreet to evade the incoming fusillade while keeping her own barrage on target but her charge's momentum is far too great...

...and she crashes against the side of a container van, slowly sliding off, her nose bleeding, her vision swimming and a great throbbing bump burning on her forehead.

~~~

Over with Marcus, Agent Lumen utters a ragged "...hff-hff... well-done, sir. Incoming contacts. They're... with--- hff-hff--- you, sir?"

Her own wounds forgotten for now, finger caressing the trigger of a looted Irontalon autopistol, she presses the muzzle against the tentacle-mustached mutant whose legs were gristled by Sarah's shooting. "In the name of Him on Terra, don't give me regret taking you in for questioning."

~~~

The gangers' earlier speaker and presumably equivalent of squad leader, with his back pressed against a cross-street's crate-stack for cover, groans as his mutants and men are mercilessly mown down. He groans as he clutches his still-bleeding arm-stump and takes off running...

...running blindly away until he collides with something hard, something moving, something clanking, something cursing. Stumbling back, reeling against a nearby alley, he tries to draw a holdout, only to collide once more against that shadow. His eyes are wide with terror, forgotten prayers to the Voidfather tumbling from the forked tongue behind cracked lips.

Yyyyyyeah. Told ye he'd bump into Kaeli.

LeSwordfish

2013-01-25, 03:33 PM

"Wait, who?"

Kaarli paused, glancing between the mercenary and the captain. "He's who?"

The gunfire seemed to have abated, but that was still not necessarily a good sign. Hammer at the ready, Kaarli continued to jog toward the gunfire, glancing back at Jim as she ran.

Strawberries

2013-01-25, 03:57 PM

Marcus looks like he can't believe that the combat is over, and that they have actually survived. Slowly, he brings his left hand to his comm-bead, to broadcast his status to the others - he still can't feel his right arm. "Agent Marcus Lumen, reporting. Th-threat has been eliminated." Now that the danger is over, his voice is shaking. "We... still require medical assistance. Broadcasting position."

For a couple of seconds, he wonders who's the 'sir' the other Agent's addressing, before he realises she actually means him. He hopes the approaching contacts are hill cellmates: he doesn't think they'll be able to survive another shootout, and they're barely in condition to run. "Agent...Lumen" Lumen? he wonders, only now fully registering what her surname is "Stand down, you are wounded. Don't exert yourself - help is on its way." Hopefully. He trains his own gun on the wounded mutant.

((From what I understood of te scene, it doesn't seem unreasonable to assume he hasn't seen Sarah, yet. Also, re: the passive scanning thing, should any of you guys's characters have any surface thoughts that you want Marcus to pick up, feel free to throw them at me. :smallsmile: Not when Britanov's near, though.))

bluntpencil

2013-01-25, 04:03 PM

The Captain barks at everyone around him,
"Stand down, tha lot of you!"
He knows that he isn't subtle enough to pretend not to know the folk he was sent with, but no point in revealing that to everyone either.

He looks around, and notices that some of the injured enemies aren't quite dead. He points at Marcus and his new contact,
"Relinquish your mutant unto tha Adeptus Arbites. You may await first aid after tha Law has its prisoner."He dismounts the motorcycle quite some distance from Marcus, knowing that he will affect his psychic powers. His shotgun is drawn, but pointed at the mutant prisoner, the red dot sight centred on his... its... chest.

More torture coming up, I think! :/

Strawberries

2013-01-25, 04:18 PM

Marcus startles, badly, at Alexei's shout... more for the man's sheer presence than because of the volume. Again, that impression of something fundamentally wrong approaching, and again the sensation of physical pain, made much worse by the fact that he's already wounded... and it's then that Marcus remembers the other Agent: she's a psyker too, and she's in way worse shape than him... she doesn't need other pain on top of it.

"STAND BACK!" he shouts, without thinking or realising that he's speaking to his commanding officer till it's too late. "Sir. Please." he tries to amend. His gun, however, remains pointed on the mutant.

Just for the hell of it, I'll roll Intimidation. [roll0] vs 14. Let's see if he sounds scary or just frightned when he shouts. I'd imagine the latter, but you never know. :smalltongue:

EDIT: HEY! :smalleek: Now, I don't expect it to work to Intimidate Britanov... but at least, that means that that shout had a LITTLE tone of authority in it.:smalltongue:

bluntpencil

2013-01-25, 04:29 PM

The Arbitrator takes a step back and lowers his voice...
"Do what you need ta do... Deputy..." He'd be having words with the boy later, aye, but now he looked like he knew his drill. And besides, he was a psyker, and maybe crazy enough to shoot him. No point getting into a shooting match with your own team, after all... right?

His shotgun swivels behind his shield, its red dot slowly tracking the ground beneath each spectator's feet. He's careful not to point it at anyone, but makes sure that everyone knows to keep their distance.

Henry the 57th

2013-01-25, 04:44 PM

Kaeli arrives just in time to observe one of the scum running. Running into her, that is. She rolls with the movement easily enough, and so keeps her balance and her feet.

Then the idiot hits her again. Ow. She clenches her teeth. Throne, he's clumsy. She recovers rapidly, leveling her flamer mere inches from his face.

"Drop your weapon and hands in the air! Anything else and I'll burn you to ash!"

Readied Action: If he does anything except drop the weapon and submit meekly, he gets a full burst of flame in the face from point-blank.

DaedalusMkV

2013-01-25, 04:46 PM

Wulfgar sprints up a few moments later, disappointed at being robbed of a fight. He takes up position at Britanov's shoulder, taking on the role of enforcer with Yarach absent, sword still in its sheath... Until he notices the... Thing at Marcus' feet. In an instant he takes two steps forwards and his gleaming long sword is in hand and held at rest at his side. "Unclean filth... That creature is a tumor on the human race. It should be cut away, now, before its taint can spread." While the Assassin makes no further hostile moves, his hateful, unflinching glare makes it very clear that he wants nothing more than to cut the offending mutant into small pieces.

bluntpencil

2013-01-25, 04:50 PM

"In time, Deputy. It will beg for such release soon enough." mutters Britanov quietly, indicating that Wulfgar should stand down, for a short time at least. Simple death was too good for such filth, especially those that would attempt to murder servants of the Throne.

DaedalusMkV

2013-01-25, 04:56 PM

With a growl the First Blade steps back, returning his sword to its half-concealed sheath with a flourish, then replies in his own quiet whisper. "Very well. But this one dies by my blade, Captain. It is clear that an Offering must be made, soon, and I would rather not have to roam this cavern-ship looking for another so suitable." He continues to stare at the mutant with hate-filled eyes, though he's willing to follow orders for now.

Strawberries

2013-01-25, 05:00 PM

"I just meant... it's..." the shouting had been instinctive, a way to spare the other agent further pain. Now Marcus looks like he doesn't know what to say. "I... w-we will relinquish the prisoner to the Arbites, sir. Just... n-not you, sir. Please don't come any closer." He looks at Kaarli as if asking for help. She is the one that seems less hostile. "Agent Lumen is with the I-Imperial Inquisition. She requires immediate assistance".

bluntpencil

2013-01-25, 05:09 PM

"Understood, Wulfgar." Creepy bastard, that Wulfgar was. Offering? What the hell was he on about? That was some screwy crap. Even in Volg that would turn heads, it would...

Shooting folk because they had that odd dirty smell. Mysteriously mangled bodies. Not sleeping because, if you did, the monsters might get you. That was all normal. Offering up dead mutants to the Emperor? Something off there. He'd be asking the preacher-woman about that one.

Britanov shakes his head a little, clearing his thoughts, then gestures at the mutant with his chin, as he works out that the psyker doesn't want him too close. Maybe those bullet wounds were why?
"Wulfgar, fancy grabbin' tha freak? Don't break too many bones. I've questions fer it."

Urist

2013-01-25, 10:09 PM

Yarach acknowledges the requests with a blurt of binary, and continues his run towards the hold. His senses still scrambled, he nonetheless hears gunfire, and curses, quietly "Damn those units circuit boards! If those units have hurt any of List:Hounds..."

As he arrives on the scene, he sees the standoff with the still-living mutant, and steps in, raising his voice to be heard.

"
"Unit:Lieutenant-Enginseer Yarach, reporting, heading Ship Security Group Alpha. Are all hostiles neutralized, and can these units offer assistance, Arbitrators?"

Maybe he could avoid blowing the rest of the Agent's cover, even if his had been...

ellna

2013-01-26, 04:26 AM

Sarah crashes into the side of the container van. Blood trickles down from her nose and she groggily licks it, staining her teeth with blood, as she staggers back to her feet. Clutching the bottle to her chest and using the container stacks for support she retreats back, down into the side street she had earlier missed in lue of the short stop. The gunfire had stopped, maybe she was too late. Was Marcus already dead....

No. Sarah could hear them, talking now. Also the noise of others. Sarah kept walking away from the scene, smiling. She stopped to catch her breath and slid down the container stack. Sarah flicked the comm on her ear, messaging Marcus. "Assistance provided, I'm still up. Buzz me if you need any more help. I heard the others and others what is going on?"

Sarah set the bottle and her gun down and sighed, that run had been exhausting. Her finger touched the hair that been shot from her head. If he had been a better shot she would be dead now. For a psyker. Sarah's grin faded and a morose look appeared on her face.

Strawberries

2013-01-26, 05:58 AM

With the captain that, thank the Emperor, has decided to not come any nearer, and all the other people entering the scene, all of them with some sort of weapon pointed to the mutant, Marcus finally lowers his gun and steps uncertainly back, close to the wounded girl, supporting her and trying to get her what little help he can with her wounds.

"Assistance provided" Sarah's comm reaches him. Marcus frowns in confusion for a moment, then he mentally replays the last seconds of the battle in his head. The burst of fire that had incapacitated the mutant hadn't been fired by agent Lumen: the angle was wrong. And... the sensations and fragments of thoughts that he had picked up and ignored because he was too occupied with trying not to get killed... Marcus shudders slightly at the memory of the last image - the one with his body lying in a pool of blood, and the sensation of...satisfaction? Relief? That had accompanied it. But nonetheless, the woman had answered his distress call and actually helped... and is offering to do that again. "Thank you, ma'am." he answers, quietly but sincerely. "Uhm... the situation appears to be under control, ma'am. The Arbitrators and the Ship Security are here."

@ Nexus, not that I'm trying to do anything inappropriate with that psyker girl :smalltongue:... but if he has the chance while helping her, he'll try to get a look a bit below her right collarbone...see if she is branded as well. That'll put his mind a bit more at ease.

ellna

2013-01-26, 07:14 AM

"The Arbitrators and the Ship Security are here."

Sarah stood shakily and began retracing her steps back to the bar. Her feet growing more confident with each step. After a brief walk that led her back to the service duct she had dropped down, she paused. It didn't sit right. Sarah holstered her pistol and took out Amadeus from his nest. The solitary bottle replacing it. With a sigh she turned back indecisively and began to walk around the crate stacks looking for something. Something out of place. If nothing else she could stay close to Marcus until she was sure the danger had passed. As she walked she mumbled softly, to a slight tune.

Sarah walks the perimeter and looks for... something.

Awareness Vs 53(Sight) or 43(Other Senses):[roll0]

LeSwordfish

2013-01-26, 07:33 AM

Kaarli rushed forward, letting her hammer drop to the ground, giving the mutant a wide berth. She helped the woman off Marcus' arm, and moved her over to sit by one of the containers, eyes running over her to check for injuries, bedside manner coming back by instinct. "It's alright, you'll be alright. Sit down, stay calm, it's not that bad."

How many times had she done this, she wondered. Followed the gunfire to a street of bleeding bodies, only some of whom could be saved? Even on a voidship, surrounded by imperial agents, it worked out the same...

She looked up at the group of acolytes and mercenaries. "Is anyone medically trained? She's hurt, and so is Lumen."

bluntpencil

2013-01-26, 08:30 AM

"Where tha hell is Lupus? He's a frickin' doctor," mutters the Captain into the sub-vocal unit communications. Where was the damned medic? This was his job. Fixing people wasn't Alexei's job. Breaking people was.

Miraqariftsky

2013-01-26, 01:33 PM

The bleeding filth at Kaeli's feet freezes, falls silent. For a long moment he holds still. Too still. Expired and dead or merely hesitating?

And then he stirs, slowly getting to his feet. His eyes are those of a desperate man. The mania in his eyes coalesces into a strange, resigned calmness...

...then lunges at Kaeli. The raggedly truncated right arm, its tattoos indistinguishable from its bleeding, lashes out, spattering blood in a vain hope to extinguish the flamer's pilot light or temporarily blind the Sister of Battle, but misses horribly. The other hand's finger is already clamped tight on the trigger, already spraying bullets while he brings it up to bear, scoring the deck-plating, ricocheting off walls and scarring the Sister's greaves.

And then Kaeli pulls the trigger...

Suicide By Cop Throne Agent.

I do believe you wanted this, yes?
Temporary license, the death-scene's yours.

~~~

Really! I don't actually have a superstition or grudge regarding the Number Four. Never truly intended this place's designation to be 4/4/4-4.

Meanwhile, back at Deck Four, Sector Four, Grid Four-Four, when Alexei strides into the scene, Agent Lumen reels, groaning. Her good arm brings the looted pistol up, the scarred and stubbly jaw of the Volgite Arbite square in her sights. Then slowly, forcibly lowers it. One corner of her mouth jerks in a brief, wide smirk. "Sir. Sorry. Reflex. Him on Terra be praised."

She raises a missing eyebrow at Marcus, flicks her gaze towards Alexei, then gives a curt nod.

The gun down, she tries flicking on the safety, only to find that whichever ganger she'd seized the replacement weapon from, they had modded it, removing the fire selector's safety setting. "What the---? Hgghh..."

Before she could do anything further, her knees give way and she sags into Marcus' arms. Sergeant Rochelle rushes over and helps the two down.

Jordan seems to be idly tracking Alexei with his shoulderstrapped heavy stubber while his eyes track Kaarli and now Lumen.

Slagger gives the younger sellsteel another slap upside the head, getting down to help. The stout trooper, the bluehaired officer and the preacher-woman, together with the help of a battered old Guard-issue medikit, a pair of combat knives and a rotgut flask, set about efficiently removing articles of clothing, cleaning wounds and setting bones.

Once they're done, they sit back and pass the flask around. "Finger-frag!" Suddenly, the merc Sergeant curses snatching the ganger's gun from Lumen's hand. She quickly unloads the clip, carefully racks the slide and takes out the round already chambered, then dry-fires the weapon. If Kaarli asks, she'd readily volunteer, "What? Surviving a war ain't just knowin' how, when and where to shoot. Here, care for a shot? I call it the Westminster Jackboot, brewed it meself."

Setting the lot aside, with a grimace of distaste, she returns Lumen's nod as the bald woman groans awake. Lumen smiles, taps the dull green slabs of synthicast around her wounds and flashes a half-Aquila salute--- an Inquisitorial brand clearly evident on her palm--- with her good hand in thanks, then reaches over, smirks and gives Marcus a flick on his own hard-patched wounds.

Meanwhile the team of redshirts in Yarach's wake take stock of the situation and file out into the cross-streets to secure the perimeter. Lowly though they may be, they know their jobs well enough and seem to be savvy enough to get an inkling of something that may well be dangerously more than what it seems.

The remaining POW seems entirely compliant now, even his writhing tendrils have quieted down. A quick and tight wrapping of rags seems to have served well enough as both tourniquet and bandaging... More such bandages serve as restraints. That done, Jim retreats with his typical silence, betraying only a bit of his shudder in Britanov's presence. A deep frown creases the scarred soldier's otherwise stoic face as he listens to Wulfgar's zealotry.

Henry the 57th

2013-01-26, 02:51 PM

Kalei smiles as the fool lunges at her. I didn't really want him to live.

Kaeli's smile grows as she pulls the trigger of her flamer, and a poisonous, burning solution sprays out, engulfing the man in flame. He screams as his clothing and skin rapidly catch fire. He screams even more as his clothing begins to melt onto his already tortured skin. His weapon clatters to the ground as he falls to his knees, screaming like one of the damned. Which of course he is.

Perhaps the Emperor has a small amount of mercy even for a fool and traitor such as this wretch. What else might explain the fact that the highly lethal fumes enter his lungs and he falls flat, dead, only just before his skin starts to melt away? Kaeli leaves his corpse where it lies to burn. Pausimg only to retrieve the man's weapon, Kaeli walks away as his rapidly-blackening muscles begin to fall off, exposing bone.

I loot his weapon. What do I win?

Strawberries

2013-01-27, 05:13 AM

"Thank you sirs. Ma'am" Marcus nods in thanks to the improvised doctors, trying to move his arm. Better. A bit. He answers the other Agent's teasing flick with a brief, strained smile of his own, before forcing himself to get on his feet and approaching Britanov and Wulfgar- who, he notices, has an Arbitrator badge of his own.

"Sir. Sirs. We are...prepared to... to help the Arbitrators with their enquiries, if needed." he states, carefully. If that's their cover story, he'll do his best to keep it, but it's still probably imperative that they hear agent Lumen's debriefing as soon as possible.

ellna

2013-01-27, 05:51 AM

Sarah continues to move through the sidestreets until she spots the patrolling shipboarders. Not wanting to overstay her welcome Sarah slinks away returning to her rusted alcove. She pulled out her duffel bag and using it as a pillow rested her head. Perhaps her comrades could avoid trouble until the world stopped spinning. The dried blood sticking to her face and tingeing her taste with the coppery tang. She rolls fretfully attempting to sleep...

Miraqariftsky

2013-01-28, 02:08 PM

The pilot-light glimmers through the dim corridor as Kaeli examines the traitor's gun by its flickering flame. The chassis is a wretched rust-ridden lot, but the interior, however, seems to be well-oiled chrome steel while pistol's grip is wrapped in strips of rubber.

As the Sister enters the now-bloodied Deck 4, Sector 4, Grid 4-4, she meets a pair of outbound redshirted maintenance crew, muttering about mops and scrubbing, bodybags and imbibing pirated programs when their shift ends. Lounging against a beam-and-chain restrained corner of a crate-stack, a rather young-faced but hard-eyed mercenary sucks at a smouldering lho-stick. Some cheap gutter-brand, by the particularly acrid scent... then again, what vices do the Sororita truly know to judge by?

Several more ganger and mutie corpses litter the street. Both civilian passengers and simple shipboard enforcers seem to have been savvy enough to stay out of the way when the bullets began to blaze.

Propped up against a wall is that psyker-boy and... a bald agent? The one whom Marcus had mentioned? Judging by the pattern in which the dead had fallen, it seems the two had been fleeing pursuit, ambushed a pair of vanguards, got cornered and fought back-to-back.

Sister Kaarli, together with a bluehaired woman looking to be in her early thirties or late twenties and a scarred, stout-bodied man--- both in armoured ex-Guard uniforms--- kick back from the two and begin packing away a weathered old field medic's kit. Weaponry evident on the two mercs are a heavy slug pistol and a tri-barreled combat shotgun similar to the one Alexei carries.

Speaking of whom, the man himself, together with a Wulfgar clad in a crisp new black-on-blue Arbitrator uniform seem to be carrying off a still-living piece of abhuman filth.

Close by to their left, the bloodspattered wall seems chewed up by high-cal armour-piercing rounds--- and none of the present combatants seems to bear that sort of weapon. Maybe that merc-captain's gun?

On the other corner of the intersection from the three Old Crew Acolytes who seem to have gravitated towards each other, another merc stands strangely silent, simply cradling his lasrifle and staring into space.

The Malfian gutter-rat and the Malfian scholar seem to be absent.

@Ellna

Sarah sleeps a fitful slumber, snatching a shivering smatchet of a dream of wading through an unending sewer system while rats large as a man's thigh chitter in the shadows.

When she awakes, several hours later, her dizziness has cleared...

...only for her to find that several other rag-clad sleepers' bodies clog the way out of her alcove.

Meanwhile, the bald Agent Lumen props her chin on her good hand, pearly flesh in stark contrast with the black of her coat--- now hanging open post-surgery and exposing the bloodstained hardened bodyglove beneath. "What he said" she says with a smile to Sister Kaarli and her two medicae-trained soldiers of fortune. "My thanks"

The two grunt and nod, passing around a flask of rotgut. Rochelle says "The Emperor protects. And provides. Ain't that so, Madre Kaarli?"

Agent Lumen looks across at Agent Marcus for a long moment, frowns, nods, then says matter-of-factly, "This your cell, huh?" Her tone then softens into one of geniune admiration, or at the least, appreciation. "An honour to be serving alongside veterans like the lot of you."

She then coqs an bare eyebrow and profers a hand. "I didn't catch your name, sir...?"

Henry the 57th

2013-01-28, 02:29 PM

"Is this the one you mentioned?" Kaeli asks, gesturing to the man near Marcus.

LeSwordfish

2013-01-28, 02:31 PM

"Quite right." Kaarli said pleasantly to Rochelle.

Throne-damned son of the warp, did she hear that? Tell me she didn't hear her call us a "cell"

"Perhaps you should get some rest." Kaarli said firmly. "Sargeant Rochelle, if our patient will be alright perhaps I could speak to my friends in confidence? It will only take a second."

Miraqariftsky

2013-01-28, 03:09 PM

"Chalice's cinders!" mutters the bald agent, the hand about to clamp over her mouth suddenly being diverted to scratch a nonexistent itch on her synthicast. "I meant, HELL, getting shot is feels like HELL, right?"

The Sergeant knowingly nods and rejoins Jim at his corner, then slinknig downstreet for good measure. Jordan ambles over, his earlier lustful stares now replaced with confusion, even dread on seeing the menacing figure of Sister Kaeli.

Strawberries

2013-01-28, 07:03 PM

Marcus shots the girl a warning glance when she mentions their 'cell'. "Yes, ma'am, she's the one I mentioned" he replies, a bit stiffly, to sister Kaeli, and then, turning to the girl again. "I...uhm... my name is Marcus. Marcus Lumen." He lifts the corner of his mouth in a slight hint of a smile at how that sounds. "Y-you may want to tell us your first name, as well." Otherwise, that's going to get pretty confusing pretty soon.

He follows the mercenaries with his gaze to make sure they are out of hearing range, then he lowers his voice and addresses both Kaarli and Kaeli "Ma'am. We should... handle agent Lumen's debriefing. Maybe we could... reconvene the cell to the Rhino, ma'am? The c-captain should be there as well." As daunting as the perspective sounds.

LeSwordfish

2013-01-29, 05:57 AM

Kaarli nodded. "Smart." She straightened up, and turned to Rochelle. "Sargeant, I'll meet you back at your base in an hour or so."

ellna

2013-01-29, 07:36 AM

Sarah awakes in the dingy alcove, a short and fitful slumber having cleared the warp fugue. She reaches up a taps the activation rune on her light illuminating the shambled mass of bodies that had also sort refuge in the rusted crevice. Sarah smiled and pondered what to do. Her hand stroked the handle of her pistol. Making her mind up Sarah sighed and pulled out a chunky data-slate from her satchel and after a bit more thought pulled out the vile rotgut as well, returning Amadeus to its crib. Biting the cork out she took a swig and started tapping away on the data slate.

Charm test:[roll0]

When they start to wake up Sarah will initiate conversation and attempt to get some food/share her booze. Nom.Nom. I'm up for fast forwarding as soon as the others have chatted.

bluntpencil

2013-01-29, 08:47 AM

Britanov, on seeing the man shiver at his presence, menacingly asks a question... in some sort of hive cant,
"Problem, son?"The others won't know, but this is Magnagorsk Hive Speak. Alexei has obviously worked out where this guy is from... or at least where he's been.

Urist

2013-01-29, 11:11 AM

Yarach turns to the security forces.

"This unit thanks these ones for their assistance in this matter. Please continue with investigations. This one wonders why these scum invested so much in this pursuit."

After, he makes his way to the officer on deck, and pulls him aside.

"Which of this ones commanding officers and troopers are aware of this units identity? This unit wishes to avoid the dissemination of file: Inquisitorial Remit over public networks. Would this one bring this unit to speak to this ones commanding officer?"

Has Yarach overcome his blinding pain? If not, is he able to retest to overcome it again?

Miraqariftsky

2013-01-29, 02:42 PM

An azure eyebrow rises but is soon covered by a lazy salute. "Wilco, madre. The Emperor protects." The Roughnecks withdraw amid whispers that are swiftly silenced by their CO.

Trailing behind the pack, holding rearguard, trooper Jim spins about at Alexei's hail. He comes stiffly but sharply to attention, rifle shouldered and saluting. Still, he can't suppress a shudder at being so close to him. "S-sir! Sir, no, sir! Or... yes, sir, heresy is always a problem, sir! Request permission to span the hand of the one who stuffed the thunderbolts back into those witches' arses, sir!"

Over with Yarach, the watch-captain he'd been directed to is one squint-eyed lantern-jawed fellow. Strangely unaugmented. He answers him, "Probably because that one" as he jerks his longarm's butt towards Agent Lumen, "either stole or killed something or someone of theirs. What? Payback. The Black Crab were a fresh-forged and coqqy gang. Had a couple more muties than the rest, even some groundpounders' hardware. Got too coqqy. These dead they have here's more'n half their known numbers."

He shrugs and says meaningfully, "Disseminate what?"

"Mother of chrome! Bleeding warp, you're not joking? Huh..." swears Agent Lumen at the coincidence of their similar names. "Lumen, Maria-Lydia... or Baldy. HAH-haha. Sorry. What do they call you, sir? Gunslinger? Ha-ha-ha, da... nah, sorry. Sir"

She frowns a bit, then raises two fingers to her lips as if holding a nonexistent lho-stick. She puckers her lips and blows, sending a stream of blue-grey smoke puffing out. It smells like a chapel's incense.

