Dark Heresy: Heresies of the Karridean Verge (IC)

[Erulasto]

PROLOGUE

Fidelis. A Hive World near the center of Sub-Sector Volanti, and ostensibly the most prosperous World in the entire Korolan Sector. With a population of nineteen trillion souls spread across four great hives, and containing the Void-Station residence of Governor-Subsector Lucian van Graff, it is considered to be the capitol of the entire Sub-sector. It exists solely built upon the backbone of a strong economic focus in trade and commerce, and the night sky is filled with the plasma wakes of dozens of massive Chartist void-ships coming and going from the Fidelis Void Station.

Home to the Third Fleet of Battlefleet Korolan, the perpetual presence of several cruisers and a flotilla of Naval escorts provides ample security in space, just as the full thirteen regiments of the Fidelian Foxes Imperial Guard that call the planet home provide an added measure of security to the millions of Adeptus Arbites and Planetary Defense Force personnel.

The four hives: Grestian, Isitor, Haller and Sefora are far from one another – linked by massive highways and transport roads lifted above the toxic mire that has spread across the surface from overpopulation and abuse of the ecosystem. The Guard routinely sweep these roadways to ensure they are not hindered by the occasional feral mutants that call the wastes home.

High in Hive Grestian exists the manor of Inquisitor Felix Bannon. Half-fortress, half-residential barracks, the manor functions as the primary base of operations for many of his Inquisitorial Acolytes and contains both a private landing platform for shuttles and other vessels, and a fully-stocked armoury to equip the full platoon of Inquisitorial Storm Troopers who protect the premises and the secrets stored within.

You have been called from a short period of leave; three blissful weeks of living your own lives and doing your own thing. The missive came from Interrogator Sonya Astrazan – your primary handler, when Bannon is too busy to give his attention to his Acolytes. She bade you come with haste to the Manor to be briefed on your next assignment – and to set your personal affairs in order….

The Inquisition has need of you, once again.



______xXx_____


FIDELIS – HIVE GRESTIAN – INQUISITORIAL MANOR OF FELIX BANNON
3.250.982.M41

You have been here before, and every time you set foot in this chamber you are both awed and terrified by what it represents: the might and power of the Holy Inquisition.

A heavy silence fills the chamber once you had passed the large double doors and black-armoured Inquisitorial Storm Troopers that flanked it. The doors had been rather plain – plasteel and richly lacquered wooden paneling – with no extra heraldry or indication of what lay beyond.

The room itself was a vast circular chamber, easily fifteen or twenty yards across, though it did seem less so, as the exterior edges of the room were hidden from view by a row of thick pillars and emblazoned curtains. It created a sort of outer ring to the room, where you knew that more Storm Troopers would likely be lying in wait for fool-hardy attempts at disturbing the peace.

The pillars were ferrocrete, though entirely plated in gold and festooned with black iron braziers hanging at various intervals up the pillars to the high, vaulted roof. The curtains were heavy cloth – cut from the same material many war banners were crafted from – and each a brilliant crimson, embroidered with gold, black and white threads to depict various honorifics and iconography to both the Holy Ordos and the Holy Throne itself.

The center of the room, was one massive slab of highly polished black volcanic glass. It was warm to the touch as if the heat that had formed it was still held within, and in the very center of the slab was a gold Aquila and a larger representation of the Inquisitorial Rosette.

A singular table sat at the far end of the chamber and it was thick and crafted of ancient Sequoia wood. A master craftsman had meticulously carved devotional icons and pictographs across all the surfaces save the very top, which was entirely smooth save for the indentation in the center of the oval table in which a holo-display was embedded. Currently, a blue and green holo-pict was flickering softly above the table.

The most telling and grand feature of the room, however was the massive statue of gold that dominated the center of the far wall. It was a representation of the founder of the Inquisition, Malcador the Sigilite. Flanking the statue were massive arched windows that allowed a panoptic view of the Hive that sprawled out beneath Bannon’s Offices on Fidelis. The blue star of the system was dipping low on the horizon, partially obscured by the spires and towers of the upper reaches of Hive Grestian, shadowed by the slow decline of the sun.

Bannon himself did not seem to be present. You had heard a whispering amongst the staff of Bannon’s manor here on Fidelis that he was off-planet dealing with issues close to the borders of Sub-sector Adamus – the Dark Zone.

Instead, you were presented with a singular figure standing near the table and alternating her attention between the glowing holo-display and a data-slate in hand.

Interrogator Sonya Astrazan was scowling at whatever she was looking at, pretty features bunched into an expression of disgust and frustration. Her shapely physique was clad in a matte forest green suit of carapace armour, over which were voluminous robes of fine black silks and leathers. At home here in Bannon’s manor, she wore her wavy red hair long and loose and it spilled across her shoulders as she glanced about – muttering curses under her breath.

