Rogue Trader: Where Angels Fear To Tread (IC)

[Aneurin]

Only we few shall see what lurks beyond those terrible passes and beyond those dark and glittering gulfs. Be it death or ancient majesty, we shall tread the void and see what lies that little further.
-- Rogue Trader Aleana Howsian

Port Wander (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUsHr8fLQe0)

The space station wallows in the void, its spires and cathedral towers speckled with a thousand pinpricks of light. It is a veritable city, protected by the Imperial Navy and home to a million merchants. It is a haven to the outcast, to the holy, to the mad and to the Rogue Traders who are so often all of those and more. It is the last stop in the Calixis Sector before a ship crosses the Maw and enters the lawless wilds of the Koronus Expanse, which lies beyond the remit of the Lex Imperialis and the Navy.

The Zero Sum Game hangs in a cavernous docking bay, as it has for the last week as the final preparations are made for crossing the Maw, supplies are finalised and new crew are properly broken in. She is ready for the trip - all that is left is finding a destination in the Expanse.

Which is why it is a source of considerable consternation when the ship's spymaster speaks up during an officer's meeting. It seems that one of his agents in the port has disappeared.

"...normally I would handle the matter without bothering your good self, my Captain," the small, fussy man says fiddling with the data-slate in his lap. "However, since the authorities are so... ah... watchful of our crew at present, I am reluctant to risk an incident that may invoke the Port's wrath and retribution without your permission,"

It's certainly a point to consider. The Navy and Port authorities are somewhat unhappy about having a non-Navy battlecruiser - particularly one with a Nova Cannon - so close to the station. While a single battlecruiser is no serious threat to a star fort like Port Wander, it could still do an incredible amount of damage before its destruction. For some reason mentioning the Lord-Trader Ranesia has only made them more wary, and the augermen have reported a number of Navy frigates taking up position within intercept distance of the Zero Sum Game.

"The last report I had, he was going to meet a contact at a certain tavern - some interesting tidbit you may care to investigate, though he did not divulge anything else. Since then, nothing. Most perplexing," he frowns a moment. "Your permission to investigate, my lady Captain?"

[The Blue Guard]

Adept Coretta

Adept Coretta, a gangling woman of six feet, stood just off to the side during the meeting. Standing there, not moving except for slight turns of her head, bedecked in red robes and cybernetics, she was an imposing figure. Her head moved, and her too-far-apart eyes stared intently at the spymaster.

"What, precisely, was your agent doing?" Coretta's voice emanated from her, but her mouth did not open — a vox-synthesiser inside her respirator unit creating the sound. "Specifics," she added in a slightly annoyed tone, though that may have just been static.

[Astro_sol]

Krieger

Krieger Strauss was a man who tried to be ready for anything. It was why he had quite recently gotten his entire bone structure reinforced with plasteel, although he didn't have time for further augmentations. He also carried a Boltgun, and the only reason it wasn't a heavy model was because heavies weren't good in close quarters. Speaking of, he needed a chain-attachment to his weapon. And more grenades. Five wasn't enough. He wondered if he could attach both to his weapon...

His mind drifted back to the topic at hand. Obviously, the spymaster had found something well and truly interesting. If it was a tidbit he thought worthy of bringing to the Captain's attention, then it was something worth pursuing. And even if he hadn't, it was probably worth pursuing anyway.

"Captain, if I may," he said through a lit lho-stick, not taking his eyes off the spymaster. "If you're going to send anyone, I'd send me. If things go ploin-shaped, you could always beam me out at a moment's notice, and we could be out of here before anyone does too much damage to us." His eyes drifted back to the spymaster. "Do tell. Do you know anything about his contact? Or anyone besides the Navy who's been eyeing us a little too much for comfort?"

Which, theoretically, was anyone. All the time. Maybe he should bring a backpack of shells, but that would probably backfire with the local authorities. A bandolier of ammo would suit him just fine. Maybe six grenades instead of five.

[Jade_Tarem]

Miriam

The Rogue Trader didn't know what a 'ploin' was, but she guessed it was either a fruit, a euphemism for something dirty, or both. She shoved the question to the back of her mind as inconsequential and managed to snatch another fragment of memory from the hurricane in her head. Another of Auntie Lucretia's...