~~~

Once the Acolytes get to Sister Kaeli's chosen makeshift fortified shelter, they find the coaxial machinegun traversing and tracking their progress. When they get close enough for surer visual confirmation, the gun lets up.

Lore: War/Tech: +20 to those who've previously ridden in Rhino [or Leman Russ] AFVs previously.
To put it simply, this thing's a bit larger than standard. Rhino's passenger-space with a Russ' firepower.

OOC: I had "APC" in mind, but at the time while having to describe it, all I could remember was "taaaaaaank". So, there. Heh-heh-heh.

When the Acolytes cram themselves into the vehicle's passenger bay, a matted-haired greasy-tressed face pops up, or rather, down from the main turret-gunner's alcove. Terribly cheerful despite having no front teeth, the kid beams, waves an overlarge laspistol and says, "Deh Emprah pertecks!"

~~~

Meanwhile, in Sarah's little alcove, the first to stir is a soft-faced bowl-haired, frowning lad. His eyes squint through the shadows at the derelict container, looking at her by the faint glow of her 'slate.

His eyes stray from the bottle to the slate to her face, to the street outside, to their fellow shadow-dwellers, to her hands, quickly averting from her bag and Amadeus' case, to her hips then back to the eerie glow of the slate. He then averts his gaze and stares hard at the far wall.

"Morn, miss" he finally says.

bluntpencil

2013-01-29, 02:51 PM

Alexei roughly pats the soldier on the back. Hard to get troops like that one.
"Good answer. Ye'll go far, kid." It was weird having folk actually respect him. He was more used to fear. He had a terrifying reputation for doing utterly heinous things to those that betrayed Mankind... but, of course, some people respected that. They respected his brutality. They knew he was right; they knew that traitors should know fear.

Henry the 57th

2013-01-29, 03:40 PM

Kaeli smiles at the Kells as she appears. "Indeed He does. Did you watch my things for me?"

LeSwordfish

2013-01-29, 03:53 PM

Kaarli watched Jim as he left Britanov, and then put him to the back of her mind.

Following the others to- emperor's teeth, was that a rhino? Like the Adeptus used?- Kaarli settled herself into the remains of a chair and looked around with interest. Sometimes the Sororitas had visited the scholam when she was a girl, and while many of her companions had sat with the sisters and enjoyed the emperor's blessing she'd been desperate to join the sisters as they sparred, or to look inside the vehicles that had brought them there. She'd grown out of that, of course, although some of her fondest memories were shooting drills with Sister Nicollette.

She'd always imagined the vehicles having less rust, though.

When the child stuck her head in through the cupola Kaarli treated her to a smile. "Hello. Are you a guardsman?"

ellna

2013-01-29, 04:03 PM

"Morning yourself. I'm called Vlad. You know those folk?" Sarah motions to the other sleepers with the bottle. A pleasant smile sitting easily on her scarred face.

Strawberries

2013-01-29, 04:26 PM

Marcus watches half in surprise and half in alarm at Agent...Maria-Lydia's little display. "Agent Lumen" he says, almost sternly "You may want to keep that under control." Too young, his mind warns him again, and definitely too... careless. Something was definitely not right... nonetheless, as they move towards the designed shelter, it's Marcus that moves close to the young woman and lets her lean on him for support.

As they come in sight of the Rhino, Marcus seems prepared to start saying something, when he notices the gun, and, soon after, the child. "Ma'am?" he asks to sister Kaeli, as if asking for the permission to go ahead.

Urist

2013-01-29, 04:35 PM

Yarach takes a moment to comprehend the security agent's meaning, his literal mind almost prompting him to repeat his question. "This unit's ident-ah. This unit understands. Onto Query String 2: would this unit be able to obtain workshop space? Projects and repairs needed before landfall are high on this unit's priority list."

Miraqariftsky

2013-01-29, 11:42 PM

"M-Matthew" replies the bowl-cut young man with an uneasy smile. "Cah--- um. Sorry."

He shrugs, frowns a bit and says, "No. Well, yes. As far as fellow backholds passengers would know each other."

Coqqing his head, he then asks, "...the Impaler? Forgive me, but you don't look like the ancient warrior-king in old books and horror holovids."

~~~

The watch-captain scratches at his chin, squints even further and tells Yarach, "Ask the Enginarium crew. That, or, ask one of your fellow crap-commuters."

~~~

"I'm... just glad ta be alive, sir". The man's face twitches horribly, as if not knowing how to smile.

The otherwise stoic Jim goes ahead and ruins the moment by losing his composure and blurting out in a babble, "It's... it's not something a slagger forgets, sir. Me an' my mates were cram-jammed in a wrecked Chimera, heret-las and witchfire turning the hive inta cheese!"

He suddenly grabs Alexei by the shirtfront, eyes dilated and manic and... faraway. His breath came shallow as the one hand trembled uncontrollably. The tainted lasrifle swung unnoticed by its strap from his shoulder, its capacitor smoking from sheer close contact. "...i lost my gun. i slaggin' lost my gun. Smoking saints, they were everywhere. Magnagorsk, sweet smokin' Tholl, Magnagorsk. And then..."

And then something seems to snap back into place, most of the respect spasming and melting into the standard issue inexplicable terror and revulsion of most people. "...and then you. You. You were like a jam cleared."

"Unholy warpcrackers..." he mutters, looking at the mess he'd made of Britanov's uniform, then looks at his hands as if he'd just trawled them through an overflowing toilet. "Sorrysirsorrysir!" he gasps, rapid-fires salutes and triple-marches back to the already receding Roughnecks.

~~~

Blowing one last sweet-smelling smoke-ring, Maria folds her fingers and cuts off the power. "Yer not gunna tell on me, are you, sir?"

She smirks and mimes putting a gun to her head, clicking her thumb and letting her head hang. The humour is hangs thick in her words though Marcus could barely see her face. "Fergive the insubordination, but y'need to live a little, sir. I mean, Marcus. Sir. Sir Marcus. 'Only in death does duty end', yes--- but the Emperor didn't say we couldn't have fun along the way, eh?"

She does quiet down, though, once they get moving, the giddiness of survival giving way to weariness, readily accepting the support.

~~~

At the upgraded Rhino, Kells nods solemnly at Kaeli's query and points a grubby finger at a rat as thick around as a man's thigh, its head splattered by a lasbolt. "Dinner dirrent touch nonna yer stuff, ma'am."

She ponders the preacher's question more closely before replying, "Ooooonly guardin' dah Sizzer's stuff there, ma'am. Ain't no man's clear ye can sees."

Waving her long-ago looted weapon, she adds, "Deh only man 'ere's dis 'ere bad boy, yyyyyyeps."

Jerking her pot-helm at the hesitant Marcus, Kells asks, "Dah bugger der, izze a man? Looksa be guardin' shiny-freak derr."

Urist

2013-01-30, 12:04 AM

Yarach sketches a salute, finishing with the sign of the cog, and marches away. As he leaves, he sub vocalizes into his vox bead to Alexei:

"This one will join these ones shortly. Vox a location."

After, he plods towards the Enginarium, hoping to locate an Enginseer kind enough to lend him a workbench and some materials. On his way, he reclaims his Hellgun and capacitor, with muttered thanks and praises to the Machine God.

DaedalusMkV

2013-01-30, 12:40 AM

When the odd-seeming mercenary begins ranting Wulfgar drops the disgusting mutant he'd been helping the Captain move to their improvised stronghold, watching the confrontation through narrowed eyes. When the mercenary lunges forwards and grabs his designated superior Wulfgar draws his weapon and has it resting against the aggressor's neck within an instant. He hesitates as it seems that the mercenary intends no harm, and withdraws his weapon in time to not inadvertantly slice the boy's head off as he retreats. This is why I prefer to work alone... Too many complications and distractions with so many to look after. He keeps the thought silent, however. No need to antagonize his theoretical superior, even if he did have about as much subtlety as a Grox in a dinnerware repository. Distractions temporarily over with, he returns to assisting Alexei in moving the prisoner.

ellna

2013-01-30, 03:11 AM

"Yer, the Impaler. Well more of a nickname really. Earned through my job. So Mathew is it, good name. Do you got any food? See I've got some throat burner, but I've not found a good bite of grub yet." Sarah was a bit disheartened, she had expected the name to evoke a bit of fear, maybe respect, not confusion. Two years she had been gone from the world, had she been forgotten or maybe this boy had never heard of her. She mirrored the boys frown, just a cog in the machine of the imperium. Sarah's hand found its way to the cog at her neck, setting the slate down on her lap.

LeSwordfish

2013-01-30, 04:00 AM

"Well, good girl." Kaarli replied. "Can you go and guard the perimeter for us? Stop anyone sneaking up on us."

bluntpencil

2013-01-30, 08:20 AM

"Ye remember tha Gunmetallicus Regiments, Wulfgar? They fought hard, they did, did a fair job cleanin' up their town's good name..." says the Captain, as if Wulfgar hadn't even drawn his sword.

It was obvious the boy was from Gunmetal City, after all, which was interesting. This would be the third time he ended up in the same place as Alexei. The universe seemed to like coincidences...

Strawberries

2013-01-30, 02:55 PM

As soon as he's sure that the kid is out of hearing and seeing range, Marcus moves to stand in front of the bald agent, bringing his left hand up to unclasp his flak cloak. He fumbles a bit with the fastening, which are hard to get open with just one hand, but once he's got that, the rest of the gesture comes with the practiced ease of something that he's done plenty of times before: he brings his clothes down a bit and angles his neck to show her the brand of the Scolastica Psykana, right below his right collarbone, with the icon and the serial number that certify him a sanctioned psyker. "Agent Marcus Lumen, as I said, sanctioned psyker in the service Inquisitor Kutor Nar, of the Ordo Hereticus." It's obvious by his stance and tone that he expects her to do exactly the same. "You... have got a report to make, agent Lumen?"

Miraqariftsky

2013-02-01, 11:24 AM

Slowly, Yarach's cyber-synapses and biomechanicals normalize, the residual shock-agony drifting away. He arrives at Deck Four's enginarium linkup door--- a standard issue hydraulic-powered steel slabs blessed by the Omnissiah's skull-on-cog image.

Beside the door at the right-hand side are a console, a vox interface and a cyber-uplink port.

~~~

Alexei and Wulfgar eventually arrive back at their makeshift Arbites precinct, the moaning mutie ganger draped across the Lawmaster's armoured prow like a big-game hunter with a bagged beast.

He thuds wetly to the deck and immediately starts babbling incoherently when he comes face-to-gore with the remnants of the previous ganger who'd been tortured to death there.

~~~

“Um, thanks. If you don’t mind my saying so, you say your name is earned--- where from? You don’t have the look of some blueblood’s executioner retainer, and you don’t have any particular gang markings, nor do you have the distinctive swagger of somebody Guard or Arbites-trained, at least none that can be seen. You seem relatively clean, have a scent of sweat, gun-smoke, blood and… um, sorry to say, vomit? A ready piece of liquor, but lacking in food. Hmm. A bounty-hunter presently on the trail of her quarry?” Says Matthew, not yet looking at Sarah while he rummages through the rucksack at his feet.

He yawns, scratches at his well-trimmed bowl-cut hair, nods and mutters a “Eureka… um… you mind if I, ah, sit up with you?” as he brings out a couple of wrapped sandwiches and then a shiny thermos. He bundles the lot up and carefully shuffles over to her side, Amadeus’ case serving as a barrier--- and maybe as a makeshift table?

He passes her one of the paper-wrapped sandwiches--- long since lost its heat, a bit soggy, but still a scrumptious combination of half-toasted brown bread, scorched salt-and-peppered rendered meat patty choked with grilled cheese and rad-onions. The thermos’ lid, also serving as a cup, soon gently steams with black recaff.

If and when offered the rotgut, he looks as if he’s about to take it, then smiles and shakes his head. Right before opening his own sandwich, his hands twitch through the sign of the Aquila and he prays aloud, “Our Father who art on Terra / Hallowed be thy name, thy empire endureth / Thy will be done, on this and every world / We thank Thee for bread and breath and all sustenance / We beseech Thee, from temptation shield us / We beseech Thee, from the mutant, the heretic, the witch, the alien, the daemon--- / ---A morte perpetua / Domine, libra nos / Amen.”

~~~

"Wuddawarp's uh perri-merri-me-turd?" asks Kells before Kaarli gets to speak her request's latter part. "Oooooohhhh, that."

For a moment, she looks undecided, as if about to ask something else, then looks about the high-and-mighties about her, gives one upside-down nod, then scampers out of the vehicle, the turret's hatch clanging shut behind her.

Inside, the interior lamps glow a soothing green when presumably Kaeli had started up the engine to a gentle purr.

Agent Maria sits up against the cold steel of the hull, frowns and says stiffly, "Sir. Yes, sir." With the right arm in a medical cast and sling, she awkwardly shrugs off her flakweave greatcoat, sighing as it sloughs off. The hardened bodyglove beneath seems to be in a sorry state from battle damage, battered all over and the right sleeve having been cut off to allow access to the injured arm. She then unclips her suit’s ballistic coif and with her middle finger tugs down her suit’s collar, exposing the line of serial numbers and code-phrases of her sanctioning brand, forming a necklace of ink and scar under her collarbone.

Sitting at attention, eyes straight and hard, she says, “Agent Maria-Lydia Lumen, Sanctioned Psyker, in service to Inquisitor Astrid Skane, of the Ordo Hereticus. Reporting for duty. Sir. As ordered--- Cell’s primary objective was to find incognito passage to Malfi, investigate a cabal of nobles who might have gone beyond simply human, arms, antiquities and narco-smuggling. Preliminary reports indicated suspicion of warp-traffickers. Secondary objective, as informed by Inquisitor Nar, was the caution of, investigation and apprehension of suspected heretek weapons dealers anywhere along our route. Sir.”

Strawberries

2013-02-01, 03:27 PM

I don't need to roll forbidden lore to confirm she is who she says she is, do I? I suppose sanctioning brands should be easy to identify...

Marcus visibly relaxes when he has confirmation of the psyker girl's identity, to the point of addressing her the barest hint of a smile. He moves to stand beside her and picks up the report from where she has finished it, directing his words to both Kaeli and Kaarli. "I met agent Lumen during a recognition of the cargo halls, ma'am." His voice is low and carefully dispassioned. "I identified her as another psyker and operated on the assumption of her being a throne agent." He's not going to explain how, not if he's not pushed. Explaining what it means to get a feeling of what people are thinking is always difficult. "She asked for my assistance in guarding a package that her cell had secured from an heretical gang." He takes it out of his pocket and shows it to the two women, than continues "I voxed for assistance and tried to reach a safe location, but we were ambushed before we could get here, and forced into a firefight. We managed to overcome the resistance with the help of agent Haxta. Ma'am."

He finishes his report standing rigidly on attention, mimicking agent Maria's stance, and awaits the inevitable questions.

LeSwordfish

2013-02-01, 04:32 PM

Kaarli thumbed her microbead. "It'd be good if we could talk back at the rhinos. I have a proposition."

She then sat back, slightly uneasy with two psykers. "You secured a package. What package? Where is it now? What is it?"

Strawberries

2013-02-01, 07:25 PM

"I have it, ma'am." Marcus offers the lead casket to her, all the while maintaining his rigid attention posture. His arm and shoulder are hurting, but he ignores that. "There wasn't really time for me to inquiry about its nature. Sorry, ma'am. That is... that is why I asked to reconvene the cell in a safe location, ma'am."

ellna

2013-02-02, 09:55 AM

As Mathew talks, Sarah's hand sneaks towards her gun. She is nervous, he seems smart and as he points out the odour of vomit a heat flares in her cheeks. He rummages through his rucksack and arrives at the conclusion.

"A bounty-hunter presently on the trail of her quarry?”

Sarah smiles widely, guiltily snatching her hand away from the gun at her hip. He finds the goal of his search and Sarah makes herself busy deactivating the slate and sliding it into a compartment of Amadeus' hard case.

"A bounty hunter. Good guess, not currently hunting though. I earned the name on Malfi, headed back there now. There is always work to be found there. I hit the big time 'bout two years back, loaded my pockets with thrones from a lord's bounty. So I headed off Malfi to Scintilla to visit the grand cathedral. Well looks like I chose the wrong date to go for a trip, got stuck in gunmetal when the riots broke out. Took alot of scraping to get a ticket home. Darn warp ships. It ain't natural, I have to confess I lost my insides when we... transitioned? The bloods mine to, lost my balance knocked my head. Anyhow what about you, you got a story?"

"Mind?" Sarah waves around at the packed bodies. "Course not. Don't worry I don't bite, much."

Sarah takes the offered sandwich, ripping off the wrappings, and almost tucks into when Matthew begins to pray. She holds the soggy sandwich in her hand, inches from her open mouth, the smell of meat taunting her nose. She waits with her head bowed slightly until he finishes and unwraps his own. Once he begins to peel the wrapping from his own sandwich Sarah wolfs the morsel down, ignoring concerns such as chewing.

Having consumed the food, Sarah washes it down with a swig of the Rotgut. She then looks over to Matthew. "Thanks." She offers him some, conscious of her lack of some way to repay him. The bottle remains in her hand for a moment until it becomes clear that he has decided against it, she sets the bottle down and clasps his hand instead shaking it heartily.

"Well this trip will be a couple weeks, I'll need ta find some place that sells some nutrients. Don't suppose you know this ship's places. Haven't seen much of it yet, been a bit dizzy from the engines."

Urist

2013-02-02, 11:11 PM

Yarach, mindful of the terrible shock received earlier, kneels before the door, beginning the proper procedure to contact the spirit of the vox interface, as well as the console. The proper incantations having been recited, he opens a vox channel, and prepares to enter the information into the console if need be.

"Blessed be those who serve the Omnissiah, and the Machine Spirit which is the child of the Machine God. This unit desires communion with those of the Omnissiah's faithful. May this unit, Lieutenant Enginseer Yarach, passenger authorization code Y2K-AB-1033, enter?"

Miraqariftsky

2013-02-03, 02:30 PM

The vox-grille chirrups and clicks a string of Code as thick metal doors hiss open. Beyond is a short corridor with blinking pict-monitors and a gun-servitor at the end, the vat-slabbed cyborg's multi-barreled weapons system, sensor feeds and armour plating gleaming dully in the dim lighting.

This may not be the Navy, but that is no excuse for slack security, despite the inevitability of dreg-colonies and ganger-holes.

Reaching the end of the short interim passage, a voice crackles over the comms ++UNIT: ENGINSEER YARACH, NOT CREW, NOT BOARDER, THEREFORE PASSENGER, Y/N? STATE PURPOSE IN RESTRICTED AREA, BROTHER ENGINSEER?

~~~

Matthew consumes his own sandwich in relative silence as he listens to Sarah, taking sips of the recaff every so often, commiserating when she speaks of her ailments and smiles when she speaks of her fortune. At her mention of the "Grand Cathedral" there is a shudder of recognition and familiarity that courses through his face which he quickly quells.

A downturned smile spreads across his face as he says, "The, um, Grand Cathedral? Over in Tarsus? That was my hometown."

He nods as he says, "How're you feeling now? May I... walk you updeck to the Cantina later?"

~~~

The lead-lined box, one handspan by one handspan, emerges from Marcus' coat. The panelling is unadorned except for an etching of a hammer-on-skull motif. The brass locks come undone easily enough.

Just before anybody might open it, Agent Maria hisses, "Ma'am? Are you sure you want to open that? The den we'd taken it from, most were driven mad on simply seeing the thing inside."

bluntpencil

2013-02-03, 03:50 PM

"Right, mutie, ye made a hella big mistake wi' yer li'l show earlier..." Britanov doesn't exactly find this enjoyable, but he finds the process of interrogation far less bothersome than normal folks. Hell, it was good they got one alive. Even if this guy had nothing to do with a conspiracy against Inquisitorial agents, a show of overwhelming force would get the filth on this ship into line for a while.
"...now... who's yer boss? Where yer pals hidin'? Don't make me ask twice, 'cause ye won't enjoy it... but I will..."At this point, of course, Alexei menaces the captive mutant with a scary looking blade...

Interrogation
[roll0] That's a success, taking the excruciator kit into account.

LeSwordfish

2013-02-04, 02:14 AM

Kaarli paused, and clicked the lid back down, before closing the catches. "I'm not that curious." She handed it back to Maria, feeling suddenly exhausted and out of her depth.

Strawberries

2013-02-04, 01:28 PM

The young psyker frowns, eyes snapping for a moment towards Kaarli. For a second he looks like he's about to say something to her, then he remembers sister Kaeli's presence and shuts up, visibly diverting his attention to Agent Maria near him.

"Agent Lumen" he says, softly, noting how tense she is and not wanting to add to her nervousness. "Do you have any...contact, on Malfi? Anyone that will be able to deal with the package and your debriefing? We will be able to escort you there, but..." He seems to realise too late that he's taking a decision on the cell's course of action without consulting anyone, and he stops abruptly, turning again towards Kaarli and Kaeli "I mean, if that is acceptable for you, m-ma'am"

LeSwordfish

2013-02-04, 01:44 PM

"We're going to Malfi already, we could probably drop her off somewhere." Kaarli rationalised. "Though the others might object more."

Urist

2013-02-04, 10:11 PM

Yarach smiles at the security of the facility. This vessel truly was taking no chances, were they? Smart, considering the scum that infested their holds. He replies over the vox:

"THIS UNIT'S PURPOSE:OBTAINING REPAIR FACILITIES/WORKSHOP ZONES. ADDITIONAL PURPOSE:PAYING RESPECT TO THIS VESSEL'S MACHINE SPIRIT AND THIS UNIT'S FELLOWS. THIS UNIT:PASSENGER. AUTHORIZED, HOWEVER, BY WATCH-CAPTAIN. MAY THIS UNIT PROCEED?"

ellna

2013-02-07, 01:19 PM

Sarah smiles warmly at Matthew. She tugs at the cog around her neck and bites her lip. She brushes the crumbs of her rags. "You got to see the Grand Cathedral? Heh. I never got to see it what was it like? I saw a couple of picts, but they were pretty terrible. Got skinned by the hawker too."

Sarah smiles again flashing her teeth. "Sure. I would be happy to, I need to stretch my legs anyway."