When the thunderous crash of the door closing behind you echoed through the otherwise silent room, Sonya glanced up at you – the scowl softening just a bit.

”Thank you for coming.” She says, setting the data-slate down on the tabletop and turning her full attention to them.

”Bannon has requested you undertake an assignment for him on the agri-world of Aporia. There are concerns from the Planetary-Governor that a mutant cult may have been growing uncontrolled on the planet for some time.” Astrazan looks at the holo-display, and clicks a small switch on the side of the table to bring up the image of a beautiful blue water planet. Upon close inspection, there appears to be only one major city on the only real land mass in the southern hemisphere. Large polar ice caps rest on both the top and the bottom of the world, but otherwise it’s entirely covered in dark blue seas.

”The economy is based on farming some type of protein-rich creature from the sea. Most of the native inhabitants of Aporia live on floating city-ships. Ancient things. Next to impossible to recreate as I understand it. One of these ships….Velar’s Hope vanished a few months ago. Another ship picked up some castaways from the missing ship and they were all raving mad-men. Lost as sea for weeks apparently. The Governor sent an Arbitrator squad to go and interview them. I can provide copies of the interviews if you want. It’s pretty graphic. The men were screaming about mutants from the Deep.”

Sonya runs her fingers through her mane of hair with a sigh. ”Go to Aporia. Find out what’s going on and put a stop to it. If you can find Velar’s Hope, try to do so to try and salvage some of the damage done to the economy, but your primary concern is to permanently end whatever is causing these mutations – if there are any – and halt any cult activity.”

”Questions?”



Feel free to begin with a brief description of your character, if you are so inclined.
Things of note:
- You have assigned rooms in the Inquisitorial Manor. They're not much more than a cot, closet and desk, but it's yours. You don't have to stay there if you don't want, but other than manor security, and likely Bannon, you're the only one who has the key for it.
- Give yourself one more full months pay minus 1d10 thrones, as you've had a few weeks off.
- Feel free to make any rolls for for anything you'd like to do going forward in a Spoiler. Want to know more about Aporia, for example. Go ahead and roll. Count these rolls as base difficulty, and I'll let you know if there's difficulty modifiers or penalties after the fact (or feel free to reference the example difficulties in any skill section and add or subtract as needed).

[Erulasto]

DARK HERESY: Heresies of the Karridean Verge
OOC THREAD



User
Character
Concept


Sarak
Brother Nuric (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=23085011&postcount=2)
Untouchable Cleric


Bennosuke
Alaric Varn (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=23085536&postcount=3)
Biker Punk Scum


CrimsonKnight
Lena (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=23085591&postcount=5)
Feral Assassin


Lycan 01
Ralix Zamir (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=23085882&postcount=7)
Noble-born Adept


ArendK
Jericus Kessler (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=23087565&postcount=15)
Former Imperial Guard Corporal


Qechua
Qualia Mithras (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=23085611&postcount=6)
Imperial Psyker






The KOROLAN SECTOR

The Korolan Sector, like all sectors recognized by the Administratum of Terra, is a region of space roughly the shape of a cube spanning two hundred light years. It sits near the Calixis Sector, the Orioz Sector and the Cygni Septum Sector. The Korolan sector has been a stable region throughout Imperial History, though also one not fully explored or developed. In the waning years of the 39th Millennium, an Imperial Explorator Fleet under the command of Commodore Adolf Korolanus first entered the region in force, and carved a trail through the region – purging unclean Xenos from several systems – and settling those planets that proved valuable to the Imperium of Man.
Ultimately, Korolanus did not fully explore the sector that was named for him. His fleet was broken in a battle that ravaged the Bharati System. What few records survived the engagement implied that they had stumbled into a system with a vast Xenos structure locked in a tidal orbit of the systems blue giant star and were immediately set upon by sleek, maneuverable Xenos vessels. The only ship to make it out of the system was a Mechanicus vessel, who managed to drop Quarantine Beacons before transitioning into the Warp.
Now, many years later, the Sector has been further settled and grown into a prosperous region for the Imperium. Despite the growth that continues to spread, one region still remains unexplored. The subsector to the Galactic South of an expanse known as the Karridean Verge – Sub-sector Adamus – still remains undisturbed by Imperial Forces. The Bharati System – still quarantined – rests on the border of this Sub-sector, and is used as a warning marker for Imperial fleets that they are approaching the Dark Zone.




The Dark Zone is a completely unexplored region of the Korolan Sector. While there are many intrepid Chartist Captains or Rogue Traders who would brave this region, it has a reputation for ill fortune to those who take such a chance. Warp storms and other turbulence during Warp Travel often impedes long-term transit, and rumours of Xenos and other unclean things dwelling within have, so far, steered a great many away. The only system that is classified by the Administratum is the Bharati System – a quarantined Maiden world with a known Xenos presence. To breach the Quarantine Zone and survive is to receive a visit from the Inquisition.



