Black Crusade: Heralds of Damnation [IC]

[Rising Chaos]

Time passes strangely in the warp...

It feels like only a day has gone by, a day since you watched in awe and horror as the flagship of your armada the Dreams of Agony ruptured under the withering hail of the Imperial battlefleet and ripped itself apart as it's shipboard munitions cooked and detonated. You all felt the shockwave rattle your frigate as the Grand Cruiser's plasma drives detonated, heard the screams of tens of thousands of souls dragged shrieking into the oblivion of the warp. A day since your 'Captain' Calyx Umbolt, fell out of formation and dragged you and every soul aboard the Voice of Pain away from void combat and fleeing into the warp with your tail between your legs. The good Captain had the foresight to lock down the bridge to prevent anyone from interfering with his plans, and so you've waited. Waited for what seemed like such a trivial amount of time.

An hour ago your ship finally plunged out of the warp, out of the seething world of the immaterium. However scant moments after your ship arrived warning klaxons began to blare and minutes later the lights across the ship powered down and the air temperature lowered several degrees, the telltale signs of a ship going into silent running.
During this time you've made a surprising discovery, what felt like a day has been closer to fifteen months. Whether it was the thick veil of death polluting the symphony of the warp as you jumped or the foul Imperial sorcery that pulled you so far across time is unclear, what is clear is the fact that you've lost over a year's worth of time in the span of what felt like a day.

Whatever you feel about this news is interrupted by the hiss of the ship's vox systems. Captain Umbolt calls for each of you by name, to assemble before him on the command bridge. It's time to get some answers...

[Brox]

"The tools are set, they just need to be put into motion and the truth will (once again) be revealed" thought Argus, finally placing the last bone-scraper delicately in place.

Each piece lovingly placed on the tray, each positioned to compliment the next, an artful display of agony inducing implements. A sudden wave of nausea washed over Argus, a shadow and a thought passing through his corrupted mind.

">sigh< So soon to the dull tedium of reality..."

The ship shuddered imperceptibly as it slipped out of the Warp.

"At least I have my music..right my darlings?"

Turning to a bank of cogitators he whispered thanks to his Lord and turned a dial, causing a neuro-toxic cocktail of chemicals and natural poisons to be pumped into a row of bound prisoners, setting up howls of pain through hoarse throats. The sounds were fed into the inducers strapped over their mouths, amplifying the pain and synchronizing their individual voices into a melodious whole.

"Confessor[crackle] Second-Class Voct to the bri[hisssssssss]dge"

"Ugh...can't a body have a moment of luxury?

I'll get into my armor, equip my weapons and head to the bridge.

[ArcturusV]

Roll up and roll out

Things had seemed fairly normal when the ship dropped out of the warp. Between carving up his own fief, and their earlier work as Arbiters across the Imperium, there wasn't a man among Talan's crew that hadn't gotten their void legs a long time ago. Walker seemed at ease with it as well, the horrors of the warp being more of a candy coated wonderland for his people, and never having had issues with the Xenos on a ship.

Silias napped easily, Walker was fiddling in the room with his shotgun, adjusting the sights and double checking it, Rankle was napping in Talan's pocket, like normal, Duke Talbot curled up at the foot of the bed, clinging to his shock maul, and Helki was sitting a the edge of Talan's bunk, staring at him, massaging his back. The Boss himself was laying down on his stomach, letting Helki help him relax on the trip, drifting in and out of sleep when he heard the Captain's summons.

... he grumbled something not quite fit for young ears, which brought a giggle from Helki, and started to rouse Silias from his rest. "Okay okay... seems our Captain Fathead finally wants the glory of my presence. Everyone arm up, suit up. Lets make a good show of this, eh?" He flashed a smile to his crew, and they hopped to it, well used to the drill. Helki and Silias helped Talan into his armor, while Walker made sure that Duke was good to go. About 6 minutes, and everyone was suited up in their armor, fitted out with their weapons. Duke shambling along aside Talan, Helki and Silias tucked into Wingman Position to his flanks, and Walker bringing up the rear. They looked like a regular, highly disciplined patrol, ready to roll out and just slaughter the enemy in good order as they made their way to the bridge.

[Col.Straken]

As the Voice of Pain broke out of warp Mordechai breathed a sigh of relief that was briefly crossed with regret. Somehow the Warp always heightened his Soul Sight, so that he almost sees the colours the world contains, but it also brings around the dreams. At least he thinks they are dreams, voices whispering into his ears about the corruption of humanity, revealing strands of fate, and clouding others, he was glad when the quietened and his vision returned to the simple shades of grey that his mind saw the world in.

When he heard his name called for attendance to the bridge he sighed again, having to sit in with a group of people all eager for blood made him nervous. As long as they didn't want his blood he was happy for them to stand toe to toe with the ones that were trying to kill him. Strapping his Chain Spear to his back, blades sticking up over his shoulder, underneath sat a cloak of magnificent colours, shimmering blues and purples, to reds and yellows, and other colours which defy explination. His hair was a greasy mess of black curls, covering the sigil branded into his forehead, he tied a royal blue ribbon across his colourless eyes as he knew how the disturbed so many people. Once he was ready, he set off making straight for the bridge eager to see what the Captain was after.

[Emperor Ing]

At this point, his patience was wearing thin.

Sevanix is a patient, calm fellow, always attempting to see a problem from almost every angle. If anyone would have been able to understand the fear and despair that wracked through the Captain's and everyone else's mind upon the destruction of the Dreams of Agony it was Sevanix. An adept of the Warp such as Sevanix could have further understood how it was that a day passed inside the ship yet 15 months passed in real-space, it was Sevanix. Yet, he understood nothing. Everything about what had happened spoke of intense cowardice. He came upon this fleet to strike at the fist of the Tyrant Corpse. Instead he was forced to sit and gain control of his mind as within hours of each other, his mind was forced to endure two warp-transitions.

At this point he could not justify his patience for much longer. When his name was called to the bridge, he eagerly sat up and made his way to it, expecting answers. He wore a suit of Terminator Armor, the scratched black paint with brass details and the various sigils to Chaos Undivided and of the Eye of Horus would cause one to easily make the mistake of assuming this was a sorcerer of the Black Legion. Certainly his staff and stylized Psychic Hood betrayed such. However the fact that he wore a blue and gold un-Black Legion helmet brought his true legion allegiance into doubt.

[BananaPhone]

When the call was sent out for a congregation to gather upon the bridge, the xenos of the ship did not have to travel far. Originally deposited on the bridge when the activity had started, Amara had been forced from its proximity under the captains orders and so, in the intermission, had deposited herself just outside in the antechamber. Relatively quiet and keeping to herself, the sunglasses-wearing alien stood before one of the windows that allowed her to peer outside into the star-studded void of space. Whatever thoughts that were congregating inside her head were as unknowable to those around her as the reason for her presence.

Amidst the human-derived occupants of the bridge, Amara couldn't help but stand out. Her long, lithe figure clung to the shadows like a wisp of smoke. Her left hand, a long and elegant appendage, was covered with a single black glove, while its wrist was tethered by a small piece of cloth to the belt around her waist. Meanwhile, her right hand endured no such apprehension and instead dainlty held a slim, smoking cylindrical confectionery between her index and middle finger. Periodically the alien would raise the butt of this object to her lips to inhale its scent.

When the doors to the bridge opened, Amara lazily glanced over her shoulder to peer inside at the hive of activity. Human machines were such an...interesting affair. The noise. The lighting. The odiferous residues of oil and grease that permeated the air and clogged ones nostrils were becoming almost comforting. The Eldars ears, far sharper than most, could detect the vicissitude of the ships engines that thrummed softly through the metal frame of the beast they rode in, each alteration indicating to her a change in the engineering crews activity. The cacophony of sensations could be distracting, but finding focus within the maelstrom was a never-ending lesson.

Wearing no armor and garbed in what appeared to be trim-fitting, well-pressed garments of xenos origins, Amara pulled herself away from the window and entered upon the bridge. Her teal hair fell around her shoulders in soft formations, the distinct color helming the alien that towered over all but the hulking marines of the traitor legions.

[Brox]

Argus arrives at the Command Bridge bulkhead doors, encased in his stylized light power armor. The armor is an eye-searing clash of bright electric pink and moody black angled tiger stripes, with gold piping. The solid black helm is customized with a crown of six short horns and a frill of zebra-striped hair forming a mohawk crest that drips languidly in a braided tail down to his mid back. An angry gold and onyx rod forms the handle of a neural whip coiled on his left hip, while an archaic khopesh sword buzzes audibly from his right.

He nods amiably in salutation to the rest assembled then casts his gaze archly to the bridge.

[Elurindel]

Slathissin makes his way as close as he can through the air ducts, before appearing near-silently within the bridge. His armour was done in various dark shades to become one with the night, rather than a silhouette against it. His skin, however was marble-white and his hair draped down his shoulders like a mantle.

"Ah, to be free of the Warp...but what is the cause for silent running? Larger ships nearby, perchance? A smaller prey ship for us?"

[Rising Chaos]

As you enter the bridge the first thing your eyes (or mind) fall upon is the image outside the view-port. Dominating your view is a huge orange-brown planetoid, roiling black-grey clouds shift across it's surface and blueish green bolts of lightning play havoc across the atmosphere. The hazy palate beneath this suggests it to be a gas giant. Even in the warp it's presence thunders before you and as you watch a massive bolt of lightning leaps up from the atmosphere to slam against the Voice, causing the void shields to squeal and spark in alarm.

Captain Umbolt sits in his command chair. He is a bull of a man, a squat, broad shouldered man who seems to be as fat as he is fit. His greased back brown-red hair seems frazzled and unkempt and his golden eyes are alert with anxiety. There are traces of sweat on his forehead and though his jet black captains uniform screams confidence and prestige with it's many fastenings, rank pins and heralds to the dark gods there is an unmistakable air of fear to him. As you enter the bridge he nods or gives a curt greeting to you before turning back to consult his devices and monitors.

His First Officer, Akardus Hellstrom moves from Umbolts side as you gather, bowing deeply to you. Akardus is a tall, lean human with a mane of white, flowing hair. His red eyes are lean and cat-like and a vox-unit of some kind is stitched his face, covering his nose and mouth. Like Umbolt he is dressed in his crisp black officer's uniform, resplendent with rank pins and rich embroidery hailing the power of the Eight. As he straightens he clasps his hands behind his back and his vox-unit hisses.
"Greeting, lords and masters. It honors us to have you alert and ready to serve on such short notice. I humbly apologize for the debacle we went through before but unfortunately the worst is not behind us. If you'll step this way".
He gestures with a sweep of his hand to the main tactical console situated in the center of the bridge, the large cylindrical device is bolted to the floor and hisses menacingly. As Akardus approaches it he presses the glowing runes and the image screen flashes before throwing a holographic map into the air. The map displays a small system, with a single sun and three planets: One inhabits the inner cauldron and two orbit the 'planetary biosphere' beyond it. Of these two planets you note that the indicator for the Voice is situated by the larger of the two. The Voice also seems to be situated in such a fashion that the gas giant blocks your ship from the other planet.

"From what our auspex and navigators tell us we are currently situated in the Nisor sector, a small zone located near Iniquity and Rephon. While it would be possible to proceed back into the warp and towards Iniquity the second planet in this biosphere, classified as Nisor Prime, currently has both an Imperial Defense station in orbit and an Imperial colony on the planet's surface. By the blessings of the eight the Defense station did not pick up our presence when we translated out of warp space. However Captain Umbolt worries that a second jump could alert the Imperials to our presence and bring unwanted attention to us.
We have currently deployed scanner vessels to chart out as much of Nisor Prime as possible, to find out for certain what odds are stacked against us"

[Emperor Ing]

The fear radiating from the captain was palpable. Certainly it was not improper to expect the lack of fear with them, Sevanix knows even that whole "and they shall know no fear" thing with the Astartes was just propaganda, however it seemed that among the crew of the bridge, it was only Umbolt who seemed certain he was going to be killed. At least the first mate (shame on you Umbolt, hiding behind your first mate) seemed to have his head on straight. Just from these impressions, Sevanix has the impression that Hellstrom should be captain of the vessel. While we wait for the scans to yield results, you want us to prepare to deploy against the Imperial station and sabotage their defenses before they can detect us or prepare a proper response. Including but not limited to summoning an Imperial Battlefleet. The Sorcerer says this with cool understanding. Occasionally glancing to the good Captain.