"The first rule of the Game is that you must never let anyone - opponents, allies, or spectators - get an accurate appraisal of your strengths and weaknesses. Even the ones who aren't trying to stab you in the back will do it by accident sooner or later, and the less they know the better. Seem strong when you are not, ignorant when you are not... never lie and never stop bluffing. Show your enemies what they expect only while you do the unexpected. Shroud everything else in enigma."

Lucretia had told her of a lot of rules, and they were all the First Rule. But they were all important, too, and whatever Miriam had once thought of the woman - lost to her now - she could respect the advice that had been drilled into her so deeply that not even the event that had claimed the rest of her past had taken it. And she was doing her best to live that advice in any number of ways. Such as parking the ship here at Port Wander, despite everyone's discomfort with the Potentially Rogue Nova Cannon - "If you need to do something unpopular, don't explain your reasons up front. Let the people speculate. Listen to them as they speculate. If they come up with an idea you like - one that satisfies them - wink and inform them that they finally guessed it." Such as asking her crew to explain even basic things about the Imperium that she did remember, under the guise of an amnesia that wasn't quite as total as she was pretending. That one hadn't come from Lucretia, but she was using it as a litmus test for who would lie to her habitually, who was just plain uninformed, and who would tell her the truth on principle.

Such as now.

She swished a glass partly full of some sort of amber liquor - she once could probably have identified it by smell alone, but that was lost until she could memorize it again the hard way - and slouched back in a chair that had clearly been built for a large man who just as clearly had felt himself important. Of course, she was important too, but that felt like a highly subjective and variable resource. In the meantime, she had duties to perform and questions to answer.

"Strauss, work with the good spymaster to see what's become of our agent. Depending on what you find, I trust you to handle the matter appropriately. Take Adept Coretta with you in case you need technical assistance in unearthing information. Your other task is to see to her safety." Miriam got up and finished off her drink. "Someone fetch our pretty navigator from his coffin. He and I are going to wander into port ourselves."

[TheDarkDM]

"Did someone mention a pretty navigator?"

Adonais sauntered into the briefing room with a wry smile on his face, a glass of surprisingly fine Calixian port in hand. His pure black eyes swept over the assembled officers of his ship before he slouched into an open seat.

"A walk around the station while our good Arch-Militant and Explorator discover the wondrous smells of Port Wander's underworld? That sounds delightful, Captain."

[The Blue Guard]

Explorator Coretta

Explorator Coretta twitched as she heard Adonais' voice — his mutations and excess made him unpopular with the religious tech-priest.

[Astro_sol]

Krieger

The resident Arch-Militant, meanwhile, held no such reservations. Adonais had proved his worth in a highly-classified op on a Warp-tainted cruiser, and it would take more than black eyes to daunt the man who had used to work for the Inquisition putting down heretics and daemon-spawn. However, there was only the slightest bit of guilt that the Navigator would enjoy protecting the Captain and perusing what the port had to offer, while he had to go with a Tech-priest he barely knew (and, thus, barely trusted). Still, he trusted Adonais, as well as the man's weird third-eye thing that could flay people alive.

"Well, I don't know if we'll be traipsing through the Underworld," Strauss replied. If they were, he was definitely bringing grenades. "....Are we, Spymaster?"

[Aneurin]

The spymaster shoots Coretta a withering look. Which is undoubtedly less than effective, since he's a rather small, fussy man. Mousy in both hair and demeanour, Corvin Trackart does not look like a serious spy - if anything, he looks remarkably like someone trying very hard to not look like a spy at all. And failing.

In the spy world, he is wearing the Trenchcoat of Incongruity and the Dark Sunglasses of Incompetence. Which is just how he likes it, the more the underestimate you the easier it is to work.

"His job, I would imagine. Gathering information for the dynasty and hampering the efforts of our rivals," Trackart shrugs slightly. "He is a low level operative, and I have no notion of what he might have been doing specifically. All I know is that he had a meeting scheduled at a particular tavern in one of the better parts of the Port. That would have been yesterday, and his missed check-in was an hour ago. I can also give you the location of his safe-houses if you wish, though I have already ascertained he has not used them,"

[Astro_sol]

Krieger

Krieger nodded. "Right. You'll lead us there, then. Pardon me while I grab some ammo. I've got a backpack and some explosives in my cabin for just such an occasion. Meet just outside the ship in five minutes." It was a good thing he'd made that shopping trip earlier, he had a deal with the ship's armorer to stock his room with a belt of grenades every so often. And a backpack of ammo meant no time wasting to reload, but he'd still carry a few extra reloads on his bandolier. Just in case.