Sub-sector Volanti is the most populated region in the Sector, with multiple Hive Worlds and even more Proto-Hives existing across the sub-sector. It is nominally controlled by Governor-Subsector Lucian van Graff, who enjoys popular support from the High Lords of Terra due to his unflinching precision in ensuring Imperial Tithes are met. Van Graff dwells in a massive void-station in orbit of the Hive World Fidelis.



Next to Sub-sector Volanti, Osse is the second region that Commodore Korolanus discovered. It contains an inordinate amount of mineral wealth, and hundreds – if not thousands – of deep-void mining operations exist. While it does not have the population density that Volanti does due to the reduced number of Hive Worlds, it’s high population is spread much farther. Chartist Captains often say that they could close their eyes and travel in any direction and they would find a mining colony within a day or two. Osse is controlled by Governor-Subsector Hansel Aggrapa. Aggrapa has close ties with the Adeptus Mechanicus, and has been accused of allowing them special privileges.



The Heart of the Sectors survival, Sub-sector Banath contains dozens of highly productive Agri-Worlds. Many of these worlds provide food in quantities so vast that there is often a surplus that is traded at a very notable fee to other Sectors. As such, the Imperial Guard regimental levies that are raised from the Sector do not want for nutritious food and rations. Presently, Sub-sector Banath is without a Governor. The last one – Mira Provolio – died when her personal transport crashed during a tour of the Agri-World called Devonshire. Presently, a small petty-council runs the operations of the Sub-sector until the High Lords of Terra can appoint a replacement.







Luxzemburg (Type-K Orange Dwarf): Luxzemburg is a major Forge World that is well-renowned for producing large ground-based transport vehicles, ranging from freight trucks to troop transports for the Imperial Guard. Several smaller manufactorum’s specialize in more luxury vehicles such as motorcycles, racing vehicles and high-end luxury transports for the wealthy. It is the third planet of four, and it orbits a bright orange star. The other three worlds are now honey-combed with labyrinthine tunnels from the ongoing mining operations upon them. The planet closest to the star is mined for the deep-dwelling pockets of unrefined Prometheum contained within.

Ubalto (Type-M Red Dwarf): The twisting, narrow streets of the Hive World Ubalto are home to some of the nastiest gangs and urban predators in the Sub-sector. This world has all but been forgotten by the Imperium for only the upper reaches of the Hives are safe from wandering gangs and tribes that have overrun the lower reaches. They have a society built on inter-tribal and inter-gang warfare and much of the toxic wilderness has spilled into the poorly maintained Hives. The nobility of Ubalto live like kings and Queens, their power based entirely on the distribution of meager resources to buy the loyalty of the tribes below. Occasionally, when the Imperial Guard has need of extra manpower, they will send massive recruitment drives down to round up the people of Ubalto as if it were a feral world.

Shivan (Type-M Red Supergiant): This system contains only one intact planetary body, a vicious Death World in close proximity to the star. It’s surface is bathed in solar radiation, and the surface of the once sandy planet has been melted to sheer plains of slippery black glass. A Mechanicus research facility exists tucked into a narrow, craggy cleft between glassy mountains.

Coram (Type-F Yellow Dwarf): Coram is an industrial world. It doesn’t have the sort of infrastructure, or Mechanicus presence to ascend to a true Forge World. Instead, it’s countless small cities compete with each other to produce quality lasguns and las-pistols. They are best known for the Coram XXIV-pattern Lasgun, and the Coram IX-pattern Las-Pistol.

Caszic (Type-G Yellow Giant): The massive world that is Caszic is the only planet in the system, and is a gas giant almost as large as the giant star at the systems center. The gas giant has an upper atmosphere rich with oxygen, while the significantly denser atmosphere below a seven kilometer safe zone is heavy gasses constantly churning in intense ion storms. Several large floating cities drift through the safe zone, gathering energy from the random ion strikes that streak through the area in vast collection-arrays.

Oberstyre (Type-A White Supergiant): Oberstyre is an up and coming Forge World. It’s primary industry on the surface consist of crafting components for the void-ships that are assembled in the immense shipyards that orbit the planet. The entire planet is focused upon the production of void-faring vessels, and the shipyards can host an impressive twenty-seven hulls.