[ArcturusV]

Aaah. Situationals.

Talan cracked a smile as he was fed the Sit Rep by the crew, and tossed back his head, chuckling silently as his wings flexed, shaking his head slowly as he looked back down to the read out on the terminal.

"Ooh, what are you thinking?" Silias asked softly as he saw that something was on the boss's mind.

"The Savior 16 job," he said, and at that moment the eyes of both Helki and Silias seemed to shine bright with gleeful excitement. He nodded to his minions, already plotting out the old case and how it might be modified for them.

"Ever hear about the incident at Savior 16 about 30 years back?" he asked, knowing at least that Walker likely didn't know, if not the other heretics gathered around. "Old case that I worked the aftermath of."

"Had a system quite like this. Prospectors out in the system, mining asteroid clusters and what not. Defense station was Imperial Navy, ran security, search and rescue, traffic control, all that crap."

"Well one day this pirate comes up with a plan to take down the station for a big raid on the planet. Takes this industrial lighter, big cargo model like those mining crews used, loaded it's hold full of munitions. Like giant feth off Melta Torps and crap. Had a servitor pilot it in, sendin' out over the vox some message about severe damage and disabled crew, etc, etc, etc. Station goes and lets the thing dock for Medicae response and, more importantly, salvaging the cargo."

"... it lands on board, torps detonate. BOOM! Just like that. Big station like that, all the armor's on the outside, an explosion inside it like that? Nearly gutted the damned thing."

Talan nodded as he finished the tale, "We could modify it, same plan, but in the wake of the explosion, just hammer in with the ship and board the station. Mop up the left over Navy Dogs... we take our time clearin' it and the planet of anythin' valuable, and jam out before anyone even knows what hit 'em."

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai watched the planet flare as he listened to the report, lacking the tactical mind he wasn't really sure why he had been called here. I guess I am going to be the eyes of the operation, as usual. he thinks to himself.

As Talan outlines his plan Mordechai feels himself nodding along, "Clever plan, we can't jump as it's too easy to track." thinking for a moment he turns to Akardus. "Is there any way we can change our Ident Codes? I might be able to send a distress Astropathic message, though it has been quite some time since I last tried."

[Brox]

Gesturing to the terminator-armored Astartes

"I agree with your preliminary estimation."

Rotating slightly, Argus extends his right hand towards the First Officer lazily,

"Tell us Lieutenant, why were we drawn from the Warp so far afield? I can scarcely believe our translation was so poorly plotted..."

Argus shifts his weight from right to left languidly, his left hand absently caressing the handle of his whip before curling into a fist to rest on his hip.

"And while you're fielding that query, perhaps you can tell us what resources are to be found in this system. Beyond simply completing our journey, what is to be gained?"

[BananaPhone]

Amara listened quietly to the mon'keighs chatter, her eyes drawn towards the available windows. She liked listening to them talk, the humans. Their voices, so choppy and halting...remiss of the grace in which she had developed. Hearing the harsh tongue brought out the curious within her.

"Effort on our behalf would not be necessary, and could sabotage our services to silence the station," she chimed in once the others had finished speaking. Even though Amara spoke the human language, her words seemed woven together and lined with the melody of her natural voice.

"Were we able to inject ourselves aboard the mon'keighs station we would be...excuse me, aboard the Imperials station, time would be against us as we would have to fight our way to the bridge to halt any attempt to alert the broader Imperial navy of our presence. "

Amara brought the confectionery in her right hand up close to her angular face - the smoke was jolted out of its lazy swirl as the eldar inhaled its particles. At her waist, her left-handed fingers twitched slightly inside their glove.

"The primitive nature of the engines affixed to our vessels could be our hidden dagger. We could tamper with them, and stuff several members of the lower orders upon the ship to provide any meddlesome Imperial scanners with life-forms to confirm their story. Then, when aboard, the engines are detonated to flood the station with virulent radiation - slaying all aboard in a matter of seconds. The electronics too would suffer damage to buffer against the tenacity of any survivors. We could then board, repair the deterioration to their computer systems and retrieve further information upon the local Imperial presence. The deleterious fun we could have wearing the mon'keighs skin makes one...giddy with excitement."

[Emperor Ing]

The terminator turns, his gaze affixed to the alien whom, by all rights, should have the hand of Slaanesh itself reaching through a warp-portal to snatch at any moment. Even though that had not happened yet, it was clear that Sevanix was not pleased. That station is filled with humans whose only crime was to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I will not endorse any plans that put the innocent at-risk when we know there could be a better way. He looks away. That, and the damage you propose to this ship's engines would cripple us.

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai stares at the Alien, not that anyone could see his eyes behind his bandana, "Are, you, INSANE?". He turns around on the spot his arms outstretched almost asking for everyone else support, "You think we should blow up our own ship to destroy an Imperial Listening Post. I always Knew Xeno were crazy, but I didn't think they were that Insane!"

[Rising Chaos]

As Sevanix speaks Akardus nods, pressing a button on the console the holo-projector zooms in on Nisor Prime, highlighting both the orbital station and the Imperial colony.
"Unfortunately my lord, the plan may be more complicated than a simple station boarding. From what our navigator tells us he felt a vague psychic presence from the Imperial colony. At the moment both Captain Umbolt and myself believe this indicated the presence of an astropathic choir on planet, if this is the case it would also be prudent to assume that the orbital station and the colony have some form of vox-comminucation with each other. We'll confirm when our scouts return we may be looking at a situation requiring either a simultaneous striking of the targets or two strikes in rapid response".

As Argus questions the First Officer Akardus turns smoothly to address him.
"Apologies my lord, at this moment we are unsure of what caused such a drastic time-space malfunction during our transit. There are multiple factors to consider: The destruction of the Dreams of Agony could have soured the warp with the destruction of so many crew as well as it's warp drive. It's also possible that the Imperial Navy skewed the veil and forced us off course.
Aside from the natural gasses contained within the gas giant before us, the planet closest to the systems sun appears to be completely made of a variety of liquid metals. Further inspection of both planets could entail how we could best harvest their resources, but will have to wait until we have silenced the Imperial presence in the system"

[Brox]

@Sevanix:
"While I agree with the later, the former is base sentimentality and detrimental to our needs. I never knew the Astartes could be so....easily moved..."

It should be clear that Argus intended to say something other than "easily moved" but changed his mind at the last moment.

@all:

"We should jam their long range vox capabilities from here while infiltrating the sub-station to silence the potential presence of astropathic communication. If any here know of a method to silence a Warp-sending they should speak up now and be recognized. And for the record...(@Amara) destroying the sub-station outright would be akin to painting a giant target on ourselves for all Imperial scum in the sector. The psychic resonance from so many dying immediately (while delicious...mmmm...) would be deleterious to our cause.

@First Officer Arkadus

"Perhaps you could deploy a brace of probes to the planet nearest the sun...the metals on that planet are useful. Keep us in near orbit to the gas giant...it may mask our presence. And provide us with a meeting room to work out details to pull us out of this catastrophe Lieutenant. We need to be kept abreast (caressing my chestpiece) of any findings you may have as well."

[BananaPhone]

"That station is filled with humans whose only crime was to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I will not endorse any plans that put the innocent at-risk when we know there could be a better way."

Amara's alien features were difficult to decipher, but she seemed to look at the terminator-clad Thousand Son as if he had asked whether two plus two equaled four.

"You mean...life's not fair?"

Then the other objections arrived. The eldar rose a slender, black eyebrow, as her face remained impassive.

"Let us play a game of Discern Your Meaning..." she said, her tone slow and sarcastic, as if she were speaking to children.

"I presented two phases of boarding. Not one, but two," she said, holding up two long fingers on her right hand for emphasis. "The first was the initial deception. The second featured our arrival. So this would imply that we not use the ship upon which our current survival rests and instead deploy something more disposable, yes? One such craft could possibly be found in the hanger bay, where they typically see use to transport soldiers and materials. The second could be another such vehicle, as to allow the Voice of Pain to remain at a safe distance to be called upon if necessary."

The alien then issued a dismissive wave, "But this new revelation requires an alteration, the astropath will require silencing to buffer against its meddling. Hmmm...." she stroked her slender jaw, eyes peering about as she thought, "One could adhere to the prior plan...assuming the astropath is not in constant communication with someone aboard the station - the silence of which would alert it to danger...then we could quietly seize the station, prang its energy reactors and the devices that retain it in orbit to send it crashing down to the human city upon the planet surface. I think its detonation would irradiate the municipal area, ensuring total silence, just to be sure."

Abruptly, a mask of self-awareness flashed across Amara's face as if she'd just realised a flaw in her reasoning. "Oh, no that could be crazy..." she trailed off, stroking her chin again. "The time it would take for the station to plummet to the planets surface could be employed by the astropath to warn the greater Imperial body of our presence. Heh, yes...how troublesome, it must be eliminated swiftly. Yes...a two-pronged approach might, unfortunately, be a necessity."

[Brox]

I'll feel for psychic resonances from the rest of the group...(Psyinscience 33)

[roll0]

lol oh well...

[Emperor Ing]

"While I agree with the later, the former is base sentimentality and detrimental to our needs. I never knew the Astartes could be so....easily moved..."
Those are humans, sir. Sevanix turns to face the Slaaneshi, pointing to the station. In each man holds the potential for greatness, to create and build in the glory of our Gods. They require only freedom, from the shackles of the Corpse Tyrant or from the shackles of those who would deny glory to the Gods in the name of the Gods.

He looks over at the Eldar. He didn't want to outright dismiss her for being born in the wrong species so Sevanix thought to at least offer her a modicum of respect, but from what he has seen thus far he's not entirely sure if she could earn it. Quite frankly he's not entirely sure if her respect for him is even worth the trouble. Amidst your rambling tirade, you eventually made a fair point about a two-pronged approach. I would support such an endeavor if only to ensure total silence and our presence remain masked. However the destruction of the station itself serves no practical purpose, and as said before, its absence may be missed.

Nevertheless, the neutralization of any and all Astropaths, excluding you of course- He nods to Mordechai -should be our top priority.

[BananaPhone]

"Thank you, human." Amara smiled, seemingly pleased that her input was appreciated by the hulking Thousand Sons sorcerer.

"Your praise is gratifying, as such comraderie will be needed. Neither you or I blend particularly well into Imperial society, so I dare to predict that any mission to the planet surface will require our absence."

[ArcturusV]

... Astropaths now, eh?

"... you know I heard once that the death scream of an Astropathic Choir can drown out all other messages." It was just an odd rumor he had heard somewhere, about some place else in the Galaxy where someone had done that for some reason. Talan didn't really remember, or think much of it at the time. Seemed like it was too much of a scorched earth policy. He didn't favor scorched earth policies in general.

"Anyway," he turned to Mordecai, "Any truth in that? Say even if they get some little missive out, we go and pop all their heads, is the scream gonna drown out the message? Seems like if it would, just a simple mission for us, go in, smash some blind men to pieces, get out, nice and quick, probably won't even know what we're up to until we're already coasting on out of there."

[Rising Chaos]

Mordechai
You wrack your brain trying to remember if what Talan says is true. You've heard rumors of astropathic torture souring and bleating out the warp, but as far as you can remember you've never seen such a thing or heard such from a first hand source. Imperial code indents is another thing, by replacing your ship identity codes with one's taken or remembered from another Imperial ship and mixed with a healthy dose of scrapcode you could most likely fool anyone not looking out a port window.

Sevanix
You expand your mind, searching for traces of psychic power. As you do you realize that as well as blocking auspex and vox-signals the massive electromagnetic discharge's from the gas giant are also interfering with your mind's telepathic abilities. However you can still sense something, a faint, harmonious buzzing distantly from the planet's surface. You can't tell where it is, but it feels like a faint whisper in the back of your skull.

Akardus listens to Argus's proposition with no change in emotion.
"A wise plan sir. Once we begin our plans to transport you down to the surface I'll see about setting up probes to inspect the inner cauldron. With any luck it may distract the Imperial forces and allow you easier access".

He soaks in the idea's that Amara, Sevanix and Talan bounce back and forth.
"My lords, if it pleases you I have prepared the amphitheater for you all. It is past the bridge, the second door to your right. You are free to compile and prepare your compact from there, the room also contains a vox-link to the bridge if you have any other questions. By the time you have set up our preliminary probes should have returned and I will update you on the situation".
He presses the control stud, powering down the holoprojector before bowing deeply towards the PC's.