[The Blue Guard]

Explorator Coretta

With a perfunctory bow to the assembled men, women, and other assorted humans Coretta followed the First Officer — her report on the ready status of the ship having already been given.

"Have you ever thought about accepting the divine glory of the machine into your flesh," Coretta asked, trying to make small talk. "I grew up aboard an Explorator Fleet void ship, but I only received my first such gift after I had become a tech-acolyte." She paused briefly as if relieving the momentous day. "I had before been content to serve as a menial aboard the great void ship of my birth."

[Astro_sol]

Krieger

Strauss began to trace his way to his quarters, which wasn't too far from the meeting room, since all of the important places he visited tended to be in the upper decks of the ship anyway. He realized he knew next to nothing about the lady techpriest; was she a spy, perhaps? Why had the Captain hired her? But the Captain had hired her, and that lent the woman a modicum of trust. She had yet to prove herself in battle with him, like Adonais and the Captain had.

"Not sure how divine it is, but I've had some work done. My heart got damaged during an op a decade or so ago, had to have it replaced. And I recently had some work done on my bones," he said, emphasizing the word by producing a large clang as he slammed a fist onto the deck's wall. "I'll probably get some more reinforcements in the future, but for now I need to be combat-ready. I'd wait until we're at a Forge World with some proper facilities for anything else. I'd rather not have some random nut in Port install something that could kill me if the surgery got botched, and even if it worked out, I'm sure the good Captain wouldn't want me bedridden." He turned to glance at the techpriest. "What all've you had done? Never really known what techpriests have done. You certainly look more people-y than most I've seen."

[The Blue Guard]

Explorator Coretta

Coretta inclined her head, shadowing her features. "I am young," she answered. "I have served the Machine God for only two decades as one of his priests. I have been given many gifts, though," she was quick to add. "My mind is enhanced, my body repaired, and I am given the gift of direct communion with machine spirits through the beneficence of the Omnissiah."

"I served Magos-Biologis Antoninius before I felt the calling of the Quest for Knowledge. If you wish, I am capable of granting you the holy gifts of the Omnissiah myself. I may also check to see that those which you already carry are not tainted or corrupted."

[Astro_sol]

Krieger

Strauss motioned his hand in a dismissing manner. "I..." had the work done by a friend of a friend back when he had been an Inquisitor's lackey. Which was something she didn't need to know. "I had the work done by someone I trust. I appreciate the offer, but you're right, you're still young. Maybe someday, though." He looked her up and down. "So what did you need to repair? You don't look broken to me."

[The Blue Guard]

Explorator Coretta

It wasn't the first time Coretta had been discriminated against due to her youth, but she had hoped that — as an Explorator — she'd be judged on results rather than on her youth. "I had meant that the gifts of the Omnissiah repairs my flesh it when it becomes damaged, not that I was damaged and required repair." It was at this point that Coretta's servo-skull decided to return from whatever task she had set for it. Quietly, it signaled the completion to Coretta in the secret language of the tech-priests, and it then hovered dutifully beside her. "Also, I may be young, but my knowledge is extensive. I would not be here if it wasn't."

[Astro_sol]

Krieger

Strauss sighed as he reached his quarters, quickly stepping inside to load up his boltgun to the backpack ammo strap, along with grabbing his bandoliers of ammo and grenades. Once again, he'd let his mouth speak before his brain intervened, and he'd been misunderstood. "I didn't really mean that. I know what I said...I just don't know you. Hopefully, that'll change." He pulled back the slide on his gun with a satisfying clack. "Whatever the case is, though, I'll watch your back."

[The Blue Guard]

Explorator Coretta

"I am quite capable of defending myself," Coretta replied, slipping an arm into her robe — revealing the carapace armour she wore beneath — and pulled a power axe from her back. Quietly, she showed him the axe before putting it back. "And you," she adds. "The Machine God protects me, too. Of course."

[Aneurin]

Adonais and Miriam

As the Magos and Militant take their leave, Miriam and Adonais are left in the baord room facing a ring of senior officers who are exchanging worried looks, and wondering if they, too, should be leaving.