Hraline (Type-F Yellow Subdwarf): Hraline is an Agri-World with two moons that have a rather inconsistent orbit. This odd orbital pattern makes for a fluctuating water table that allows for a few bountiful harvest seasons, followed by a long drought. The planet is a lush paradise for a third of its long year, followed by a long recovery period. It is a hard life the citizens live, but the inevitably bountiful harvest at the end of the dry spell brings considerable wealth to those who make it home. It produces a number of small luxuries in other areas of the world, but primarily produces Gannic, a plant with nutrient-rich bulbs that serve as solid nutrient base and stalks that are useful in a variety of textiles as well. Lately, the dry season has been growing longer and the Imperial citizens are beginning to realize the planet may not sustain them forever at this cycle of use. Lately, more and more preachers have been assigned there to bolster the flagging Faith.

Durrax (Type-M Red Supergiant): The Penal World of Durrax may as well be a death world for all intents and purposes, though it houses no native life save for fat, wriggly slug-like creatures. The planet's outer crust is a thick, dense layer of razor-sharp, craggy rock that is next to impossible to break. The surface is criss-crossed by an overly complicated network of deep gorges and chasms. The floor of these chasms is soft-packed dirt, and it is here that the Durraxian Burrowers dwell. It is also into these chasms that the penal colony is housed, built into the walls of a particularly wide and deep gorge.





Bharati (Type-O Blue Giant): A heavily proscribed system, there appeared to be several verdant maiden worlds present around a massive, bright blue giant star. In orbit around the star was a Xenos structure that was never identified by the Explorator Fleets before it was destroyed. Quarantine beacons warn ships away for dozens of light years around.





Fidelis (Type-B Blue Dwarf): For all intents and purposes, Fidelis is the capital of the sub-sector. It is a center of trade and commerce, and the entire economy of this truly massive Hive World is devoted entirely to tourism, trade and entertainment. It is incredibly cosmopolitan in its views, compared to the rest of the region; a fact that often has representatives of the Holy Ordos maneuvering throughout the world to ferret out heresies and other proscribed evils.
Main Hives: Grestian, Sefora, Haller and Isiter.

Cozmera Wyrd (Type-B Blue Giant): A paradise world of unprecedented beauty. The smaller world has a lower gravity than most planets its size due to a unique mineral make-up in the core, and the cities are build upon tall pillars that reach up into the sky alongside floating islands and mountains that seem to be buoyed by the strange gravitational effects. It is a pleasure world, well known for it's highly acrobatic dancers, and cruising through the sky on light-weight aerial pleasure yachts.

Logofer VI (Type-A White Dwarf): The Fortress World of Logofer VI is a heavily populated world on the edge of the Sub-sector that generates many regiments for the Imperial Guard. The Planetary-Governor Malkon Madrass recently declared his intent to secede from the Imperium, and with him a full thirty-six regiments of Guard, the sixth fleet of Battlefleet Korolan and several mercenary companies joined his uprising. Currently, there is a crusade that - as of 124.982.41M - made planetfall and have become embroiled in a massive campaign to purge the Recidivists from the planet.

Sacristan (Type-A White Giant): A Cardinal and Shrine world, and the head of the Ecclesiarchy in the entire Korolan Sector. Three massive temple-cities dot the rolling fields and valleys of the planet, while the space between the have been turned into vast graveyards and cemetaries thousands of kilometers in size. A convent of the Adeptus Sororitas is garrisoned here, to act as the Sword of the Ministorum.

Ezrant (Type-G Yellow Subdwarf): Ezrant is an aspiring Hive World, properly classified as a Proto-Hive. Presently, there are six minor hives that are gradually growing together as the years pass and progress takes its toll. The landscape is not toxic yet, though it is becoming inhospitable. Strife occurs as the people of the Hives conflict with the remnants of the agricultural and farming communities slowly being strangled by the encroachment of the massive cities.

Haitros (Type-M Red Hypergiant): A large, rocky world with four small moons and a surface pock-marked with deep craters and the wrecks of old voidships. This was once an Imperial world that was subjected to an Exterminatus shortly after it was colonized when it fell to a cult of the Ruinous Powers. The ruling family of Haitros was highly skilled in genetic manipulation, and bred strange mutations into much of the noble born residents of the world. Most information about Haitrossian culture, languages, and other information have been declared Heretical by the Ordo Hereticus. Of the suspected thousand survivors of Haitros, the Inquisition has active warrants out for the capture or death of over half.

Indri (Type-M Red Giant):: A large gas giant with distinctive white striations through the rust-hued clouds. The only reason this system is of note to the Imperium is due to the derelict carcass of an ancient Space Hulk caught in a slowly declining orbit of the planet.

Yalpene (Type-M Red Dwarf): An uninhabited system with no planetary bodies. Only a system-wide asteroid field exists here, though an automated Augur Array exists on one of the larger asteroids. The Array was set up by the Adeptus Mechanicus over two centuries ago to measure strange gravimetric disturbances in the corona of the Yalpene Star.