If anyone enters the amphitheater they see a large rectangular room painted with what looks like dried human blood. Spiked chains hang from the ceiling and the occasional dark iron barb sprouts from the walls. In the center of the room is a holoprojector, smaller than the one in the bridge. Unlike that device this one contains multiple flat copper tables jutting from the device. Their surfaces have piles of parchment, ink and quill.
(The holoprojector contains the same information the bridge had. So you can inspect the system based on the current information the command crew has)

[Brox]

As the last breath passes from Arkadus' lips Argus spins on him...

@Arkadus

"You sycophantic WRETCH! Do not think you can free yourself from servitude to your Captain by currying favor with us! Luck will have no part in OUR plan! Just be sure that shuttle is placed in our discretion and the probes are released. You may have thought that closet you've prepared is adequate, but I see no refreshment to ease our hunger, nor drink to slake our thirst. Get to it and see that you perform better!

With each sentence Argus seems to get angrier and seems to noticeably grow. He leans in threateningly at Arkadus taking a half-step towards the First Officer. Almost unbidden, the handle of his whip rises off its hitch to his hand (but does not otherwise uncoil).(Precision TK [roll0] god I hope I make this roll...)

At his last word Argus spins away from Arkadus, gently waves the rest of the group into the meeting room, stalks in and takes a seat at one of the tables.

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara

Having quietened since her last foray into near-giggling anticipation, Amara lingered upon the periphery of the group and listened to their ideas for the coming violence.

Argus' little outburst was...unexpected. Not that she had known the mon'keigh for long, but his prior eloquence had hinted at a patient man. Now it would seem to be composure with a jagged lining.

Eyes alert, the eldar sauntered into the amphitheatre. Once inside, her alien features remained undecipherable at the exposure to the grisly decorum, but inside she was curious. Must everything be so dramatic Amara wondered inside her own head.

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai followed the others into the offered room, and shuddered he always wondered why people began abasing themselves once free of the Imperium's Lies. "I suppose if we tortured the Astropaths we could create a disturbance in the warp. Though I'd rather we didn't attempt that." thinking for a moment he ponders about if he could change the ships Ident Codes.

"I could possibly disguise a small vessels Ident Code, I'm not sure about the Voice. I would need an Imperial Code though, if anyone knows one?"

[Emperor Ing]

There is no need to shout down the good Lieutenant, Brother. He defends Arkadus. I am certain he is doing the best he can considering the circumstances.

He was, however, less impressed with the "ampitheater" himself. In response to the...paint job, Sevanix can taste the sweet metallic taste of blood on his lips. Perhaps it was a mercy he was wearing his helmet, blocking out the delectible scent. For the moment he focused his mind on trying to recall imperial codes. He didn't know any in particular, but using his keen mind and knowledge of mathematics he thought he could write his own code that may or may not follow the coding conventions one would expect from an Imperial vessel. The best he could do is make up a code, but then there's the possibility of accidentally writing a code for a known destroyed vessel, a known high-priority vessel such as an Emperor class Battleship or a Space Marine Battle Barge, or writing a code for a known Chaos ship. Still, it should work for long enough.

Logic check target 43
[roll0]

[Elurindel]

Slathissin chuckles as he listens to the chatter. "What nonsense babble is this of 'innocence'? A rather amusing concept...As for the code of an Imperial ship, we could likely find one aboard that station. If this ship possesses boarding torpedoes or landing craft, we could fire one at the station with the engines cut, and sneak aboard once we reach a collision, though such a course would require a very skilled gunner and pilot, and plenty of time and patience." the former Night Lord suggests.
"After that, it is merely a matter of misdirection. If we could seize the station's bridge, then we could supplant its command staff with people of our own."

[Emperor Ing]

I...have difficulty imagining even one of your skill could maintain some level of stealth after crashing into the station with a boarding torpedo. He replies to the Marine.

Perhaps we could make use of any shuttles this ship may have. Dock on the station, lure Customs into a trap, then make our way to the command bridge without alerting whatever meager security measures they may take. The longer we can manage the Station and the Colony not talking about us, the easier it will be to silence them forever.

By the way, if you would like to discuss the concept of innocence, I would be happy to enlighten you.

[Brox]

There is no need to shout down the good Lieutenant, Brother. He defends Arkadus. I am certain he is doing the best he can considering the circumstances.


"I see your "sentimentality" is boundless, so by way of an explanation I'll offer this lesson. In the game of Domination there are two keys. The first is the "Kiss". It is the mother's caress, the embrace of a lover, the salute of a subordinate and the praise of a superior. It raises the spirit and lightens the mood.

The second is the Lash. It is the sharp rebuke, the slash of a knife, the sword that pierces the heart.

Each key unlocks a layer of the heart to the discerning eye. Too much of the Kiss and subordinate considers him or herself a co-equal in power. Eventually the subordinate will have designs of ambition and you will find your own power diminished. Especially here.

Too much of the Lash and your subordinate will grow to hate you and plot your demise.

But if you dole out both, in the right mixture, then your pawn will strive ever to make you happy, and you will find yourself with a willing and pliable servant.

The successful Dominator will ever be watchful for cues that tip the hand of the subordinate to what motivates. When you Lash, you must offer the means of succor that ameliorates the pain. When you Kiss, you must deal the small hurt to cause your pawn to come back and strive to be more attentive.

Be watchful for these lessons Legionnaire, they play out openly every day...

Argus turns from the Legionnaire and takes a seat, kicking his feet up on the edge of the holo-table. He will not remove his helmet, but when he takes off his gloves, you see his hands are slim and delicate, with long painted nails. The skin is preternaturally smooth, a pale shade of mauve, and seems to blur occasionally. He draws out a dataslate and picks at it indifferently, occasionally looking around the room at the rest of the assembled.

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai rolled his blind eyes at the arguments rocking back and forth, though none could see his body language was quite obvious. "Using a shuttle would be the smartest move, but as far as I am aware, we would still need a valid Ident code else they will just shoot the shuttle down."

[Elurindel]

Slathissin bristles, having taken umbrage with the insult leveled at him. "I am VIII Legion! You question my ability to become one with the dark that raised me?" he turns his jet-black eyes on Mordechai. "We would not be making an legitimate entry. We would fire off from the ship we are in, power down and wait for momentum to carry our un-powered shuttle into the station's hull. Before it impacts, we jump out and clamber on the hull until we find a valid entry point. Failing that, we cut one out."

[Emperor Ing]

I have no reason to doubt your ability. Sevanix replies, as calm as ever to the Night Lord, even if his arrogance chafes his psyche. I simply question your method of insertion. A boarding torpedo would attract far more attention than either of us would like. Certainly more than enough to raise alarm.

Indeed I suspect your talents will prove invaluable very quickly.


Be watchful for these lessons Legionnaire, they play out openly every day...
Such is the reason for my sentimentality. Force is not virtue.

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara

"These codes you speak of - I stray from certainty to guess that they are a form of Imperial identification transmissions, yes?" the Eldar spoke to Mordachei. Human technology and astro-procedures were areas in which she lacked a great deal of knowledge.

"Could a forgery be created in their absence? Or are there cases in which Indent codes are not an immediate priority, say for derelict shuttles?"

[Brox]

Such is the reason for my sentimentality. Force is not virtue.

"Ah but force is a means to power, and power is the goal of all here. It's purpose may be ascendancy, rulership, or simply a means unto itself. Honestly, the "why" matters little when the "how" is much more exhilarating and visceral. Learn this now lest you discover later...you are either a tool, to the one who wields the tool. Which are you Astartes? Consider it a rhetorical execise"

to the rest:

"I find myself favoring the xenos idea..."

after a pause, Argus tilts his head slightly to the left and says:

"You all realize...I have no idea who you are at all, nor why you are here? My manners have left me...You may call me Argus Voct, Sensate Disciple of the Dark Prince, and Confessor Second Class of the Voice of Pain. I am a psyker, and Seeker of Experience; and I am pleased to make your acquaintance"

[Emperor Ing]

Of course! The Terminator-Sorcerer replies, slightly embarassed by his own lack of etiquette. I am Sevanix, Sorcerer of the Thousand Sons. Not the Black Legion. He looks down at his Black Legion terminator armor. He really should make finding some gold and blue paint, as well as some tools to bolt on icons to Tzeentch onto the armor and remove those Chaos Undivided stars, an objective on this mission. Certainly it would be awkward if he ever ran into any actual Black Legion members. By the will of Tzeentch I seek liberation for all who call men, not the Gods, their Master.

[Elurindel]

Slathissin shakes his head. These people were testing his patience.
"We would cut engines and all power systems once we were en route to the station. We would appear on their sensors as little more than a piece of space debris. Before they realise what's happening we'll be aboard. We are, after all, Space Marines. We would be unworthy of the name if we were not capable of such an insertion." he explains. "As for introductions, I am Slathissin, from the Nostramo and of the Night Lords Legion, such as it was."

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara

"My pseudonym is Amara. That is all the designation I require, for now."

[ArcturusV]

Talan Micon and his Boyz

No one had really addressed him, or even considered his ideas for the most part. No one was paying attention to him as they chattered on, going about plans that were becoming overly complex and quite silly to be honest. Crashing a ship on board the station in order to take over the bridge so that they could get Ident Codes to sneak a shuttle onto the station? That seemed to be where the line of thinking was going. Talan's wings stretched out in a slight gesture of annoyance. His ego was bruised by the behavior, and he could feel Helki and Silias worming up to him, already preparing to whisper their encouragement and praises to him, to help soothe his wounds as they tended to do, both physical and spiritual. He cut them off however with a short gesture.

All in all, the man and his "boyz" were an odd looking crew. Five "men", depending on how you counted "men". Talan himself, decked out in black powered armor, similar to the Sorcerous Fatboy, but lacking the icons of devotion and the copious amount of Chaos Spoors. His armor sprouted wings from his back, armored pinions spread behind him. "Lord Talan Micon... as the bulky one said, don't let the color fool ya. I ain't with that armless loser and his boys. Got my own empire I'm carvin' out with a bit more success than he's ever had."

Where others had powerful weapons, or wicked blades, he was decked out in "cruder" weapons, a wicked, belt fed heavy stubber for him which he carried in his hands with practiced ease. At his belt a true work of art, a Las Pistol fit for a noble, and on the opposite hip, Talan's Chainsword, similarly well crafted by what could only have been a Master Heretek. Everything this man wore just screamed out that it was the best someone could find, from his well appointed black armor, customized for what seemed to be living wings, to the simple, brutal heavy stubber which had been adorned with the finest scroll work and forged in methods that proved it's craftsmanship as both weapon and art.

He nodded over to his Boyz, "Duke Talbot," he introduced what looked like a feral, mutated man, but one who wore flak armor of an Arbiter, and seemed to have a standard issue shock maul. He seemed a broken beast, keeping at Talan's heels like a loyal guard dog.

"Helki," he gestured to the female of the group, along with her unsettling, glowing eyes and the chill air coming off of her. She barely nodded at the group when she was introduced, closely holding her Autogun, one of a pair.

"Silias," he gestured to the other member of the pair, also decked out in the armor of an Arbiter, and with an Autogun that seemed to be an exact match of Helki's, customized work to be sure.

"... and Walker," he gestured to the large, portly Xenos with the thick skin, wearing cast off and heavily scavenged and 'tinkered' with Flak Armor.

All told, they looked like they belonged together, each of them was familiar with one another's company, keeping an eye out for Talan. Not that such meagerly equipped and armed forces would seem to stand a chance against something like a Renegade Psyker, but there was little chance that they would try.

"And if I may suggest, usually the simple solution works the best. We need Ident codes? Well... take 'em." He smiled, not that anyone could see it under the helmet, "Someone is going to have to go planetside to deal with the Astropaths. Shouldn't be too much of a bother for them to swing by the spaceport, find some lighter and steal their codes. Bonus if it's a lighter that is expected to take supplies to the station too. Things don't need to be a big hoopla... you keep **** simple, it gets done. That's what a good, successful pirate and criminal does. Save the complex and the brutish for when things start to go to ****..."

