The Raven's Tomb IC

[Checkmate-Pony]

It will seem strange at first but Warp Travel can do that to you, I apologize for the wait and the sudden short coming of players but let us try to keep this afloat and we can reel it back into a great game, I know we can.

I also want to mention that the Ship is also a character and you are all allowed to use the ships crew as your own little PCs if need be, to act as your servants and to set specific scenes you wish to have, within reason of-course, and I can overrule it but that being said it is something I appreciate when the players help the ship come alive, you can describe what the rooms look like, how the bridge is decorated and such if you please, this is your home after all and inside it you are almost as much a GM as I, and never be afraid to ask me about what is happening in OOC, all this space intrigue can get complicated

Aboard the Transport Trelleborg:
"Ship exiting from warp, it flared nearby, no energy signature or mass detected" It chimed from the tense ship crew of the Trelleborg. Their breaths visible in the cold, the thralls toild away at the cogitators as the paranoia flowed from every member of the bridge crew. The Captain of Trellebord, the Giant of Udgaard painfully putting his face into his hands in dread
"Remain calm and maintain course for the cave" Said the Giant. "Increase speed, Amber alert" he rumbled low.

------

It's often questioned that if something is never heard, does it even produce a sound, the same could be said about conscious, for if nothing is felt, seen or heard, how is one even alive?
The question is quickly forgotten as a sharp shaft of light hits the Magos eyes
A voice calls out like a descending god

"oh! forgive me my lord"

Before Selas Deethe stood a man, he was hard to see, he held a flashlight in his paws, you are not sure why you'd call his hands that.

He'd been flashing it around the bridge pondering his existence in the darkness, and others joined him with their own beams

"It's a black out" he called it, the brigde crew of the ship was in darkness, the power had exhausted during warp transit.

The man flashed up at himself to reveal himself "Magos I think we're finally out, we're finally free from the accursed sea of souls" he yammered
The entire bridge crew was staring at the Explorator "Sire do you not remember me?" the man with the paws asked again. Soon, next to him appeared a medicae that began forcefully opening the Selas eye and shine another probe of light into it proclaiming "The Magos mind seems to have gone astray"

"My lord" the medicae began "We have just exited warp, and you might experience some confusion, perhapse loss of memory sire, this is perfectly 'possible', please just remain calm and try to remember, we need you now"

The man with the paws was Jack, that Selas Deethe knew somehow, he had a carapace helmet fashioned like that of a rabbit, although he didn't wear it on his head currently, a shotgun by his side, some kind of ship enforcer.

With a sudden flash it all became red as the emergency lights activated and some semblance of power and order returned,

Around him was also the rest of the retinue, the Navigator Sage Vsal Stormeye and the two lovely lady officers: Rosa Veche and Karina Zarga bathed in red light.

Jack looked around: "I think power is coming back to us, but we need your orders Magos, The Captain cannot, you must in his stead, you know the limits of the ship"

A member of the bridge Crew turned his head to chime in, his head fused to his command console with cybernetics and cables: "The Sensors array have picked up something, three mass signatures, one a transport, the other... judging from mass and speed it must be an installation, such as a station. The 3rd I cannot determined"

The forward Occulus magnified ahead into the void and Selas Deethe saw the vague shape of a ship towing a vast black mass behind it.
"It appears to be heading towards the installation, Magos" said the Master of Sensory.

The ship has entered an unknown system, it is currently in silent running having exited the Warp. In the System, a Transportship known as the Trelleborg is towing a UFO towards a space installation in orbit around a barren and lifeless planet, be aware however, the Trelleborg knows you have arrived but only just that, your size and class and threat, even motives are unknown to them as of yet. How this is approached is at your discretion

[Checkmate-Pony]

A deck officer rushed in "He's alive! he's alive! The captain is waking up"

Captain Sarvus Torain was being carried in on a gurney by medicae staff. The Master of Medicae let go of the magos and hurried over "Thank the Emperor" he mumbled.

"Captain we thought we had lost you, you appeared completely brain dead upon entry into real space, slumped into your throne" The Staff helped the captain up and almost forced him to his feet, trying to fill him in with what was going on, looking to him to make the right choice.

The Captain and his closest retinue now found themselves in the red light of the bridge, the eyes of the crew upon them.

[LairdMaon]

You know what they say, any crash you can walk away from...

Sage Vsal takes stock of their situation with a glance around the bridge. The disarray is bad, but it could have been MUCH worse. And it looks like his Throne of Navigation came through just fine!