Sarah happily spends her time on the journey, barring any further disruptions, drinking her way into oblivion. Although she attempts to spend a large portion of her time with Matthew and any others she might befriend. She does this usually early in the cycle before she ends up back at the bar spending man-stoppers for cheap rotgut.

~~~~~~~~~

bluntpencil

2013-02-14, 04:59 PM

Some time later...

The interrogation takes hours, with Alexei occasionally taking a break to allow the mutie scum some respite, to prevent him going mad or passing out on account of extreme trauma.

To be brutally honest, he was getting it easy, because he was a weak spacer mutant, not a Volg chem-freak. They needed some real extreme dentistry to get them talking. The trick there was doing enough painful damage to their teeth to make them offer up information, but not doing so much that you left them unable to speak.

As he takes a break, he receives an odd request from his Lieutenant, Yarach. Sarah apparently wanted to 'upgrade' his shock maul. The Captain, of course, doesn't trust her. Still, Yarach could be relied upon to check up on things. He had had his back for years now, and not once had he faltered, praise the frickin' Omnissiah.
"Aight, make sure she doesn't rig it ta explode."Eventually, the Lieutenant returns with his weapon looking much more, well, intimidating and bulky, with an overcharged power source connected to its more weighty mace flanges. The Captain merely grunts and nods, not needing to ask Yarach if there were any problems. If there were, he would say so, after all.

Miraqariftsky

2013-03-06, 12:38 AM

Shift-Cycle One:

At Alexei’s makeshift precinct, the worm-faced mutie expired quickly, but not before making a full confession. It seems that he himself was the boss of the Black Crab Gang.

He’d hit it big after going rockside on Scintilla, having nicked the private stash of Siballan boss fleeing the Imperial purges. Tapping the power of a piece of heretek daemon-shard infused weaponry much similar to the ones that had become common fare in the hands of this most recent crop of rebel scum, he’d subjugated the rest of the bilge-dwellers and crap-passengers and cargo-tribesfolk…

…got coqqy when some rocksiders had come to ostensibly pay their respects to Sevensie’s ganglord. They took them in after having them whack one of their remaining rival gangs as proof of skill and intent. He even had some fun with that baldy bitch. She bit his balls off and snatched the Daemon-Gun. He tripped her as she fled, the case flew open, and his gang, worthless slab-jacks to the man, lost their marbles.

They caught the cogboy before he could get too far away and ripped him down to bone and iron. They caught the gunslinger at the lift-shaft. He took a good few with him. Damn them Orthlackers. Then they caught up with that bald bitch and her friend. The rest was history.

The boy Matthew had been effusive at Sarah’s apparent enthusiasm, but their neighbours had begun waking from their rag-wave slumber. One was a cheapskate merchant from downtown Sibellus. Another was a blade-jester from Ambulon hoping to make it good in Landunder. There was another family, mostly wearing plastek stitch-suits. Half a dozen of them, sheltering where they could, simple scav-scummers.

At the tank, before Sister Kaarli could move to enact further care on the stricken Agent Maria, she’d apparently fallen asleep on Marcus’ shoulder, snoring softly, but not before mentioning a mumbled “T’rone A’nt ‘Magg’don. Mid’ive. Curr’nt face… PI Mart’a D’lorsssshhhh-zzzzzzzz…”. With a slight snicker, she’d left the two alone while Sister Kaeli saw to some matters of the tank’s maintenance.

Outside, Kaarli had sat herself down to Kells’ level and began to talk to her as would a counselor or friend or mother, even bringing out some sweetmeats from a ration-pack. Kells took the sweets, yes, but asked in enthusiastic curiousity of the Sinophian’s pistol and other weapons.

Shift-Cycle Three:

The corridor beside the tank clattered with spent brass and scorched ration-cans. Kells lay on her stomach on a cold slab of armour plate, the laspistol seeming as large as a carbine in her smaller hands. Sister Kaeli crouched beside her, giving pointers on proper shooting, sharing tales of her own younger days as a novice at Valon Urr’s schola progenium. The void-girl at the veteran Sister’s knee, her face unseen, smiled and shuddered as she listened, drawing a bead on yet another can…

Elsewhere, at the Roughnecks’ little patch of deck, the two sanctioned psykers hung out, having their mending wounds examined, cleaned and re-bound. Slagger helped Rochelle out however he could but it was clear that both he and Jordan were uneasy around the two warp-users. Sister Kaarli lent her assistance, learning from the medicae-trained veteran Guardswoman, adding to her previous knowledge of treating slum-dwellers’ hurts. Seeing her de-facto handler busy, Agent Maria slunk off to smoke an intangible warpcrafted cigar. Jordan who’d followed her partly out of suspicion and partly out of lustful intention, ended up giving her one of his recoil gloves and in trade, took some hits from her glowing fingers…

Driven to protect and enforce the Lex Imperia even in as humble a ship as this, Britanov had strung up a double layer of shields across the street outside his makeshift precinct as a palisade. Seeing as for most of the time, Yarach had something he was working on at the ship’s enginarium, he took it upon himself to perform maintenance on his requisitioned reappropriated Lawmaster.

The fidgeting Matthew took Sarah up to the regular decks’ mess hall as she’d asked. It was far cleaner there and quieter than the cantinas of the cargo holds.

Shift-Cycle Eight:

Sometimes during the fourth shipboard day, power started fluctuating, illuminators fizzling on and off, ventilation systems coughing and sputtering intermittently. Some intermodule doors refused to open unless manually forced. The intervox rasped and hissed with phantom mutterings.

Father Voon, the local deranged but well-meaning preacher went into froth-mouthed paroxysms of exhortation. Sister Kaarli stepped in to fill his void when he collapsed after overexerting his floor-bearded self.

The red-robed security and maintenance crew were hard-pressed as they were to restore systems, much less enforce safety. People took to their crate-shelters, huddling in the dubious safety of numbers, campfire oil-barrels and feverish prayers, clutching loved ones and crowbars, wrenches and whatever garage-guns they were able to scrounge or scrap together.

Then, the disappearances began. A redshirt crewman… the barkeep of the Greasy Gasket Cantina… two of Kells’ former gang… a nursing void-mother…

The remaining Acolytes knew what had to be done. Making sure that her newfound flock were in the brutally safe hands of Alexei, Rochelle and company, Sister Kaarli relocated to the tank at Kaeli’s request, there not only to keep the Sororitas vehicle secure but also to care for Kells and the two injured agents.

Being the quietest and the quickest of the lot, Sister Kaeli and Brother Wulfgar took off to track down what she was sure was a growing infestation of warpspawn. Wulfgar reminded her that Alexei’s abilities would be most useful on such an errand but she had countered that it combat effectiveness would be worth naught if their prey would hear or otherwise sense him coming from far off.

Following directions that she had gleaned from Kells’ stories, Kaeli and Wulfgar delved into the Sevensie’s shadow-decks and bilge-holds, all the while hearing sounds of clicking and hissing and slithering. And all the while a strange and unnatural stench was growing and reeking. And all the while there was a dripping… dripping… dripping…

And then they came, a misshapen mob moving with jerking twitches of warped limbs that nevertheless granted them inhuman speed. Neither dead nor alive, their eyes aglow with a sickly green light, needle fangs and claws dripping corrosive venom.

The Brother of the Emperor’s Light and the Sister Holy Hellhound were backed up against each other as the mutant mob boiled out of lightless shadow and derelict steel. Though surrounded theirs was not the coward’s lot. Fearless they leapt into the fray. Kaeli’s flamer set wave on wave of foes screaming ablaze… Yet still they came, only to be dispatched by Wulfgar’s singular strokes that rent asunder, smoking with bloody execution and holy castigation from the wards etched into his sword’s sacred steel.

Something with the bulk of a grox and the bestial grace of a felidae magni bounded through the ranks of the mob, bowling lesser beasts aside, hurling Wulfgar over its back and into the thick of the warptainted throng. It then pounced on Kaeli as she struggled to reload. It slammed her to the deck, triple-jointed jaws snapping at her face, claws gouging at her armour. Flamer fallen, she jammed one gauntleted fist down its gullet, braving the pain long enough to reach for her bolter, stick its penance-blade into the beast’s gut and eviscerate it with a point blank burst…

…only for another beast’s slime-slicked tentacle to wrap around her neck, hauling her back, strangling. Twin flashes of silvered steel streaked by her ears, snipping off singular strands of her white hair then whirling past, driving deep into pustulent mutant flesh. Wulfgar burst from the scrum of scrambling scum, slashing off chunks of warped flesh and bone with every breath even as Kaeli, dripping with ichor, gasped for breath, choking, stabbing backwards with her bayonet in futile rage while incongruously still-human hands clamped about her limbs to still her thrashing. With a desperate heave, Kaeli threw her monstrous assailant over her shoulder, slamming it around yet still its grasp only tightened. Wulfgar, dripping head to foot in gore and waste-fluid, stomped over, took the massive mutant’s head off in one stroke and followed up with a singular circular slash that minced the monster into nearly a dozen pieces, freeing his comrade of its death-grip but lodged the sword deep in the thing’s ropy guts, chunky ribs and rugged carapace.

For a breathless moment, silence reigned, then from the shadows, several clicks sounded. Wulfgar saw Kaeli’s bolter rising slowly in a one-handed grip, her other hand still struggling at the tightly-wrapped tentacle around her neck. The gun had him in its sights and he dove to the deck just as it barks…

…the passage of one of its rounds singing his right ear and deafening him, but even then he still heard the wet, muffled booms as the bolt-rounds popped the second wave, three still-mostly-human scummers who’d hung back from the mad melee and taken careful aim with smuggled autoguns. They clattered into the filthy deck, mostly dead but one dying ganger’s finger still spasmed on his trigger, blazing bullets at Wulfgar’s back only for the still-gasping Kaeli to hurl herself forward and take the brunt of the blast upon her breastplate.

Meanwhile, Sarah and Matthew had been en route to the holotheatre for a showing of the bloody romance Muzzle Flares and Maidens Fair, the story of three starcrossed lovers from Fane Takara and Fane Westingkrup caught up in the two rival houses’ long feud and brought together amidst the chaos of the recent rebellions…

…when suddenly the light flickered, fizzled then went out entirely and the lift they’d been in ground to a halt between decks, the ventilation fan creaking slowly to a standstill. Matthew’d chattered in panic and prayer only to fall into silence when Sarah’d pulled out her trusty Hecuter and toolkit.

The Malfian merc jimmied the lift’s console free, letting the brass panel dangle by its wiring and set to work trying to coax the machine-spirit back to life, but to no avail. She tried as well with the runners and hinges but proved unsuccessful. Soon after, she had to turn off her dataslate’s illumination to conserve power.

Time passed slowly in the darkness. Rats scampering in the shafts. Breath huffing. Clothing rustling. Heartbeats seemed loud as an engine. They spoke of many things, as would folk with nothing else on hand. Sleep and waking came and went, eyes open and closed seeing only blackness, the only marker of time the passage of sandwiches and slowly draining thermoses.

Just as the former Tarsian had gathered courage enough to ask for a kiss from the dashing bounty huntress, that was when the scratching came. The scratching that came closer and closer, banging and clanging along the ventilation shaft. She slowly, silently checked her pistol’s load and told Matthew to get a gun if he had one and to stay out of her way…

…just as the maintenance hatch and the derelict ceiling lamp burst in a cascade of metal and glass and a serpentine chitinuous beast of many legs slithered out, dominating the lift’s space. Shots and screams rang out in the cramped darkness, claws slashing, teeth snapping, bullets blazing.

When Vera’s clip ran dry--- reloaded out of reflex, without a thought---- and Sarah was sure the beast had stopped moving, she took out her dataslate and clicked on its soft, green glow over a scene of mangled metal and meat mashed together. There was a twitch amidst the charnel-heap, that soft and inkstained hand, waving weakly. Beside it was a stub revolver, clearly a standard civilian seminarian’s holdout, five rounds still in the cylinders, one .35 cal spent. Digging through corpse-and-wreck matter, Sarah found Matthew crushed by the thing’s bulk, impaled against the wall. Or so it seemed, for its claw’s might had been blunted and absorbed by his pocket-copy of The Imperial Creed.

Meanwhile, in the enginarium where the main power reactor and Gellar field generator thrummed a constant, comforting resonance… they suddenly sputtered and fizzled, plunging the great core chamber into darkness and silence, silence broken only by the panicked clicks of consternation by the crew of enginseers stationed there. Even the massive bank-vanes of the heatsinks ground to a halt. No warning klaxons blared.

One of Yarach’s minute screwdrivers tumbled from a suddenly spasming hand when he saw something glowing in the circuitry of the lasgun he’d been working at customizing. Something soft, singing, humming amidst the machine’s couplings and wirings.

Something radiant that whispered it knew his name and his works and had been watching over him for a long time. The enginarium hall rang with sudden thunder that went on and on and on as the strange voice proclaimed how Yarach’s cunning and dedication would lead him to glory…

…and then lightning struck him again and again, strange voices and strange fists hammering his frail little body.

And then he awoke to his fellows-of-the-faith resuscitating him, his optic receptors swimming with sudden light from the revived engines. They claimed he’d passed out when the engine suffered a minor… hiccup.

Eventually, power was restored to the ship, crew armed with shotguns, medikits and emergency rations going about and rescuing trapped passengers… and putting tainted passengers out of their misery. It seems the ship had passed through the edge of a minor warp-storm.

Eventually, the two parties returned to their respective decks, the injured Matthew and the severely nauseated Sarah limping together for support; the bullet-ridden and envenomed Kaeli clinging to Wulfgar’s shoulder yet still stubbornly singing psalms of praise and purging together with the assassin. The two provided an escort for one Lady Laria della Lawa, a scholar and anthropologist who'd been conducting studies of the voider scav-scummer tribes when she'd stumbled across the wandering Lupus Sinderfell, now severely poisoned and barely standing. The Guard-vet field medicae, together with the help of Marcus and Kaarli treated them as best they could while Kells had to be shooed from Kaeli’s knee multiple times.

Shift-Cycle Ten:

Emerging into realspace, the Sevensie’s first stop was at a relatively young agri-colony, still without a proper name, still called simply “Settlement 228”. As the ship sat at anchor at the orbital station, those who venture to the viewing deck would see that it is a bleak-looking world, as if some god had taken a vegetarian, force-fed him dirty meat and then took the crap and moulded it into a planet then slapped an atmosphere around it.

Commuter traffic here consisted of a few merchants and more than a few worker-gangs who got off at this stop as well as a handful of preachers who looked barely out of the seminary or old enough to look like they were looking for an easy posting on an agri-world. More conspicuous than they were some bands of mercs and bounty hunters who, as the local rumour-mill would have it, were hired by the local government to suppress cram-bean farmers without involving official avenues. On the other side of things, those among the colonists who seem to be restless are so because they say the recruiters had misrepresented “Cram World” as a verdant paradise whereas it is a barely arable dustball.

Travel from then on flowed much more smoothly, the ship having maneuvered into a more stable and more swift warp-lane…

Shift-Cycle Eleven:

At their next stop, there was significant traffick in cargo containers as well as servitors, all managed by a robed and augmetic clicking and whispering herd of AdMech scholars and ministers. None of the crates from the Lathe-Worlds were opened and throughout the voyage, chrome-faced troopers guarded the undisclosed shipments, to the distrust of the local scav-scum population. Having been born and bred on such high-grav worlds with heavy industry as part of every minute of their lives, the new crop of passengers were large-boned and well-muscled... who didn’t even blink at the shipmaster’s request that they help with repairs.

Anybody who would have cared to peer out the thick slabs of armourglass or at the holotheatre’s planetary observation would have seen that the planets outside were great hunks of smoke and steel, orbiting tightly around a white-hot sun.

When the Sevensie hove into orbital harbour above the subterranean colony of Landunder, it seemed a barren place from up in the void, but the new crop of passengers who embarked from its orbital docks were a lithe and jovial lot.

The addition of fresh fish and crisp kelp to the Sevensie’s menu was a welcome addition that helped boost morale. That there was even a troupe of blade-artists who put on live shows for the weary passengers was welcomed with wan yet genuine cheer.

Shift-Cycle Twelve

After another bout of nauseating warp-transition back into realspace…

…the ship’s intervox announced that they had finally arrived at the Malfian System. Suddenly, the vessel rocked and metal ground and groaned. Atmosphere hissed ominously as void-cold began to steal people’s warmth and breath. At the far end of the cargo holds, between the two middle-decks was a set of metal teeth and jaws. Smoke and shots and raucous laughter roared. Warning klaxons blared of hull breaches but were overridden by a cruel and coqqy voice, saying,

“Arrigh, ye fat dang friggers. Put ‘em ‘ands wehh we’d a-see ‘em. Dem valaahballs right down easy. Nobody gets ‘urt, ye savvy? Anybody resists, ye’d be grateful iffen yer only shot. Ye savvy?”

ellna

2013-03-06, 05:56 AM

Shift-cycle One:

The journey progressed better with the addition of some fellow scum to talk to. As the others woke up Sarah began to find a little enjoyment in their conversation. However as the hours dragged on and her flask emptied, seemingly of its own volition, she inexplicably found her way to the bar and the liquor housed there...

Shift-cycle Three:

The journey continued. Sarah found and confronted the psyker away from the protection of the others, yet the only caused her mood to worsened. While her time spent with Matthew was pleasant enough most of the time she sat at the bar counting out gun-metal slugs and draining her glass with a sour face. The constant throbbing of the ship was an incessant noise unceasing in its persecution of her. The words of the dead echoing in her mind. That psyker was a tool indeed, but not for the emperor. As she threw back yet another measure she wondered how the others could be so blind...

Shift-cycle Eight:

The lift stalled and Sarah's efforts failed to make an impact. As the darkness bore down on them Sarah shook her flask, almost full, glad for it. The situation could be worse after all...

...The hot spray of blood coated Sarah's face and she grinned. Her tongue poked out and lapped the blood from her lips savouring the taste... No, she spat out the vile blood, tainted with mutations surely. It did have a pungent taste to it for sure, but not worth eternal damnation. The smell of gun-smoke drifted lazily in the air as thick red froth dripped from the walls.

plip... plip... plip... plip

...A hand moved, ink, Matthew lived. She pulled him from the corpse pile mashing her lips to his in excitement despite the gore.
"Well Done... Your first?" Sarah smiled broadly. It seemed the boy had some kick...

Shift-cycle Ten:

As the beast entered real space once again, it did so with the same grace of its first transition and once again Sarah lost control of her stomach content. When the ship left again it was a double blow to her constitution. The sooner they reached Malfi the better...

Shift-cycle Eleven:

This time when the ship began its dance Sarah was forewarned. Tucked away in an alcove far from prying eyes she was allowed to hurl her guts out in peace. This stop at least carried some entertainment. Blade-artists second only to the real thing, Sarah dragged Matthew along and took a slight break from working with Yarach to enjoy herself a little...

Shift-cycle Twelve:

Inside the Enginarium Sarah was blissfully asleep. A bliss soon shattered as the ship jolted her awake. The mugginess, the swirling fog in her mind. Too quickly the ship's fluctuations had become recognisable to her, it made her nauseous. They had entered back into realspace. She mumbled and reached for the pocket where her battered flask rested... Only to remember its absence. Cursing Marcus, she stumbled to her feet and heard the vile broadcast. Reflexes took over and she was already flicking the worn safety off Vera as the words left her mouth.
"What's up today Yarach, who's th' Joker on speaker."

bluntpencil

2013-03-06, 07:55 AM

Pirates? Frickin' pirates? Did criminals just feel the need to line up and present themselves to Alexei for their punishments? They made it too easy, he thought, before barking down the vox to his subordinates.
"Tell tha travellers ta hunker down, an' take cover. Anyone with arms is called upon ta defend themselves an' the ship. We're gonna brutalise these fraggers, since they woke me up on a night-cycle.

Yarach: Hook me up ta tha big vox like they jus' did... maximum volume, fer some ol' fashioned terror tactics."
Assuming that Yarach is able to allow Captain Britanov to speak down the ship-board intervox, he sets to responding to the pirate. Hopefully the pirates would hear it too...
"Crew and passengers of Imperial Starways Seven Three Nine, this is Arbitrator Britanov.

In case you have forgotten, this vessel operates under the same laws as the rest of the Imperium. Fear of pirates and heretics is not the law.

I am the law." They wouldn't fear the pirates. Not with him on board. They would fear only fear itself, and Britanov would be fear itself.

[roll0] Intimidate

ellna

2013-03-06, 12:34 PM

Sarah grinned Britanov's words. When he wasn't actually present it was far easier to agree with what he was saying. Her arms were soon covered by carapace plating that looked more at home on a chem-sifter or some macabre pit fighter. Sarah was still bleary eyed from sleep and the bleak remains of something furry was surely nestled in her mouth, nevertheless she managed to outfit herself for a scrap in rapid order. As the last of the straps was tightened on the vambraces she snatched up Amadeus and trained it on the door to the enginarium, ready to shoot any hostile that entered.

"Yarach, I'm with you."

LeSwordfish

2013-03-06, 01:12 PM

"Pirates?"

"No, really, pirates?"

Kaarli had been away from the rest of the group when the first announcement was made. Forcing her way through the crowd, she returned to the group as Britanov began his speech.

"Can I help?" She asked, taking the horn as he finished. "The honey to your vinegar, as we used to say."

She held the vox-horn to her mouth, took a deep breath, and thumbed it to "Active."

"Citizens of the imperium."
The volume of her voice startled her.
"I- ah, I am a priest of His Holy Light, and I wish to reassure you that his light shines on us even in the darkness of the void. Those that prey upon his subjects will feel his wrath like thunderbolts. Uh, Meritz, volume three. Have no fear, for we have his power on our side. For now, stay calm. Stay safe. Stay where you are. Follow all instructions given by the crew or provosts. Those of you with weapons, ready them. Those of you without..."
For the first time her voice broke.
"Pray for them."

Charm test: [roll0]
Command test: [roll1]

Both vs 60- I have Peer (Workers) and Peer (Middle Classes), I guess most of the passengers are one or the other of those.

Strawberries

2013-03-07, 03:16 PM

Marcus had been in the Rhino when the boarding happened, simultaneously doing some studying and keeping an eye on Agent Maria-Lydia. He gets up when he hears Alexei over the vox, quickly reaching for his weapons and equipment. His first impulse is to reconvene where the rest of the group is... but the captain is there, which means he's going to be pretty much useless. And agent Maria-Lydia together with him. Instead, he reaches for his own communicator. "Agents Marcus and Maria-Lydia reporting, sir. Where do you need us?"

bluntpencil

2013-03-07, 04:13 PM

"By the side o' tha Sister. She's yer minder." grunts Alexei at the psyker down the private vox. He then opens a channel to Kaeli with her own orders.
"Keep an eye on the witch-boy and the new 'un. Ye've permission to execute 'em should it prove necessary. Tell me how many pirates he bags with his pathetic 'powers'."

Strawberries

2013-03-07, 06:27 PM

"Yes, sir." Marcus replies. He is near sister Kaeli... which supposes means that Alexei doesn't want them to go anywhere, yet.

He turns to the other psyker trying to assess if she's well enough to face another possible confrontation. In the end, though, it doesn't make much difference if she is: she, like him, is a psyker, and as such, just a tool in the service of the Emperor and his people. That doesn't mean he can't be worried for her. "Agent Lumen?" he says, quietly, a way to ask her if she's alright.

DaedalusMkV

2013-03-08, 05:41 PM

Wulfgar is kneeling quietly, meditating, when the ship shudders and shakes and the jarring announcement comes over the vox. Eyes quickly flicking open, he immediately turns to Alexei and watches as the Arbitrator Captain begins his own counter-announcement and gives his orders. When things begin to quiet down, the assassin states calmly, "Once again, this vessel is befouled. How much blood needs be spilt before it is reconsecrated to the Emperor? I have never encountered a place which needed more filth cut from it." He turns and looks towards the rear of the hold, where the pirates are clearly beginning their boarding action. "I will hunt their leaders. When I am finished they will fear the shadows." Gathering his colour-shifting cloak around him, the First Blade begins walking calmly towards the disturbance. The traitorous scum will die on the altar of his blade, until they give up and flee or the last of them is gutted and lies cold on the ground. With a flick he activates his belt-mounted noise-cancelling device, rendering his already quiet footfalls into utter silence, then pulls his photo-lenses over his eyes to counter the darkness of the hold.

Wulfgar is heading out to attempt to assassinate the leaders of the enemy boarding party. He will attempt to remain concealed until he finds someone giving orders, at which point he will pounce and attempt to murder them horribly, preferably while nobody is looking.

Awareness to locate enemy leaders: [roll0] vs base TN 55 (75 in dim lighting)
Concealment: [roll1] vs TN 82
Silent Moves: [roll2] vs TN 82

Urist

2013-03-12, 11:20 AM

The exit from the immaterium is supposed to be, for most vessels, a joyous occasion, one which ship crews greet with ecstatic prayers of thanks and a sudden feeling of safety and embrace by the God-Emperor, or the Omnissiah, in the case of tech-priests. This exit was no different than any for Yarach, prompting a sigh of relief, and his threat algorithims, which had been frantically compiling and recompiling firewalls and counter-warp protocols. The ship itself also groaned in relief, the relaxation of the Void-Shields allowing the Machine-Spirit to wind down its frantic power generation, and to obtain new sensory data.

This place of peace doesn't last long, however, as the ship blurts out a stream of binary, overwhelming even the sound of grinding steel and adamantium hull plates. Flames of pain licks at the edge of Yarach's consciousness , a vicarious experience of the agony of the ship. A rage kindles in his heart. Object Class:Heretics will die for this insult.

As Alexei makes his way to the Enginarium, he sees Yarach finishing donning his carpace armor, his Vanaheim and two pistols loaded and lying on the table. He turns, snapping a salute.

"Salutations, Captain. Does this unit require this one to execute any orders? This one is readying to sorty with Object Class: Heretic Pirates."

In preperation for the vox announcement, he performs a ritual of communication, extolling the Omnissiah's virtue, and begging him to direct the words to be spoken to the ears of all through His speakers.

That done, he makes to follow Alexei, Vanaheim in hand, ready to engage the enemy.

bluntpencil

2013-03-12, 12:10 PM

"We'll meet 'em head on. Have tha psykers an' tha Sister come up behind 'em once we've held 'em in place. Let Wulfgar do his thing too, Throne knows they'll sh*t bricks when he appears."Britanov's plan wasn't terribly complex. That being said, the bastards would be expecting a Techy and himself, but they wouldn't see the witches and the heftily-armoured lass with the flamer turning up behind them. They certainly wouldn't expect the First Blade.

Alexei barks at Kaarli as they march down the corridors,
"I want you rallyin' whoever ain't spineless, an' get them shootin' pirates. I figure ye can manage that wi' no hassle. We can slowly give ground an' lure 'em into a trap fer tha others. As long as our boys an' girls don't break, we'll thrash these bastards."

Strawberries

2013-03-18, 06:42 PM

Reacting (with a couple of days of delay, sorry) to a PM by Nexus. Don't yell at me. :smalltongue:

The psyker doesn't move, following Britanov's order, but anybody looking at him would see him suddenly shut his eyes and sway a bit on his feet, as if he had a momentary spell of dizziness. He brings a slightly trembling hand up to the intercom and opens a channel

"Sir" he says, quietly, addressing Britanov but broadcasting to all the members of cell "At least 21 people, sir, and another boarding party at the bow. They d-don't seem so eager to start fighting anymore, but...but t-there's something else as well, sir, a single signal...strong, warp-tainted, and... o-old, sir."

Miraqariftsky

2013-03-19, 05:52 AM

The cargo holds resound with the sudden screech of feedback as Yarach counter-jacks the pirates’ hacking, then boom with the maxed-out volume of Alexei’s address, then Kaarli’s. The cargo holds fall silent, then whoops and cries of a dozen dialects holler in approval and revitalized zeal.

“Tholl’s blood, come on!”
“In the Emperor’s name!”
“Stand to! Stand to!”
“Plug ‘em with lead, plug ‘em with steel!”
“Only WE get to trash OUR home! Get ‘EM!”

@Urist:

Yarach’s cyber-senses reveal an ethereal code-realm that resembles a slice of one of those old wood-and-cloth sailing ships. A one-eyed tricorn-wearing billowing-coated flap-pantalooned golden-toothed pirate takes a swig from a bottle of amasec and gives a seasoned steering-wheel a spin…

…but Yarach remains strangely manages to keep his balance even as the ship lists and rolls dangerously.

“Ho-HAH, ye Stygian knave! Have at ye!” cries the pirate while brandishing a broad-bladed saber in a masterful display of swordsmanship as dozens of his gnarly crew rush at the red-robed techpriest, all wielding swords and axes and spears and hooks. Seeing the mass of virtual muscle and fury hurtling at him as seemingly moving in slow motion, Yarach bursts into action---
---he draws his trusty laspistol and blows the pirate captain’s head off. Everything else dissolves in a smoking, jangling babel of screeching scrap-code.

On the other side of things, there is a hubbub of panick in the mess of background noise in the rapidly deteriorating yet still audible connection of the pirate sys-hack. Their commander’s garbled voice tries to force order back into his men as the boarders clamour to get extricate themselves but the shuttlecraft seem to be stuck fast to the hull of the Sevensie and dead in space. Right before the pirate connection cuts off, soundly beaten down by Yarach’s skill, something similar to the sound of a heavy-eight truck revving its mighty motors, growling for blood.

A shadow among shadows, Wulfgar slips from cover to cover, silently stalking towards the source of the void-cold, always on the far sides of container-stack after container-stack. His sensitive eyes soon detect multiple heat-contacts… passengers and residents making ready to repel boarders, prayers on their lips and iron in their hands. In the distance, he sees a patch of void-cold, with a tight cluster of bio-signs in its midst…

…Kaeli and her pet psykers are not far behind. Though heavily injured, the Sister is no less zealous, and no less harsh on her charges, spurring them onwards with both platitudes and threats.

The enginarium crew stand fast by their doors, ironclaw shotguns at the ready. The young scribe, Matthew, mutters a stream of prayers, trying to hold his own gun as steadily as these superb Throne Agents hold theirs.

bluntpencil

2013-03-19, 06:09 AM

"Warp-tainted? Strong? No such thing. That one's mine, unless Wulfgar beats me to it. Unnerstood?" Alexei figures the bad guys are led by some sort of witch. Good enough for 'em.

He points at Yarach, Kaarli and Sarah and lets them know, before telling them that they're moving to close in on the boarders,
"So they're prob'ly led by a witch? Surprise surprise. Let's move an' I'll see about removin' his heretic spine and usin' it ta strangle 'im." He then leads the others into position, to assist the crew in their fighting retreat.

ellna

2013-03-19, 06:24 AM

Sarah manages a feral snarl at the mention of yet more witches, the enemies have one at last it seems they had caught up. Sarah doesn't need to be told twice and as soon as Alexei moves she is behind him, a red beam shining down the corridor as her beastly rifle scans for targets. The needle of the pressure gauge hovering at the red mark, ready for blood. As she moves out the enginarium doors she spares a small smile for Matthew.

LeSwordfish

2013-03-19, 11:23 AM

In the close confines of the ship's corridors, her las and crossbow would be less useful. Kaarli unshipped her hammer and clicked the link of her microbead. "Rochelle, you and your gang alive? Where are you?"

While she waited for a response, she turned to Yarach. "Yarach. Can i connect my vox to the ship's system, so I can give instructions and sermons on the move?"

Readying Hammer.

Urist

2013-03-19, 01:54 PM