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai liked this Talan guy, he had a tactical mind while Mordechai didn't. But he knew what was a good idea and just plain crazy, he wanted to avoid a fight. He moved over towards Talan and his crew and extended a hand, "Mordechai, former Astropath of the Imperium, though that bag of bones on a rusty chair didn't appeal to me. I'm liking the sound of getting Ident Codes from a ship on the surface would be easy enough. Though if we do that we might as well just take the ship, I suggested the Ident's to get us onto the planet or station undetected." he shrugged "If we don't have any codes I could try and fake them, but seems like a shot in the dark really."

If they were going to split into taking the Station and the planet at the same time, Mordechai knew where he wanted to be. Behind Talan and his men.

[Elurindel]

"Your suggestion has some merit." Slathissin admitted to Talan. "However, it rests on attempting to find a single shuttle we know belongs to the space station on that world down there when we are on silent running, and then getting down to that world and stealing it, hoping the shuttle has enough room for us, and getting the correct clearance procedures from the shuttle's pilot. I am not saying my plan is more sound, just that they both carry their own set of risks."

[ArcturusV]

Talan shook his head slowly, "Nah, wasn't thinking of stealing the shuttle itself. Thing is? You steal information, no one knows until after you already used it. Not like they look in their cogitators and suddenly see something missing. You steal a shuttle? Anyone with two licks of brains knows it's missing, people make reports, might not get off the planet before they know what's what."

"I was thinkin' more like this," he said as he started to pace, an old habit from his arbiter briefings, "Someone, including one of you mind talking boys, goes planet side. Hitting a station with a blindly fired shuttle, crashing aboard and trying to sneak in? That was kinda out there. Making a quiet landing when you have an entire planet to work with? Hell pirates and smugglers do it all the time. We go hit up the spaceport, don't need one particular shuttle, just something with legit codes. Mind Talking boy sends you all a message with his voodoo... then you take off from here with your codes. I mean if it's a supply shuttle, hey, bonus. But long as it's one known to work in system? Should be fine."

"Then the Mind Talker and his buddies go off to cave in some Astropath skulls, nice and simple."

[Elurindel]

The Night Lord stroked his chin. "Perhaps. The only issue I see is that it will be easier to detect a shuttle making planetfall. Unless you're pplaning to jump out after you've burned through the atmosphere with grav-chutes and the like."

[Brox]

>Clap Clap Clap<

"I do so like a bit of intrigue! Talan I believe I like your idea best of all! Of course, we'll need a pilot to fly the lighter. Could we lure out a recovery lighter out away from the port? Maybe with a distress call? Perhaps take a lighter from our docks, take it out and shut down all but life support. Make a distress call, then take a free ride? Once there our best assassins hunt the astropath, while the rest head to the orbital substation"

Perhaps scouring the vox transmissions from our recent foray with the Dreams of Agony will reveal a small enough Imperial craft that we could use their codes as our own...

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara


"Do as you will to retrieve whatever means necessary to board the station and neutralise its threat of alerting the greater Imperial fleet to our presence." Amara chimed in, her melodic voice a refreshment from the guttural sound of marines and humans.

"But, though my understanding of human procedure is shamefully thin, would not landing on the planet require passing by the very station that we seek to cripple? A small shuttle emerging on its own from space and trying to land on the planet would surely be scanned for identification at most, and be a target for suspicion at best?"

What she wouldn't give to have access to Webway technology right now...

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai nods as he listens, "Makes sense, can't report what you don't know is missing. I'd rather go ground side than storming a Station, can't say my skills lie in tactics and killing." taking back his hand hoping no-one noticed that it had been ignored Mordechai shrugs and stays stood near Talan.

[ArcturusV]

Talan shrugged at Amara, "We're a lazy lot, particularly when it comes to things like that. A system with a thriving colony, and a station probably has a lot of orbital traffic. Lighters are small enough that it'd probably take a directed Augur scan to spot it in the void, which they have no reason to make. Odds are there's a lot of traffic in the system as is, people going about prospecting moons and asteroid clusters, traffic to and from the defense station, other craft that may be in orbit like Charterist Captains and Free Traders. If this system is important enough to warrant a full defense station... it's got enough traffic they ain't gonna mess about with checking out every little shuttle going to and fro. Oh, big feth off warship or potential raider, yeah..."

He smiled, unseen again and let out a little snort of a laugh, "Trust in laziness and boredom, it's more inevitable than death, bet you right now there's some guy sitting at the Augur Array, bored out of his mind, not paying attention, probably chattering away with a fellow ensign or planning out his next leave, barely paying attention to his routine job that has been exactly the same for countless cycles."

[Rising Chaos]

Sevanix
Searching through your memories you attempt to determine the length and average makeup of an Imperial ident signal. After a minute or two of thinking you are able to piece together a fairly impressive looking twenty-five digit sequence that looks similar to ident codes you've seen in the past. You're fairly certain that the sequence will appear Imperial in nature, but you're not too sure about what class and/or make the ship would be considered.

As you sit around the chamber talking the vox crackles and Akardus's voice comes through the other end.
"My lords, the first batch of probes have transmitted information back to us. It appears that the planet's colony is slightly larger than standard Imperial size, the scans have reported multiple high profile buildings that we believe would be a barracks, armoury, spaceport, and astopathica building. We're adding the maps and picts to your holoprojector now. We have also detected what looks to be an administratum building and ecclisiarchy temple. The colony is protected by a standard 30ft ferrocrete wall and has mounted hydra batteries every dozen meters or so.
We've also detected multiple pockets of human settlements across the planet's surface, mostly located near water sources, though there is one large gathering in the northern hemisphere with no discernable water source. Picts come in blurry but these settlements seem to be using a much lower standard of technology.
Finally according to our auspex in approximatly an hour the atmosphere of this gas giant will undergo a massive series of electromagnetic storms. This will generate a significant energy release that should mask your presence nicely should you decide to launch your assault then. We currently have a six desecrated Aquilla Landers ready for your use, or should you wish a more stealthy approach we have three Arvus Lighters that are in fairly good condition, though the aquilla's and signs of Corpse God worship have been removed.
I'll leave you to assign your compacts and mission leaders, please vox me if you require anything further."

As he finishes speaking a servitor wheels into the room carrying a large tray of lightly scented sweet tea, small decanters of recaf and a plate of biscuits and preserved meats. Apparently Argus's demands were heeded.

[Emperor Ing]

Attempting to land during such a storm would be a dangerous, but entirely probable approach. In any event, I have imperial Ident Codes we could use. There is no guarantee that what I have thought up will match our vessel designation, but it should function for long enough for us to enter without arousing suspicion. Hopefully, by "desecrated" the Landers aren't covered in such icons to the True Gods that any Imperial citizen with even the slightest modicum of faith in the Corpse Tyrant would immediately recognize it as "heretical." Sevanix honestly would not mind at all if it were a pristine Aquila lander fit for an Ecclesiarchial Arch-Cardinal.

Then there was the conondrum of the aquafers. Obvious strategic vulnerabilities. Were Sevanix a Nurglite he might contaminate the water, or were he Slanneshi he might fill it with hallucinogens, yet he in good faith cannot justify seizing control of it without being prepared to cut off its supply.

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara


"Are you able to test your codes to ascertain what type of vessel they would correspond to?" the Eldar asked.

"Because from the reconnaissance we have just been given, any attempt at secretive penetration must remain that way: I doubt one shuttle would be able to rescind itself back into orbit with those defensive measures arrayed against it."

[Emperor Ing]

Thank you, sir. Sevanix says to the servitor. Although he knows it's pointless to offer servitors courtesy, it is a habit he developed from his efforts to improve his own etiquette. He gingerly lifts a plate of meat on hands of invisible force up to him as he removed his gold and blue helmet. Underneath were the rather soft features of a surprisingly ordinary looking man, violet eyes shone with benevolence (and some sorcerous power.) The only thing that really seemed to mark him as different is the rather pronounced canines jutting from his upper jaw that evoke the image of the vampyr of pre-Terran myth.

Insertion is our primary concern. Our extraction will depend on our success groundside, certainly. It would not hurt to set up a contigency by readying to sabotage the Hydra batteries on-command should our plans fail. Nontheless, I am curious as well regarding how my code might be received. He opens a vox channel to the bridge. Hello Officer Akardus. I was wondering if I could test an Imperial Ident Code I have against the databanks of the Voice of Pain, if such a function is present on the ship. When Akardus confirms this is possible, Sevanix relays his code to the officer.


I'm having flashbacks to a previous game where Sevanix did the exact same thing and rolled a 100

Mind over Matter test target 91 to do as described, fettered.
[roll0]

[Brox]

Argus will fill a plate with biscuits and meat, and a glass with tea, and another cup of recaf, but I'll leave it alone.

"I think we can mobilize the large contingent to the north to rise up and seize encampments that hold the water. This can serve as a distraction for us to get inside. Maybe draw out some of the Imperial forces from the spaceport. From there we slip into the 'port, restock at the armoury and seize the Astropaths. There will be no call for reinforcements to oppose a simple uprising..."

[ArcturusV]

Talan waved off the servitor, not hungry at the moment, though Walker and Duke Talbot both grabbed up a little morsel to wolf down, in the case of Talbot, or slowly peck and chew at in the case of Walker.

"Two things," Talan chimed in, "One, you're presuming that these Feral Humans will be receptive to your leadership and willing to go to war on no more than a say so on your part, which I kinda doubt, you don't strike me as some great leader that Feral Men flock to on sight. I don't think we got time for anything longer than that, we got to get this mission done before some random ship comes by for Resupply and spots a strange vessel on the way in. Two, even if you staged an uprising what would that accomplish? Yeah it might draw some PDF troopers away from the main city, if they even care which they might not, but it also puts them on Alert because something unusual is happening. Rather than have an enemy napping we have an enemy suspicious and on guard."

"Rather keep this as quiet as possible until it's too damned late for anyone to do anything about it."

He then turned to the blinded Psyker, "... also I'll need a moment of your time later for a personal matter, make sure you have a block of it cleared out before we leave for this little raid."

[Brox]

Talan waved off the servitor, not hungry at the moment, though Walker and Duke Talbot both grabbed up a little morsel to wolf down, in the case of Talbot, or slowly peck and chew at in the case of Walker.

"Two things," Talan chimed in, "One, you're presuming that these Feral Humans will be receptive to your leadership and willing to go to war on no more than a say so on your part, which I kinda doubt, you don't strike me as some great leader that Feral Men flock to on sight. I don't think we got time for anything longer than that, we got to get this mission done before some random ship comes by for Resupply and spots a strange vessel on the way in. Two, even if you staged an uprising what would that accomplish? Yeah it might draw some PDF troopers away from the main city, if they even care which they might not, but it also puts them on Alert because something unusual is happening. Rather than have an enemy napping we have an enemy suspicious and on guard."

"Rather keep this as quiet as possible until it's too damned late for anyone to do anything about it."

He then turned to the blinded Psyker, "... also I'll need a moment of your time later for a personal matter, make sure you have a block of it cleared out before we leave for this little raid."

Hahaha, my dear boy...I wasn't volunteering, I was providing additional suggestions. Puerile insults aside... I would put forth the idea that YOU recruit them.

[Emperor Ing]

One cannot guarantee your uprising will not attract too much attention. He gives his own reply to Argus. Nevertheless, such a distraction may be worth keeping in mind if you cannot infiltrate through other means. I trust you enough to use your best judgment.

I put forward that we will need to make an attack on the Administratum centers in a coordinated attack. We should seek to remain in communication and strike at once for this means. Regretfully, my own astrotelepathy abilities are wanting, so we should seek other means, unless Mordechai can read my mind with his astrotelepathy so as to permit a reply to his broadcast.

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai felt like he may have been making himself a little too much the centre of attention. He shrugged, "I'm not sure what good I could be, but sure we can talk before we set off."

Looking to Sevanix, "Reading minds wasn't something I ever really managed, reading the strands of my own fate I can do. Receive and decode an Astrpathic message I can do, send my own encoded message I can do. Since I had these damned sigils branded into my skin my abilities have been stifled."

[Emperor Ing]

Sevanix shakes his head in sympathy. What the Corpse Tyrant's slaves do to those whose only crime was to be born with extraordinary and wondrous talent is repulsive. Very well, we should seek to obtain a vox-caster for both our groups before we leave.

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai smiles, remembering the image which burnt the sight from his eyes. "The corpse is no tyrant, it is just corroding bones in tarnished armour, placed precariously atop a once golden throne which has fallen into disrepair. The tyrants are the ones the pretend he is a god, if he was, why would he need that rotting body?"