Can I get some numbers on casualties?"

[Checkmate-Pony]

The Bridge crew hurried back to their posts, like rats scurrying into their hiding spots.

There was a long pause as they worked flashing through notifications on their cogitators. Those who was not authorized for such information waited expectantly.

"There appears to be no casualties master Navigator, no reports other than the usual dozen cases attributed to a troubled warp travel" said one of the operators. The Medicae officer walked over to look over his shoulder.

Despite such good news, the truth of the matter was that many aboard the ship suffered from memory loss, including most of captain's retinue, but such unpleasant realizations was kept silent. It was the most odd things that slipped ones memory, questions such as the ships own name.... What was it again? How could that slip ones mind? And how long have you all known jack? Could Jack even remember anything?

[Col.Straken]

Sarvus sat up uneasily before being helped into the Throne. "I can only assume my backup systems kicked in before complete brain death started" he looked around, small bits of memory returning. Sarvus, he was the Captain, at least thats what he remembers and this must be his ship. "Thank you medicae. We need power back, and who do those frakking ships belong to?" He said pointing to the Occulus.

"I want comms and augurs back online, I want specs and idents so we know what we are facing. And someone get the damn void shields working." he shouted as he tried to stand quickly falling back into the Throne as his exhausted body struggled to get the oxygen flowing again.

[Retias]

The Magos' artificial eyes, emitting a low, blue light flickered once, twice, seeming to focus on the face of Jack in front of him. "Calmness in the face of alarm." The tech priest rumbled in a metallic tone, servos whirring as he worked on getting to his feet. It took a moment or two, a dull ache within those parts of him not metal reminders of the weakness of flesh. "We are free from the maelstrom. Other threats are of lesser concern." He canted his head, fingers going to the metal plate covering his skull.

"I am.. missing data. I will attempt to restore from secondary memory nodes." The tech priest let his internal systems work on retrieving what they could as he stepped towards the nearest command console, reaching to his neck to pull the thin cable of his Mind Impulse Unit free. "Complying, Captain Sarvus Trask. I will tend the machine spirit and its wounds, and guide it in the restoration of our shields.

Alert. One vessel identified, Imperial designation. The space station.. insufficient data available to identity. Recommendation. Maintain silent running and approach for closer ranged augur scans.

Warning. Silent Running is engaged, but our Warp exit would have been witnessed. Advise listening for any broad spectrum communication attempts."



Selas will work on using his Total Recall talent to piece together what he can, and will MIU with the ship to try and restore more of its systems.

[Checkmate-Pony]

The Magos interfaced with the ship and receive streams of data as well as assuming binary communication with multiple other tech adepts and cyber seers throughout the ship also connected with MIUs. He recognizes many familiar 'faces' within the data stream.

He determines he can easily reactivate power flow to the entire ship. However, such as powering up the shields among other wholesome systems put their concealed position in danger of being compromised, and once that line was crossed, there was no turning back.

But where machines were found wanting, the power of the human mind took action: "That's a Carrack-Class Transport" Said Jack, looking at the occulus "I recognize that piece of crap anywhere"

"Looks like it's towing something, could be a block of ore or ice, can't tell. That installation on the other hand, all those piers and annexes; it must be a wayfare station, commercial docking area, used for resupply in uncharted space, for a price"

[qechua]

Watching the unfolding situation, Rosa allowed herself a small smile, knowing that the crews below her feet were working diligently to secure the ship from transit and prepare her for what may come next. Whatever parts of her mind were temporarily missing, she knew what her job was, and she knew how well she could do it.

She lifted her left arm to the back of her skull, and keyed in a series of commands, a code to check both the Memorance Implant and the precious data within for faults, the results would take some time. In the meanwhile, the small matter of their mystery scenario needed addressing.

"A Carrick, a station, a...thing and us, all in the same place at the same time? This can't be coincidence, I'd say we're either here to talk to them or kill them. Given we don't know which, I'd suggest we start pursuing the former, while preparing for the latter."

She quickly scanned the bridge for someone resembling the Master at Arms. While powering main weapons would telegraph their intent, issuing personal arms to the crew wouldn't.

[Retias]

The tech priest considers a moment. "Warning, shields will risk our location. Please confirm order to raise." He reaches out to connect to the augur array, attempting to scan and identify the ship's cargo.