The vivid, almost fever-dream nature of hacking never ceased to amaze Yarach. AS the pirate captain, archaic weapons and all, charges, Yarach draws his "laspistol" (a high-powered anti-virus lance code, in this case) and strikes him down, allowing the CAptain and Kaarli to make their address. At Karlii's request, Yarach nods, affirmatively.

This unit will attempt to patch this unit into the ships main comm systems. This one cannot promise success, as the commbeads have impaired functioning to the order of 30% in the main cargo hold, but this one will make an attempt."

Concentrating, Yarach attempts to, using a piece of slapdash coding he prayed the Omnissiah might forgive him for, to splice the signal for Karlii's commbead into the ships main public announcement system.

Logic: vs TN: 65(If successful, +10 to Tech-Use)
Tech-Use: [roll]1d10- vs. TN ? (Base is 65, 75 if Logic test is successful.

That done, he again follows Alexei, counting on his compatriots to lead him to the location of the filthy heretics which had dared to damage the Omnissiah's bounty.

DaedalusMkV

2013-03-20, 02:27 AM

Wulfgar's smile is a cold, hungry thing as he closes on his prey. Warp-tainted, then, and this presence before him must be the thing his Psyker is warning him about. Foul, twisted Witches and Warp-touched mutants are the purest form of corruption, the greatest blight upon the Emperor's domain. Their filth must be cut clean and eradicated wherever it is met, and their tainted blood makes the holiest Offering to the Emperor. The Assassin quietly draws his deadly blade, even the faint creak of leather and rasp of metal on metal cancelled to nothing by the sound-eliminating technologies cloaking his presence, and holds it in a ready stance underneath his cloak as he continues to creep forwards. It is not quite time to reveal himself yet, not the right moment to make his strike. Keeping to the shadows and alert with all of his senses, the First Blade readies himself for the decisive strike.

Wulfgar will continue to Advance stealthily until he is 15 meters away from the enemy force (his Charge range), at which point he will begin the hostilities. He will not, however, make any sort of attack until he gets a good view of their numbers; against four or five he can make a rapid strike, but a dozen heavily-armed hostiles will be enough to convince him to wait until the situation changes.

Rolls if necessary:
Concealment: [roll0] vs TN 82
Silent Moves: [roll1] vs TN 82
Awareness: [roll2] vs TN 55 (75 in dim lighting)

Strawberries

2013-03-20, 04:17 PM

As instructed, Marcus keeps behind sister Kaeli. He glances towards the other psyker, worriedly, drawing his gun as he is walking. He'll try his best to keep agent Maria Lydia safe, obviously, especially considering that she is still wounded... but in the end, their first duty is eliminate the danger and protecting the passengers on the ship.

Hmmmm... [roll0] vs 34, just in case. -10 penalty already accounted for.

Miraqariftsky

2013-03-25, 05:18 AM

Out of the dark and the cold near the hull-breach is a space of unnatural silence, bereft of cries or yells or clomping mag-boots. And then, as if in the slow time of a dreamscape, muzzle-flashes flare, a hail of las-bolts raking down multiple corridors, with some cannon-grade weapon belching out a torrent of soft-centre scattershot. Sporadic return-fire replies from within various container-domiciles but too little and too unfocused for now to make a difference.

In his bolt-hole, hunkered beneath a thick, jagged piece of hull-debris, Wulfgar feels the deck beneath him trembling with incoming footfalls, thudding closer and closer, faster and faster. Extending the very tip of a blade to check the reflection, what he sees with his own eyes confirms the psyker’s report of a little more than twenty bandits inbound. They seem to be clad in flakweave coveralls, charging in a debased approximation of a spaceborne infantry formation. From his brief glance, no taint seems evident, no taint but for their treachery, no extraordinary accountrements aside from certain tinkling talismans. The few faces he’s able to spot are stretched paroxysms of terror instead and desperation instead of rage and bloodlust.

Two figures among this pirate contingent seem evident to him as leader-material. One is more grey-haired than the rest, a bit more scarred, mouth open in command or roar but seemingly hanging back at the rear and carrying a pair of double-barreled pistols. The other is a brute twice as tall and thrice as broad as any man, bulging with warp-tainted muscle melded with platemail that seems like he’d gutted and worn the husk of a scrapdread as armour. One massive gauntlet grips a silently grinding chainaxe while beneath the other shoulder, instead of an arm, swings a grotesque conglomeration of feeds, belts, cables, components and gun-barrels.

Most of the pirate boarding party, driven by terror and desperation, outstrip their champion and peel off towards the hold’s left side, making for the enginarium. The behemoth fighter however, easily shrugging off the concealed defenders’ seemingly paltry return fire, chugs along as best it could, limping on its brute piston-legs and presently stops a mere dash away from Wulfgar’s alcove…

Down one of the main thoroughfares leading from the elevator shaft, a fusillade of hard rounds erupts--- the telltale rattling report of a heavy stubber, soon joined by the reports of a heavy-cal pistol, the notorious boom of a scattergun and the crack of an unexpectedly standard-powered lascarbine.

[roll0] >Suppression, all missed
[roll1][roll2][roll3][roll4] [roll5] [roll6][roll7][roll8][roll9] [roll10]
[roll11] >Boom
[roll12][roll13][roll14]
[roll15]>Boom
[roll16]
[roll17]>Boom
[roll18]

The bald junior agent pads along softly behind Marcus. Though her injured arm had already been freed of its synthicast, it still hangs mostly stiff at her side. She seems undeterred, however, and brandishes a modified gas-action Ironclaw 10-gauge in one hand. A casual glance across her mind reveals a swirl of fear, exhilaration and relief at having something to fight and vent her stress on--- as well as a good lot of excitement and anticipation at being able to help such with such experienced operatives as these seem to be.

Kaeli, seemingly shimmering in and out of phase with the various steel surfaces around them, suddenly holds up a fist to her two pet psykers, motioning for thme to take cover. The sounds of a firefight and a seeming stampede rush closer to their position, then past them---

---right as the last pirate backside back clears their lane, Kaeli bursts from hiding, dousing the rearmost in promethium. Firing from a prone position, Maria’s shotgun booms low. Her thoughts are blindingly clear to the adjacent Marcus, Roast-roast-roast-roast ‘em! Ack, NO! Not me, don’t roast me! Voidfather damn it! Just, argh, can’t roast ‘em!

[roll19]>How the friggen hell did the flamer MISS? But apparently, it did.
[roll20][roll21][roll22]
[roll23]>Leg-shot, partial
[roll24]

Meanwhile, Matthew’s meticulously kept bowl-cut hair is matted with sweat and his breath comes in short rasps but, as instructed, he keeps both hands on his revolver’s grip, one finger across the guard, a thumb ready over the hammer, the muzzle aimed downwards for safety’s sake, coming up to cover every intersection and alcove they pass.

Suddenly, there comes a mad terror-driven rush as wide-eyed, slavering, panting bandits come pouring out of the next turn that the Acolytes’ battlegroup takes. Incredibly, their faces spend their time turned away from their immediate opponents, glancing backward as if fearing something horrible chasing after them yet still their guns remain trained forward.

[roll25]>Fool
[roll26]
[roll27]>Fool
[roll28]
[roll29]>Armour-scoring on Alexei's pauldron
[roll30]
[roll31]>Fool
[roll32]
[roll33]>JAM... great smoking-ass capacitor-fizzle
[roll34]
[roll35]>Fool
[roll36]
[roll37]>Fool
[roll38]
[roll39]>Headshot, rifle-butt on Yarach
[roll40]
[roll41]>Headshot, las, on Sarah
[roll42]
[roll43]>Body-shot, las, on Matthew
[roll44]

Dodges, if y'all please?

bluntpencil

2013-03-25, 06:49 AM

Alexei notes the calibre of the weapons being fired at him. Chances were pretty slim they'd even get through his armour.

That, of course, meant he was best to get up close and brutalise them, as it would probably prevent them from doing any damage to his cell that were getting all shot up. Not that he really gave a sh*t that they were shot, but he wasn't going to go and conduct an investigation on his lonesome.

He stamps forward, and when he gets close, empties three barrels of Volg-brand death at point-blank range.

Move to within point-blank range, if possible.

Then, ranged attack...

+30 pointblank, +10 RDLS

[roll0] TN 85

Damage in OOC

ellna

2013-03-25, 07:00 AM

Sarah yelps in pain as a las-bolt burns past her face, the hot energy melting her flesh as it passes. The smell of burning hair fills her nostrils and pain floods her mind. She can't stop now though, can't let the emperor down so she holds Amadeus steady and lines up the shot at the fool who had hit her. The tensed wires sing in a high pitched wail as the bulky contraption fires a heavy spike out the barrel.

I shoot the dude who shot me. Crossbow style
46(less than 40m)(aim)(RDLS)vs76:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1]

LeSwordfish

2013-03-25, 02:53 PM

Kaarli readied her hammer as the wave of humanity crashed into them. She was too slow to react as the butt of a rifle glanced against Yarach's head, but she countered back with her hammer, remembering the combat drills she'd learned from the Abbess.

Use all advantages to increase the strength of your swing.

Spin the weight in your hands

Step forward

And when you strike, follow through.

Kaarli spun the hammer, stepped forward to add her bodyweight to the swing, and brought the hammer down against Yarach's assailant with all of her might. The hammer was ancient. It had been handed down from one to the other of the custodians of Maccabeus Quintus for centuries. One of the hardest decisions Kaarli had made in her life was whether to take the hammer or leave it. As it slammed unstoppably into the man who attacked her new colleague, Kaarli found herself thankful for the first time.

Strawberries

2013-03-25, 07:21 PM

Marcus takes cover as best as he can, gun out and pointed ahead of him. He can't help but jump slightly at the very clear, very loud thought that hits him from Agent Lumen's mind, and he spares her a concerned glance to see if she is alright, before bringing up his lasgun and firing on the nearest enemy

((Aargh, I hate combat. I always spend AGES looking up the rules.

Right, let's do this. Taking cover, I'm not sure where, and shooting. [roll0] vs BS=32. Juuust in case it hits [roll1]

DaedalusMkV

2013-03-26, 04:26 AM

Wulfgar hesitates for a moment, observing the surroundings in case this opportunity is somehow a trap, but quickly decides that the enemy simply has no idea that he is present. It seems, then, that they've given him a perfect circumstance for his attack, a gift he is loathe to waste. As much as he would prefer to eliminate the older, scarred seeming-leader first, then pick off the rest as they thrash around in confusion, these raiders seem to be motivated by fear as much as bloodlust and their hulking monster stands in the way, so it will need to be eliminated first. Breathing deep, the First Blade focuses all of his will and furvor on the massive, corrupt target, then unleashes himself in a torrent of energy. The Assassin takes five long strides, still silent thanks to his technological aide and visible only as a blur of colour-shifting cloak, then leaps the final meters and delivers a brutal downward slash with all of his strength, aiming to make the absolute most of the element of surprise.

Well, it simply wouldn't do to pass up an Ambush opportunity on the enemy's deadliest combatant, would it? Let's see if the dice gods approve.

Charge out of cover for a Surprise Attack. Called Shot to the head.

WS Test: [roll0] vs TN 83 (43+10(Best Quality)+20(Charge)+30(Surprise)-20(Called Shot)

Damage: 2d10B1+6, Pen 4. Sanctified, if by some random happenstance this guy is actually a Daemon. I mean, he does sound like he has the Obliterator Plague...

Edit: Righteous Fury and confirmed. That's 23 Damage, Pen 4, to the head, which he cannot Dodge or Parry. I expect that our hulking friend most likely noticed that one, eh?

Reactions may not be taken against Surprise Attacks.

C'mon good damage...

Urist

2013-04-01, 08:34 PM

Creatures:Heretics appear to be fleeing something else. What could motivate these units to flee into enemy fire?

Yarach attempts to dodge the rifle butt flying towards his head, and pulls out his Vanaheim to return fire on the heretics who dared attack the representatives of the Emperor and the Omnissiah.

"Executing program: Purge heretic. Object class: heretics located. Commencing fire operations."

Dodge:[roll0]TN:10
Ballistic Skill:[roll1] TN: 45+20(Full Auto)+10/30(Close/Point-Blank Range)=75/95
Damage:
1 roll per potential hit(1 per degree of success for full auto, 1 per 2 for scatter if point blank). If necessary, Emperor's Fury confirmation underneath each. If more than one target can be shredded, Yarach will do so, assigning extra hits in a left-to-right sweeping pattern.

All AP 0:
[roll2]
Potential Emperor's Fury[roll3]TN:75/95

All AP 0:
[roll4]
Potential Emperor's Fury[roll5]TN:75/95

All AP 0:
[roll6]
Potential Emperor's Fury[roll7]TN:75/95

All AP 0:
[roll8]
Potential Emperor's Fury[roll9]TN:75/95

All AP 0:
[roll10]
Potential Emperor's Fury[roll11]TN:75/95

All AP 0:
[roll12]
Potential Emperor's Fury[roll13]TN:75/95

All AP 0:
[roll14]
Potential Emperor's Fury[roll15]TN:75/95

All AP 0:
[roll16]
Potential Emperor's Fury[roll17]TN:75/95

All AP 0:
[roll18]
Potential Emperor's Fury[roll19]TN:75/95

All AP 0:
[roll20]
Potential Emperor's Fury[roll21]TN:75/95

Miraqariftsky

2013-04-05, 01:10 AM

The cannon mounted on its left arm thunders a firestorm, threatening to shatter the assassin's eardrums, while the chainaxe in the right fist flails about wildly trying to swat out the more-than-annoying pest on its back.

Growls of unholy agony gnash out from its iron-melded helm and slag-cast teeth snap at Wulfgar but still he clings on tenaciously. The brute hurls itself backward several times, slamming the assassin against three container vans--- his back crackling with fractures, going white-hot, then leaden with pain. Shoulder-spikes stab into the assassin’s left leg, serpentine tendrils snake up and try to strangle his right leg and right arm.

W’elp. 17 Wounds-worth dealt to Wulfgar. Don’t worry about turns, brute’s already done his All Out Attack. One more good hit from Wulfgar’s gunna put this bugger out of commission.

Meanwhile, even as Yarach reels from the maddened pirate’s butt-stroke, Kaarli wades in with a long-hafted pneumo-hammer and lashes in from the side, slamming solidly into the flakweave-gloved reaver’s ribs, knocking him away from the techpriest…

…giving him enough room to ready his Vanaheim and unleash hell, walking his fire from left to right while he himself slowly strides towards the left. Most of the first wave of wide-eyed and gasping terror-struck bandit scum have barely a moment to scream before they are blown apart into mere spatters of gristle.

Sarah and Alexei stride in to mop up--- the former half-stumbling from a line scorched across one side of her head, the smell of burned hair and roasted flesh thick in her head; the latter as solid a juggernaut as ever. The pirate marksman who’d shot Sarah and subsequently had his rifle blown out of his hands by a glancing shot from Yarach’s barrage now falls to his knees, clutching at the steel spike now sprouting smack centre in his chest. Alexei’s shield slams into the man who shot at him, then his trusty scattergun lives up to its pedigree, his target bursting apart in meat-chunks.

One of the pirates, a steel-gauntleted steel-haired sergeant, spits a long stream of pink betel-chew, lines up twinned handcannons at the bastard cogboy hosing his boys down with lead. Two hammers click back, two triggers are squeezed, two barrels boom twice…

…at the exact moment that Alexei executes his assailant, stepping into the pirate sergeant’s aim and taking three high-cal shots to his trusty shield, sending shocks up his brawny arm while the fourth shot carooms off his helmet.

Damage-soak already computed, Alexei takes 9 damage to left arm, 4 damage to head.

Behind the Acolytes, from flat on his back, the archivist Matthew grits his teeth against the pain, ignores the chunk of scorched flesh and burning flakweave coat still smoking in his torso and takes a bead on the gunslinging sergeant…

…and sends him to the deck, groaning, blood spurting from a ruined right eye. His shot spent, he groans with pain as he tries to haul himself to a kneeling position, one hand still clutching at his smoking wound.

Behind the pirates, the burning remnants of their second wave run up, all flailing and screaming and stumbling and falling after having been driven into the firelanes of the two trigger-happy women by Marcus’ wildly aimed shots as well as a wall of fire from Rochelle’s Roughnecks. Thoroughly rattled after having their most of their mates brutalized, their squad leader shot, their champion sounding like it’s being tormented, the remaining four pirates dither in indecision…

…one, more desperate than the rest, grits his teeth, overrides safeties, turns up a dial on his lasgun, sending the weapon humming and squealing and smoking with barely-restrained energies. “Yeah? YEAH?! Back the frigg off or I’ll blow us all ta the Warp!“

The remaining three turn to back to flee. One smacks at full speed against Kaeli’s armour, knocking himself out, gets clubbed across the way by Maria, sending him carooming into Marcus. One runs right into Rochelle’s Roughnecks and gets summarily executed.

The last standard human pirate of this boarding party gets himself lost amongst the crates and taken out by mob action by the local passengers and voidscummers.

Two POWs, both severely injured: The one missing one hand and with a crossbow bolt in one lung, and the one gushing blood from a ruined eyesocket.

One still-active assailant: the big dang iron-and-flesh bull-man that Wulfgar’s riding like a Spanish rodeo-matador.

Meanwhile, despite Yarach’s pain receptors flaring, his sys-patched cyber-senses intercept some transmissions from up midships and in the bow, as well as some garblings from the astropath.

Time running out, sorry. W’elp. Apparently, the redshirt squads, with a little help from some passengers and their bodyguards have successfully repressed the boarders in their sector. Crashed-burned-and-melded boarding torpedoes have become barnacles in Sevensie’s side and repair crews are already patching things up with torch-welds and emergency plating. Yarach also manages to “eavesdrop” that two of Malfi’s local patrolling Navy ships are en route to serve as escort. Pirate vessel making for the proverbial hills.

bluntpencil

2013-04-05, 04:28 AM

Alexei slowly reloads his triple-barrelled shotgun, the sound of the shells being clicked into place almost echoing as he brazenly strides towards the pirate with the improvised explosive, trying to get within a good few metres, his gun pointed at the floor.

He growls,
"If that's one o' them Witch-cannons, it's not gonna work, kiddo. Not wi' me here."He grins. It's never good when he grins.
"And if it ain't. It's a frickin' lasgun. Zero armour piercin'. You'll set yerself on fire, savin' me the prometheum, an' nothin' else."When he gets close enough, he pauses and asks,
"So tell me... do ya feel lucky, heretic?"

Getting close enough for Blank field. Also, Point Blank range. ;)

Fate to recover [roll0] Wounds
Intimidate [roll1] TN 50 + circumstance bonuses/difficulty

Urist

2013-04-05, 01:13 PM

The sight of heretics being blasted into paste warms what remains of Yarach's biological components. Once, he would have been disgusted at the animal scent of blood, offal, and shattered organs, mixed with the smell of gunsmoke, would have made Yarach want to vomit.; However, with the long tears of pacification of Sibellus, he had slowly developed a taste for the bloodshed. Subroutines of disgust squelched, the only thing he experienced was an ecstatic joy at being able to serve, and a thankfulness to the Omnissiah for the bounty of weaponry which alloed him to serve.

As Alexei approaches the only remaining pirate, his lasgun smoking and spitting, Yarach's anger flashes again. He addresses a blurt of binary to the lasgun, simultaneously drawing his trusty Mars MK IV Pattern Command Laspistol, and paints a third, bright red eye between his eyes with his red dot sight."This unit apologizes that this onemust be subject to heretek hands, and corrupted. This unit shall liberate this one's spirit shortly."

Turning to Alexei, Yarach nods at the stubborn suicide bomber.

"Orders, Captain? This unit has aquired reference:heretek forehead with a 95% accuracy rating. Should this one initiate disposal?"

Aiming, keeping aim. Assuming there is time to aim for a full round while we're talking, TN shifts to 95.

Intimidate based on intelligence, if you allow it. The impression of intelligence given by his little speech seems terrifying...

[roll0]:TN:45.
If he needs to shoot, roll of [roll1] vs TN: 95.

Damage:
[roll2]
Accuracy dice, if needed:[roll3],[roll4]
Emperor's Fury:[roll5]
[roll6]
[roll7]
[roll8]

Strawberries

2013-04-05, 04:55 PM

Reflexively, Marcus points his gun in the direction of the pirate that has almost bumped into him, but he realises pretty soon that there is no use in it, given the state the man is in. He trains his weapon again on the pirate that is in a standoff with Alexei, trying to keep an eye on the rest of the battlefield...and he notices Sarah bleeding from a bad head wound. Marcus hesitates, then tries to circle around Alexei and the surviving pirate to get as near to her as possible.

Since Marcus is totally useless in combat, may as well have him do something else.

Trying to maintain cover (and also to stay as far from Alexei as possible), he'll move towards Sarah (and, incidentally, Wulfgar, I believe). May be useful having someone that can heal nearby.

Delaying the other half action juuuust in case he needs to use a psychic power. Spasm, for instance, sounds about right. Too bad Marcus doesn't use his powers in normal circumstances.:smallwink:

DaedalusMkV

2013-04-05, 05:25 PM

Wulfgar grunts in pain as the hulking brute tears at him, dodging out of the way of its enormous Chainaxe, giving way to his opponent's hammer-blows and rolling with its hits to avoid the worst of the damage, though he still takes a brutal battering, bruises and gashes opening despite the exceptional protection of his combat cloak and one hammer-blow rattling his heavy Carapace chestplate with its sheer force. Clearly he had underestimated the sheer toughness and ferocity of this beast. Twisting away from the twisted hulk's grasp, the First Blade finds his feet and swings his blade into an offensive stance with lightning speed, beginning his own counter-attack with a dazzling array of strikes, raining down blows on his target as he attempts to slice through the weak points in its armour and finish it off before it has another opportunity to get him in its grasp.

Alright, let's do this. Swift Attack is all I've got the Actions for, fingers crossed the Dice Gods continue to show Wulfgar their favour.

Attack 1: WS: [roll0] vs TN 53
Damage: [roll1] plus 6, Pen 4.

Attack 2: WS: [roll2] vs TN 53
Damage: [roll3] plus 6, Pen 4.

I am going to be extremely liberal with Fate Points here, since there's a very good chance that if I don't finish this guy off he'll oblige for me.

ellna

2013-04-08, 09:27 AM

Sarah advances in step behind Yarach, a mask of pain twisted onto her face as her cooling flesh contracts. As she passes the man who shot her she stops, a demented smile on her face. Amadeus lowers till the barrel hovers inches off his face. Her finger tightens on the trigger and her eyes narrow... Not yet, not quick. She pauses and waits for the boom of Alexei cannon once more. The scent of burned flesh and human viscera fill her mind as she stares at the fool with the humming las weapon. A note of uncomfort slips into her mind and she edges slightly Alexei gritting her teeth. Tense Sarah waits for the current situation to difuse and orders to reach her ringing ears.

LeSwordfish

2013-04-09, 04:46 PM

Kaarli stepped forward to back up Britanov, and tried to hold her hammer in as menacing a way as she could.

She filed the "witch-gun won't work on me" information away for later and began muttering the Catechism to Turn Back The Heretic under her breath.

Emperor shield my body from his weapons, blind his eyes with your radiance, and break his spirit with your fury.

bluntpencil

2013-04-09, 04:51 PM

Britanov, from behind gritted teeth, whispers loud enough for those backing him up to hear,
"Back off, idiots."They weren't packing the heavy armour and shield. He was going to take the, admittedly feeble, blast himself.

LeSwordfish

2013-04-09, 04:58 PM

"With respect, no, sir."

She still edged slightly more behind the burly Arbite though.

ellna

2013-04-10, 07:17 AM

Sarah heard Alexei's hushed voice cutting through the peeling bell that filled her ears. Anger had it's place and retribution was needed, but neither were useful to a dead man. Sarah had no intentions of dying, not here not yet. She began backing up from Alexei's quarry, Amadeus' dot shifting from the dying man to the fool.

Urist

2013-04-10, 02:38 PM

Yarach continues to aim, and move slightly to the side and back. He respects Alexei's intention to take the blast himself, but if he can make a shot, of course, it makes more sense to attempt to stop the madman. Looking to Alexei again, he queries, quietly:

"Captain, should the Hound hunt?"

"Hopefully this units coded packet can be decoded..."

Unless Alexei indicates otherwise, Yarach concludes, he has to take the shot. Drawing a bead and aiming, once again, at the forehead of the erstwhile pirate, Yarach pulls the trigger.

Full Round Action to aim, Red Dot Sight, Close range, Accurate+ BS45=TN 95

[roll0]TN:95
Damage:[roll1]
Emperor's Fury:[roll2]
Accurate Damage Dice:[roll3]
[roll4]
Emperor's Fury Damage:
[roll5]

bluntpencil

2013-04-10, 02:43 PM

Alexei merely growls the whole time. From their years of working together, Yarach would likely conclude an 82% chance of that being an affirmative to his request. The Captain was never one for negotiations, after all.

Miraqariftsky

2013-04-11, 09:52 AM

"LUCKY?!" The desperate pirate raves. "Lucky 'nuff ta not put up witchu pigs! DISPOSAL?! What are we ta y'all? GARBAGE?! Dregs?! HAH! Come on, come on! Whassa Emprah dunna y'all, huh? Any o' y'all parents, huh? Where is yer HOME, huh? AHHHHHHHHKkkk---!"

Spittle flecks his stubbled mouth as he rants. In a brief moment of calm, his body illuminated by several gun-lamps and couple of distant luminators, it is apparent from his physique and tarnished uniform that he might once have served, perhaps as a Naval trooper or as a traitor-PDF unit.

All those with weapons trained on the second to the last remaining pirate waving around a shrilling safety-overridden lasgun see the twitch as his left hand flashes for a grenade while the right hand's trigger-finger begins to pull just as he barges forward, jamming himself right against Alexei...

...then several shots intercept the suicide bomber as he closes. Yarach's lasbolt fries half his face off, spattering the left half of his Captain's helmet with sizzling gore. Another stub pistol round from the chest-sizzling seminarian punches through a thigh in the same half-second that Sarah's Amadeus spits out several spikes. Two spikes sink into his gut, while the third pins his hand to the overloaded lasgun's mechanism, hitting a component and causing the whining to rapidly decrease in volume. Three expert shots from Rochelle blast the pirate's right arm apart.

Dying muscular impulses twitch the fragged finger feebly in one last trigger-squeeze while the pirate's left hand pulls a grenade pin free. Instead of an explosive weapon overload similar to what Sarah had witnessed outside Enoch's Electrical Emporium two scant years ago, the traitor's muzzle merely flash-welds Alexei's shield to the deck and gives his boots a toe-warming.

And then the frag grenade blows, the concussive force collapsing the two nearby crate-stacks, sending tonnes of cargo crashing down around the meat-smeared patch of decking...

Alexei takes 9 Wounds from the not-quite-overloaded-lasgun. W'elp, as he predicted, absorbed by his indomitable damage-soak.

Everyone around there takes 17 Wounds from the grenade. And 16 Wounds from falling debris. [Pfft! Majority of those're still soaked by Alexei's armour and toughness, right?]
Dodge attempts get a +20 if close by either Alexei or Kaeli.
Those who were closest to the walls get a +10, since the falling cargo jumbles upon each other, forming an air-pocket where, hopefully, the majority of y'all survive.

Meanwhile, the fallen behemoth of flesh and iron continues its growling, thrashing struggle against the sword-wielding tick clinging to its back that just won't let go and just keeps on slashing and stabbing.

No matter how many high-gauge rounds go off right beside Wulfgar's ears, nor how many hot brass casings pelt his skin, he refuses to relent. No matter how many times the Khornate superman hurls itself backward against hard steel, cracking the assassin's ribs in many places and driving his breath out of his lungs, he still refuses to relent.

Sparks flash across that battered helm and a respirator unit bursts apart as the behemoth's severely mutated bestial jaws snap at Wulfgar's mistake, catching Wulfgar's forearm in a monstrous maw...

...just as his other hand grips the First Blade's saints-engraved steel midway down its length, holding its point flush against the behemoth's bulging neck.

And then the explosion's concussive wave hits both of them, sending them to the ground, Wulfgar's eyes flooding with pain and then darkness as he slips into unconsciousness.

Congratulations. If Wulfgar survives 19+12 Wounds-worth, [both subject to Armour/Toughness reduction and Dodge-halving, thankfully.] then I do believe he's got a good deal of glory under his belt.

Seemingly an eternity of darkness and blood later...

...the Acolytes, all of them, hear faint voices calling out the Emperor's praise, muffled whoops for joy, metal scrabbling on metal, the clanking of crowbars and chains, a workganger's chantey. The scent of death and rot is thick in their nostrils yet they also smell fresh machine oil and several faint yet delicious aromas.

As their eyes slowly adjust to the gloom, they see beams of light stabbing through the darkness. Familiar voices slowly cutting through the fugue of impact and saying, "Oooo---eeeehhh---? Uuuuu aaaaaaiiiiiggghht?"

Oddly enough, all of them feel strangely... light...

Toughness checks at -10 if neither military-trained nor voidborn:
If failed, then dizzy/nauseous...
...due to grav-plating apparently down.

Also, Awareness checks, if y'all please. +10 from echoes, -10 from injuries.
Crap Failure:

Arrrrgggh! I'm bliiiiiiind and deeeeeeaaaffff! And there's corpse-juice all over my hands! And I'm floating?

Failure:

Huh? Whassat? Whassat?

Base success:

Rochelle, Slagger and Jordan, severely bandaged, have their gun-lamps on. They seem exhausted but elated, looking forward to imminent rescue. No sign of Jim.

Matthew's concerned face is the first that Sarah sees, his hand over the fresh patch of synthskin across her scorched face. His habit is torn open, exposing a matching wound on his chest. His hands idly spin the cylinders on his stub revolver.

Meanwhile, Wulfgar awakes to find his foe's heavy weight off of him. While his vision begins to resolve, he might be surprised to see that amidst a strange maelstrom of black and red globules, instead of a hell-eyed massive-mawed iron-helmed head, the behemoth's head seems to have...

...shrunk? And speaking in a chip-toothed juve's voice? "Hawwow dehr! Kniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiife wahk!"

Whoohoo success:

~from outside the cave-in:
"Heave-ho! Heave-ho! Pull on three, slackers! One-two-THREE!"
"Hyep-hyep-hyep! Roast rat, fried rat, boiled rat, sauteed, fricaseed, chopsueyed, honey-dipped, chilli-dipped!"
"Engine-juice! Gellar-ale! Scrap-packs! Code-craps!"
"Ha-HAH, they're there, eh? Imagine that! Heroes of the Imperium, eh? EH?"
~so on and so forth...

bluntpencil

2013-04-11, 10:13 AM

Alexei didn't expect the grenade.
"Sh*t," he curses as he realised that his idiot cell-mates have gotten too close.

Having wrenched his shield free from the deck-plating, he tosses aside his shotgun, grabs the armoured bulwark with both hands, and attempts to smother the bomb with it. Hopefully the fuse is short enough, and it isn't a frickin' krak grenade...

...and if he survived this, he would be giving his cell-mates a right chewin' out for forcing this

[roll0]
Act quickly? Assume it should be automatic, but hey.

Urist

2013-04-11, 01:20 PM

Yarach's las-shot comes too little, too late, and he knows it immediately. His autosenses pick up the "click" of a pin falling to the decking. Too little time to make any physical action; the only thing to be done now was to double-check all preservation subroutines, prepare to treat the wounded, and make peace with the Omnissiah.

01010100 01101000 01101001 01110011 0100000 01110101 01101110 01101001 01110100 0100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01101101 01100101 01101110 01100100 01110011 0100000 01101001 01110100 01110011 0100000 01110011 01110000 01101001 01110010 01101001 01110100 0101100 0100000 01100001 01101110 01100100 0100000 01110100 01101000 01100001 01110100 0100000 01101111 01100110 0100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 0100000 01110101 01101110 01101001 01110100 01110011 0100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01110010 01100001 01100100 01100101 01110011 0101100 0100000 01110101 01101110 01110100 01101111 0100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 01100101 0101100 0100000 01001111 01101101 01101110 01101001 01110011 01110011 01101001 01100001 01101000 0101100 0100000 01100001 01101110 01100100 0100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 0100000 01000111 01110010 01100001 01101110 01100100 0100000 01000011 01101111 01101101 01110000 01110101 01110100 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110 0101110

As soon as he can hear again, Yarach moves his body, battered, by the explosion, and performs a quick diagnostic check. His vox device imparting a crackling quility to his voice, knocked out of place by the blast, contributes to the battered impression his statement carries.

"Query:what is the status of these units? Are these units still functional?"

ellna

2013-04-11, 01:28 PM

Sarah follows suit with Yarach Amadeus hurling bolts out in a serene silence as the sounds of gun-fire are blotted out by the incessant ringing in her ears. As the third pin fired from Amadeus she could see the hand with the grenade. Sarah spun around Amadeus falling from her hands and swinging on its strap as she dived for Marcus. Instinct moving her to protect him despite herself.

Then it all went wrong. The strap tangled around her shoulder and the wooden butt swung up catching her on her chin. Her dash quickly turned into a farce, crashing into Marcus and sending him sliding along the floor borne by the accumulated guts and fluids of the dead. Then to bring a fitting end to her attempt Sarah slammed into a poorly stacked crate-wall, bounced off and collapsed stupefied atop Marcus. Then her will left her and she went limp.