[Emperor Ing]

Sevanix nods A fair point, however he was not always a rotting corpse. One should direct the question of the dear Emperor's tyranny to the prinarch Lorgar, whose homeworld was obliterated because of a difference of opinion between the two, whether or not the still-living Emperor was a tyrant. Indeed, those who commit atrocities in the name of the Corpse Tyrant are tyrants themselves, but I cannot, in good faith, disregard the crimes of the Emperor as well.

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai laughed, "I am far from old enough to remember the Emperor when he was alive. I only saw him once, and he robbed me of my sight, but there is no joy in destroying a ruined and rotting corpse. So, I do not blame him, I just seek to show others the true image of the Emperor as his rotting body sits upon its throne of lies."

[Emperor Ing]

I confess I am not blessed with such age either, though I have been tutored by many sorcerers with experiences that date back to the Burning of Prospero, where the still-living Emperor sent the Space Wolves, the Sisters of Silence, and the Legio Custodes to exterminate my Legion. Sevanix continues, a slight smile appearing on his features. I am afraid we are going to have to agree to disagree on this. I am curious, however, if you are willing to stand with me against tyranny, whether it be the servants of the Corpse Emperor, or however you wish to call him, or...others.

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara

Amara watched the conversation between the blind one and the Chaos-tainted sorcerer with almost coerced interest. All this talk of a tyrant and corpses sitting upon chairs, and other such silly flights of fantasy. It was almost embarrassing to listen to - the very notion that a species such as this had clamored its way to dominance over the galaxy was a notion that filled with Eldar with shame as to how far her people had fallen.

In all her many centuries of life, she never imagined she would be in this position. Desperate times indeed.

Turning to the others that weren't talking, "We launch within one of the clean shuttles, assimilate ourselves into local traffic, land upon the planet, find a way to quietly silence the astropath, leave the planet for the space station, cripple it from within, then return to our ship and depart?"

[ArcturusV]

"Probably a plunder and looting step in there that you forgot," Talan pointed out, but in general the Eldar seemed to have the grasp of it. He felt his wings flexing again as he was quite eager to get out of the meagerly appointed, cramped ship, get to some place where he could really stretch out.

"After all, why just leave when we can leave with prizes?" he shrugged and turned to his Boyz, giving them a cold once over inspection. Most everything seemed in order, "... I believe I'm good to go, if anyone else is. Clearly I cannot be part of the urban assault team. My... mutation would give us away. As would her status as Xenos," he cocked his head over towards Amara. "Probably will take a shuttle dirt side, maybe see about that tribe and what use they might be, and ready ourselves for the assault on the station when we hear of your success."

[Rising Chaos]

As Sevanix contacts Akardus the vox crackles for around twenty seconds before the First Officer's voice comes back through the amplifiers.
"Sir, designation comes back as a Dauntless class light cruiser, ship name unknown to our databanks. This either means the ship is too new to have been encountered by our fleets or that it is in a different segmentum"

[Emperor Ing]

That will work. Thank you, Officer. Certainly an unknown vessel to the Voice would more likely than not mean it is an unknown vessel to this station. He looks back to the group.

Obviously I would stick out rather easily. As such I propose that myself, Talan and his crew, Amara, and Slathissin make up the force to go towards the station, where our presence would cause less alarm among the Imperial citizenry and therefore could be more easily masked.

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai straightens, his face almost lighting up. "I have had a sudden idea which could either throw an Aquilla in the works, or slot the cog in the right spot. My mutations will be easily recognised as that of an Astropath. While I wouldn't be able to be heavily armed, I could act as though I was a new Astropath being delivered to the Choir."

Shrugging again he adds, "I would obviously need a guard, maybe an Astartes or two as Astropaths are a valuable resource. Plus it lets someone carry my weapons incase I need them."

[Brox]

"It is probably for the best that I do not accompany Mordechai. I cannot come out of this armor safely (even for those assembled here) and these legs are just a dead giveaway..."

[Bladehunter217]

"I apologize for my absence, I was busy revealing the wonders of Slannesh to some volunteers, I was resonably brought up to speed during pillow talk." In the doorway is what appears to be a masculine woman, or perhaps its a feminine man. She runs a hand through her dark hair, spinning a few strands around a finger. On her hips are a laspistol and an ornamental sword.

[Brox]

"I apologize for my absence, I was busy revealing the wonders of Slannesh to some volunteers, I was resonably brought up to speed during pillow talk."

In a low murmur: "I hope you've left a reasonable quantity of the nero-lock serum? I'd hate to run low in the middle of a session..."

Calna should go with the Astropath party. (S)he sohould be able to talk you through any difficult questions. @Calna: You should raise your voice 1 octave for this, my dear...

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara


It didn't take a Farseer to predict that they would soon be heading into the maelstrom of battle. As such, the eldar beheld her visage and decided that she was a little under-dressed for such an activity.

Furthermore, the new arrival reeked of She Who Thirsts. That made two of their accursed number present in the same room - a regrettable situation to be sure. Steeling her will, Amara repressed a shudder that would have otherwise quivered her soft skin. Filthy, degenerate perverts. Bastard children that they were: greedy piglets suckling at the teat of a entity until its multitudinous nipples were chaffed and bloody.

"Allow the team heading planet-side more leeway. They should decide their best course of action once they are immersed in local activity.

As for our access to the station, we can claim to the administrators that our transponder is malfunctioning and broadcasting incorrect vessel classification, and that to remedy the defect we will have to land aboard to commence minor repairs. That should grant us the opening we require."

[ArcturusV]

"Honestly, I don't think it matters. As long as we get on the station somehow. Maybe they want to arrest and interrogate us. Maybe they welcome us with open arms, perhaps they think we had some emergency and need medicae care... either way, we're going to be causing some carnage from the first moment we step on that station. No two ways about it, with our obvious differences."

Talan smiled, and looked over his Boys, Amara and Argus, "Either way, we should probably take about 30 minutes to... secure... some items from the ship's stores. Extra ammo, grenades, armor, gear, anything you think can be useful for an assault. There's no going back, no resupply, if you think there's even an outside chance you'd need it? Now is the time to get it."

[Emperor Ing]

Sevanix thinks for a moment. All things considered, I would like to propose group compositions: Talan, his crew, Amara, Argus, and the Night Lord on to the station while myself, Mordechai, and Calna will infiltrate the colony and liberate its slaves from the chains of the Corpse Tyrant.

Is this agreeable?

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara


"I am of no objection." Amara spoke out.

"The ship stores?"

The Eldar seemed to let out a soft, annoyed sigh.

"Attempting to pry an item out of that filthy brokerage-house-for-the-sleazy forces one to endure the tedious and mind-draining excuses of the custodians. Boring, stupid, ignorant windbags...if only their talent for acquisition matched that of their skill at excuses, then I would have no further need to sully my time with their pestiferous company."

Amara sighed again as she shook her head, her bewitching eyes gazing off at something only she could see.

"My procurement for particular items proceeds at a glacial pace; I am constantly mired in the swamp of their mewling, pithy evasions, of which I am growing intolerant. Hideous fools. Were I to say that their ineptitude was uncharacteristic of the equipment depots then salvation may lay in the assistance of another. But fate has lost none of its sting. All goods dwell within the machine of corruption whose gears are greased with the empty promises of wretches too spineless to occupy any other position of worth."

[ArcturusV]

Talan turned, and made his way to walk out, along with Walker leading the way as point man, Duke nearby, circling around him as he shuffled along, Helki and Silias flanking either side of him, "... well that won't do. You run an operation with me, you'll be prepared one way or another. Come on... I got some things to get anyway. Maybe I'll have the right touch. What was it you wanted again?" he looked back over his wing at Amara, seeing if she was following along as he left.

Either way, he was glad to be on the move, and away from some of the beings there that made him a little uneasy for various reasons. "How long has it been since you've been on a proper assault like this?" he asked, making small conversation with the Xenos as they went on their merry way to the storerooms, cargo holds, armories, etc, to find everything they'd need.

[Bladehunter217]

Calna licked her teeth, thinking. "Indeed, I hope I can find some halucinagens in the stores." She closed her eyes and breathed in before raising her voice just a little. "Much better."

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara

When Talan came alongside Amara, she was already walking out the door. Privately the Eldar was all-too-pleased to be vacant of that room and its grisly decorations. Such an...unnecessary display.

"Not long enough," the Eldar answered Talan's question, her voice carrying that patient, melodic tune as it always did. As they were now beside each other, the height difference was rather apparent as was the grace with which she moved.

"The depot, however, have been placing every obstacle before me to prevent my ascertaining the true source of their delays in facilitating my demands for a particular staff."

Glancing down at the human and then drifting her gaze over his assembled meneagerie, "I conjecture that supplying such a cohort requires frequent contact with the dregs that await our arrival?"

[ArcturusV]

Talan nodded as they walked, "Good, you never know with some of these 'heretical warlords' and the like. Either the Gods must favor them truly, or they're setting them up for some hilarious fall. Counting too much on their luck, or their tendency to be the biggest and baddest thing in the room." Talan chuckled a bit, a chuckle that echoed through his 'menagerie' except Walker, "... but you can't always count on that."

His hand unconsciously pet the head of Duke Talbot as he scampered along side him, Talan's own object lesson in that regard. Duke had been proud, cocky, and trusted in his ability to take down anything he came across. And now he was turned into effectively a sub-human for all his pride and prowess. That was the real reason Talan kept him around, well that and his loyalty. But it was always good to have that little humble reminder.

"For the most part I have my own logistical chain. I have people elsewhere who toil in my name. Trading, crafting, labors like that. It's where I got my gear you see now. It's really quite nice to have that steady flow of material on hand, you should consider getting an outside source yourself."

Oh, he was fine rambling on like this as they walked, speaking with all the air of just pleasant conversation and friendship, rather than some heretical warlord looking to gain the upper hand. He'd never match the grace or the fluidity of the Eldar's movements and words, but there seemed to be an attempt at civility, culture and refinement. Barbaric still probably to Amara's senses, but perhaps less so than the others, if not due to his own strange charisma then at least due to a slightly more 'even' personality less prone to extremism.

"But time to time, things like this tend to happen. At the very least the men down there may respond better to a more.... familiar seeming visage," he added, not exactly the most subtle but at least avoiding outright saying it was because she had pointy ears and lived freakin' forever. "Of course knowing how to play the game helps. Supply clerks be them Imperials, Mechanicus, heretical, independent, pirates... they all still tend to be bureaucrats. Petty kingdom building ones at that. They're used to people treating them poorly, breaking arms, threatening them, yelling... ah... one moment."

He stopped, stepping inside his quarters quickly on the way, grabbing a small box, about 3" by 5" by 3". Wooden it seemed, clear lacquered. "Box of Argavian Tea," he explained, "Fairly good stuff, but of a luxury that the average rating in this area is unlikely to find."

"Anyway, as I was saying... petty bureaucrats. The one thing they want most? Respect. In the Imperium that might be recognizing that they are 'In Charge' and giving them their due deference. Other places? A bribe. But either way, let them know they have a measure of respect, a little cheap token that costs you nothing like this? You get better results than all the screaming about torture, rape, and whipping that the... creatures back there would have relied upon."

Basically the Tea is Recaff. Which since I'd have an effective Over 100 to Acquisition it, it's just presumed "I have it". And it's a narrative tool to show how Talan likes to roll. Less MAIM BURN KILL and more "Won't you be my neighbor?" as he fleeces a supply clerk. Also sorry for the length, just padding things out, getting some characterization on the way before Rising just say "Alright you two, move along!"

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara

"A philosophy of an era long gone would disagree with you," Amara returned. Her height advantage allowed her to steala glances over at the curious item that the human held in his hands, her mistrustful mind not believing him at first when he offered an explanation for its purpose.

"He championed a proposition that respect was a secondary desire next to the generation of fear itself. He posited that though it is better to be both respected and feared, one would ultimately give way to the other, and of those two fear is the most desirable inspiration within ones underlings.

Fear halts most thoughts of treachery or any other action that could evoke ones ire. This is, of course, assuming that one remains feared and does not become hated via meddling and heavy-handed overbearing tactics."

[ArcturusV]

"Ah, but that's always the trick isn't it? How do you become Feared, but not Hated?" Talan asked as they walked. "Fear is a 30 lbs sledge. Yes you use it while you build, but more often than not it destroys what it hits."