Trackart takes a moment to thumb his microbead and murmer some instructions, before looking up at the captain.

"Is there anything else you wish of us, milady?" he asks, with an expansive gesture that encompasses the bridge officers.

Coretta and Kreiger

The Zero Sum Game's berth is a cavernous structure, immense and ancient and partially exposed to the void. And still the Game barely fits.

Teams of voidsmen swarm over the hull, patching, mending, pantining and any of the myriad tasks that are undertaken whenever the ship is at rest. She is anchored by vast clamps and connected to the rest of Port Wander by the umbilicals, stretching from the airlocks to the docks through which all physical traffic is conducted. It is at the maw of one of these umbilicals that Corretta and Kreiger stand, with one of Trackart's many agents waiting attentively at their side - the spymaster himself had been unavoidably detained, and sent a lesser minion in his place with his apologies and the information that had been requested.

Around them Naval Security enforceres haul tractors full of drunken and hungover crew back to the tender mercies of the petty officers of the Game, and call for seemingly random inspections of cargo being loaded or unloaded. A handful of heavily armed Arbites squads are also in evidence, lurking at the edges of the bay, keeping a wary eye on the milling crew for the first sign of trouble. Crew shout incomprehensible gibberish at one another, adding to the cacophany of heavy machinery, official inspectors, ill-maintained servitors and all the hangers-on and general dock scum who have turned up to gawp, extract money from the crew, or steal anything that seems to have been overlooked.

The Tech-Priest and the Militant have their guide, the name of the tavern - The Guilded Duke - and the location of the missing agent's residence, and his safe houses. The next move is theirs.

[Astro_sol]

Krieger

The Arch-militant was dressed for war, with his boltgun attached at his side, ready for a quick draw in case things went South. He wasn't necessarily an investigator, but in his mind there was really only one place to go.

"Take us to the Duke. Unless our Enginseer has a different idea?"

Not that he necessarily cared what she had to think. As he understood, their ranks were just about equal, just applied a bit differently. She had authority over the ship's systems, while his was a bit more generalized. It was nice, being a First Officer, but he really just felt like a glorified bodyguard.

[The Blue Guard]

Explorator Coretta

Dressed in the traditional robes of a tech-priest, Coretta was still hiding the power axe and the carapace armour beneath them — the inside pockets of her robe and sleeves were filled with little pockets, too.

"The adage 'hope for the best, prepare for the worst' seems to apply here. Should we not check his safe houses, sensitive information relevant to our investigation may be stored in such places."

[Astro_sol]

Krieger

Krieger nodded. "Certainly, but the worst is that he was caught in some sort of trap. I want to spring it, if possible. The safe houses could wait until afterwards, if we miss anything at the Duke. Last time, our agent was alone. This time, he has a techpriest with a poweraxe and a few thousand thrones' worth of bolts to deal with." He patted the boltgun at his side in emphasis.

[The Blue Guard]

Explorator Coretta

The tech-priest shrugged. "I would rather not enter a situation such as that without all the information available." Briefly, she turned to the servo-skull and emitted a brief burst of tones and static. The serve-skull replied with more tones and static. "Having said that, this is not an area I have a great deal of experience in. You may lead on."

[Jade_Tarem]

Miriam

"Yes indeed! I would like for you to keep the ship as close to ready for departure as possible without making routine maintenance infeasible. I would also like for you to grant leave to all crew members not required for that task, and to make it known to said crew members that the Game may depart on short notice and to come up with a way to maximize the number that can return to us in that time frame. The officer who comes up with the cleverest way to pull that off will receive a raise." It was an odd set of instructions, to be sure, but Miriam wanted to have her cake and eat it too, and was betting that she could if her officers put their minds to it. She had no idea if anyone would be fooled, but she half-knew, half-had-been-told, that her dynasty was under attack and she had to consider herself and her ship to still be a target, regardless of the fact that she'd been captured instead of killed. If even a single enemy was caught off guard by the speed of the Game's response, it would be worth it.

"Once you have that worked out, you are dismissed to carry out your orders or visit the port, as the plan demands." She turned to her navigator. The black eyes didn't bother her - she'd seen them before... somewhere. That memory eluded her grasp, but she catalogued it regardless. "Shall we?"