~~~

Sarah opens her eyes again her hand going to the foreign synthskin, where her hand meets Matthews. She smiles weakly at him and then grabs his shoulder pulling herself up. Sarah kissed him gently and then looked around at the aftermath. Bile rose in her throat not from the corpses or their wounds, but from the weird feeling of floatieness. She hated ships.

"I'm alive, and able Mechanicus."

Strawberries

2013-04-11, 03:23 PM

Marcus wouldn't be able to tell what happened. All he can remember is moving towards Sarah, trying to ignore the waves of pain and fear that he can perceive pretty much from everywhere, except from that frightening, dizzying void where Alexei is, then everything happens together: the explosion, Sarah slamming into him -had she tried to... shield him?- and the both of them awkwardly rolling towards the centre of the action.... then there is pain, and for a while, nothing else.

Marcus regains consciousness to more pain. It hurts to breathe, and to move, and it even hurts to think, but everything in his life has conditioned to ignore that, and keep functioning as best as he can. He sits up, slowly, biting back a pained whimper, and tries to look around to see what's the status of his comrades. Sarah's the first he spots... well, the only one he spots. She seems to have been patched up as best as they could, but she's still bleeding, and still radiating waves of pain and confusion that resonate with Marcus' own, and... You can help. You know you can. For once in your life. The thought is sudden, comes from apparently nowhere, and is immediately followed by the fear that it would go wrong again, like that time on Thical. You are only here for this reason. That's the only thing you are good at, and the only one you are needed for. The voice in his head, this time, is surprisingly similar to Urval's. Marcus shakes his head to shut it up, then groans in pain. That hadn't been a good idea. He slowly, carefully gets up, taking an uncertain step towards Sarah.

"Ma'am... stand-stand still, please." he whispers quietly to her. Let me help is the unspoken plea. If she lets him, or is too stunned to react, he'll touch her, close his eyes and try to concentrate, despite the pain, silently praying to the Emperor that it will work.

I believe, considering that crappy awareness roll, the worst off person that Marcus can see is still Sarah, so I'll go for her. Sorry Wulfgar, you're still too far away.

Now watch me bring peril of the Warp on us all
Invocation [roll0] vs... 70, I believe
[roll1] plus an additional 5 if the invocation is successful. Threshold 7. In case of a 9, I've got a fate point to use. And I'm aware that Sarah wasn't going to die anyway, but I'll never have a better occasion to get Marcus off his arse and using his powers.

And yeah, I know I would have been better off using them on myself, but unfortunately, that would have been wildly OOC.

bluntpencil

2013-04-11, 03:51 PM

Alexei staggers to his feet, and takes a quick assessment of the situation. He wasn't dead, so that was good. He gives his helmet a bit of a bash to clear the ringing in his ears, then, after spitting and seeing no blood, gives a 'thumbs up' signal to Yarach and Rochelle,
"Good shootin'. Never negotiate wi' heretics," he grunts, praising their efforts, whilst pointing at Kaarli with his other hand, turning his head her way after thanking the others,
"When I say 'back off', it's fer a reason, aight? Leave tha heroics ta tha frickin' pros." Interestingly, he hasn't mentioned anyone's injuries at all. He shows no concern for Sarah or Marcus' wounds, and doesn't seem even the slightest bit worried about Wulfgar.

Sarah gets no praise, but neither does she receive any admonishment. She needed to try harder, but at least she didn't bugger it all up again.

http://t.qkme.me/3qgg4r.jpg

ellna

2013-04-11, 04:48 PM

"Ma'am... stand-stand still, please."

As Marcus moves towards her she flinches slightly as she hears his quiet voice, soft against the discordant choir. She flashes some teeth in a smile. "Frak! You look like, I..." Her tone is jovial and pleasant. Its obvious that she meant to finish it with: "feel." However after a long pause and a look of recognition she finishes the sentence with: "...hope it hurts." She continues to stare at Marcus, but makes no effort to move or resist his efforts.

Strawberries feel free to describe your healing touch :smallwink:

Strawberries

2013-04-11, 05:16 PM

Marcus doesn't seem to register either the pleasantry or the insult. He is too focused on trying to breathe steadily, to try and keep the pain under control and avoid to faint again. He reaches a slightly trembling hand towards Sarah, resting it lightly where her shoulder meets her neck. He doesn't have to touch people to do this, but it makes it so much easier, and right now, Marcus feels like he needs all the help he can get. Not that he hasn't been trained to use his powers while under a great deal of physical pain. Far from it, in fact. It's like on Terra. Focus. Think of nothing else.

Marcus closes his eyes, and for a couple of moments, stops breathing completely, focusing everything on the inside, trying to reach for the Warp and, more importantly, to control it, at least for a little while. The psyker starts breathing again, focusing on Sarah's wounds, and as he's been taught, he tries to wield his power like a scalpel, to shape the flesh and mend the wounds. It works, thank the Emperor. Marcus knows from experience that the process is neither pleasant nor painless, as the flesh knits and the bones straighten, and, as always when he uses his power, Marcus can feel the hum of the Warp all around him. He fleetingly wonders if Sarah can, too. He never tried healing someone without psy abilities, outside training.

He steps back quickly when it's over, breathing a bit harder. He's starting to feel pain again, now. He stumbles, and has to lean against the wall for balance.

ellna

2013-04-11, 05:53 PM

Sarah doesn't flinch again when Marcus places his hand on her. Worry flashes across her eyes as she feels her flesh begin to move, sliding at his will. Sarah's fingers twitch toward her holster, before she forces her hands still at her sides. Her mottled green orbs glaze over as she focuses on a distant point. When Marcus finishes it is while before she moves again. Her first action is to run her hand across her face. The skin was still tight and warped, but firm. Her hand gently traces the new scar, that has scorched along the side of her head, causing shivers of pain. Then Sarah turns to Marcus giving him a grunt of appreciation. Sarah doesn't have the skill of Alexei however and whispers softly, almost fearing the words actually being heard "Thanks, I guess."

Strawberries

2013-04-12, 04:19 AM

Marcus stares at her, eyes sliguhtly widened in shock. He hadn't expected to actually be thanked. That's not something that usually happens. He nods jerkily in acknowledgment towards Sarah... and he immediately has to close his eyes and slide down in a sitting position on the floor. His head is spinning too much for him to retain balance. He brings an hand to his face and is unsurprised to find blood on it. Yarach 's mechanical voice somehow cuts through the confusion. "I... I am alive, sir " he answers, struggling to keep his voice above a whisper.

ellna

2013-04-12, 04:53 AM

Sarah watches Marcus as he slides pitifully down the crates. Licking blood from face, Sarah makes a decision. She walked over to the Roughneck medic and grabbed her shoulder pulling her away from the crushed crewman. Sarah points to Marcus. "He's broken, fix him. Now!"

Sarah then sets about doing something useful clearing fallen crates and restoring the access to the rest of the ship. Checking the dead and dying and hiding a forlorn look when she sees her prize had died. While she works at the mess her bruised body slowly recovers and a few usable objects find there way into her multitude of pockets. She joins the song of the work gang as she goes.

Marcus' Thought Reading:Marcus gets a flash from Sarah he moves around within whatever miasma Alexei brought. Concern. The same thing that had surfaced amid the terror as she escaped the blast.

LeSwordfish

2013-04-12, 08:45 AM

Kaarli hauled herself to her feet. It was her first exposure to zero gravity, and she was forced to hook her fingers into the deck platings to avoid drifting away.

"Sorry, sir." She mumbled at Alexei. "Thank you."

It was all she could do to stay concious. As if on autopilot she reached for the vox and began broadcasting a prayer of thanks.

Urist

2013-04-12, 09:19 AM

At the confirmation of life from the rest of the cell, Yarach breathes a sigh of relief, which comes out as a burst of static.

"Omnissiah be praised. All wounded units, await medical attention; this unit and any other medically trained personnel will assist when able."

Making his way over to Marcus, Yarach joins with the Roughneck medic in helping to treat Marcus' wounds. After doing so, he begins removing rubble from the pile, assisting Sarah, and mumbling hymns of praise to the Omnissiah for their survival.

Medicae Roll:[roll0] TN: 45

Henry the 57th

2013-04-12, 02:18 PM

Kaeli struggles to her feet, her head pounding.

"I'm alive." she manages, before collapsing against whatever support she can get.

She grits her teeth in frustration. You should be stronger than this! She begins muttering a prayer of her own, asking for strength to do the Emperor's will.

Urist

2013-04-12, 02:31 PM

Yarach hears Kaeli fall, and moves over to her.

"Cease movement, comrade. Movement will exacerbate any hardware dysfunctions currently experienced. Let this unit assist this one."