"At the very least, if people fear you? They only do the minimal that they can get away with. They wait for the day that someone will put you down. And when you're down, out, and you need them? Well... they'll savor the moment to kick you in the eye."

"Don't get me wrong. It's useful. Fear can make a man do something he never would for any other reason. But I look towards the long term, and Fear is best in the short. Long term, if they love you, if they respect and admire you?" he glanced over to his minions, with the exception of Walker it seemed to be the truth. Helki and Silias were hanging on his every word, rapt attention. Duke Talbot following close by, eager and affectionate, "When you really need it, they're not the ones putting a knife into you."

He chuckled once, and looked over to Amara, "Take this situation, right here? Now... I could be like most of those we left behind. Try to convince you that I am some terrible, all powerful figure. That if you come up against me... I'll hammer you down and leave you broken and shattered, dedicating your soul to Chaos."

He didn't say it as a threat, not even a subtle one, just an assessment of how most Heretics tend to behave in his experience, alliances through Fear and Brute Force, threats, and application of power.

"I could try to break you. You'd try to break me. Each of us will spend the rest of this mission looking over our shoulder, wondering if the other is going to make a move. Or?" His wings fluttered a bit, a strange translation of a shrug, "Or I help you become more powerful. It's more likely to make the mission successful, and everyone come back alive. I give you a measure of aid and trust. You can take it or you can abuse it."

"In the end though? I'm more likely to come out ahead if we can play nice. Both of us really. Less likely to get harmed by the Imperials because we're too busy covering our own asses. More effective as an assault force, able to work together to be greater than the sum of our parts."

"... or we can try to terrify one another, and see if a stray grenade just happens to 'scatter' in appropriately during the confusion of battle. I prefer the former myself. It's a bit less hard on the equipment, you know?"

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara


This mon'keigh talks a lot...Amara found herself thinking half-way through Talans conversation. Outside of the agony that elicited the choirs of the screaming and impaired upon the ship, the Eldars ears were the most likely candidate for abuse aboard the vessel. She found it interesting that he stressed to her the value in monopolising love with his constant chatter...perhaps he was insecure in his beliefs? Interesting.

"Only a cynical man would call what these things have for you as "love"," she spoke plainly to Talan as they continued their navigation through the hallways of the Chaos frigate.

For a brief moment Amara's mind flew back to when she lived upon her Craftworld and the communual identity she and all the others of her naturally psychic race exhibited. Being exiled was like losing a limb, and its powerful impact belied her peoples impassioned connections.

"However, to draw upon your species idiomatic history a second time, I too have little need to beat my chest in aggressive displays, when I can instead walk softly and carrying an imposing stick. You yourself seemed to have done well in your endeavors," Amara noted, gesturing to the collection of gimps and deformity-stricken hunchbacks that clung to Talans shadow, "to insulate your person with a protective barrier against the knives of conspirators."

[ArcturusV]

Talan laughed a little, "Oh, I don't pretend it's love. I don't know what is. That's fodder for philosophers and poets to wax and wane about. I'm neither, of course."

He did that strange wing shrug again, "Well... that's one way to put it I suppose. It's a strange philosophy even among the followers of the Dark Gods, who are relatively open minded among Men. The people who find religion among them? Well... I hear them say that it's all about Number one, fight for the fittest, scrambling for the favors of the Gods, things like that. You get ahead by cutting someone else's throat."

"... but look where that has gotten them. In 10,000 years or so they haven't gotten any closer to kicking down the Imperium. Hell, they've LOST ground. Even on the micro scale... this whole battle group. I wonder how much of the mishaps are due to the excellence of our enemy over people too distracted about eliminating rivals and making themselves look good doing it."

He shrugged again, "... I have my own thoughts. I need decent soldiers. Some of the excesses of the people here... rankle me. Needless violence. Oh, I know sometimes you have to. By why kill a perfectly useful figure for some momentary lapse? Such a waste."

[Bladehunter217]

"Now, now children, play nice. Arguing isn't going to get us anywhere, not at the moment at least, later it could prove just right."

[Emperor Ing]

Perhaps but Talan does speak truth. Sevanix offers. We cannot justify bringing good, decent people into the embrace of Chaos if our alternative to the Imperium is just as horrible, if not worse. Trading one tyrant for another, as it were.

For what it is worth, since I know how trustworthy followers of Tzeentch such as myself are known for being, I wish to make you all a promise: I will never seek to deceive you. The knife in the shadows will never be held by my hand, and so long as our goals are aligned, I will stand with you. I swear to you all this on my word. A click is heard, with the faint sliding of metal against metal, like the sliding of a clip out from a bolter. Such is actually being done, as Sevanix eyes his firearm, switching between clips reasons unknown.

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara


Amara remained quiet and contemplative as Talan summarised his view on the current political climate of the galaxy, as far as the confines of the Eye of Terror and Humanities Imperium were concerned. For the most part he was right, from his perspective. For a human the last ten thousand years was one of constant struggle, but only along the boarders of its domain - occassional penetrations not withstanding. For the Eldar, however, the Eye of Terror represented a far greater shame than any other species could know. Their hedonsim, their self-indulgence at lifes friviloties had manifested a metaphysical wound near the centre of the galaxy as they had birthed that...thing. Theirs had been an Empire that had accomplished wonders, now they were nomads and the entire galaxy was threatened by their most awful creation. Briefly, Amara wondered how much of this history Talan or, indeed, the humans knew. Very little she'd imagine...but she had been incorrect before as to the scope of information the creatures were capable of unearthing.

The prism of emotions, shame, regret, anger, vengeance...the spectrum was too small to contain the enormity of their resulting rumination.

"Yes, very little has been gained by the maligned powers in ten millennium. But remember - the gods are eternal and flesh is transient."

A grim, if nihilistic thought.

Then the other Slaaneshi thing spoke from behind.

The tips of Amara's keen ears twitched slightly as she turned her head to look over once her shoulder at the androgynous creature.

"And to what part of the ship is your refreshing brand of charm being delivered?"

[ArcturusV]

"Maybe. Seen enough of the Galaxy, it's hard to believe that anything is really eternal. The boundaries of what I've thought was Impossible have been pushed back so often..." he shook his head a little, "Next thing I'll hear some Tech-Priest will go figure out Tzeentch's domain and beat him at chess."

He turned, looking back to the Fat Boy and the he/she, "Thought you all were still back in the amphitheater, bickering out details?" he shrugged a little, "Doesn't matter. I take it you all have had supply chain issues as well?"

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara


The Eldar listened to Sevanix's pledge with an abundance of cynicism. Sure, she'll trust the follower of Tzeentch to keep his word and restrain himself from self-serving betrayal. She'd also trust a Tyranid to guard an orphanage.

"Your sincerity is touching." Amara said to the terminator-armor clad sorcerer, her tone dry and flat. It was almost impossible to tell if she was being sarcastic, or just her usual self.

"I shall remember your pledge of companionship when placed in the most perilous of situations."

She also wouldn't forget it.

[Bladehunter217]

"My current destination is to get some hallucinagens. Afterwards, it does not matter so much, unless you have a few ideas." She winkeed and continued past.

[Emperor Ing]

I am where I need to be. He pockets the previous clip of bolt shells. If all goes well I may not need them but I find an additional one or two clips of bolt rounds are always useful. They should not be difficult to get. Despite the stagnant levels of innovation present in the Dark Mechanicus, the relative abundance of ammunition was something Sevanix always appreciated. Just what is it that prevents the Dark Mechanicus from building truly wondrous devices anyways? Surely the forces of Chaos could do better than wielding hand-me-downs and replicas thereof from the Great Crusade.

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG


"My current destination is to get some hallucinagens. Afterwards, it does not matter so much, unless you have a few ideas." She winkeed and continued past.


Amara shuddered.

Once she had composed herself, the Eldar continued to the armory.

[Brox]

(Watching as Talan and his retinue, Sevanix, Amara and Calna leave the meeting room...)

"The rest of you may wish to go now as well. I hunger, and tarrying over long may prove to be detrimental to your well-being..."

With that I slide the long-ignored plate of food closer and begin to disengage the latches on my helmet.

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai shudders at the suggestion and leaves the room, he was glad to be out of the vile room anyway. As he leaves he remembers that Talan wanted to meet with him in private, more curious than cautious. Heading to Talan's quarters as that would be the most likely place to find him he let his.mind wander the ship to find each of the other Psykers in his group.

Well, not really needed but Just for something to going to take a Psyniscience test to locate everyone.

vs 64 [roll0]

[Elurindel]

Slathissin claps his gauntlets together. It was time to be decisive. The banter was all well and good, but the longer they floated and did nothing, the longer they had a chance of becoming prey. "I am going to find a shuttle to get us a way in. Anybody here is welcome to follow me, especally if you are a good pilot." he turns and makes for the shuttle bays.

[Brox]

I'll pause before removing my helm...

"Astartes...Please confirm your vox frequency. We can't run around without some means of communication, right? Please do the same with the others.

I'll synch my comm with his. Once he leaves, I'll greedily devour the food on my plate and any left over.

[Elurindel]

The Night Lord keys in his frequency, pinging everybody before heading out to see what is available.

[Rising Chaos]

Armoury
Those heading towards the armoury walk through the labyrinthine passages of the ship on their way to resupply. The interior halls of the ship are even filthier than the conditions on the bridge and amphitheater, grime and grit coat every surface and a variety of coloured molds creep up the walls. Twice you pass bodies lying or stuffed against the side of the corridor, both in various states of open decay.

As you pass through an open bulkhead you finally step into the ship's main armoury. Located near this level's genetorium the armoury is a large room who's walls and ceilings are criss-crossed with pipes, wiring and other intricate devices. Any open surface is desecrated with signs to the dark gods and the symbols of the Dark Mechanicus. Near the back of the room are three large, heave brass tables, each with a multitude of weapons, armour and various other devices in states of disrepair or augmentation.

The Lord Quartermaster, Magos Killvern HAU-THM IV towers over one of these tables. A thin, emaciated human his red robes hang limply over his wasted body, if not for the dozens of tines and mechanisms jutting from his pallid flesh and the occasional shuddering hiss of his augmentic lungs you'd wonder how such a thin man could continue living. Five long, spindly legs sprout from his back. Each is over two meters long and easily make him taller than a normal astartes, two of the legs are above the table, sprouting thin mechanendrites to work on his labors.

The Quartermaster is not along in the room, lining each side of the armoury are six large combat servitors. Each has multiple layers of heavy ceramite drilled into their skin and wield a serrated, rusting combat saw on their right arm and a lightly hissing plasma gun in their left arms.
As you enter the room the servitors give a blurt of binary code, alerting Killvern to your presence and automatically arming their weapons. The Lord Quartermaster turns, his three red augmentic lenses twisting to get a better view.
"Ahh, good fleshlings... enter! Enter... how can the true mechanicus be of service to you this day?".

Hanger
The path to the hanger is long and winding, the ship's Tessarect labyrinth serving it well. The route is littered with grime, mold and the shuffling presence of many ratings and servants aboard the vessel, though many fling themselves aside or bow deeply and attempt to avoid eye-contact with the fearsome presence of a Night Lords Space Marine. The doors to the hanger bay part before you and you stride into the large, room. The hanger bay is a flurry of activity, with technitians and ratings running back and forth, fetching parts and oils to tend to and upkeep the ships many war machines. From where you are you can easily make out the form of three Aquilla Lighters and an Arvus Lander. The two Aquilla Lighters have been extensivly worked on, black iron spikes jut from it's wing tips and across the roof and canopy. The eight pronged star is proudly splattered across the wings, and lines of blasphemous text are scrawled on every open surface.

The Arvus look tamer in comparison. They are lacking and desecration to the dark gods and aside from the profuse scratch marks where the aquilla's and Imperial symbols were torn off, they seem to look free of heresy at the moment. However they are in the process of getting the same 'consecration' applied to them. Ratings have put together crude blacksmithing tables and are hammering black metal chunks into crude spikes and two techpriests are dripping oils and vials of black fluid into two large vats of something that looks similar to human blood.

Mordechai
The path to Talan's room is winding and disorientating, though it's much easier to navigate with the warp as your guide. As you expand your mind you can feel the presence of the others roaming the ship, you also get small wisps of resonance from other beings within the vessel. Their slight, though almost non-existant psychic powers flickering in the dark.