[TheDarkDM]

Adonais

Adonais only just managed to keep from frowning at the officers' faces as the Captain gave her rambling, contradictory orders. He understood the plight of the common officer all too well, but it was hardly professional to express dismay in the presence of a superior officer. He'd long since repressed the wave of bitterness he'd felt when he first learned of Miriam's...condition, and so rose with a smile at her offer.

"Of course, Captain. Though, might I suggest assigning some armsmen to accompany us? It would be beneath your station to travel with but one attendant."

[Aneurin]

Adonais and Miriam

Perparations are swiftly made for the party's departure - it would simply not do for one of the Navis, or the Most Glorious Ranasia to travel without escort - and the senior officers gratefully flee to their ship-board lairs to prepare for departure. Hurry-up teams are despatched to round up stray crewmen and incautious bystanders, but it will still be a number of hours before all is in readiness for departure.

The Lord-Trader Ranasia and Lord-Navis Benetek are soon stood before one of the mighty umbilicals that connect the ship to Port Wander, in the center of a bubble of calm and quiet in the bustle of the docks. After all, no-one wants to jostle a Rogue Trader and her retinue.

So, uh, yeah. What do you want to do?

And feel free to describe any thugs, flunkeys and lackeys you may have brought with you.

Coretta and Strauss

As the Tech-Priest and Militant depart the Zero's berth, they find themselves under the silent scrutiny of the Arbites. The black, blank faceplates exude an aura of silent menace and warning - and, despite showing no expression whatsoever, somehow convey the very essence of glaring. There's a general tightening of grips on shock-mauls and sidearms.

And then they're out of sight, blocked by the airlock doors, and the wonder of Port Wander opens up before the interpid explorers and their guide. It is, in a word, underwhelming. In another word it is overwhelming. It is, undoubtedly, a wretched hive of scum and villainy, but by the Emperor it's big - and busy. Crowds throng the streets, hawkers hawk, beggars beg and people hold conversations at the tops of their voices or, possibly, are just screaming at one another. It's quite hard to tell.

The sound and the smell are almost entities in their own right. Immense, implacable, and all pervasive.

The Explorers make, by dint of much pushing and shouting, reasonable progress and force their way through the thronging streets, and detour around the unmoveable mass of a market. When they clear the next set of airlocks, the noise drops to something a little more reasonable - it's now possible to hear one another from more than a few feet away - and even the beggars seem better dressed. Within a few streets, the Gilded Duke looms large - the gleaming head of the eponymous Duke dangling from a board over the entrance.

The street itself seems to sit in a pocket of relative quiet, as the buildings shut out and distort much of the sound from other areas. The Duke is doing brisk business, to judge by the number of patrons streaming in and out.

[Astro_sol]

Krieger

Strauss shrugged his shoulders, letting out a few audible cracks. He was usually quite good at sneaking in and out of places unnoticed, but he wouldn't bother this time, not when he was packing enough explosives to level half the block. It would be better to light a beacon here, to distract from his Captain elsewhere in the port. Plus, it would be better to become to the target himself instead of his not-so-tough spy (who he hadn't yet bothered learning the name of; it simply didn't occur to someone so used to traveling alone) and his probably-capable-but-needed-for-information-of-a-more-subtle-type techpriest.

"You guys come in a little bit after me, as if we're not together or anything," he said. Before either of them could protest, he strolled into the Duke, his Bolter strewn across his chest and a pict of the missing man in his hand.

"Any of you boys and girls seen this man?" he bellowed, letting his voice carry over the ambient noise.

[The Blue Guard]

Explorator Coretta

As Strauss worked away, a brief burst of techna-lingua static whispered from Coretta. Gently, her servo-skull responded with its own burst and then followed Strauss in.

A minute after, Coretta went in, using her link with her servo-skull to keep watch over Strauss while appearing not to care what he was doing.

[Jade_Tarem]

Miriam

With Port Wander stretched out before her, Miriam took a moment to realize that not everything about her amnesia was bad. For instance - she could experience wonder again.

It was a sight to behold, the Star City. From the teeming mass of humanity to the machinery and the spirits that tied it all together, a bubble of chaotic life defiantly planted amid a hostile universe, presumably protected by the Emperor.

And all of it would happily consume her, given the chance.