[Col.Straken]

Sarvus rubbed his temples, this was not how he wanted to wake up. Why couldn't Warp travel just be a simple thing. "Hold raising shields, keep them readyto cycle up. Lets see if we can get these guys to identify their position." he looked around to the coms station, "Comms, send out a distress signal to the ship, encrypt our ident code. I want them to think we have been damaged after unexpected Warp Drop out. Magos, do a diagnostic on the shields and weapons I want them to be ready for power up at a moments notice. Engines, propel us forward on silent running, once we have their attention I want to fire them in bursts lets looks like a limping animal."

He sat back and watched the Occulus intently, waiting for the time to strike if they were an enemy.

[Checkmate-Pony]

everyone froze as they listened, some looking at each other questioning internally the captains motives but showed no more hesitation than that. The comms operator japped in some prongs and flipped a few switches "Link On" He pronounced as a boom mic protruded to the captains head and a link was established, a Servo Skull dangling from the ceiling, descended; getting ready to film and stream a video feed of the captain if need be.

The rest of the bridge crew worked their consoles, an almost musical orchestra of ticks and swoops of buttons and dials being pressed and adjusted.

Orders broadcasted to engine crew, gun-decks loading the breach and stand by, the shields, most delicate of operations to slowly power up on a near intangible level.

"SOS send, sire, engines warming up"

The other players can have their objections if they are quick about it, but otherwise we need someone to make the scan test or the pilot test mentioned earlier, if not a player then the crew rating of 30

---------------------------
Aboard the Trelleborg:

"We're receiving a distress signal, sire, a call for help" said a female thrall "Identification Codes, A Goliath Class Factory ship, belonging to captain Sarvus Torain, of House Torian: Rogue Trader"

"Sire, I still can't pinpoint it's exact location, but the warp pulse from before is within scanning range, primary Sphere, it must be nearby"

The Giant of Trelleborg looked up from the supporting fist on his cheek "Torain... Never heard of him..." he rumbled. The giant considered the news, a distress call, from a ship that have just entered from warp, it is possible that warp travel damaged them so severely their ship is with minimum power, desperately calling for help.

"Power up the sensors array, I want the ship found, and scanned, we'll see how much damage it has sustained" the giant commanded

"Hail the Shoemaker, I want to speak with him" the giant added, hailing the wayfarer station.

----------------------------
Back on the "Goliath ship"

"power spike on their augers... they are looking for us" the master of sensory said in a dire tone

[Retias]

"They will fail." Selas stated firmly, his confidence in the vessel clear. "Complying, preparing to activate weapons and shields on command." He tapped into the augur array, attempting a scan of their target.

[qechua]

Orders issues, Rosa's navy background kicks in and, moving over to the main helm station.

"Ensign, I'll take the maneuver, call my power reads as we go."

Settling down into the chair, she feels glad she took time to familiarise herself with the ship.

[roll0] vs 58 (53 (Pilot skill) - 20 (maneuverability) + 15 (Empyrean Mantle) + 10 (difficulty))

Rosa's hands ran across the consoles as the stream of number continued to be read out. No panic could be detected in either crew member as the maneuver was executed

"Lord Captain, we're limping as requested. If they see through this, they've got sensors better than the Emperor's flagship itself."

[Checkmate-Pony]

For the next dozen hours, the Goliath (you need to name this thing soon, it's getting difficult to avoid talking about this fact when I write :smallbiggrin:)

The Goliath maintains it's silent running towards the Trelleborg. At this point the Trelleborg is very close to the station, and it won't be long before you yourselves are within threat range regardless of it's armaments.

When reaching within 20 VUs of either, the ship is in danger of being exposed, but none of the two (Station and Carrack Transport) make a move, the disguise must work.

Multiple times during the dastardly run, the Trelleborg sends out respond calls, attempting to hail. Messages repeating things such as: "This is Trelleborg come in, we cannot pinpoint your location, please respond.... if you have any means of guiding us towards you, please commence"

There would be several more such messages giving suggestions as to how to track them, such as fire weapons or astropathic calls. Even so, despite their helpfulness over vox, they seemed to take little action in searching for them or turning the ship around. It was clear, the haul he was Towing was more valuable to him than saving the lives of others. Or perhapse he sensed the danger looming closer.

-------

Now this close, visuals became more clear on the occulus: The Station became more visible, a decrepit and condemned thing, although massive; it was a husk of dark metal and rotting piers of dull light, it frankly had seen better days aeons ago and looked more appropriate in the hands of beggar scum than the Imperium of man.

The Carrack was prolific and in good condition it seemed, nothing of note. But the object it towed... That was puzzling, at first glance it was just a dark ice crystal the size of a cruiser. But spires protruded from it, and pyramids in a dark metal that blended with the ice in the cold void. Like the head of a spiked maul.