[Brox]

Argus hustles out of the meeting room back to the Interrogation complex. I will set the excruciators to a variable rotation on all victims, collect my personal set of torture tools and make my way to the docking bay/hangar.

[Emperor Ing]

Good day, sir. Sevanix waves to the decrepid Magos, careful not to disturb the air too much because the little Magos appears so fragile, Sevanix is convinced he might shatter under a stiff breeze. I would like to inquire as to the availability of Bolter Rounds, and Vox-Casters.

[ArcturusV]

"Master of the Steel, may your machines never malfunction," Talan said with an air of polite ritual, giving a short little bow towards the Magos. He seemed to be living up to his theories, at least he wasn't screaming about ripping the man's arms off and beating them with him until he got what he desired.

He came forth respectfully, his small box set on the table before the Magos, "A small offering from my holdings, for your enjoyment," he flipped open the box, and what did you know, it was exactly what he said it was. Tea, and probably something unlike the Recaff swill that you'd get aboard a ship that looked more like green sludge than anything fit for humanoid consumption. Even if the Dark Magos wasn't a tea drinker, well... he could always regift it for favors.

"We have an important assault coming up, if you haven't heard. We'll need your finest munitions and gear, our success is in your hands, as it always is," Talan smiled at the Magos, his groupies clustered near him, with the exception of Walker who refused to enter the room. Helki was peeking around Talan's wings at the half mechanical man, while Silias seemed more interested in studying the servitors, and the feral Duke nestled by Talan's feet.

[Elurindel]

The Night Lord looks to the largest of the shuttles Unsure whether the Aquila or Arvus is larger. "Machine men, I wish this vessel ready for deployment within the hour. Unless we do something about the space station here we'll be stuck on silent running or be forced to run. And be sure it can accomodate more of my brothers."

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara


The Eldar slid into the armory behind the main group, her elevated height allowing her a sweeping view of the dirty surroundings she found herself in. The poor condition of the ship interior was...shameful, to say the least, but here in the armory, the centre of small-arm weaponry, the conditions were no better. It was beyond Amara's ability to reason as to how such disorganised and deteriorated groups were even able to pose a threat to the Imperium, let alone her own people.

"We seem to keep running into each other, Lord Quartermaster." Amara's voice drifted o spoke to the dilapidated creature. The vile mixture of flesh and mechanics was an abomination to the Eldar's sensitive decorum. Were his cybernetics subtle or born from necessity she may forget them - but to do this to ones physical presence in the galaxy? If he put so little value in his own flesh, then he put nothing in theirs.

[Rising Chaos]

Talan, Amara, Sevanix
Magos Killvern moves closer to Talan, though not so much walking as scuttling on his five mechanical legs while his body sways gently like a stick caught in a light breeze. As the Magos lowers himself to study the box one of his front mechanendrites extends it's half dozen delicate manipulators and picks up the tea box, studying it for a moment. Though the Magos seemed to not notice Helki his moving had brought him very close to her and his back was close to brushing against her.

After a few moments Killvern closes the box and a low, grating mechanical voice blurts out.
//ITEM IDENTIFIED//HERBAL ORGANIC COMPONENT COMMONLY USED IN PRODUCTION OF LIQUID NUTRIENT//CONVENIENT CARRIER FOR POISONS, TOXINS OR OTHER PATHOGENIC SUBSTANCES//.
Strangely this voice does not issue from Killvern's vox-grill, instead it seems to have issued from the the top of his spine. Turning Killvern nods to Talan and begins to move in front of the assembled group.

"I accept your offer fleshing Proctor, my services and wares are available for the right price, what is it you and the tainted xenos require? If the sorcerer has payment I will fetch what little supply of Astartes bolt rounds I have in stock".

The servitor Silias is observing moves it's head incrementally to look at him and blurts a line of binary cant but aside from that does nothing.

Argus
Some of the prisoners beg or scream as you enter, but aside from that nothing out of the ordinary. Most of the crewmen you pass on the way to the hanger either scurry out of the way or bow and make the sign of the Prince of Excess as you pass. You arrive as the Night Lord astartes is in the process of procuring a ship.

Slathissin
((Aquilla's a bit larger I believe))
The nearest rating snaps around in fear and bows low, not wanting to risk a glance at your face.
"Y-yes Lord of Night, we will prepare the rituals and have it serviceable as you require"
He scurries off to call the other ratings who were ready to desecrate the Arvus Landers and a minute or so later a large group of them are working to get the closest Aquilla up and running.

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara


"My purpose for coming here has not differed from when I last visited, Quartermaster." Amara said, her tone becoming a little sharper and more cool at the suggestion that she was a "tainted" Xenos.

"Am I to infer from your sly evasion to any memory of my name, that you are to remiss upon your prior assurances of delivery of an item I have purchased?"

[ArcturusV]

Talan nodded as the Dark Magos took his 'offering', a fair first round of the game of merchants and men. "I have a short list of small, inconsequential seeming things that you should not miss here upon this vessel. Of course I don't come empty handed, you likely know who I am, my reputation, and that I come from the Ragged Helix where I maintain my holdings in good stead. While you might be... tempted..." he let that hang in the air for a moment, "To merely give me what I desire, perhaps to ingratiate yourself to me, in case I ever need the services of the True Mechanicus, perhaps on a nice cozy manufactorium full of all the machines, slaves, and parts you could ever dream of, no. No you won't have to do it for merely that reason, allowing you to move up from this crumbling shell of a vessel to a new, state of the art facility."

"No, this time you'll do it for a wholly different reason. Not just because I know the strength of your worth, and the value of your devices, but because you're in desperate need of decent raw materials here, the sort of materials I can promise a shipment of in the near future," he was vague, but if the man knew his reputation, which he might, he'd know it wasn't a hollow promise, that his serfs mined out the asteroids of his Fief, one of the many ways Talan kept as wealthy as he did, and able to afford the Best of everything.

"So, Lord of the Steel, do we have ourselves an understanding?"

Obvious Commerce Test is Obvious, in this case trying to sell him a Future Shipment of Ores in order to secure some current transactions. Rules for Commerce is every DoS I get, I get +2 to my Infamy for the Acquisitions Test.

[roll0] vs my 52 Fellowship, but I'm untrained in Commerce so -20 for an end target of 32. This is opposed by the Dark Magos Quartermaster's Willpower or Commerce, whichever is better. Possible +10 Bonus since "Merchant Owes me a Favor" due to gift? If not better perhaps as I probably dealt with this guy several times during the whole Campaign of Terror before the game started.

[Emperor Ing]

I offer a payment of favor. Name a price and see yourself indebted to by a Sorcerer of the Thousand Sons, one I intend to pay at a time and place of your choosing. Within reason of course. A vox-caster is not worth the time and effort it takes to capture an imperial Light Cruiser. All I ask is for a single, humble vox-caster in addition to a supplement of Astartes Bolter Ammo.


Infamy check Target 39 (base 29 + 0 (scarce) + 10 (single item)
[roll0]

[Col.Straken]

Growing impatient Mordechai decides to head towards the Quartermaster as there were a few small things that he could make use of, mostly dataslates to keep Imperial encryptions on however a forgery kit would help them get past basic security protocols. He smiled as he ran his ideas through his head, and what could go right and wrong trying to pick the strands of fate to avoid the latter. Talan could ask his favour while they both acquired their goods, clearly it wasn't that important of a matter.

Once he reached the stores Mordechai scribbled a list and handed it over to the Magos in charge not bothering with promises or bribes. The items he wanted were common enough in general that they should be freely available.

I shall roll for items in the OOC as there are quite a few.

[Elurindel]

Slathissin nods, his cursory glance of the shuttle finding it to his satisfaction, for now. As long as it could get them there it was of little concern how it looked. Nobody would be looking at it directly anyway. That said, he went to assemble a number of cheap and disposable void suits for the others that would ride with him. In between, he took some time to acid-clean some of the black paint from his armour, letting small amounts of spit from his Betcher's gland scour patches of the paint from his armour, leaving a mottled, patchy, almost camouflage pattern to it.

[Rising Chaos]

Talan, Amara, Sevanix, Mordechai
As Talan finished speaking Killvern paused, as if considering the arbite's offering. After a few moments he uttered an odd grating sound, as if chuckling.
"An impressive offer, fleshing proctor. You ask much of my armoury, and unfortunately I cannot provide all that you seek. I have heard tell of your prowess and the property that you claim ownership of. However I believe you underestimate our blinded brethren that follow the corpse-god. Regardless of our retreat we failed over Port Wander, and I believe the Imperium will do what they always do and begin to decimate and blockade our assets. Once the masses of our fellow warriors begin to respect you, and we have confirmed that our forces can still reach the Ragged Helix I may be more willing to grace our fief"
With that Killvern utters a brief blurt of binary code and the servitor Silias was watching turns on it's heels and marches into the armoury behind you.

Killvern then turned to Amara, and though his tone did not display any hint of emotion, the mechanendrites not supporting the Magos' frame bristled as he looked down at her.
"We remember your designation xenoform Amara. We also remember during our last interaction we would procure a force staff once we had found a suitable port to procure such a device. Luckily your fleshling proctor has requested an adequate replacement for the time being"

Moments later Mordechai enters and hands the Magos the list of items he requires. With another short burst of binary cant two of the remaining servitors trundle into the armoury.
After just over a minute the servitors return. One holds a metal weapons case containing 20 frag grenades and 10 hallucinogen grenades. One is carrying a long, chipped staff that seems to be made of some sort of driftwood, as well as a bundle of half a dozen dataslates. The third servitor has a vox-caster draped over one arm and holds a small case containing three astartes bolter clips.

Killvern moves back towards his workbench, chittering with his skiitari in binary. Once he reaches the desk he turns back to the gathered heretics and nods to them.
"I hope these items will aid you in our quest to hasten our departure from this system. If you interact with our dear captain in the future remind him that in order to keep our troops well armed we require contact with our brethren for supplies every so often"

Slathissin
Your search for void-suits is mercifully short, and you are able to procure ten suits easily from the lockers of the hanger's ratings, none of them have the nerve to challenge your acquisitions. Though most of the suits are far too small for your augmentic frame this matters little to your combat sealed astartes armour.
As you 'clean' your armour you think back to the captains of your legion with grim satisfaction. A number of your old superiors would have loathed disfiguring your armours color heraldry, but those old bastards placed aesthetics over actual stealth tactics.

[ArcturusV]

Talan snaps his fingers, signalling for Helki and Silias to get done with what they were doing, and pick up the boxes. For his part, Talan took up the staff, and immediately handed it to the Eldar Amara with a short little toss, "Ain't much to look at, but it should do the job until we get better," he explained. It was as he was turning to leave with his entourage that he noticed Mordecai the Astropath had entered.

"Ah... yes. Late for our appointment. Business concerns, you understand, had to make sure my people are well equipped for the dangers ahead, before I indulged into more personal, long term pursuits. He signalled for Helki and Silias to go on ahead and start divying out some of the grenades among themselves and Walker.

"I'll catch up in a bit, Amara," he said, hoping the elf would take the hint as he wanted as much 'privacy' as possible before dealing with whatever favor it was he wanted out of the psyker. "I seem to have a moment now, if you mind taking a short walk where we can discuss what I need from you."

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara

As she beheld the synthesis of man and machine that was the quartermaster, Amara wondered silently to herself just how intricate his mechanical and electrical systems were. More importantly, she pondered how...fragile, they were, and how easily they might give way to malevolent meddling. All it would take, she hypothesised, was the subtle application of her abilities...a pulled wire here, a shut-off valve there...she could not begin to fathom the redundancy systems he had devised into his forms, but she doubted that he had done so with the privy of supernatural offenses.

Amara's contemplation was halted, however, when she was handed what was one of the most depressing items she had ever held. Where she had expected a staff of moderate appearances, she was instead receiving a beaten up old stick.

Graciously receiving the staff from Talan, Amara's eyes peered over the shaft with barely disguised scrutiny.

'Yes...truly a weapon whose terrifying visage shall live on in legend...' she thought sourly to herself.

"Well, Quartermaster, you seem to be an honest man when you detail the deficit of your material resources..."

Holding the staff in one deft hand, she twirled it around once or twice before bringing it to a halt by her side. From her elevated height, the shaft appeared to be no bigger than a walking stick.