Aporia (Type-F Yellow Dwarf): An Agri-World of sorts, Aporia is a world covered almost entirely by unfathomably deep oceans. A singular landmass contains the only stationary city – Aporro City – that houses the Imperial administration and planetary defense forces for the world. It maintains a space elevator that ascends to a small void-station used exclusively to transport the thousands of tons of protein-rich plankton-like lifeforms that are harvested by floating city-ships.

Devonshire (Type-G Yellow Giant): Devonshire is the quintessential Agri-World, with thousands of kilometers of verdant fields, plantations and raw material storage. Three small spaceports work day and night to ship goods to and from the planet. Recently, the Governor-Subsector died in a fiery crash in the southern hemisphere when her shuttle went down during a tour of the agricultural facilities.

Faradikan (Type-G Yellow Dwarf): A feral world on the borders between Subsectors Bananth and Adama. The wild men there coinstantly feud with the feral Orks that dwell in the Southern wastelands. The planet is known for a potent brandy with grapes grown in the corpses of the Greenskins.

Cobb’s Landing (Type-K Orange Dwarf): Is flat savannah and rolling plains, where massive Grox herds make slow migrations across the land following the seasonal cycles. These herds are culled routinely, and the meat and skins fetch a decent price in bulk across the Sector.

Kesh-Suras (Black Hole and Type-B Blue Dwarf): A heavily forested world, with tall mountain ranges at the polar regions that feed glacial runoff into frothing rapids and quick-moving rivers. An abundance of natural wildlife makes trapping for exotic skins and strange delicacies makes this world a prime place for visitors. Several small trader enclaves exist throughout, with a single major city sitting near the warmer Southern polar region. This planet sits at the outer reaches of the system, which was once the home of binary stars. Ages ago, a Dark Mechanicus Traitor detonated a highly-experimental Exterminatus-level weapon in the yellow giant that the blue dwarf orbited. This weapon caused the yellow giant to implode, and form into a black hole. The blue dwarf is locked in a stationary orbit above the black hole, it’s gravity enough that it hasn’t been pulled in immediately. Instead, the black hole leeches energy from the blue dwarf, condemning it to a slow death.

Pascallion (Type-G Yellow Subdwarf): A feudal world of various warlords, all of which compete in yearly tournaments to have the honour of being the kingdom that provides a warrior-tithe the the Armies of the Imperium of Man.

Garoun (Type-M Red Dwarf): A Death World populated by titanic beasts that dwell in dry, dusty forests and sandy dunes. It has been officially quarantined by the Imperial Authorities due to its danger.

Viccarus III (Type-G Yellow Dwarf): An agri-world composed of a vast network of interconnecting peninsula and atoll's where the primary growth are rich fruits used to distill into alcohol, ranging from cheap ales and wines to more exotic amasec's and brandies. Even their cheapest drink is well-regarded throughout the Sector.






Inquisitor Felix Bannon: An Inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus, Felix Bannon has a distinguished career, his skills at organizing assets and utilizing them to the best of their abilities bringing him a great deal of prestige. Bannon cultivates multiple groups of Acolytes, and directs them against threats to the Imperium with great skill, and care. He has personally been responsible for the elevation of no less than three other Inquisitors – all of which served as his Interrogator’s prior to rising to eminence themselves.
Bannon is a tall man, with dark hair and dark eyes that hold an intense, piercing intellect. He has a well-groomed mustache and beard, trimmed down to barely more than stubble. His nose is hooked, and his face has an overall hawkish look. He generally wears well-tailored clothes in various dark hues, but has been known to don a suit of ornate carapace armor when the situation calls for it.

Interrogator Sonya Astrazan: Bannon has, on occasion, taken students under his wing and taught them the ways of the Inquisition. Few of them, unfortunately, have excelled in this dangerous line of study like Sonya Astrazan. Originally a trained companion-courtesan being groomed to service the increasingly corrupt noble houses that ruled the Hive World of Tashimo, she was freed and taken under the wing of Inquisitor Bannon when he led a purge against the Noble houses and the seditious cult that had been festering within.
Sonya is an attractive woman who knows how to use her looks to her advantage. She has wavy red hair and inquisitive green eyes that are far more perceptive than most give her credit for. While her original skill-set was devoted more to conversation, and titillation, Bannon recognized her sharp mind and her love of learning and has ensured her education has continued. She is now well read on many subjects, and aside from her people skills, Sonya’s greatest strength is her mind.

Solstice: The silent protector of Inquisitor Bannon is known to be an assassin-adept from one of the numerous Imperial Death Cults, though little is known of her beyond that. She has bright, glacial blue eyes, pale skin and long white-blonde hair but the rest of her is routinely covered by black synth-skin and an unusual skull-shaped death mask. She never speaks – it is unclear if she even can, but Inquisitor Bannon is never encountered without her.