Randomly arranged geometric shapes of shimmering Osmium and Onyx. Although the term man-made was no applicable, such formations were not natural, it was crafted by an intellect and deviance of natures symmetry

It came close but you avoided detection, there is about 18 VU from you to the Trelleborg, and 15 VU from the Trelleborg to the Station. Both your ship and the Trelleborg Travel at the same speed of 1 VU, if you are to reveal yourself and gain enough speed to attack before entering the threat range of the station, it has to be soon.

[Retias]

"Defences analysed." Selas whirred, eyes dim as he continued to delve through the internal world of their great vessel. "Armament assessed. Two Mars pattern macrocannons, dorsal located weaponry. Single void shield array.

Running combat simulations.

Processing.

Evaluation complete. Their cargo is of great value, any attempt to intimidate them to surrender it will escalate until open combat begins. If that is your aim, Lord Captain, this unit recommends immediate engagement, before they have time to prepare or reach the station. With a surprise strike and our greater defensive capability and understanding of their weapon placement, I estimate a 73% chance of victory with minimal cost.

Warning. Value of cargo is unknown. Likely of Xenos origin. Heretical risk."

[qechua]

Half turning her head to keep her eyes on the console while still attempting to be respectful, Rosa added her piece, her tone of voice very much matter-of-fact rather than an impassioned plea. "We've got a ship clearly making a delivery in the middle of nowhere, but one that responded to our distress call. If they've tried to hide from us, they've done a really bad job, They didn't recognise us, but I would have thought if they'd been worried about being discovered, they'd have abandoned the meet. Either they don't consider us a threat for whatever reason, or our presence here isn't an inconvenience to them. In any case, I still think opening comms is the best idea."

"The fact that we have no idea what that cargo is doesn't help us. For all we know, if it gets hit with a stray macro, it'll explode, or worse."

[LairdMaon]

"We await your orders, Captain. Either choice is acceptable to me." The glimmer in Sage Vsal's eyes shows which decision he would actually prefer.

[megabyter5]

Not everyone aboard the ship was in such a rush. Cassius, in fact, was as calm as one could possibly be, considering the danger. It helps, perhaps, that his job was to meditate. More specifically, he was the ship's Astropath, and there was no sense letting himself get distracted and missing out on what may be an important message. Of course, he much preferred things to stay quiet, but he wasn't about to neglect his duty.

Based on the vox chatter, Cassius suspected that someone would want him to disrupt the other vessel's Astropathic communications. He wasn't sure if he could do that properly, even on a good day, which this was not. And, what's more, it was clearly still too far away for that. With luck, and patience, he thought he might be able to accomplish it, at most, about 30,000 kilometers (or perhaps that should be 30 megameters?) away. Even that wouldn't do, really. No, they'd need to be even closer for him to do anything. Close enough that they might want to send a boarding party. Cassius hoped the captain wasn't stupid enough to send his only Astropath on an away mission.

Not having much else to do, Cassius simply sat and meditated, waiting to receive any messages that might be directed towards the ship.

Testing Psyniscience 50 (40 per, trained, routine difficulty): [roll0]

...God-Emperor, he has no idea what he's doing.

[Col.Straken]

Sarvus nodded, there was no sense in just opening fire, they didn't seem to be imminently hostile. "Open comms." he waited momentarily as they established connection, gathering his thoughts. "This is Captain Sarvus, our engines were damaged during emergency Warp translation. We have slowly managed to restore power to necessary parts. Can you provide us with comm details to request docking at the station." he waited for a response hoping that they could meet the Captain on neutral ground of the station.

[Checkmate-Pony]

Hailing the Trelleborg, there was a response emediantly: "this is the captain I speak to? Captain Sarvus if you can hear me, you must reveal yourself, we have no way of spotting you, it is as if your location is blocked, are you within a dust could?"

The man speaking was the Trelleborg master of vox, bombarding with respectful questions. Although more than once he demanded Sarvus found a way to reveal his location.

"The station master will clear you for docking that I can promise you, but are you capable of reaching the station?"

[Leon]

Having been lost in thought for a while Karina rumbles in with Needs to see us does he, heh wants to get a hard lock and scan is what he really wants

[Retias]

The tech priest considers. "We will have to reveal ourselves to dock with the station, but I propose we wait until we're closer. I also propose opening communication with the station ourselves, to verify what the Trelleborg crew are telling us."