Another Medicae test: [roll0] vs TN: 45

bluntpencil

2013-04-12, 03:11 PM

Alexei makes a point of stamping around some distance from the witch-boy. He probably needed room to do his magicky-bone-setting or whatever it was. To hell with that.

Anyway, somehow, Alexei has found himself a smoke, likely after bullying one of the witnesses of his recent heroics. They were crappy hand-rolled smokes, but you take what you can get.

He's no good at treating injuries or any of that nonsense, causing them is more his thing, really, and dealing with crying, pathetic, bleeders only pisses him off. So, he stands around, smoking his roll-up, grumbling about those that had the indecency to go and get themselves injured.

As he wanders around, his smoke in hand, he points it at the fallen Wulfgar, and checks out the monstrosity he just killed, too. The cigarette held between his index and middle finger, he gives the badly hurt First Blade a thumb-up in approval, making no mention of his wounds,
"Not bad, kid."
Hopefully this fiasco, with him diving on a bloody grenade, didn't show up on the reports. It would be bad for his reputation as a cold, terrifying bastard with a penchant for creatively brutal executions.

After he finishes, and stamps out his cigarette, he tosses his now heavily dented shield to Kaarli Remora,
"Next time, you jump on the bomb, hero." It's hard to tell if he's serious or not. Soon after, he helps himself to a new shield from his makeshift precinct, and has a rummage around to see what ammunition they've got lying around. He voxes his cell-mates as he does so,
"Someone tell whichever stupid bastard that took our ticket money that they're givin' it back, pronto. An' Rochelle's lot too, they're ridin' fer free, aight? No hagglin', no compromisin', jus' get it done."

Urist

2013-04-12, 05:27 PM

"Order packet receieved, Commander. This unit will speak to the captain of this vessel, and obtain the boarding fees. Would a request for an extra retainer for defense services be in order?"

Having spoken, Yarach pulls out his data slate, and begins composing a requisition form and attendant Inquisitorial authorizations for the return of their Throne gelt.

Rolling a Logic to improve a Tech-Use roll, followed by an intimidate check. Tech-Use to aid in the Intimidate check, using the Tech-Support rules in the Inquistor's Handbook. Int-based, being predicated on an Inquisitorial form and such. Form to be composed later tonight.

Logic: [roll0] TN: 55
Tech-Use: [roll1] TN:55(65 with successful Logic test.
Intimidate:[roll2] TN: 45(55 if Tech-Use succeeds).

bluntpencil

2013-04-12, 05:37 PM

"Tell 'em I'm mad enough ta jump on a frickin' grenade without hesitatin', so I certainly won't hesitate ta shoot their frickin' brains out, aight? I'm not in tha mood fer any crap from 'em.

Give 'em a minute ta at least offer ta give us our cash back first, though, like, as a reward. They're maybe reas'nable. Failin' that, death threats."Alexei didn't honestly believe that death threats were truly necessary. The ship's captain, if he had any sort of character, should be planning on asking them to dine with him in the officer's mess already. But, hey, if this idiot who would've let the Adeptus Arbites' equipment get stolen wasn't going to fork over their Thrones, he was getting a bolt shell through his skull.

Intimidate, Intelligence based TN 50
[roll0]

Strawberries

2013-04-12, 06:01 PM

"Thank you, sir." Marcus says as Yarach does what he can to patch him up. He stands up after that, still unsteady on his feet, but figuring he has to do something to help, somehow. And, as Urval's memory has been so kind to remind him before, there is pretty much only one thing he is useful for. Marcus looks around, slowly, trying to figure out if any of his cellmates need any help. Everybody seems to be wounded, but everybody is still more or less on their feet, except... Wulfgar. Where is Wulfgar? The thought is slightly panicked, worry fuelled by the realisation that he can't perceive the assassin's mind at all... but then he spots him. Alexei is near him, though, which explains why Marcus hadn't gotten feedback of any kind from his mind.

From what he can see, though, Wulfgar seems very seriously wounded. Marcus bites his lips at the discomfort Alexei causes him and gets nearer. "Sir. Please step back, sir." he says quietly but firmly to Alexei. If and when the Blank complies, he crouches near the assassin, ignoring the dizziness and pain, and tries again to do what he did for Sarah. God-emperor, please let it work again.

Alright... PLEASE let me not roll a nine.
Invocation vs 70 [roll0]
Healing (threshold 7) [roll1] + other five if Invocation is successful.

If it works Wulfgar removes [roll2] damage. As for the effect, same as for Sarah... a painful and strange re-arranging of flesh and bones, and you can choose how much of the Warp you perceive together with Marcus.
If it doesn't work, I guess I'll roll a standard medicae check OOC
If it IS a nine...we're in for interesting times.

DaedalusMkV

2013-04-13, 03:37 AM

Wulfgar's eyes snap open, and he quickly assesses the situation; dark, almost enough to interfere with the miraculous technology of his Photo-visor, but not quite. A small boy, yelling at him, and his target dead at his feet. A moment later he begins coughing uncontrollably, the dust in the air mixing with what the Assassin quickly decides is likely a bit of internal damage from the battering he took, dried blood around his mouth. When he gets himself under control, the First Blade grabs for his sacred weapon, reassuring himself with its presence, and ignores the boy long enough to thumb his comm-bead and announce, "Target dow... *Cough* Down. Reporting in." Then he turns to look at the child and quickly growls "What is it? I am on important business."

---

When Alexei arrives, the Assassin nods in response. "An unnaturally tough target. I cut three major arteries and its windpipe in the first exchange, and it still fought on. Most likely touched by the Warp." At this hateful word Wulfgar spits a red-tinged wad of saliva at the hulking creature. "Still, it could not stand before the Emperor's retribution. The forces of the Enemy will quake at this reminder of His Power. A worthy Offering to Him."
He acknowledges Marcus' arrival with a simple nod and watches expectantly as the Psyker orders Alexei back and stands ramrod-still as the young Psyker approaches with outstretched arms. Wulfgar grunts as the cold wash of energy rolls through him, grunting quietly at the odd sensation, and after it passes he prods at his injuries, noting that the recovery is nowhere near complete. He growls again, "Quick. Useful... Dangerous. I will inform you in the future when this is necessary." Flicking over the obviously severe injuries still plagueing Marcus, he continues. "Now, yourself. You are no use to anyone if you can barely stand straight."

Strawberries

I'm actually thinking that, with his high Willpower and fanatical disposition, Wulfgar is probably quite far from attuned to the Warp and won't necessarily experience the psychic experience associated with this. Marcus' passive telepathy would likely reveal Wulfgar reigning in an intense sense of loathing battling with zealous determination before the contact ends.

Strawberries

2013-04-13, 08:50 AM

Marcus steps back immediately when he's finished, giving the assassin plenty of space. He hadn't missed the flash of discomfort and disgust from the man, albeit carefully controlled, and he doesn't want to impose further. "Yes, sir." he acknowledges, in a low voice, when Wulfgar basically orders him to not touch him again unless expressly ordered to. That wasn't exactly an unexpected request... the unexpected request comes half a second later, when the assassin prompts him to use his healing on himself. Marcus begins to shake his head almost by reflex, before catching himself. You are not use to anyone if you can barely stand straight, Wulfgar had said, and he was right. With the ship closing towards Malfi, there would be little to no time for natural healing to take his course.

Marcus looks at the assassin with an expression that says clearly please don't force me to, but doesn't put it into words and, obviously, doesn't even think about possibly disobeying. He shudders slightly, closes his eyes and concentrates again, this time directing his powers on himself.

One last time, then.

Invocation [roll0] vs 70
[roll1] + 5 on successful invocation vs threshold 7. Anything other than a 14 will be fine, really.

EDIT: hey, what do you know, a four. :smallsmile: Now to roll 1d5 OOC...

ellna

2013-04-14, 07:50 AM

Sarah continues to struggle her way through the laborious effort of shifting the fallen stacks, glad for Yarach help, in the obnoxious gravity. Soon a slick sheen of sweat is covering her mingling with the blood. Tired, but in high spirits Sarah leaves the crew to finish clearing away the mess. Let the mighty engines of this leviathan destroy their tainted flesh and scour the heresy from their bones.

The good will of the passengers manages to score Sarah a few shots, of what she is unsure, at the bar and some painful slaps on the back. She sings loudly and drinks with the other lucky survivors. However Sarah's thoughts are on the mission and soon as she is able she slips out of the cheerful crowd leaving them to there celebrations. Sarah makes her way to the location that Alexei has commandeered as his Precinct arriving there by a circular route that allows her to enter from the other side of the conflict. Sarah had no doubt in her mind that some of the smarter individuals on the ship already had and inkling of what she was hiding. However it didn't do any good to discard the cover entirely. She cinched the rags tighter around her and flicked the hood over her face as she passed through the crowd that thronged at the edges of Alexei's domain. They had all heard what he had did by now, a good rumour always propagated. Why by the time she had left Circuit Breaker she had heard four different tellings of Alexei's heroics. Her favourite tale; was that he had grabbed the grenade and rammed it deep inside the surprised heretic. Yes today had been a good day and Sarah managed a smile for Alexei's bravery. It was a shame it was much easier to smile when he wasn't there.

Sarah swallowed hard, made a fair attempt and being sober and entered Alexei's precinct. Removing the hood and sitting down opposite him. They were nearly at Malfi final plans had to be made. She emptied her pockets of the looted filth and began sorting it while she spoke. It at least saved her meeting Alexei's eyes. Sarah ran over the plans Alexei had made thus far and told him as much as she could think of that would serve him usefully. She told him of the underhive town of Taj'ken and area she knew well and a good as any place to start there search. The nearby vault of Jericus and excellent place to use as a base while in the underhive. Of the Lax arbitrator, bloated and fallible that ran the local precint. Of the traders, scavengers and gangers that dwelled there. She tried her best to stick to facts and not wander from the truth when she spoke to Alexei. She doubted he would appreciate the soaring epic of Saragn's decent to the deeps and subsequent prosperity. When she was finished she sat still and set to work cleaning and repairing Amadeus pulling minute fragments of bone out of it with a tenderness usual reserved for the living. Sarah was ready only one question still dogged her mind.

"So when do we leave?"

bluntpencil

2013-04-14, 10:03 AM

Alexei shrugs at Sarah's question. He wasn't the frickin' pilot.
"Dunno. I assume the pirates might've screwed wi' any schedules we might have goin' on." He thinks over the information that she's gathered, and slowly nods, blowing stinking lho-smoke as he does so.
"Hmph. Not bad. We could start by investigatin' tha local Arbitrators, puttin' some pressure on 'em ta see if their boss is c'rrupt. Besides, if we pull it off right, we can order 'em about and get 'em diggin' fer info too."

ellna

2013-04-14, 10:24 AM

"It's a place to start. The local arbites defiantly lack you talents. I'm not sure if their is corruption there or just laziness. Either way you should be able to their aid willing or not. The people of Taj'ken might know something, asking them could turn something up I'm sure."

Sarah spins the golden cog around. Clicking her nails on the teeth as she does.

bluntpencil

2013-04-14, 10:29 AM

"Aight. Now, where tha hell is that frickin' Sinderfell? If I don't see him in an hour, there'll be charges o' desertion fer that highborn li'l swine..." Alexei covers up any worries of a potential fatality of those under his command with a harsh manner. It's entirely believable too, since he really doesn't like Sinderfell. Or most anyone, really.

LeSwordfish

2013-04-14, 01:23 PM

"I haven't seen Lupus since we got on board. He knows the objective as well as any of us, though."

Kaarli had dressed her wounds as best she could, and had rearranged herself back to a semblance of normality. She was carrying her dataslate, and appeared to be going over notes.

"I don't think I ever mentioned what a stroke of luck finding Rochelle was. She's working for a man named Asin, who's investigating the arson at his university. I was thinking we could pay or persuade her to pass any information she finds to us as well as him."

bluntpencil

2013-04-14, 01:35 PM

"Good thinkin', Remora," says Alexei with a click of his fingers, pointing at Kaarli.
"If Sinderfell has got himsel' dead, or has buggered off ta hide wi' tha bilge-rat-muties, ye're takin' his place on Sub-Cell: Wolves, aight? With yer connection ta Rochelle's mob, ye're best placed ta investigate tha university burnin' up, too."He pauses for a moment, and blows a pretty decent smoke ring, which he seems quite proud of,
"Watch this 'Asin' fella, though. If he's int'rested in what we're lookin' inta, he's maybe dang'rous."

LeSwordfish

2013-04-14, 02:13 PM

"Good point. I'll instruct Rochelle to keep an eye on him too."

At the mention of the mercenary, Kaarli rubbed a badly bruised wrist with her bionic hand. She saw Alexei see the gesture and blushed.

"Rochelle's not the best medicae. But she tried hard... and she was very apologetic."

bluntpencil

2013-04-14, 02:21 PM

Sitting on his stool at a fold-out desk, Alexei continues to puff on his smoke as he concludes the little meeting. He very visibly suppresses a snigger when Kaarli mentions Rochelle's lack of medical training, but doesn't speak of it further,
"Aight, ladies. Meetin's over. Ye both know yer drill, so go lick yer wounds an' get ready fer stage two." As they move to leave, he remembers to add in,
"Remora! Report ta tha sanctioned witch-boy fer further medical treatment. His file says he's... well... ah, crap, it says he'll magic ye better, aight? Tha Imperium needs ye at a hunner percent, unfortunately."

ellna

2013-04-14, 02:59 PM

Sarah stood up to leave at Alexei's command. She wrapped up the usable or saleable items up within her rags. The obviously warped or heretical items lifted from the pirates she put on Alexei's desk. She seen his effect on such items before and trusted him, in this. Pulling her hood back up Sarah winced as the wretched cloth brushed her fresh skin.

Sarah waited a moment before slipping out after Kaarli and was past the crowd broke into a light jog to catch up. Her inquisitive mind had spied Kaarli's bionic arm. She hadn't noticed it until now, its design aptly mimicing the real thing. She fell in step behind her and coughed gently before speaking.