That was why she had a retinue, of course. She might be brain damaged, but she wasn't that crazy. She had her reality warping navigator with her, not to mention that she'd chosen the rest of her away team based solely on how tough and nasty they looked. She wanted to be seen and to be seen as up to something, and she didn't particularly care what. If her enemies weren't looking, then fine, she'd depart Port Wander in peace on her quest for fortune and fame. If they were, she wanted them not to watch Krieger and Coretta while they investigated, and to waste time trying to figure out her lack of a plan.

"Well, Lord-Navis, this is admittedly a new experience for me. Where would you recommend I go to learn about Port Wander and the Expanse?"

[Aneurin]

Coretta and Krieger

As Coretta enters in Strauss' wake, she finds quite the sight before her. Every one of the two-dozen customers is staring at the heavily armed Arch-Militant, and half of them have their hands on side-arms and sharp-things. Behind her, their agent escort does their best to stay out of the line of sight.

Things haven't gone entirely south yet, but there's definitely an air to the room that suggests violence is very definitely an option.

Just about the only person who isn't part of the frozen tableau is the barman, who is industriously wiping down the bar with a damp cloth. He's a large man, and heavily - though tastefully - augmented. Very few tubes, and most of the bionics are reasonable facsimilies of their originals, albiet plated in brass. On the wall behind him is a golden torso. After a moment or two for things to click into place, it also becomes apparent that two ceiling fans high above the room are hung from golden hands.

The barman continues his wiping for a moment or two more, before he gives Strauss an unimpressed look.

"Put it away, boy. I don't want my place getting shot up because someone got nervous. Gold will get you further than guns in this world, every time," he says. His voice buzzes slightly, and has the faint, yet distinct, edge that suggests it hasn't come from organic lungs. "If you have questions, you're welcome to ask them. But put that piece down first if you want civil answers,"

Miriam and Adonais

As the pair ponder for a moment on the options before them, a few possibilities come to mind for their little jaunt. There are likely any number of Rogue Traders in port who would be delighted to accomodate a visit from the illustrious scion of House Ranasia - or at least wouldn't say no to her face - and, should that not appeal, then a meeting between Benetek navis that might be in port should be a simple affair to arrange.

Otherwise, there are the classic approaches to information gathering, including a visit to an Administratum Archive, or a Librarium. While Port Wander is not particularly renowned for its scholarly undertakings and erudition, it has managed to accrue a great number of tomes and data-slates purchased from travellers returning from the Expanse, and the Administratum - backed by the Navy - does insist on visitors filing their paperwork. And, of course, there's always the Navy offices - while technically holding no true authority in the Expanse, as a matter of prudence the Navy does mount patrols on the far side of the Maw.

An Easy (+30) Inquiry test to find which Rogue Traders are openly in the Port right now. If you want to bother the Navy, you'll likely have to bribe someone before they tell you anything you might actually want to know. The Administratum might require a bribe or two as well, but the rates won't be as steep - then again, they'll only let you loose in their data stacks rather than actually telling you anything.

This list is hardly exhaustive, so if you can think of something else to do just let me know.

[TheDarkDM]

Adonais

Taking in the frontier grandeur of Port Wander, Adonais pondered his captain's question. Inspiration came to him quickly, and clearly, when he snapped his fingers and directed them towards the naval base.

"Well, Captain, if my uncle Braccio had it right the naval officer's club has an impressive selection of libations from across the sector. And with any luck, we'll find some drinking partners willing to share some information on the Expanse."

[Astro_sol]

Strauss

Krieger blinked several times before looking down. Surely they didn't think he was about to shoot someone? After all, the gun wasn't in his hands. Yet. But he couldn't blame them for their caution. He took the bolter and attached it to the magnetic clips on his backpack, but he wasn't about to put it down. Danger could come at any moment.

"I'm sorry for stirring up the bar." He walked over to the bar and pulled out several thrones, while keeping the pict in his other hand. "Very well. I'll pay handsomely for anyone who has any clues on the whereabouts of this man. Also, I'll take something to drink." He started counting out more thrones to put onto the counter.

[Jade_Tarem]

Miriam

The Lord-Captain considered for what was probably a moment, but felt like weeks. "The Naval Officer's club sounds fantastic. Let's take the scenic route there, though, unless we're pressed for time."

[Aneurin]

Adonais and Miriam

The long way is, indeed, long since the officers' club is sited in the station's second circle, close to the hub where the business and maintenance of the station is carried out.