[LairdMaon]

Sage Vsal looks to Sarvus, "Captain, may I take a pilot out to take a closer look at the bulk being towed? Perhaps one from this vaunted bridge crew?"

[megabyter5]

His concentration thoroughly disrupted, Cassius decides to make his way to the bridge. If he couldn't focus on his job, he could at least make himself known and learn what, exactly, the captain is planning. He opens his eyes-- a meaningless gesture, as they had long since been rendered useless and blank-- stood up, and began walking the corridors of the ship. After a few short moments, he enters, and stands near the door, quietly listening to the discussion among the officers.

[Col.Straken]

Sarvus listened to his crew but the decision lay with him at the end of the day, "Hail the station, request docking permissions. Respond to the Trelleborg with the following, 'We have managed to restore power to the engines, all damage is internal. I request a meeting with the Captain when we both complete docking.' we are going to show ourselves, I see no threat at the moment." he sits back and waits for docking to be complete.

He sighs and turns to his advisors and senior crew, "Master Enginseer, please restore power to 50% keep those weapons ready to power up. Sage, I am afraid that a space flight would be a bad idea, I can't risk them shooting you out of the black out of fear."

[Retias]

"Acknowledged, Lord Captain." The Explorator intones, returning attention to the ship's systems. The bridge lights up in a manner repeated throughout the mighty vessel, systems whirring back to life as the command spreads. The ship's concealment fades and it becomes more then a ghost in the void, becoming solid to auspices once again.

[Checkmate-Pony]

"It's good to hear from you my lord" the Trelleborg replied politely "The Chief Gorm will gladly meet you inside"

It was a strangely abrupt reply, it had no further questions or vague accusations as they had done previously, perhaps there was nothing more to it than that, the deception had worked.

It would take a while for the Station to respond, but eerily the docking arms of it's piers opened up, silhouetted against the planet below, like an embracing spider.

The Trelleborg would reach the station first, carefully matching speed and docking. The xenos rock towing behind it slowly clutched closer to it and was moved to be hoisted to one of the docking arms and piers on the station in long laborious process, making it ready for excavation.

It was then the station made contact, as if it had lazily forgotten: Accompanied by a pic feed, the master of the station revealed himself, a hideous antiquarian, an old man with simple cloths looking as if he was struggling to work the equipment that allowed him to speak, what den of scum and low life the station must be.

http://i256.photobucket.com/albums/hh163/Makharn/Jacob%20skomager_zps4cv4o0mf.jpg (http://s256.photobucket.com/user/Makharn/media/Jacob%20skomager_zps4cv4o0mf.jpg.html)

"What's this at, who dares come this early in the morning" he laughed, meaning it well "My name is Jacob Shoemaker, and this is my tavern, my home. We jokingly call it the man cave, nicknames have a habit of sticking... you are welcome to stay" his voice incredibly gnarled and rough, but he did not seem slowed by his age, there was a creepy childish enthusiasm about him.

"Of course, on one condition, that you understand: Jacob Shoemaker does not give credit, otherwise you can come back when you're a little richer"
His tone was comically mischievous, as if he knew something you didn't, the kind that lures small children astray. But in the end that was perhaps just the nature of his lonely existence out in uncharted space, that of being a bit odd.


The Ship, having left silent running emerged and took in the embrace of the man cave. docking as it's new found Carrack companion did.
The two ships now being held opposed to each other in the scale like arms of the station dancing around the breath of the orange world beneath.
------------------------

Inside the station, the man cave. As the pressure hatch opens, the crew and the captains court are greeted by a shadow of a station crew. Long haired and filthy men with big ugly smiles stinking of alcohol, laughing and mocking them as they entered, a disgusting sight as they walked around in brown rags.

They looked more like drunken peasants than respectable workers. Despite this the man cave station crew would offer (rather pressingly) help at all times, asking if they needed help or food or supplies, even technician work. And every time they did, it was with an annoying mocking tone, as if they could bully you all around now that you were in such dire need of there help (which you fortunately are not)

"Is it possible!? A Captain of the stars, how else it going in the other world?" one would say taking his hat off in front of Sarvus, and as he did, all his companions would laugh as if that was the funniest thing they had ever heard. "Why didn't you stay longer?"

They would follow around like an annoying mob and generally get in the way of your own crew as they made the preparations and safety regulations of docking. But there was little to do about it, this was their home and the disrespect had to be indued for a while longer. Hopefully the captain of the Trelleborg was not this obscene.