Gregor Ettinbrand: Gregor is a skilled pilot, and often the one brought on to transport various teams of Acolytes on behalf of Inquisitor Bannon. The story goes that Gregor earned his place as a Throne Agent when he was drafted to ferry Bannon and a kill-team of Adeptus Sororitas into the thick of a Heretical Uprising on Akkemar IV. Anti-air fire was intense as they made their approach, far past the allied offensive, and into the heart of the Rogue Governor’s palace district. In a pared down Aquila Lander, Gregor managed to not only out-maneuver three Avenger Strike Fighters, but land in a shallow courtyard far closer to the Governor than originally expected: all the while flying with heavy damage from the constant barrage of AA guns.
He is a handsome man with cropped blonde hair and bright blue eyes, though the left side of his face is scarred from a wound taken during that initial foray with Bannon. He usually wears a flak vest over his flight suit, reasoning that you never know when something may explode in the heat of the moment and he’d rather not have a shard of metal in his gut while trying to fly.






Captain Jonah Hathaway: When Jonah Hathaway was a young man, he wished for nothing more than an adventurous career in the Imperial Navy, or maybe to found a new Rogue Trader dynasty. While he was well at home on a voidship, his tactical acumen left much to be desired. Now, the slightly rotund but jovial man consoles himself that at least he still gets to captain his own ship. Jonah is a Chartist Captain of a freight transport called the Wayfarer. He has sandy blonde hair usually worn in a short ponytail, warm brown eyes and a well-groomed handlebar mustache and beard. He usually favours expensive clothes in various blues and blacks.
After Jonah inadvertently came to the rescue of Inquisitor Bannon during an operation several years ago, his honesty and pious nature endeared him to Bannon and now, when Bannon needs some assistance with one of his teams of Acolytes, sometimes Captain Hathaway is hired to transport them – for a modest fee, of course.

Commander Ascobel Roth: Adjutant and Second-in-Command of the Wayfarer, Ascobel is a striking woman with sharp features and white-blonde hair. She carries herself with the poise and mannerisms of a Naval officer, better suited to life on a warship than on a merchant trader vessel. Rumours among the deck-hands and ratings would claim she is a disgraced officer, and that Hathaway had picked her up a few years ago. Regardless of her true origins, Ascobel is a skilled and efficient officer.

Chief Astropath Quayle Drummond: A stooped, prematurely aged man with a bald head and several sanctioning scars across his cranium. Bright, friendly smile that appear much younger than his appearance would otherwise indicate. He leans heavily on a gnarled wooden staff, and is adorned in rich robes of office and several gold religious icons and wards upon a chain around his neck. His eyes are opaque and milky white, though he seems to get around well enough for a man who cannot see.

Sergeant Sanje Gorram: Commanding Officer of the Wayfarer's Security Forces. A tall, broad shouldered man with a well-maintained suit of Enforcer Light Carapace Armour who usually is found with a curved mono-sword and a las-pistol. His left eye has been replaced by cybernetic augmentation, and his face shows several battle scars hidden beneath a shaggy mop of brown hair.

Confessor Ferdinand Ulhando: A remarkable Cleric on the Wayfarer and the vessels primary Confessor. Blonde, shaggy hair with bright eyes and burn scars on the left side of his face. He has an old hand-flamer and chainsword that he inherited from his own father - a Commissar turned Confessor in the latter years of his life.

Ensign Leah Cooper: A youthful bridge officer candidate on the Wayfarer. Usually works Navigation and very adept at plotting courses for the void ship at sub-light speeds. Seems to have become enamoured with Alaric.





Lord-Marshal Alexei Yagi: Appointed by the High Lords of Terra to lead the crusade to bring the rogue Fortress World of Logofer VI to heel.

Governor Lucius van Graff: Governor-Subsector of the Volanti Sub-Sector. Strictly enforces the tithe grades set by the Administratum, and as such enjoys a lot of popular support from various factions including the High Lords of Terra themselves.

Governor Hansel Aggrapa: Governor-Subsector of the Osse Sub-Sector. Known to have very close ties with the Adeptus Mechanicus.





Planetary-Governor Vernon Klass: The Planetary-Governor of Aporia, Vernon Klass is a rotund, heavy man with a somewhat sycophantic streak when it comes to those of higher station than himself. He appears a bit sniveling, and comes across as somewhat effete. In truth, his demeanor belies a true loyalty to the Imperium of Man, and he is a staunch supporter of the Offices of the God-Emperor’s Agents. Governor Klass is bald, with wide, round blue eyes and rather rosy-tinted skin. He perpetually sweats, and is always dabbing at his fleshy head with silken kerchiefs. Despite all the supposed flaws, Klass has a logical mind and is a very adept administrator.

Augusta: Tertiary-Aide to Planetary-Governor Vernon Klass. Assigned as the liason for the Acolytes with the Governor's staff.