The trip takes... quite some time, really. Alternately forcing through the crowds, riding the over-crowded trains and generally soaking up the atmosphere of a station that's about as alive as yogurt on a hot day. The air has the distinctive taste and texture of something that has been breathed by millions of people for hundreds of years, and doesn't get refreshed all that often and the heat and noise are simply oppressive.

The journey is also peppered with interesting characters; from the rather heavily armed group with sleek black-and-gold lacquered armour and white masks who nearly trample Adonais and Miriam as they left the Game's berth, half a hundred merchants all trying to sell dirty post cards for twice the price they fetch on Scintilla, to a determined looking fop relying on the gangly green kroot to force his way through a market. All are dealt with, by verbal abuse, light thrashings and in one case being thrown off a train by the conductor so the noble Rogue Trader and distinguished Lord Navis could have a seat apart from the common oiks.

By the time Adonais and Miriam finally arrive at the officers' club, the station lights are being cycled down to a sort of twilight as Port Wander prepares to undergo its 'night' phase, in accordance with a 25 hour Terran day. On the plus side, it does mean there'll be more officers in there getting quietly drunk.

The club itself is a grand affair; cavernous ceilings, a tasteful skull motif on the arches, twinkling brass-and-clertstone chandaliers hang majestically overhead and a small, band plays away to itself in the corner. Behind the enormous bar, staffed by a full dozen multi-armed servitors, is an entire wall covered in exotic looking bottles, with strange sounding names. Several appear to have small creatures floating inside, for some obscure reason.

Along the bar, and scattered across the tables are a selection of naval officers in crisp dress uniform drinking like there's no tomorrow - and probably hoping there won't be.

Unfortunately, all of that is inside. On the outside, a space occupied by Miriam and Adonais, is a velvet rope and more importantly the doorman.

The doorman is almost eight feet tall, and about five feet across at the shoulders - and all of it is muscle. He appears to be an ogryn, one of the enormous, brutish abhuman races that evolved during the Dark Age of Technology on high gravity worlds - they have an almost child-like adoration of the Emperor, and are loyal if stupid servants of the Imperium, and seem to have little trouble with their status as third class citizens who barely rate above the deplorable mutants.

This one has a black suit, and earpiece and a naval shotcannon. His squashed-in, ugly face glares down at the interlopers who are not on the list.

"Go," he says, after some thought and in a thick, heavy voice. "Away,"

Coretta and Krieger

The barman glances, briefly, at the picture, as the assembled occupants of the bar relax their grips on their weapons and turn back to their drinks, muttering darkly.

"Sorry," the barman says, going back to polishing glasses. "Haven't seen them. Whoever they are. I'd lose more in business than you could ever pay me if I went around seeing people who don't want to be seen. If you buy something, you're welcome to ask around though," he adds, after a moment. "Just try not to start more trouble or break anything,"

If you want to start canvassing the room, give me a Challenging (+0) Inquiry test, please.

If you want to try something else, or keep talking to the barman then don't give me a Challenging (+0) Inquiry test.

[TheDarkDM]

Adonais

The Navigator seemed unfazed by the towering ogryn, as he simply smiled at the creature's command. Reaching into an inner pocket of his robe, he pulled out his naval commission rosette and held it for the guard to examine.

"Commander Adonais de Benetek, late of Battlefleet Solar. I am newly arrived in Port Wander, and would share some war stories with my fellow officers. Now."

Adonais' voice hardened at the last, taking on the militant rigidity with which he had once been required to speak.

[Aneurin]

Adonais and Miriam

The ugly brute of a doorgryn screws up its eyes with the effort of thought as it glowers at the rosette. It peers at it in silence for a long, long moment, then draws out a small box that it waves at the rosette. Then it squints at the box. The line behind the heroic pair seems a trifle impatient at this latest development, but the odd snigger can be heard as the uniformed ogryn goes through the motions.

Whatever it sees there, however, seems to pass muster, as it jerks one massive thumb towards the door and grunts. And, just like that, Lord-Navis Benetek and Lord-Trader Ranesia are admitted to the glittering, smoke-filled world of the Calixian Officer's Club.

As they cross the threshold, the band strikes up a tune (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmCnQDUSO4I), and from all around the room pairs of men and women begin to congregate on the dance floor on the far side of the room.