Despite it, as Sarvus and court made they way into the station it became more quiet and calm. It was a barren and cold place of rusting pipes and dripping ceilings, scum encrusted metal coiling around like arteries inside a beast. Clashing with this sorry state of repair and decency was something admirable, all around them, the station was lit with candles, and every flat surface would feature pictures made with graffito paint, like ancient cave drawings but with all the imagination and color of someone who lived between the stars, depictions of men fighting monsters or giant gods toying with worlds in the palm of their hand. There was a unique cosyness to it, perhaps it's one redeeming factor so far.

It was not hard to find ones way, arrows were painted on every surface of the floor with bold text and more decorations, dangling lights and jars of luminous goo, various sports banners, chains of color, streamers and sculptures of welded metal, and from old pipes sat once in a while bards playing music in the gloom.

I'll give you a second to roleplay and describe what manner of entourage you bring to meet the captain of the Trelleborg

[Leon]

Captain i shall assemble a Detail of Ship Security as an escort and to ensure no untoward visits are made by locals

[megabyter5]

As the officers discuss leaving the ship, Cassius finally finds the time to speak up. "I trust you have a plan, Lord-Captain? I'm afraid I've not been made privy to our current goal."

[qechua]

Leaving the docking of the ship to it's usual pilot, Rosa joins the rest of bridge crew for the discussion.

"I'd presume whatever the plan is, it involves finding out why we're here and what we're doing. I think anything beyond that is somewhat secondary, although I wouldn't mind knowing exactly what these people are doing out here."

[Retias]

Selas nods once in agreement. "These individuals display an uniform nature that implies deceit and ulterior motives. The nature of this station is thus far unknown. Proposal. Approaching the Captain and crew of the Trellborg and identifying shared or differing traits may help reveal more information on the reasons behind this place and the manner of its inhabitants. Collating data from various sources will also help illuminate the larger picture. I request permission to seek out any data cores they may possess, to determine if they are of Imperial or Xenos construct." He looks to Rosa. "Simply asking is unlikely to reveal the truth, but their response may be useful to evaluate."

[Col.Straken]

Sarvus nodded curtly to the stations inhabitants once they had docked, trying to hide his scowl for their informality, "I am disappointed that the Captain of this station has not made arrangements to meet us." ensuring to leave strict instructions that none were to enter the Goliath.

As they walked through the station towards the Trelleborg he nodded to his courts council, "The initial plan is to find out where the frak we are. Second to find out what they do out here. Other than that, we will have to stay vigilant and work from there."

[Checkmate-Pony]

Soon they'd come upon a tiny door, very tiny, made from wood and with two sections so one could open to look without bidding anyone welcome.

The top half opened slightly, and the old man with the cap appeared, it was the shoemaker sticking his head out. He was shockingly small in person, just a tiny old man with a malevolent grin and a protruding chin.

He took but one glance before sticking his head back in, and unlocking the door for court to go in. "Singot hr Rogue Trader!" he exclaimed opening up to a flood of gloomy light and smoke

inside was a drinking hole, a tavern. A round chamber of arching loops forming booths with chanticleers of metal and dripping wax, music that was deafened by the mob of station scum and workers that made their merry inside, smoking on long pipes and choking on laughter from the raconteurs.

The tiny man, Jacob Shoemaker, walked back in to attend all the guests, for he was the host and shuffled about with a pitcher of grog

Barely contained were exaturated tales being shouted to barely conscious men

"Now you must hear a damned story which concerns a peasant by the name of Jeppe of the mountain! which was found drunk and sleeping in the field by the castle servants and the lord himself, they dragged him back to the castle, and put him in the lords best cloths and in the lords best bed, and they tried to convince him he was the lord!" Laughter intensifies "The castle servants were treating him as if he was the lord himself, and once Jeppe actually started to believe it so, did they drink him drunk once again, and put him back in the same stinking pile of mud where they found him once more, and when he woke did he convince himself he had passed on to paaaraaadice! Laughter erupts "Yea I nearly laughed myself to death hearing that story from the castle servants"

Such a place and mood was hardly a place fitting any respective rogue trader, and yet; one person was unmistakable, even if you had never met him:

By one of the center most tables sat a giant. Surrounded by a whole retinue of retainers and thralls, the giant was an immense man, made all the more hulking by his protruding armored environmental suit, covered in a mantle of mail, spark plugs hanging like tassels from it's edges, his great beard ended in small braids tipped with gems and rune stones. By his side, a great axe, as well as his staff and court of a few individuals of exotic appearances, such as a female with a craning headpiece of metal tubes and symbols of the creed, and a hulking servitor that carried around on it's back a wooden supporting beam covered in runes from his homeworld: a strange Banner of some kind.