Chief-Medicae Aretha Fraun: The chief-medicae of Aporro City, under orders from Governor Klass to perform a medical examination upon the three surviving crew members of the Velar's Hope that were picked up as cast-aways at sea.

Chief-Judge Helena Logan: A tall, Amazonian woman with a bald head and augmetic eye in the black carapace armour of an Imperial Abites Judge. Grim personality.

General Adelward Gorbech: A heavyset man with a thick neck and a rotund nose. Commander-in-Chief of the Aporrian PDF.

Magos-Xenobiologis Yvette Carracin: Leader of the Adeptus Mechanicus force that settled on Aporia six years ago to study deep-sea organisms. Currently not cooperating with local Administratum personnel.

Cavan, Roen and Nathan: Three security guards upon the Aporian Trade Depot void-station that spoke with Jericus and Nuric after discovering the mutated Aporian Lash-Fin in one of the shipping crates.

Pol: A young depot worker who was mauled by the Aporian Lash-Fin, but saved from death by the timely - if gruesome - intervention of Lena.

AX-11034: A Skitarii soldier in service to the Machine Cult on Aporia.

AX-10081: A Skitarii in service to Engineseer Amiros on Aporia. Was compromised by the warp-entity on the Aporia Trade Depot void-station and possessed by some insidious tech-heresy. The Skitarii was wrestled to the ground by Jericus and Qualia, before Alaric executed him by shooting him in the head. DECEASED

Enginseer Amiros: A Tech-Priest upon the Aporian Trade Depot void-station seeking to solve the stations failures.

Officer Krut: A bully in the service of the Planetary-Governor, defending the Governor's Palace.







Captain Kasran Dire: A Rogue Trader from the Dire Dynasty and Captain of the Direwolf. Kasran is presently suspected of being involved in heretical dealings by the Inquisitorial Acolytes. Owns the Black Charter to a personal army of former penal legionnaires.

Lady Kaetlyn Balto: An attractive young woman in her mid-twenties with wavy red hair and keen eyes. Seen wearing a grey dress like that of a cloistered sister or student of the Schola Progenium. Companion to Captain Kasran Dire. It was revealled that Lady Kaetlyn was a surviving member of the noble lines of Haitros before its Exterminatus. Kaetlyn was shot by Alaric after 'birthing' some sort of mutant abomination in the bathroom of the Aporian Trade Depot's void-station. DECEASED.

Inquisitor Luther Hemlock: Supposedly an Inquisitor who claims to be the Bearer of the Spear of Arcand, the Scion of Daxos and the Hunter of Oah.





Malkon Madrass: The Planetary-Governor of Logofer VI that orchestrated the succession of the Fortress-World from Imperial Rule. While his motivations and reasons are still as of yet unknown, he was able to corrupt many others to his way of thinking in a short period of time. Despite the Crusade sent to pacify the world, the Ordo Hereticus has a great deal of interest in determining the root cause of this heresy.

Magos-Biologis Gaulyk: A Heretek specializing in genetic manipulation and reputed to be the creation of a eugenic mutant breeding program on Haitros before the planet was burned by Exterminatus. Still at large. Suspected to be progenitor of whatever strange mutation affected Lady Kaetlyn Balto.

Oah: A warp-entity rumoured to be a Daemon from before the rise of the Imperium.






The Wayfarer: A well-maintained Vagabond-class Merchant Trader. Pride and Joy of Captain Jonah Hathaway. It is a small, multi-purpose vessel with many extra holds having been built for larger capacity of hauling. It’s only real weapon systems is a single macro battery mounted on the dorsal spine and a lance battery mounted on the prow. It’s nothing exceptionally fancy, but it does the trick. One of the cargo holds has been converted into a large hangar. It usually contains a pair of modified Eagle-class Shuttles, and a single Aquila Lander.

Aporia’s Blessing: An Aporian City-Ship under the command of Dynastic-Captain Adolf Carruthers. Two kilometers long, with a width of 0.79 kilometers. Population 64,533.

Velar’s Hope: An Aporian City-Ship under the command of Dynastic-Captain Santiago Hertz. Presently missing. Three kilometers long, with a width of 1.02 kilometers. Population 81,218.

Pride of Sacristan: A Pilgrim-Ship originating from the Shrine World of Sacristan. It began it's latest pilgrimage many years ago, but was reported lost to the Warp a decade ago. It has since reappeared in the Yalpene System. The Acolytes opted to ignore its distress signal and continue on to Aporia. Current status is unknown.

The Direwolf: The personal void-ship of the Rogue Trader, Kasran Dire. A heavily modified Dauntless-class Light Cruiser. The decorative Eagle upon the forward prow armour has been replaced with the snarling visage of a Fenrisian Dire Wolf.