"Sister Remora, I couldn't help but notice your arm... and well I was wondering..." Sarah was obviously embrassed, not unware that this might be a sensitive issue, but still the liquor emboldened her and she asked. "I was wondering what it is like. To have a mechanical limb. Is it stronger, can it feel?" It was clear Sarah was fascinated and had more questions, but she restrained herself and walked silently alongside Remora, while she waited for her response.

~~~

After Remora had replied Sarah began to ask more questions. Growing more confident with each one and as they were answered a smile came to her face as they walked together. "Can you move the fingers well? Is it difficult to control? Does it move on its own or you need to direct it? Who made it? Does it often require repair? Can it feel heat? Cold? Can you open a bottle with it, crush metal, peel open a door? Does it feel pain, sense damage? How is it attached? Is it cold, what does it feel like? Can I touch it?"

Soon Sarah felt she had built a slight rapport with the priest and moved towards the tricky question. Sarah paused for a moment in her barrage of questions unsure how to phrase it. Simple is often best she decided. "How did you lose the flesh and bone one?" Her voice was more solemn at this question than the others, which she had fired out with the inquisitive nature of a child. She watched Kaarli's face carefully as she asked this question, watching to see if this was perhaps to personal, still unsure how she might react. Sarah didn't want to press the issue, but her curiosity hadn't been able to resist taking the chance and asking.

Henry the 57th

2013-04-14, 04:03 PM

Kaeli opts stay with the witch and assassin, but stays in the back, silent and ashamed of her relative failure to make a meaningful impact. She embraces the pain she feels as penance from the Emperor, and prays. She does not speak unless spoken to.

LeSwordfish

2013-04-15, 03:39 AM

Kaarli didn't answer at first, after a moment lifting her sleeve so Sarah could see the augumetic. The arm was slender and shapeless, a twist of pipes and rods, with wires running along them, the elbow bulky and whirring. The hand, by contrast, was ceramic, cracked for hinges like an articulated doll, or puppet. Kaarli flexed the fingers, letting Sarah see the servos in the wrist work.

"It can feel, a bit. I wanted it to be natural, so there's synth-nerves in the hand and fingers. They run up the arm, so I do feel pain in it, but not so much as normal. It's not stronger- in fact, since I got it I've put on some muscle, so it's weaker than my other arm. I can't open bottles or break metal with it. I think. If I disabled the nerves, maybe."

She twisted the wrist over and let Sarah see the back of the arm. "I control it, it's plugged into my spinal cord. It doesn't often need repair- I asked for a fairly simple one."

At Sarah's last few questions, Kaarli lapsed again into silence. Sarah was left wondering if she was planning to speak again, before she reached shuffled the crossbow off her shoulder and shuffled her shirt around, revealing her shoulder. Sarah nearly winced, despite herself- the whole shoulder, from the nape of Kaarli's neck to the edge of the augumetic was a mass of discoloured scar tissue and tight-stretched synth-skin.

"It was three years ago." Kaarli began. "There was a man, a real dyed-in-the wool bastard, like I hope I never meet again. His name was Crowne, and he was a hunter. But he hunted people."

Kaarli kept walking, shrugging her crossbow back on to cover up the fact that she was now shaking with anger.

"My people. My flock. He kidnapped three of them, and took them to his lodge in the badlands. I nearly got him. Hit him in the arm with my crossbow, tore the muscles. Far as I know, he'll never use that arm again."

"I followed, of course. Took a team, and tracked him back to his lodge. I nearly had him, but he pinned me. Just me and him, for a second, with my team on the way. He disarmed me, threw my hammer aside. He could have run. He could have killed me. But instead, he smiled, and said... "An arm for an arm." And he shot me, with a shotcannon, point blank range in the shoulder. Tore the arm right off."

"When I came to, I found my team had iced him. They were preparing me for an augumetic, and they had Crowne's entire estate to buy it with."

Kaarli lapsed into silence again.

"Oh, if you want to touch it, ...you can. The nerves are all sheathed."

ellna

2013-04-15, 04:01 AM

Sarah plodded along silently for a while. It was clear the pain in Kaarli's voice and the anger. She didn't need to ask to know she missed the real thing. "I'm sorry if I stirred up bad memories, it's just that I've never had to chance to see augments so close except Yarach and he is well a cogboy. I'm not sure he would understand the pain. I'm glad Crowne got what he deserved. Besides I like it, its a fine piece. I think I will touch it."

Sarah wiped one of her hands clean on the edge of her rags and stretched it out. Running her rough skin along the ceramic hand and over the pistons and rods. A smile flickered on her lips. Sarah withdrew her hand before it became unwelcome and fell back into step again.

Sarah spoke a while with Kaarli asking about her home and the people, what food she favoured and what she missed the most and answered
the same ones herself. Soon the approached where Marcus was and Sarah asked Sister Remora about the witch.

"Sister you serve him on terra. What do the books truely say about those sort? Do they really lack a soul? Its just it hasn't done anything aberrant yet and now even the Cap'n is making use of it. I worry that it may have some grand scheme that I am missing. I know it be a foul thing yet I have seen no evidence of such it and my thoughts I fear it has manipulated them to forget it's nature."

LeSwordfish

2013-04-15, 04:30 AM

"Psykers are a tool of the emperor's will, like a gun or blade. We shouldn't fear them."

The words rang slightly hollow.

"The emperor protects. I think... I think He wouldn't let our minds be affected like that. I think I trust the inquisitor, and the captain. And I trust in the emperor." They had nearly reached Marcus by now. "I hope that's enough."

"Which reminds me." Kaarli added, this time directly to the young Pskyer. "The captain said a psyk-weapon wouldn't work on him. Would you know anything about that. Is he shielded?"

ellna

2013-04-15, 04:42 AM

Sarah listened to the rhetoric that Sister Remora said. Just a tool, Marcus had said the same, should tools bleed. Sarah was coming to hate this psyker more, perhaps it was best if next voyage they stowed it in with the cargo. She was growing surer that his presence was corrupting her. With a start she realised they had arrived at Marcus. She scowled and took to fidgeting with her cog. Sarah looks uncomfortable at the question that Kaarli poses glad that it wasn't directed her way. She didn't know how much of what she had figured out was fact and what she was supposed to know. However now that the question had been asked she was curious of the answer.

Surface Thoughts for Marcus:As Sarah entered she was feeling angry at something, her weakness in dealing with the psyker. After Sarah notices Marcus she fills her mind with pain. Bright white light above, restraints biting into the arms and an overwhelming pain. Its a strong image and clear. Possibly a memory. It was clear that Sarah was actively working to keep it at the fore-front of her mind.

Strawberries

2013-04-15, 06:49 AM

The psyker gets up when both women approach. After a second, you can clearly see his mouth tightening in pain, just for a moment, before he shuts his eyes tightly and brings his expression back under control. He is standing very rigidity, and is carefully avoiding looking at Sarah for more than strictly necessary: he's keeping his gaze fixed on a far point between the two women's heads.

"No, ma'am, he... he's not. " He replies to Kaarli's question. He is not sure how much of Alexei's... peculiarities are supposed to be common knowledge for the cell, but he figures there is no harm in answering. After all, it's not like it isn't plain for all to see that there's something strange about the commanding officer."He is... He is the shield, ma'am. The Warp doesn't affect him. He... disrupts all the psychic powers around him. There are some people like that, but they are... rare, ma'am. Even rarer than Psykers. The captain is one of those. "

ellna

2013-04-15, 10:16 AM

Sarah wiped some rust off a crate a sat down. Watching the psyker with a spiteful glare. Alexei was the shield, she had figured as much, yet why did he make her skin crawl. More importantly why didn't that uncomfortable nausea spring forth from the wretch. Marcus revolted her sure enough, but was more insidious and cloaked in half-truths. Sarah needed firm ground to stand on with this. A tool, definitely, but a dangerous tool. One that should remain tightly leashed. Yet... Sarah shook her head clearing the thought from her mind and began to load fresh spikes from her bandoleer into Amadeus. Each metal lump making a pleasant click as it slotted in. She sat watching and waiting in silence.

Urist

2013-04-15, 11:12 AM

Yarach walks slightly behind the Captain, allowing the Captain to relay his orders to the team. As they are dismissed, he moves to stand next to Alexei, and sketches a salute.

"This unit assumes that this unit is commanding the upper-level team, Captain? Does this one have any particular orders? As well, how are the two subcells expected to open communications protocols in the event of necessary intercell traffic?"

Yarach nods at the receipt of any special instructions, and offers another salute, crisper this time.

Orders received, Captain. May these ones meet with great success, and make the Omnissiah and the Emperor proud.

Turning on his heel, he walks after Sarah and Karlii, coming in upon the tail end of their conversation. Although he clearly hears the slurs and accusations leveled against Marcus, he does not directly acknowledge them; rather, he salutes each member of the cell in turn, starting with Marcus.

"Greetings, comrades. Are all of these ones reasonably healthy? This vessel, by the grace of the Omnissiah, should be making planetfall in the near future. Make ready to depart at a moments notice. If any units require interface, this unit is retiring to the Enginarium to complete packing preparations."

As he turns to go, he looks back, as if he had forgotten something. Sweeping his gaze across the cell, he finally stops on Sarah, his gaze not hostile, but intent.

"A thought this unit had today as he was meditating upon the Omnissiah's infinite grace: some tools are dangerous, but all tools deserve respect; for without them, these ones are incapable of the Omnissiah's work."

With that, he turns and walks away, muttering in binary as he goes.

bluntpencil

2013-04-15, 11:22 AM

"Aight, ye're in charge of Sub-List: Wolves, aye. I'd suggest tha' Unit: Remora take tha role of a noble, an' tha rest o' yer be her ent'rage.

Regardin' comms... aye, should ye wish ta meet up ta discuss what's goin' down, code word over tha vox is 'Argument', Sarah'll designate someplace quiet fer tha meet-up. Or, send a couple o' Rochelle's mob wi' a message.

Should ye be in trouble, or somethin' else goes wrong, an' there's an emergency, needin' assistance, code word is 'Typical'.

We'll use tha same codes." Alexei is happy to let the Wolves do as they like, but does offer a suggestion. He obviously wishes to keep communications to a minimum, to prevent any leaks of intelligence, but also, obviously, wants to set up an emergency fail-safe too.

LeSwordfish

2013-04-15, 12:24 PM

"He is... He is the shield, ma'am. The Warp doesn't affect him. He... disrupts all the psychic powers around him. There are some people like that, but they are... rare, ma'am. Even rarer than Psykers. The captain is one of those. "

Kaarli thought about that for a second. "Sounds like quite a skill." She nodded to sarah. "Remember that, when you're down in the hive. Could come in handy."

"More immediately, though, the captain ordered me to let you heal me." "Let you" sounded insulting, but she couldn't think of a better way to say it. "So... yes. My arm's nearly broken, and i think so are a couple of my ribs..." she made a brief consideration based around "what's the worst that could happen" "...but I think it's mostly alright."

Even so, she offered up her arm with more than a little trepidation.

Strawberries

2013-04-15, 12:52 PM

@LeSwordfish: what was wrong with "ask you to heal me?" Grumblemumblecomplain stupid inhuman work conditions :smalltongue:

Marcus hesitates for just a fraction of second. He may have repressed a sigh, but it's difficult to tell: he is obviously still keeping every bit of his expression and posture under strict control "Yes, ma'am. Of...of course." He steps closer to her, briefly biting his lips before touching her. He spares a brief glance to Sarah, wishing she would stop directing images at him: it's clear that she's doing it on purpose, and it is painful and distracting... he doesn't think she's likely to stop, even if he pointed that out, though. "It's easier if you don't move, ma'am."

Alright.... pleasedontscrewthisup pleasedontscrewthisup pleasedontscrewthisup....

Invocation [roll0] vs 70
[roll1], as usual threshold 7 and other 5 if the test is successful

ellna

2013-04-15, 01:44 PM

Sarah looks at her nails as Yarach speaks. She knows that his words are true. Emperor blast it, that filled her with only more anger. She had failed another test. Frakkin' witch... Frakkin' Marcus.

Sarah nods at Kaarli. "Most useful, I've seen it work on Heretek. He twists the metal like lho." She then settles back and clicks Amadeus' bulky magazine into its receiver. Sarah quickly wraps Amadeus back up neatly in the rags and looks down the corridor after Yarach. Sarah then stands swings Amadeus' over her shoulder and watches Marcus' healing. Turning the golden cog in her fingers all the while. She meets Marcus' nervous glance with a scowl, her free hand resting on the pistol at her hip in a threatening manner.

Strawberries

2013-04-15, 05:19 PM

The boy closes his eyes again, forcibly directing his attention away from Sarah and trying to concentrate. He reaches out for the Warp, again, starting to direct it towards setting Kaarli's injuries, and he almost immediately realises that there's something wrong, that it isn't his will that's controlling the Warp, this time. Too loud he barely has the time to think... and the familiar hum turns into voices, a cacophony of sounds and whispers, teasing, taunting, mocking...

Emperor on Earth, please, not again...Marcus releases Kaarli's arm as if he's been burned, an horrified expression on his face. He's gone even more pale than usual, and he' shivering, badly. "Ma'am, I... I didn't... I didn't mean... are you... are you alright, ma'am?" he starts, hastly, obviously still in shock, and then, as if realising that nothing he can say is going to make any difference. "I am sorry, ma'am, I... it was my fault. I lost control." He is standing rigidly, as if he's expecting to be shot at any moment.

bluntpencil

2013-04-15, 05:54 PM

Alexei leans back on this stool as this goes on, not noticing the outbursts from those running by. Today had been a good day, all in, aside from the injuries sustained by his subordinates; they just made it funny on top of the glorious killing, really.

He could get used to being in charge, he reckons. Sure, he didn't have any real talent for leadership, but they did seem worried enough when he was around. Being feared generally didn't suck too hard. Okay, Wulfgar wasn't afraid of him, but he wasn't too bad. He had a fair idea of who to gut, he did. Weird bastard that he was...

Henry the 57th

2013-04-15, 06:10 PM

Kaeli is deep in prayer when she feels the whispers of the Warp enter her head. She hears voices, inhuman and evil, whispering to her in every tongue imaginable: human, xenos, and tongues that could not possibly be pronounced by any mortal creature. A normal person would scream, or cry, or run. Kaeli does none of those things. Instead, she does what she was always taught to do - she prays.

A faint golden light surrounds Kaeli, for the slightest flash of time. She feels the glow of the Emperor's Light within her. The warm sensation spreads throughout her, purging the faint taint of the Warp coming from around her. Just as quickly as they appeared, the daemon voices in her head vanish. Kaeli opens her eyes to see the witch looking horrible, shaking, and standing rigid. Possession? comes her first thought.

Even as she thinks, her reflexes are already in motion. With a swift motion she draws her sacred boltgun, leveling it at the psyker. "On your knees! Hands behind your head!" she yells.

Strawberries

2013-04-15, 06:29 PM

Marcus complies, quickly, having expected the order. He's still shaking, not for the fear of getting executed, but from the realisation of how close he's come to make something irreparable happen... how close he's been to hurt those people. He doesn't raise his eyes to meet anyone's gaze, looking fixedly at the floor in front of him. He doesn't say another word. He doesn't think there is anything he can possibly say.

Henry the 57th

2013-04-15, 06:38 PM

Kaeli inches closer, wanting to bind the Marcus' hands but not wishing to get close to what might be a daemon possessing his body. She keeps her gun leveled at his head. "Repeat what I say, exactly." she says, before reciting several of the most sacred passages of scripture she can think of. If he can say that, he's probably not possessed...

bluntpencil

2013-04-15, 06:45 PM

Alexei scrambles to his feet quickly, spitting out his smoke and rushing to meet the others. On his arrival, the atmosphere seems to both clear, the immaterial voices disappearing, and tense up at the same time, the mere presence of the Captain making everyone's neck hairs rise.

He nods at the Battle Sister, seeing that she has the situation in hand,
"Carry on. As ye were." No point in taking command here, problem seemed dealt with.
"No executions wi'out my say-so, aight? Beat-downs are at yer own discretion."

Strawberries

2013-04-15, 06:55 PM

"Yes, ma'am.". It's barely more than a whisper. Still without raising his gaze to meet hers, Marcus complies, repeating the scriptures after her - apart from his voice trembling, he doesn't seem to have any problem in following her.

Even if he hasn't raised his eyes from the floor, he stiffens as soon as Alexei enters the room, even before he can hear the captain's voice. Considering what he's told Kaarli a few minutes ago, it makes a sort of sense that he can perceive the man's presence... if anybody's stopping to think about that.

Henry the 57th

2013-04-15, 07:03 PM

Kaeli makes her decision, and darts forward in a sudden burst of speed. She grabs Marcus' hands in a quick maneuver, pinning them to his back before binding them securely in place. She yanks him to his feet, bolter pressed to the back of his head. "Explain. Now."

ellna

2013-04-15, 07:59 PM

Sarah watches, Marcus' attempt at healing and when the warp fills the room with voice Sarah is the last to act. She continues scowling at Marcus a flicker of annoyance crosses her eyes. Suddenly Kaeli moves, her bolter rising with an adept ease. Marcus recoils from Kaarli, spouting apologies. Barked commands from Kaeli and obedient action from Marcus. Sarah stands there flat-footed, unsure and clearly shocked. The gleaming cog slips from her fingers glistening with a drop of blood. Sarah, finally, flicks off the latch on the holster and begins to tug her pistol free. As brain catches up with floundering reflexes the pistol stops and then drops back into its holster.The sound of chanted scripture breaks through. Sarah watches the witch kneeling before a bolter's barrel and fails to suppress a sneer, that Sarah hastily covers with her hand feigning scratching her torched skin. The blistered skin flares in pain under her jagged nails.

Then Alexei storms in. Sarah's eyes tighten and both her hands snap down to her sides. She hastily forms a face that is clear and alert. Hiding all traces of uncertainty and ignoring the itching sensation creeping between her shoulder blades as she faces Marcus. Staring intently at his face. No trace of a smile remains on her scarred face and deadly intent flashes in her eyes. After Alexei's words Sarah allows her mask to relax and a sly grin sprouts on her face as she picks a wall to lean against and listen to Marcus' explanation.

Strawberries

2013-04-15, 08:48 PM

"I was trying to heal a-agent Remora, ma'am. " He does look at Kaarli, then, just for a second, in an attempt to make sure she's alright, an unmistakable flash of concern in his expression before he forces his gaze back down. " I reached for the Warp and I... I l-lost c-control, ma'am. It is my fault, and I will accept any consequences. " The last bit of the sentence has a sort of rehearsed quality to it, like he's told those same words more than once. He doesn't mention Sarah and the images that she was throwing at him, even if they have probably had a part in making him lose focus: that's NOT an excuse, and he's aware of it: he was trained to use his powers in the middle of a battle, he shouldn't have allowed the feedback from Sarah to distract him so.

Henry the 57th

2013-04-15, 10:12 PM

"If you cannot even control your powers outside of combat," Kaeli whispers softly into Marcus' ear. "Then tell me, what good are you to the Emperor?" The barrel of the bolter moves slightly and presses down a bit.

Strawberries

2013-04-15, 11:14 PM

There are tears in the young psyker's eyes, even if he's obviously making an attempt to keep his emotions under control: the Sister is right, of course she is, and what she's telling him is nothing that he hasn't told himself already. Marcus shakes his head " I have no excuses, ma'am. " he repeats, quietly but without stammering at all, and then he doesn't say anything else. He doesn't seem to register the increased pressure from the bolter, or if he does, it seems to be something that he was expecting.

Yup, he's definitely expecting to get shot. Thing is, he's not really upset about THAT... he's kinda taking it as a given, really. :smallsigh:

Henry the 57th

2013-04-16, 12:20 AM

The urge to pull the trigger is overwhelming. Everything about Kaeli, from her temperament to her faith to her training, tells her that witches are an abomination, a highly dangerous tool at best. And this one has show such weakness. To invite the voices of daemons into reality in such a simple, non-combat situation... Just the slightest movement and the witch dies. Kaeli's finger twitches on the trigger.

The chance is tempting, so very tempting. But... Kaeli hesitates. Marcus isn't fighting back, isn't attempting to save himself or make excuses. And he is clearly shaken by it. Perhaps he isn't totally corrupt. And he speaks the words of scripture yet. No daemons reside inside him.

Kaeli thinks of the Inquisitor. Clearly, she believes that he is useful. He hasn't turned, and he is clearly remorseful for his actions. He might yet be useful. To throw away a tool of the Emperor's while it still serves is a sin. Kaeli blanches at the thought. Slowly, reluctantly, she lessens the pressure of the bolter on the back of Marcus' head.

He may not be totally corrupt, but his failure is still great. What if next time it is more than merely the voices of daemons? Kaeli narrows her eyes. But the risk of losing a tool of the Emperor's Holy Inquisition is too great. For now. I must remain alert and pray for the Emperor to guide my actions.

Kaeli makes a hostile face and kicks Marcus hard in the back, causing him to fall face down on the ground, his hands still bound. "For now, by the Emperor's Mercy, you live. See to it that you do not repeat your mistake." Kaeli says, as she replaces her bolter in its holster.

DaedalusMkV

2013-04-16, 04:15 AM

Wufgar only catches the second half of the scene, being largely unaware of the unfolding drama until the shouting started. He watches quietly for most of it, but when Kaeli kicks Marcus to the ground, the First Blade steps forwards and announces himself with an exaggerated cough. "I have no clue what that was about, Sister, but I would like to remind you that Acolyte Lumen is currently still in a serious state of injury. I have no desire to interfere in the business of a Battle Sister, but I would suggest refraining from any violence unless you intend to cripple him." Looking down at the bound Psyker and at Kaarli, he considers the situation, then continues quietly. "Perhaps, if someone asks for a miracle, they should not be unprepared when it comes at a cost... If more contemplated the cost of deliverance, the Blessed Blades would not be needed."

Having delivered his warnings, both practical and cryptic, Wulfgar stands back and watches again. His faith would never allow him to actively oppose a loyal Battle Sister, so in the end the choice is Kaeli's. It would be a shame indeed to have all of his work with Lumen be negated, but there is little he can do without spilling the blood of one of those most loyal to the Emperor, a sin which he refuses to take part in.

LeSwordfish

2013-04-16, 04:15 AM

Kaarli recoiled from the psyker. She could hear her bones knitting together, and what was more, she could hear them whispering. Daemonic, hissing voices, promising vile things. She clapped her hands over her ears, but that didn't block out the voices.

Which means they're already in my head.

Kaarli wanted nothing more at that point than to run: to retreat from the psyker, the creature who had done this to her. Instead, as Kaeli and Sarah both drew their weapons, Kaarli put a calming hand on each of their shoulders. She didn't trust herself not to throw up if she spoke aloud, but she muttered the scripture along with Marcus.

As Kaeli withdrew her bolter, Kaarli leaned forward and undid Marcus' bindings. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done.

bluntpencil

2013-04-16, 06:39 AM

"Worse than frickin' plasma guns!" moans Alexei. He figured that was what Marcus was like. A dangerous weapon, prone to overheating, exploding or inadvertently summoning daemons, apparently.
"We're done here. No more o' these magickin' shenanigans fer now. We've a job ta do." Pfft, what was the big deal? Sure, the boy probably screwed up, but it's not like a shock maul to the kneecap wouldn't sort it if it got out of hand, right?

LeSwordfish

2013-04-16, 06:49 AM

"Right." Kaarli said distractedly. "I just need to speak to Rochelle, and then I'm ready to disembark."

She still felt a little nauseous, but it was passing, particularly with Alexei's presence. A useful skill, indeed.

Strawberries

2013-04-16, 07:34 AM

Marcus gets up, slowly, not looking anyone in the eyes. He just nods once in thanks towards Kaarli when she unbinds him, but he doesn't say anything else. He doesn't trust himself to speak.

Henry the 57th

2013-04-16, 07:54 AM

"Your advice is heard, assassin. And, that you may know, what he did was summon the voices of daemons inside this room. Inadvertently, I believe, or he would not still be alive."

Kaeli decides to ask Sarah what she found on the enemy corpses, then asks for a few items for herself. "If you do not mind, I could use those gauntlets, a pict-recorder, and that light to do the Emperor's work."

ellna

2013-04-16, 10:49 AM

Kaeli decides to ask Sarah what she found on the enemy corpses, then asks for a few items for herself. "If you do not mind, I could use those gauntlets, a pict-recorder, and that light to do the Emperor's work."

Sarah guiltily riffles through her bulging pockets and pulls out the items, checking them once again for obvious defects before handing them over. She does her best to ensure the she gives the best ones to Kaeli both as a silent thanks for the actions of the Sister and due to the fact the ones she keeps are soon going to be either junk or in the hands of some under-hive trader. As she hands over the bulky gauntlets she wonders if it appropriate to remove the traitors hands first and decides that they can be a macabre bonus to this transaction.

"Good work with Marcus, I feel much safer with you here. And Sister Remora I enjoyed our chat I'll see you safe after the mission, eh." Sarah nods pleasantly to Kaeli and then to Kaarli before turning and heading for the mechicarium hoping to catch Yarach along the way. Sarah still needed to pack her things to and most of the loot bulging in her pockets needed to be broken down and stowed before it tore her pockets. She would love to impart a final gibe for Marcus as she leaves, but now... is not the time and besides she couldn't think off anything better than his own failing. Yes there certainly is a jaunt in her step as she heads away.

Henry the 57th

2013-04-16, 11:00 AM

Kaeli actually smiles a bit as she removes the traitor's hands from the gauntlets. "You know what I like to see." she tells Sarah as she fits them on over her armor.

ellna

2013-04-16, 11:05 AM

Kaeli actually smiles a bit as she removes the traitor's hands from the gauntlets. "You know what I like to see." she tells Sarah as she fits them on over her armor.

This earns a snort of laughter from Sarah. Kaeli was all right in her book.

Miraqariftsky

2013-04-19, 01:00 PM

In the time that Alexei had conducted the Acolytes' briefing, klaxons had blared and an automated message droned over the hold's intervox system. "WARNING. GRADUAL REACTIVATION OF ARTI-GRAV SYSTEMS COMMENCING. PLEASE SECURE FOOTING AND LOOSE ITEMS. PRAISE THE VOIDFATHER. WARNING."

True to form, despite some spots of grumbling from passengers and locals, order is restored. Cargo-servitors re-stack and re-bind toppled cargo-stacks. People prepare to strap themselves and their belongings down or at the least put mag-boots on or get to emergency hand-rails.

~~~

Through the dissolving chaos of the crowd,
A now-withered Lupus stalks, supported
By an aquiline fur-and-flak clad woman
Long-betrothed, and professor,
Or so she says while Lupus
Coughs his apologies
For failings and poisonings by mutant scum
Wheezes that he opens his estate's doors
For aid and lodging, should they need it

Just then, a troop of redshirts comes
Half-floating, half-tromping
Shotguns and lascarbines shouldered
Invites the heroes to the officers' mess

Whoever of the battered band avails of the offer
Finds a decked-out table and fawning officials
All too soon disgusted by frak-manners
And angry eating
Yet still grateful---
---or terrified,
Kaeli's briefcase refilled
And Rochelle's pockets too
With Throne-notes aplenty and bonuses beside

Too used to bleak survival from the Chalice of Fire
Maria-Lydia can't help but grin and stuff herself
Too used to rat-soup and rat-bones
Kells can’t help but grin at grox
Too used to cell-gruel
Matthew pants

Then a window-shield grinds open
Sliver of spinning station’s steel at one side
And swirling yellow-grey clouds across
A grey-brown, myriad-lit globe
Slowly hoving into view
A cruiser of black and gold
Cannons and holy pennons bared
The Fleur-on-Skull proud upon its beam
Just then the door hisses open
Stomps in, a Sister of Battle
In full ceramite-and-microfusion kit
Closed helm clicks open, smiles at Kaeli,
“Well, well, well! Ave Imperator, Sister.
What grace, the Emperor’s will,
That across the sea of stars
Do we meet again.”
Behind her,
A servitor
Drags
A marked, wheeled crate

~~~

The shuttle-ride to the surface, otherwise smooth
Cutting through the Malfian night
Suddenly bucks, churns
Explosions blast the clouds
Screams pant over the vox and mad scuffling
Then silence
Myriad-hued firebursts bloom and crackle outside
The shuttle shudders
Then rights itself
Copilot apologizes for pilot’s PTSD
Triggered by Malfian fireworks
Celebrating the birthday
Of the local lord-governor