The giant sat, drinking, but he was calmness in the storm, no shouting or laughing; like a mountain with a cracked face and infinite patience, despite his brutish appearance he seemed like ice as he glanced at Sarvus, measuring him up as well as those that would follow him.

"Sarvus Torain?" the giant rumbled slowly as if probing the name "You may sit with me, if you have something at heart" he offered, no doubt having as many questions as Sarvus had.

Meanwhile the tiny man Jacob Shoemaker was standing by the side of it all rubbing his hands together, no doubt excited these two juggernauts of the void were in his meager drinking hole

[qechua]

The walk through the station was an interesting experience, the hordes of leering people and the slight chemical smell in the air reminding Rosa of some of the lower decks. Instinctively, her hand felt around her shock knuckles, and although she never fully readied her fist, her hand tightened and her muscles tensed for the reactionary punch that had put so many over-eager ratings back in line. The entrance to the 'drinking establishment' felt little better, although she relaxed more than before, such drinking holes and their atmospheres often keeping the patrons focused on each other rather than on potential targets. As the group headed towards the giant, Rosa fell back slightly, showing her position as part of the Traders retinue, yet not necessarily the most important one. Her eyes scanned the bar, looking for brewing trouble, while she herself began planning escape routes and attack vectors in case a storm did break.

[Col.Straken]

Sarvus nodded to the giant facing him, "Chief Gorm I suppose?" he says knowing full well that this man must be the captain of the Trelleborg. Nodding for the Shoemaker to bring them drinks he sits, hands placed flat on the table to show he had no desire to reach for the weapons he carried.

"I will be frank with you, we have struggled to locate ourselves within the system. Our ship was damaged after an emergency warp translation, as you are well aware. We are still working on repairing much of the internal damage to cogitators and databanks. A simple point of direction would be of great aid at this time." He stated, keeping to the 'facts' the time for discussing more sensitive matters such as the Trelleborg's cargo and who the Chief was could come later, after a few drinks had been bought.

[Checkmate-Pony]

Gorm's eyes widened and he barely contained a laugh as if he could not believe what he heard "Point you the way?" he scuffed bemused "you come here, at this very moment, in this part of the expanse, at this exact hour of my greatest trail, you so happened to appear here... and you're lost?"

"That is impossible, I don't really believe you are damaged or stranded. How could it be anything else but destiny, that you were meant to be here? It's too... fateful" his tone seemed to darken with anger, for a moment it felt as if it would come to blows, but the giant was too curious to let that happen

"But I will humor you at least, if what you say is true. This is an area of space known as the Heathen Stars, and the greatest reason I mistrust your claim right now is because The Heathen Stars have been closed off for decades by warp storms"

The shoemaker would approach slowly, content with his work as he placed meager food on the table, watery soup and dry bread. The drink he brought was clear of colour and smelled like pure chemicals, properly not far from pure alcohol. It no doubt had a foul taste, but it would do it's 'job'

Gorm would drink some however, despite how unfitting it was men of greatness "I myself, and my crew have been here for 17 years, cut off from 'his' Imperium. Longer than that since I served the Trelleborg's previous master, my father"

"And the System we are in is called 17-03.Mart, a desolate little piece of nowhere I hide in, it belongs to the shoemaker, he inherited it from his master Rogue Trader Lon. Captain Lon is now dead, along with his entire expedition, he's entombed on the world below within his own little research station he build ages ago. An irradiated ruin now ofcourse, this station is the only survivors of his endeavors here, whatever they were." Gorm Explained and the Shoemaker would lift his head and sniker at Sarvus "And I like it ere" he said.

Whilst the conversation between them flowed, Rosa saw the central pillar of the drinking hole was completely covered in fliers and papers, upon closer inspection, these were not just notices and news, but mostly wanted posters, printed upon them the hideous faces of crime and sin, and a shocking amount of zeroes. One of Gorm's retinue stood by the posters observing, looking over the faces and names for inspiration. It was not hard to tell why, the man was a tanned, and overly tattooed thug with a brace of impossibly crude looking pistols studded with teeth and cave markings, he could be little else but a man-hunter, perhaps the arch millitant of Gorm

---

Beyond the senses of normal men, there was something unseen, both Cassius and Sage Vsal felt it, but each in their own unique ways. There was a hole in the world, a lingering lump in space. Both men could feel empyrean energy in their own subtle ways, but there was a strange absence of it in the world, a hole... a sphere, a black eye that had no focus point, utterly alien, and they soon realized, it was the towed rock. It defied psychic presence, and they felt it beyond the walls of the station.