"Quaint."


oOo

Departing the realm of the quartermaster, Amara made her way through the filthy intestines of the vessel until she was standing in front of the doorway to the dwelling she had been given that passed for a "living quarters" amongst the humans.

Entering her abode, Amara set about changing for the approaching violence that she would soon find herself within - casual, everyday clothes were the most apt garb for such an occasion.

Soon she was garbed in her form-hugging wraithbone (http://fc07.deviantart.net/fs29/f/2008/052/9/3/jedi_eldar_by_siegfried005.jpg), the comforting feeling a welcome return for the Eldar that had often relied upon it in the past to protect her. Holstering her shuriken pistol and placing her mono-sword on her back-sheath, Amara departed and headed towards the hanger bay.

Soon her lithe figure graced through the parting doors of the hanger bay.

[Elurindel]

The Night Lord was catching a few moments of half-sleep, suspended from underneath the shuttle by his maglock boots like a great bat.
"Ah, I suppose it would be the one who sees the future that arrives first. Any favourable portents for our journey, alien?"

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara


Pausing as she passes beneath one of the shuttles wings - human vessels still needed these? - the eldar craned her neck to behold the night lord that had affixed himself to the ship. He certainly seemed the dramatic type, Amara thought to herself.

But such a penchant was common amongst the genetically-enhanced Marines of the Imperium, she thought. At least, she hadn't met one yet that spoke of his own abilities with humility.

"Were none to exist, would I be accompanying you?"

[Elurindel]

The Night Lord disengaged his boots, turning end-over-end to let his boots slam down on the metallic floor, his cloak swiftly adjusting to hug his form once more.

"Touche. This flight will not be short, nor will it be comfortable. But if 'tis good enough for the Alpha Legion, 'tis good enough for I. Make what preparations you must, and there are void-suits in the shuttle. I would advise to keep up, but I'm sure you'll have no such issues that the humans will."

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai thanked the Quartermaster as he took the Dataslates, it was a start at least though he would have like the Forgery kit at least. When Talan asked for him in private he was slightly confused, what could he want with him. "Ah Talan, I waited for you at your quarters but grew bored so I thought I would come find you while I got some acquisitions of my own. I didn't think it required such privacy that you seek my aid." he shrugged before continuing, "I'm not sure what I can help you with, but ask away and I'll see what I can do."

[ArcturusV]

Talan shrugged at the Astropath, certain he could see the action even without 'eyes', since he navigated the ship just fine anyway. "No, not really... but you never know what someone might try to use against you."

Talan walked slowly, getting some distance where his minions were within eye shot, and otherwise no one seemed to be watching. Not that it was all that strange a request, but it was still one that he didn't want other people meddling with.

"You used to be an Astropath," Talan said, matter of factly, "I need a message sent to my holdings, since we've been out of contact for so long in the warp. A simple task for one such as you, I imagine. Merely appraise them of our status, where we are, the time slip that happened. And give them orders 'business as usual, make the regular deals, await further contact, Code Belgrade.'."

It was vague enough that he doubted anyone, even the psyker would glean anything from it. But it was still an important missive, and not one that he wanted intercepted or "altered" by anyone on the way.

Talan seemed rooted to the spot, waiting for some sign that the Astropath had sent the message (Or rejected the request).

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara


"Yes, your plan..." Amara trailed off, her mind going over the spiral-into-insanity that awaited them all.

"I find it needlessly complicated and contingent on both too many moving parts and the luck of the galaxy showing us some favour. But..."

Amara hoisted the helmet of her void-mesh armour and planted it atop her head. It sealed itself along the ridges of her collarbone and granted her that impassive, alien, insectoid visage that the armour of the Eldar projected.

"It's the plan that everyone else has favoured." her voice came through the electronic scrambler, giving it a more ethereal and otherworldly quality.

[Emperor Ing]

Having properly thanked the Magos for his services, Sevanix arrived, albeit rather slowly, at the hangar, looking over at the desecrated shuttles with no small amount of displeasure. Aquila Landers with the iconography of the hated Imperium would be invaluable on infiltration missions. The staff may as well have attached a bright sign to the front with the words "We Worship Chaos" painted on the front. Add a few Chaos Undivided sigils for good measure.

No, no, no! He walks up to the tech-adepts and workers building icons of worship to be installed onto the last remaining Argus Lander. At least that can be attributed to just battle damage or something. For now, the Terminator Sorcerer calls out to attention the workers, speaking firmly get gently. Our plans require at least one of these landers to not display our devotions to our enemies. Your productivity and initiative is commendable but I would ask you refrain from applying the Gods' blessings to the Lander any further.

[Rising Chaos]

Hanger
Many of the ratings give odd or scared glances as Amara walks into the room, her presence no doubt boosted by the wraithbone armour she encased herself in.

As Sevanix approaches the least-molested Arvus the worker closest to him almost wets himself in the terror of addressing the imposing form of a terminator sorceror "Y-yes lord! W-we will make it so all powerful one! Glory to the Changer and all the members of the Black Legion!" he stammers quickly, obviously not seeing past the imposing decor of your armour.

[Emperor Ing]

Sevanix disliked their groveling. He would prefer it if they would sigh in relief that they no longer have to work. Sevanix was not entirely sure if he considered their groveling worse or that they, through no fault of their own of course, mistook him for a Black Legionnaire. As though he would want to associate with that marauding batch of witless morons.
That is appreciated, thank you.

Furthermore, could I inquire as to whether or not you have blue and gold paints to spare...?


Infamy check for a Minor amount of Graffitio Paints target 59
[roll0]

[BananaPhone]

http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/images/1/11/Idranel.JPG Amara

Amara's helmet fed her information about her surroundings that allowed her, out of the peripheral of her senses, to observe the amusing exchange between Sevanix and his labouring lackeys.

Perking up a corner of her lips, the Eldar mused silently to herself about the over-sized and over-sensitive minion of the Changer of Ways: his imposing image a stark contrast to his consideration for those below him. For several seconds she pondered how his behaviour would serve the planet-side team, and whether, ironically, his remaining humanity might enhance their chances at success.

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai nodded as he listened, if he was honest he didn't know if he still could send a message that far, especially without an Astropathic Choir. The untrained always thought it was as easy as closing your eyes and poof, done. "I will see what I can do, do you have an Astropath that could receive the message? It takes more than a few seconds to send a message such distance." rooting through his items he handed Talan one of his blank Dataslates, "Put it on here, and I will see if I get it sent before the end of this mission."

[Elurindel]

The Night Lord boarded the shuttle, donning his traditional winged helmet, the lenses coming to life and bringing the taste of stale, recycled air through his lungs.

"Does anybody know how to fly this thing?" Slathissin ventured.

[BananaPhone]

http://i1248.photobucket.com/albums/hh483/tempestII/c_zps5e1e9e05.jpg Amara


Moving up the ramp-way, the Eldar came to a halt within the antechamber of the shuttle as Slathissin hinted at a future conundrum. The alien seemed to stare at the Night Lord in silent consideration - if her face expressed anything then it was unseen behind the unblinking visage of her helmet.

Taking her attention to a row of seats, Amara used her new stick as an extension of her arm as she held out the tip and prodded several dataslates off of the worn-thin cushion of the chairs. Nimbly she slunk forward to occupy the now vacant space, where she sat in silence.

[Rising Chaos]

Hanger
The ratings look at Sevanix with a bemused expression, as if confused by the fact that the astartes standing before them is not screaming malice and rage. One of the slaves gestures towards one of the gurgling pots of liquid they were using. "W-we have no blue my lord, however the pot there contains the greatest golden hue we could procure. The better to exalt the deeds of the great gods with!"

As Slathissin called out for pilots one of the humans near the back of the hanger stood up. He was seated near the lockers that had so recently been searched for void-suits, and was dressed in a well-worn, almost ragged pilots vest. Walking towards the Night Lord he tilted his head forward in reverence before speaking.
I suppose that would be me, lord astartes. This vessel is mine to command. I shall begin the necessary rights and be ready for departure in less than five minutes."

[Elurindel]

"Very good. Be warned that this shall be a test of your abilities indeed." the Night Lord begins describing the plan to the pilot. "If you feel you are not up the task, well...I can learn the memories from your lifeless flesh. Either way is a risk for you."

[Emperor Ing]

They seemed to have picked up on the fact that Sevanix is not going to eviscerate them if they look at him wrong, but they seem almost disappointed. What happened to them?! Perhaps to get his way Sevanix could use an implicit threat of force, but he can't bring himself to. If there truly was no blue then even following through on said threat would not change that. Hmmm, very good. He nods, accepting.

Do keep a hold of that paint, would you? I will seek blue hues elseware. In the meantime, are you aware who will be flying? The Terminator looks to the modified Transport. He expects to be riding it to the planet's surface below. Marks and scars could be seen across its surface detailing where icons to the hated Imperium were, unfortunately, removed. Fortunately it wasn't necessarily blasphemous, and the damage can either be attributed to battle-scars, or the scars of a half-finished retrofitting of a Lander requisitioned on short-notice. Yes, that could work, and neither of them are mutually exclusive. If the landing crew insists on repairs, Sevanix (or someone else) could say that the lander functions fine, and the damage was already fully documented, any courtesy repairs would cause unnecessary headaches for everybody.

[ArcturusV]

Talan was quick with the dataslate, hammering out a simple message that seemed to be in some sort of cipher, because while it included what might be expected, a status update an "Code Belgrade", as he mentioned, but a bit more filler that seemed to be a conversation about Lex Imperialis, and made little sense in context.

"Send it when you will, if we arrive at my holdings, I'll see that you are properly rewarded for your service," Talan promised. Handing it back, he gathered up his minions once more and headed off towards the hanger, "Try to loot me some good rations while you're down there as well... I get tired of the slop on this ship," he called back to the Astropath with a light hearted tone. "Maybe some fresh produce for a change of pace, it'll do morale good."

.... minutes later....

The crew arrived at the lighter bay, looking ready for battle, grenades distributed among them, armored up, ready to go. Talan taking point of the gang, with his minions arranged in a slot diamond behind him. He seemed uneasy, eyes forward towards the shuttle, there was a tenseness among his minions that wasn't there before. Without a word he walked up the ramp of the lighter that he spied the Space Elf and the Night Lord in, tucking his wings in to save on some space.

"... this is going to be a miserable few days..." he muttered, already anticipating the long slow cold drift to the station... powered down, ice forming on everything, no good rations, the only company being his own minions... good enough company though not interesting as they knew each other well... and the others who promised to most likely be less than ideal.

[Col.Straken]

Mordechai accepted the dataslate, he had a plan for how to get the message out, just had to hope it worked. "I'll see what I can find. If they still feed Astropaths what they did when I was part of the Astra Telepathica, then you wont be too impressed."

When Talan set off for the hangar, Mordechai didn't see why not follow, he would have to head there himself anyway. He walked in silence until they arrived, "Well, which ship is ours? he said the the hangar in general, he figured it was time to get this suicide mission under way.

[Rising Chaos]

Hanger
The pilot Slathissin is talking to pales visibly as the Night Lord talks about feasting upon him, but keeps his composure fairly well. "Of course my lord. I am confident my skills will be exactly what you require, if you'll excuse me". With that he walks quickly into the hanger, very consciously avoiding the astartes gaze.

As Sevanix asks about the pilot the rating points inside the shuttle "Voidsman Arapa flies this vessal my lord. He was brought to us bolted into his command chair but has seen the true melody of the warp and pledged his loyalty to the pantheon of the gods! He will serve you well, we swear!". Peering inside you can make out the silhouette of a bulky, humanoid shape. The figure is covered in plugs, wires and tines, and two rating scurry about him, connecting wires, murmuring prayers and aiding him in his flight check.

As Talan and Mordechai many of the rating scurry away or else bow as they pass. Though they are not astartes they are so far above the crew in terms of power and stature that they may as well be. As you approach the shuttles the throaty buzzing of engines is followed by the smell of promethium and grit being blown into the air. The Arvus and Aquilla are in the final stages of preparation and the rating scurry away as the two ships finalize their ignition rites.

[Elurindel]

The Night Lord settled into half-sleep, knowing that now would be the best time to ensure that he was fully rested, since the journey would likely take many hours. Behind his helmet, none would know he was any more or less alert than usual.With the other half of his mind, he began slowly, methodically checking his weapons and gear, the rote of it comforting even if he preferred not to use such crude, noisy tools unless absolutely necessary.