~~~

Later on, down in the milling of the starport below,
Through the crowd, a hand finds Sarah’s shoulder
Shyness gone, book-learning a blur,
Longing lips find the rogue’s
One last time, then part
Over four hands
Clasped over
An Aquila

~~~

After cutting through revelers’ traffic
Two vehicles arrive
One outside a fortified precinct
Guard outside taking but a glance
At the crate, the papers, the Captain
And waves them in
The other outside a compound
Where grass and trees
Make an oasis amidst steel and concrete
A suspicious browncoated guard asks of their business

bluntpencil

2013-04-20, 12:30 PM

Alexei stamps past the Arbites guard without a word, simply pointing and having some men move in and shift the supplies. He had written in the notes for the shipment that, yes, he had helped himself to some minor pieces of equipment, as it was necessary to help in protecting said shipment, when it hadn't even originally been assigned a guard. This was, apparently, unacceptable, and would not happen in the future if the local Judges and the like were in any way competent.

He looks to both Wulfgar and Sarah, and simply says,
"Report ta tha med-bay. Underhivers are like frickin' sharks, they'll smell yer blood." It was true. He was an Underhiver himself, what with Volg being one giant cesspit of an Underhive for the likes of Magnagorsk and Nova Castilia, so he knew. Throne knew where he ever learned what a shark was. Maybe it was some sort of monster that swam in Volg's sewer-canals, with a taste for human flesh? Who could tell?

bluntpencil

2013-04-21, 06:33 AM

After ordering the First Blade and 'Inquisitor' Jackal to get patched up in the med bay, Alexei sees about having a word with someone whom he knows is already here: Detective-Espionist Andrea Kollontai.

She could be relied upon. She'd given him and the boys some good leads back on Fenksworld, and owed him a favour (or three) after that incident involving a Pit Thing that had escaped from an underground arena.

Still, even though she was an upstanding copper, she had only got here maybe three months back. She wouldn't have her network of informants fully set up. Not yet, anyway. Being one of those Divisio Immoralis types had her shifting precincts a lot, and she didn't really get the proper resources. That being said, she was good at her job, and dedicated to boot. Say what you want about those drunken losers, but don't say they aren't dedicated.

Barging into her little office, before even visiting the Precinct's commander, Alexei, of course, gives her something of a shock,
"Sh*t! You're alive?!" she exclaims, spitting out her mouthful of black recaf.
"I get that a lot," he responds, gruffly as ever, lighting up a smoke. He considers tossing her a cigarette too, but doesn't bother. To hell with sharing, Throne knew where his next pack of lho would come from.

She furrowed her white eyebrows. She looked maybe thirty years old - the rejuve treatments and the surgeries afforded to intelligence operatives like herself made her look much younger than she actually was (some said she was over a century old, but not to her face). She didn't dye her hair unless she was undercover though. Dying it for sitting in her office doing paperwork would be simple vanity.
"What the hell do you want, Alexei? Cashing in on that little favour I owe you?" He nods in response, and she swears at him, of course.
"I've already paid you back three times over, you son of a bitch." She obviously doesn't believe what she was saying, and the Captain knew it.
"I don't give a damn, Kollontai. Ye could dance on tha table if I told ye ta, an' ye'd still owe me."He was right. She did owe him. Still, there was only so much she could do for anyone right now.
"Right, okay. Tell me what the hell you want, and I may be able to help you..." she says, with a pause at the end,
"And no, I'm not going to dance on the bloody table, you bastard."He snorted. The old girl was pretty funny. Sure, she obviously doesn't like him much, but she was one of those dutiful types. She knew fine that Captain Britanov might be the most horrific person she'd ever met, but he was on her side. And he'd saved her boys on Fenksworld when he wrestled with that freak monster. You could be as rude and horrible as you like, if you used your carapace helm to headbutt a giant, frenzied mutant-thing, as far as she was concerned.

Introducing Detective-Espionist Andrea Kollontai, Alexei's Contact. Should this not be cool, can delete the post, but should be okay, I guess.

ellna

2013-04-21, 07:35 AM

Sarah steps out of the vehicle still groggy from the violent shuttle journey and the prolonged company of Alexei. His constant presence had almost managed to diminish the joy she felt once again stepping forth onto Malfian metal. Stretching her back and taking a deep breathe she managed a weak smile.

Her hair has managed to grow out from the tangled mess it was aboard the ship and now tickles her shoulders. At some point she had got ahold of some vibrant dye and her hair now sports an electric blue colouring. The flesh on her face has healed well, leaving only a scar and a warping of the skin around it. Beneath her coat a wealth of stolen weapons rest, as many as she has fingers hanging from her webbing.

Sarah starts after Alexei following him into the precinct. She looks around trying to spot a familiar face anywhere amid the sea of Arbites.
"Report ta tha med-bay. Underhivers are like frickin' sharks, they'll smell yer blood."Sarah nods to Alexei and leaves going to the med-bay glad of the excuse to away from Alexei. She knows the way already.

http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2010/079/a/d/Reira__s_dream_by_punkypeggy.png

Henry the 57th

2013-04-21, 12:38 PM

Kaeli spends a good deal of time in meditation and prayer in her new armor, personally consecrating it as best she is able. When, at last, she feels that it is as ready as it will ever be, she goes to seek out Sarah.

"I'm afraid I now have little use for my old armor and these gauntlets. Perhaps you would care for them?" Kaeli asks.

"To wear, not to sell." she adds after seeing the inevitable glint in Sarah's eye.

LeSwordfish

2013-04-21, 03:19 PM

Malfi Oberuniversitariat

Kaarli was wearing clothes that were more expensive than everything she owned, and standing in the finest place she'd ever been.

Gone were the battered boots, the ragged street clothes, the threadbare scarf, replaced with clothes so fancy she couldn't even name them. Topping them off was a fur coat, thick and luxurious, and kid gloves. She flexed her bionic fingers, and they looked completely natural.

Gone was her hammer, and crossbow, replaced with a compact pistol in the small of her back. If a fight broke out, she'd be on her wits and her concealed blade.

She returned her attention to the man in front of her, and reminded herself just how the full-on, upper-class accent she'd been practicing went.

"Ah, yes, my good man. We'd like to speak to the dean, regarding a matter of great importance."

Close enough.

DaedalusMkV

2013-04-21, 09:49 PM

Wulfgar looks around carefully, no longer impressed by the sheer scale of the steel caves he walks among. Simply another warren of corruption to be cut free, yet more degenerates cluttering the streets and filth in the gutters. In the end, everywhere he goes, the First Blade finds the same thing; grounds to hunt, prey that deserves hunting. He simply nods in response to Alexei's warning, adding quietly. "Let them. Any who attempt to stalk me will become well-acquainted with the sight of their own blood." Nonetheless, he complies. Still bearing the patch of a deputy Arbitrator, given to him on the ship by Alexei, he makes his way into the Arbites precinct, cloak swirling around him, and looks for the medical bay to see if they can provide any aid for his still-healing, fairly fresh injuries.

Basically, following orders.

bluntpencil

2013-04-22, 09:42 AM

After being quickly informed of what the good Detective-Espionist already knew was already going down in the area, and letting her know that he might have more questions later, Alexei figured he had best report in to his local 'superior'. Pfft. He only had one boss, and she wasn't even on the damn planet.

Still, he had to confirm the delivery of the gear, and get a feel for the Judge in charge. He'd explain his presence here as part of a 'Sector-wide investigation', and wave any questions away with the excuse being 'Classified beyond your rank' or something. Technically, that was true, after all. He just wouldn't mention the involvement of the Inquisition. That was unnecessary.

Basically, wanting a quick run-down of current events et cetera on Malfi. He isn't asking her to investigate anything yet.

He's then headed to speak to the CO of the Precinct Fortress.

ellna

2013-04-22, 12:12 PM

Shipboard:

Kaeli spends a good deal of time in meditation and prayer in her new armor, personally consecrating it as best she is able. When, at last, she feels that it is as ready as it will ever be, she goes to seek out Sarah.

"I'm afraid I now have little use for my old armor and these gauntlets. Perhaps you would care for them?" Kaeli asks.

"To wear, not to sell." she adds after seeing the inevitable glint in Sarah's eye.

Sarah attempts to hide her awe at the power-armoured sister. True she has seen power-armour before, on the mighty astartes and the inquisitor himself, but still she had to fight against standing like a slack jawed simpleton. She took the carapace from Kaeli silently valuing it in her head. A mercantile gleam in her eyes gives her away and she receives a chiding from the emperor's bride.

"Of course, I thank you sister I shall make use of them. You... won't be needing them back will you, I may have to make *ahem* alterations."

After receiving Kaeli's response she nods and makes her farewells to the sister. She remembers the heretic's screams as they roasted. That would keep her warm in the night. Sarah moves to shake Kaeli's hand before realising it would likely crush hers, she instead pats her arm and turns to leave pausing for a parting query. "Did you keep the hand?"

Henry the 57th

2013-04-22, 04:39 PM

Shipboard:
Sarah attempts to hide her awe at the power-armoured sister. True she has seen power-armour before, on the mighty astartes and the inquisitor himself, but still she had to fight against standing like a slack jawed simpleton. She took the carapace from Kaeli silently valuing it in her head. A mercantile gleam in her eyes gives her away and she receives a chiding from the emperor's bride.

"Of course, I thank you sister I shall make use of them. You... won't be needing them back will you, I may have to make *ahem* alterations."

After receiving Kaeli's response she nods and makes her farewells to the sister. She remembers the heretic's screams as they roasted. That would keep her warm in the night. Sarah moves to shake Kaeli's hand before realising it would likely crush hers, she instead pats her arm and turns to leave pausing for a parting query. "Did you keep the hand?"

"I shouldn't. But do be careful of what you alter."

Kaeli smiles slightly when asked about the hand. "Yes. Just a bit of preservative to keep it from rotting."

Sarah gains one suit of the Cameleoline Combat Armor (from Radical's Handbook) and the Arbites Gauntlets.

Urist

2013-04-29, 11:31 AM

Standing behind Kaarli, Yarach does his best to appear the typical noblewomen's tech-priest, his beautifully engraved sword, resplendent with the Cog-and-Skull icon of the Mechanicus, hanging openly at his waist to advertise his affiliations. Under his robes, though, his two pistols hang, close to his body, but accessible in an emergency; and his Vanaeheim remains slung over his shoulder, again beneath the robes, but accessible if need be.

He does not speak unless spoken to, careful to maintain the demeanor of a detached servant. Instead, he attempts to tap into the universities Noospheric Network, if they have one, and to gauge the level of sophistication of their networks defenses and data storage.

Rolling: Logic to aid in Tech-Use: [roll0]TN: 55
Tech-Use: [roll1] TN:55(65 if above test succeeds)

Strawberries

2013-04-29, 01:58 PM

Marcus doesn't say anything either, just standing slightly behind Kaeli. There isn't much of his demeanour he has to modify to fit in: his weapons are never prominently on display, and he is used to keep mostly in the background. He keeps his eyes and ears well open, though, as well as his mind, probing around for any sign of unnaturalness.

I think what I'm looking for are Awareness and psyniscience rolls here, am I?

[roll0] vs 34
[roll1] vs 44.

Both plus or minus whatever bonus/malus apply, obviously.

Miraqariftsky

2013-05-13, 02:39 PM

Around the Acolytes, the day's festivities continue as extravagant fireworks still play symphonies of fire and noise through the cityscape's smog-banks and bands of clearly intoxicated juve-gangers as well as off-shifters and slumming around while flanked by slab-muscled bodyguards. Scent-clouds of roasting food, of fresh filth, of gunpowder and rocket-spit, of booze and myriad drug cocktails drift as the wind blows.

(+10 from wind-diffusion. Further +10 to the two Hivers. Appropriate bonuses if somebody uses respirators or similar contraptions)
Toughness test, if y’all please. Failure means a miiiiiinor case of intoxicated lightheadedness, tongue-tripping and not-quite-stumbling gait.
Lasts for [roll0] hours.

The guard peers over the armourglass of his booth, dark-shaded eyes glaring at their... guests. The twitching of his brow and slight movement of his head seem to show a bit of surprise at their varied affiliations and the unconscious snort at the sleek, silver-bodied Olympus 944 luaxury transporter lifting off behind them and rising back to join the traffic of the flood-lit skylanes and flyover megahighways.

He kicks his partner awake inside the security booth and rattles their door open, soon enough standing at attention, autogun shouldered, but as he speaks, there still runs the slightest undertone of resentment quashed by resignation and respect. "Milady...? Uh, I'm sure your highness understands... Idents, please? Gorm, geddover'ere! Check 'em as standard! Sorry, ma'am, sorry! Ahem. Um... Right. The Dean, you said? For the record, ma’am, your intention of visit?”

The younger guard steps out, bows formally and says as he motions down the university’s main street beneath a canopy of strangely robust and likely imported trees, “This way, if you please…”

Meanwhile, the subcell’s two adepts patch into two different sources of power with far different results…

@Strawberries: Marcus takes a deep breath and opens himself up for the slightest moment to the immediate area’s collective consciousnesses. A miasma of muddled yet vibrant thoughts of revelry and relief, desire and violence, pride and throbs through his mind. Focusing further upon any hints of anything supernatul or different, he finds certain spots in the university to be strangely bereft of any psi-trace whatsoever. Above the hubbub of the district’s mundane citizens, he manages to taste fleeting glimpses of warpcraft, like familiar faces in a crowded metro, un-shining eyes in a rave party where all are screaming and dancing, the echoes of roosters crowing, like the brief flash of a sniper’s scope or the glint off an assassin’s blade, roosters crowing, roosterscrowingroosterscrowingroosterscrowing…

…and then six breaths later, Marcus’ eyes snap bolt-open beneath his hood, a hood now damp with cold sweat.

@Urist:

++AVE IMPERATOR. WELCOME TO THE…
++LOGIN REQUIRED.
++ENTRY CODE NOT UNDER LIST: STAFF. SECURITY ALE…
++OVERRIDDEN.
++PROCESSING…
++COMMAND UNACC…
++OVERRIDDEN.
++PROCESSING…
++EMERGENCY SECURIT…
++…PROCESSING…
++…PROCESSING…
++ACCESS DENIED. PLEASE TRY AGAIN AT THE PROPER TERMINAL.
++ACCESS DENIED. FURTHERMORE YOUR CYBERPROBES ARE FILTHY. PERFORM TWICE THE RITES OF CLEANSING, THEN TRY AGAIN.
++ACCESS DENIED. PLEASE CLEAN YOUR MEMORY CORES AND REFRESH YOUR SYSTEM. MAYBE YOU JUST FORGOT YOUR PASSCODES.
++AVE IMPERATOR. WELCOME TO THE MALFI OBERUNIVERSITAT. KNOWLEDGE IS POWER. GUARD IT WELL.
++LOGIN REQUIRED…

Several layers of security, with systems that are terminal-sensitive. Yarach’s logic also tells him that if he were to input high-level Inquisitorial or Magos-level clearances, then those would probably work… until the ones on the other end of the line verify that he doesn’t have the requisite credentials… or, going on the assumption that there is some guilty party somewhere in there, that they’re going to smell that something’s up and get spooked and hide or run away--- or get spooked and decide that these investigators are worth a quick and urgent assassination.

On the other side of things, a couple of hundred hive-levels below, several dozen cit-blocks away, Alexei walks out of his pet detective’s office with a dataslate whose display won’t quit reading “PROCESSING. PLEASE WAIT.”, much to Andrea’s groaning. Her grimace quirking into a smirk for one brief moment as she tosses him a fine Malfian cigar and a box of matches… “Came with the report from the Scrivener’s Star. Would have smoked to yer memory, but…”

@Bluntpencil:

When Alexei catches the box of matches, he sees that the brand of is Fine Print, a popular Volgite brand of matches, igniters, cigarettes, and penthrift dreadfuls. As well as street-lawyers. And the local in-joke that refers to

And on the faded blue recyk-paper of the matchbox’ interior, behind all the matchheads, Alexei’s trained eyes discern a small slip of what seems to be toilet paper with miniscule letters crawling across it.

Just the quick-and-dirty. Slate has the full. Chief Judge Pedro, dirty, but not yet proven. Many district-heads on the pay of either nobles or crimelords. Most Street Judges midhive and lowhive remain true, far as seen. Watusis hold slum-tracts 439 through 612--- sewer complexes, derelict industrials and waste-dumps. Use of warptech confirmed. Infantry-grade, at least a squad’s worth. Private detective, “Maggi”, poked Watusi hornet’s nest at behest of a noble client, but got whacked. Pulled my eye out of there, but one thing he was sure of before retreat--- those weren’t gangers. Inquisitorial Acolyte team, presently bunked at lowhive tract 444, some under cover as mercs contracted as Arbite auxiliaries for the local sewer watch.
BURN THIS.

Within the precinct-fortress’ stark iron walls, Wulfgar and Sarah are admitted nto the medicae clinic. Either word travels fast, or their idents had been marked by association with Alexei, as otherwise gruff officers had been almost eager to point them in the right direction, confirmed by succeedingly correct signage, and, soon enough, the symbol of Saint Asclepius on a pair of doors.

With the scent of contraseptic slowly replacing in their nostrils those of cordite and caffeine, steel and sweat, they are ushered into a remarkably clean ward by a fat nurse with an augmetic arm. The attending physician, a dour fellow with the bedside manner of a rockrete wall, then runs them through a battery of questions, physical examinations, medi-auspex scans, unguents and cleansers and antibiotics... as well as making them both lie down in a strange, humming metal coffin-like machine.

Several hours later, he lets them go with stern orders to rest and let the Emperor work his healing upon their bodies.

Restore [roll1] Wounds.
+0 Toughness test--- failure results in dizziness and disorientation for [roll2] hours.

Meanwhile, when Alexei finally barges his way into Chief Judge Pedro’s office, he finds a finely carpeted floor washed in the warm yellow of a dozen glowglobes. A many-chinned man grins over a Sinophian cigar, if Alexei is any judge of the aroma drifting through the room’s eddies of airconditioning. He pushes back his chair from his desk with a mighty creaking and says, “Ave Imperator, brother. If it ain’t the Hound himself! How may the pride of Malfi Prime aid in your doubtless stupendous investigation?”

Scrutiny +10
Yey! Sincere, wants to help. Thinks that Alexei’s reputation is fraudulent fame. Thinks that Malfi Prime will finish what Scintilla had begun.
Boo! Insincere, being sarcastic. Lulling him into a false sense of security now, going to get goons to whack ‘em off later. Or maybe there are already target-dots painted on Alexei’s forehead without his knowing.

bluntpencil

2013-05-13, 03:33 PM

Having lit his cigar with his contact's burning note, Alexei joins Judge Pedro in smoking, and then lets him know what he thinks, intimidatingly pointing at him with his own smoke. You could never trust a man that smoked Sinophian. Throne knew what they put in that crap.
"Just stay tha hell outta my way, aight? Yer record is on thin ice, so don't be pissin' me off, an' ye won't need ta worry too much."Fat piece of grox dung. He wasn't a proper cop. He flicks ash onto the carpet before continuing.
"An' hit the gym. Yer makin' us look bad. An' I don't mean tha good, terrifyin' kinda bad. I mean tha lazy, nine chins sorta bad." Alexei wants nought to do with this fatass, and certainly doesn't trust him. He was a sellout, and would probably have Alexei recycled into corpse starch rations if he had any spine at all.

Following this, Alexei heads off to get looked at by the doctors too. Of course, he's still smoking when he enters the med-bay, not giving a damn about any of the other patients.

Intimidate
[roll0] TN 50

Toughness after Medicae treatment
[roll1]

ellna

2013-05-14, 06:25 AM

Sarah suffers through the medicae's care in grim determination. Answering the questions with half-truths and lies. Her nostrils flaring at the stench of medical fluids. After being scrubbed clean to an almost molecular level and subjected to noisy premature burial Sarah's nerves are already starting to fray. Finally the treatment ends and Sarah nods numbly at the Medicae's fuzzy words. She scratches at the stitches in her arm and pulls herself from the bed as soon as the Medicae moves away.

Sarah pulls the straps tight as she works her freshly scrubbed body into the Sister's Carapace armour. She grins and swigs her arms around testing the fit and mobility. Not quite perfect, but pretty good. The fleur de lis would have to go and there was no way in the warp she could walk through the underhive in the reactive camoline without causing a stir, but damn it felt good. Sarah's nose wrinkled, she smelt incense. First opportunity Sarah had she was going to have jump in some refuse. She smiled and tugged on the rest of her gear. Soon holsters and bandoleers festooned her once again and her rags covered her new armour, even if they didn't mask the obvious shape of it. The helmet of course never hit her head staying tucked away in her bulging carry-all.

Sarah's eyes were still swimming independent of her skull. She put a Obscura-laced Lho stick to her lips. That at least would dismiss the nausea. The smallest part of Sarah's brain rebutted her before the flame met the stick. She might be in the worst arbite station planetside, but still not worth it. Plus there was her Captain to consider. She tucked the lho stick away and instead drained her flask making a grim face as she did so. Taking a deep breath she approached Alexei.

"Get what you wanted, Sir? We getting a ride? Sooner we get set up the sooner we can uproot the foul rot."

Urist

2013-05-14, 07:29 AM

Yarach's eyes flicker briefly, his attempts to access the noosphere cut short by firewall after firewall, with multiple layers of security. He snorts quietly, affronted by the sysadmins insinuation that he didn't observe proper security protocols while interfacing; did they think him a common scrapper, too illogical to don a protective shell? Well, he wasn't going to be accessing this university's systems without authorization any time soon.

He contents himself for now with remaining uninteresting, holding back and waiting for Karlii to continue the escapade.

LeSwordfish

2013-05-14, 01:50 PM

Kaarli raised her nose a few degrees and looked at the doorman down it. "I have heard stories regarding this establishment, and I wish to ascertain the truth. No relative of mine shall visit this establishment if the stories are true, let me assure you. But do lead on. I asked to speak to the Organ-grinder, not the simian."

Was that too much?

That was probably too much.

DaedalusMkV

2013-05-15, 01:14 AM

Wulfgar endures through the Medicae's actions with businesslike stoicism, answering any questions they have in short, to-the-point sentences and sitting silently through their examinations and scans, barely moving a muscle. It is useful, so the First Blade will ignore the unpleasantness of it all. When the time comes to rest in the coffin-like machine, Wulfgar spends the time in quiet prayer to the Emperor, making up for time lost in the intense business of the last few weeks. By the time he emerges from the medical bay he shows little indication of the physical disorientation suffered by the rest of his Cell, either his mental detachment or simply being used to such discomforts by now counteracting the effects of the medical procedures.

As the group meets outside the medical bay, the First Blade frowns both at Sarah's abortive move to smoke a Lho-stick and her going for the hip flask, but says nothing. Such impurities are the first steps on the road to Corruption, a pattern he's seen all to clearly in his time seeking suitable Offerings to the Emperor's Light, but she had been extended a trust by the Master, in full knowledge of such habits. Perhaps such habits might be useful in finding their prey on this world, and perhaps sometimes it takes a deviant to find one. When he does speak, his voice is mostly toneless and neutral. "Indeed. Captain, I can begin tracking our target as soon as you direct me where to begin the hunt."

bluntpencil

2013-05-15, 03:23 AM

When they have a moment alone, Alexei leans in close to both of his cell-mates. They can smell the reek of cigar smoke, and his whispered voice is harsh and unpleasant,
"We've got... complications, eh?

Tracts four-three-nine ta six-one-two are held by this Watusis lot. A squad's loada warp-guns are down there. That's all ta be expected though.

The awkward crap: We've got another cell workin' fer our lords an' masters in tract triple four. Assume they're hostile, fer security purposes, aight?

Some're posin' as mercs fer tha sewer sweeps. Be careful aroun' 'em. Trust only th' Emp'ror. Well, trust only the Emp'ror an' me."

ellna

2013-05-15, 04:46 AM

Sarah shifts uncomfortably at Wulfgar's frown. She scratches at the back of her neck as she moves her eyes away from his, flicking her vibrant hair.

When Alexei leans close Sarah is forced to steady herself against a wall. His presence akin to a thousand buzzing insects. The miasma of his smoke does little to mask his abhorrent aura. She glances briefly to Wulfgar before responding to the fresh news.

"Security purposes, Aye. Understood, Sir. Well now we know where the Watusi Syn are. We still have the holo-vid lead sir, but I see two possible routes to take with the Watusi. We need answers, we could either capture one for interrogation or infiltrate them. Either way we should check out of this place, it gives me the creeps." Sarah's voice sounds weak and she speaks in a hushed whisper.

bluntpencil

2013-05-15, 03:54 PM

Alexei nods, looking to Wulfgar, but buts in before he could add his piece,
"First thing's first. We watch fer a bit, don't get involved. Check out our 'pals', work out what they're upta. Don't reveal ourselves ta either group.

Then, hit hard an' fast, when they don't expect it, wi' the subtlety o' a thunder hammer ta tha jaw.

Should we need ta, we, heh, extract info from our so-called merc buddies. That shouldn't alert our targets, but hittin' one o' tha Watusis lot might just do that." He obviously holds no trust for their Inquisitorial comrades. After making this clear, he offers Wulfgar the chance to speak,
"What you reckon, First Blade? Ya reckons ye can take one alive? I don't like askin' ya ta spare tha enemy, but the brass wants questions dealt wi'."

Strawberries

2013-05-16, 01:40 PM

Marcus hides the instinctive shivering as he snaps back to reality, carefully taking a couple of steps to get closer to Kaarli. He doesn't say anything at the moment - there is no point in bringing attention to themselves- but he can stay near her and warn her as soon as something seems wrong. Which means that, however unpleasant the whole experience has been, he has to repeat it all over again. Marcus draws a deep breath, closes his eyes for just a second, and carefully extends his consciousness again.

Alright, what he's basically try to do is to find out if any of those "dead" spots are near enough... and then steer the others towards it, or warn them about it, at the very least. Psyniscience again, I suppose? [roll0] vs 44. Let's see how it goes.

Henry the 57th

2013-05-19, 09:07 AM

Kaeli does not see much she could do to assist Karli at the moment, and so opts to simply stand back, silent and still.

DaedalusMkV

2013-05-19, 09:33 PM

Wulfgar considers the question for a moment, seriously pondering. "Perhahps not with my current equipment, Captain. Nonlethal combat is not my specialty. Can you provide me with a tranquilizer or paralytic? I should be able to manage an ambush easily enough, and I would prefer to eliminate any risks." Considering again, he pauses for a few moments and narrows the request. "Either a knife poisoned with a paralytic agent or syringe-delivered toxin would be ideal."

bluntpencil

2013-05-20, 02:45 AM

The Captain nods, in thought,
"Aye, I'll see what I can do. Failin' tha', I reckon Sarah should be able ta get her paws on narcotics." Wulfgar had a good point, to be fair. They did need to plan ahead for this one.

Alexei will attempt to get knock-out drugs.
[roll0] Common Lore: Adeptus Arbites TN 40

He figures Sarah will be better at such, though.

ellna

2013-05-21, 07:34 AM

Sarah smiles at Alexei's words. She nods. "Acquiring narcotics is simple enough in these conditions. I would wager even in this hall of justice some of the men partake. We could always just render them unconscious the standard way." Sarah cracks her knuckles to emphasise the point.

Miraqariftsky

2013-05-23, 01:41 PM

At Kaarli's tongue-lashing, the security guard leadin them falls silent, only lifting his head when a black and white groundcar of the campus magistratum rolls towards, then past them. Rounding the street's bend, they pass by some apparently on-holiday students and faculty, some of them strolling, some jogging, some yelling and smashing about on the scrumball pitch.

From along the premier university's inner streets, there suddenly comes the sound of revving motors and screeching tyres. The noise comes quickly closer and closer, but just as the Acolytes reflexes begin to bring their guns to bear, the joyriding juves rapidly decelerate to a more respectful pace.

Presently, their guide leads them down several remarkably clean hallways of tiled floors and marble walls, past some garden-laid courtyards and finally coming up to an airconditioned inner-hall office. Glass doors swing inward, revealing a book-lined room, a plush carpet on the floor and heavy, leather-backed chairs. Wan light washes in from glassteel windows, augmenting the warm white glow of the flourescents within.

A short, bespectacled man in a tweed jacket sitting at a blackwood desk, paperwork and personal cogitator rustling.

When the doors open, he looks up at his visitors, one grey brow rising, before he himself stands with a hurried Aquila greeting. Squinting at what seems to be a noble patron--- a noble quality-investigator?--- including a Techpriest, a Battle Sister and... his furrowed gaze fixes on the unassuming Marcus, apparently already suspecting treachery. His eased breathing and ever so slightly relaxed shoulders betray what seems to be... relief.

Still, he fixes a smile upon his face and says while his fingers idly drum upon his desktop, "Officer Delavega. You are excused. Thank you for your diligence. Now, miladies. Sir. Be seated. Please. You said you were looking for the organ-grinder. Dean Horace Hallen, head of the Humanities Department, and acting-headmaster, since the late Emeritus Miro Gallo's unfortunate demise. Ahem. At your service."

He then stands and retrieves a tray bearing a steaming pot of recaff, half a dozen porcelain cups and a plate of sugary-crumbly cookies and cheesemelt-buns. "Well, then. What seems to be the problem? I suppose it's a matter of neither tuition nor curriculum, to warrant such ---distinguished--- escorting personages? And one of your stature as well, milady...?"

@Strawberries:
Specifically looking for the psi-deadzones, they've been getting closer and clos... oh, wait, they're right THERE. Here, and, based on one of the campus maps they'd passed, somewhere in the library. Not exactly a total psi-deadzone as would be the case if in the presence of a proper Blank, but Marcus is pretty certain any divination or telepathy would be severely hampered in these areas...
...still can be bypassed, apparently, given the proper application of technique.

Meanwhile, elsewhere... much to the displeasure and grudging obedience of the attendant Med-Judges and their other recuperating patients, Alexei, Wulfgar and Sarah set to, rifling through and ransacking storage cabinets.

A scowling orderly from the local quartermaster takes one look at Alexei, then decides it's not worth his neck, turns around and walks away.

Their roughshod search yields a standard medikit that, luckily, already has a stash of Department-approved narcotics, mainly stimmpaks and tranq-vials stuffed inside. They also find two stun-gas grenades, a marksman's rifle with tranq-darts and an autogun with magazines of rubber rounds.

Medikit--- standard contents, plus...
Detox--- [roll0]
Stimms--- [roll1]
Slaught--- 1
Frenzon--- 1
Tranqs, total--- [roll2]
Rubber rounds--- [roll3] magazines