[LairdMaon]

Sage Vsal feels his stomach clench at the sudden realization about the rock in space.

"Cassius, do you feel what I do not see? The rock... It is not entirely there." he whispers. Sage Vsal peers around at the room, the throng, seeking something, anything that might give comfort.

[megabyter5]

Cassius did not turn to face the navigator as he responded. He was transfixed, staring at the nothingness beyond.

"Perhaps," he said plainly, "it is best if we not speak of it."

It remained unspoken, of course, that speaking wasn't the only way to communicate these things. Hoping to avoid notice, Cassius called out to Vsal's mind, hoping to hold a conversation in privacy.

(Activation test 58 for Short Range Telepathy, does not risk phenomena): [roll0]

For the second time that day, Cassius found concentration impossible. Doubt began to set in, but he was determined to try again... if only after a moment to center himself.

[Leon]

Karina idles around the back of the room not particularly paying attention but alert for any threat

[qechua]

Seeing the posters, Rosa scanned the bar, looking for anyone who fitted any of the descriptions. She didn't really believe anyone wanted to that level would be stupid enough to be seen, but Gorm's would be bounty chaser didn't look like the type to seek subtlety, and someone matching the description 'close enough' might end up being the inadvertent cause of an altercation. Either way, being a pistol draw ahead of the competition might turn out to be a life saver, and she was ostensibly providing mobile security regardless.

[roll0] vs 15 (29 Perception - 50% untrained)

[Col.Straken]

Sarvus turned his palms face up and shrugged slowly, "Believe what you will about us. Though your story confirms our situation, we have had to make an emergency translation and you have been cut off by the storms. Clearly these storms have affected our boat and we had to escape."

He toyed with his glass though not actually drinking the liquid inside "It appears that we will be staying for a while. Is there work for a Captain around these parts, clearly we will need to resupply?"

[megabyter5]

Cassius took his time, filtering out distractions, then tried once more.

"Have you ever heard of a substance that could cause this, Vsal? Some sort of stone that shows no presence in the immaterium?"

[Checkmate-Pony]

The giant rumbled "The storms have been lifting, they say somewhere out there in the, there is a gate, much like that of old Cadia, giving passage to the Heathen stars, and with it, a whole troop of rogue traders have set sail for it. Naturally having the sub sector be cut off for so long it only urges more to come pry it once it opened up again"

"I tell you this so that you can put yourself in my place. Having been trapped inside the heathens stars getting by as I have, reaching the apex of my endeavors only for competition to come pouring in all the sudden from outside... you surely can understand my caution towards you"

"I shame not to admit, I nearly shat myself seeing that energy read out from your translation" he chuckled

He leaned back thinking "You are looking for Work, what a strange way to put it. Well, well... resupply, if you want to know how I managed, I've traversed the heathen stars back and fourth between a few selected worlds that provided me and my crew with what we needed, such as food and ore. But make no mistake captain, I tell you not this out of confidence, for they demand their price, planets such as Vaporius, Delectus Nox and Ygalmalar... among others"

"They are inhabited by: Natives and heathens. But we do what we must to survive"

"still, none of them had a working Goliath Fuel Foundry" he said slowly, almost hungrily.

-----
But a throw away, Rosa was looking at the posters and death warrants, none of them meant much to her, they were issued by port wanderer's law office.

Sure some had great bounties, and a scary face on them, with ridiculous names like: Long John Liquorish, The Phantom, (who looked like a spyre) Lobster Johnson, and one named Horse Lars who supposedly was wanted for the crime of forging fake wanted posters.

This was all great if only she had anything to go by, but meant little right now, they could be anywhere, but at least she'd be able to recall for later use.

But when Rosa started looking past the big fish, and on the much older posters beneath, of the much lesser prizes did it reveal a shocking truth.

Pretty much everyone around her was listed here, all the filthy faces of the station crew was here, none of the Trelleborg or his retinue, but the scum of the station, the former servants of Lon. They all had their names somewhere, with an undated picture of younger selves, and a small and almost worthless price on their heads, including the shoemaker himself. They all stated the same crime, that of treason against their own masters and thus the Imperium of man.

Maybe they kept these posters as a reminder of their past, or as trophies, or it was this Horse Lars who had forged them all... properly not.

But were it true, the fact stood, it a station of traitors.