'84 Viccarian Amasec: A finely aged, vintage amasec brewed on the agri-world of Viccarus III. Considered a very strong drink, but a sublime experience. Usually goes for about 300-500 thrones a bottle depending on scarcity.
Guverrian Scallops: Thick and sponge-like balls of meat at the center of a large hard shell. Named after Alman Guverro, the chef who first tried cooking the scallops harvested from the shoals of Aporia's only landmass.
Gannic: The primary export of the Agri-World of Hraline.
Surrasian Honey-Nuts: Native only to Kesh-Suras, these small almond-sized nuts are found primarily in large clusters near the riverbeds.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

It had been several weeks since her return to the manor, and many weeks before that since she had first arrived on Fidelis. The sight had unnerved her then, and it still twisted her mind. She looked out the window of her room, apparently reinforced but still fragile by warship standards. Below, the hive disappeared into the distance, akin to a cruiser upended and dug into the surface. She had requested a room with a view of the stars to ease her increasingly restless nights, but this was not quite what she had had in mind.

All a sudden found herself grasping onto a nearby pillar for support, her mind boggling itself as she saw three figures floating through the air below, the tall one and two of their associates. She caught a view of herself in the mirror to the side of the window as she averted her gaze from the outside. The blue light of the star mixed with the aquamarine of her skin and made her appear even more alien, while the light glinted off of her insignia, sat proudly amongst the utilitarian exercise gear. Her sanctioning brand itched, as it did often, but she resisted the urge to rub it, that only ever made it worse.

She retreated to her ironically named bathing chambers, washing herself of the sweat acculmulated from Jericus' evening calisthenics routines. They had maybe not as thorough as she had wanted, but given his propensity for more two dimensional combat, it was hardly surprising, and thus she had taken to supplementing the regime with additional climbing and dropping exercises. Her cleansing finished, Qualia changed into her deep purple robes, yet more precautions to mark her as a witch. She sat on her bed, and tried to set her mind more at ease by thinking of the warship in the skies above, imagining herself still cruising in His Light

A small chirp took her attention, a summons to the meeting halls, and not even a Captain could keep the Inquisition waiting. She tied her white hair into a crude pony-tail, donned her heavy duty boots and headed down to the hall. The belt holding her las-pistol and sword remained hung on the walls, while her psykana remained on her right hip, exactly where she had told the rest of the team it would remain. Naval life had taught her to trust strangers with her life, and she had made a point of impressing to the rest of the team that it was a weapon not meant for her to draw. Instead, it was positioned perfectly so that someone behind her could draw and use it in one movement, to save everyone around from whatever dark force attempted to break into her mind.

She proceeded to the meeting halls, arriving first and quickly taking a seat, the high ceilings once more reinforcing how alien this life was to her old one. While waiting for the others, she attempted to estimate how many enlisted would be billeted in a hall like this, with the space correctly apportioned. No doubt the navy would find a way of putting hundreds in here, and potentially three distinct decks. It was one of many mental exercises she used to settle herself in such situations.

She listened to the briefing, a spark of imagination appearing and then extinguishing itself at the talk of ships. There was no question to Qualia of taking on the task, an order didn't need to include the word order to make it an order. Once Interrogator Astrazan was finished, Qualia hazarded a couple of questions

"Ma'am, do we have the previous tracks of the Velar's Hope? It may give us some clues as to where she proceeded. Secondly, is there any previous activity upon Aporia we should be aware of, other concerns the governor has noted. Finally, given the amount of food Aporia provides to the sector, how far should we go to minimise any additional damage to the planet and it's economy? "

[Bennosuke]

Alaric Varn stands at the back of the group, trying his best to remain in the background. He is dressed in a dark red leather jacket, with a half aquila matching his facial tattoo printed in black on the back. He stands with his hands held behind his back trying his best to look like he is showing deference, something he never really learned to do. For once, Alaric was going to speak before he thinks.

Will roll for CL Imperium (int) at Alaric's Int of 43 [roll0]
EDIT: Well that's a darn good start.

[ArendK]

Jericus had just finished getting showered after the calisthenics exercises with Qualia and the others. Dressing lightly for another evening lower in the hive enjoying drinks with the local PDF regulars, his las-pistol tucked inside of his jacket and his knife at his hip. He'd never needed either since his outings began with the local units, but better to have it and not need it. No one usually paid too much attention at least; who was ever expecting a Guardsmen to go anywhere unarmed?

He was just walking out the main estates door when the missive came in. Well, there went that plan for the evening.

Jericus leaned against the wall while Interrogator Sonya gave them the briefing. He found himself bemused that here he was, conscripted to one of the most terrifying organizations in the Imperium of Man. His job was to protect the people whose job it was to find and eliminate the terrors that threaten trillions upon trillions of lives. Yet amidst this, his original plans for the night involved enough rot-gut to sedate several dozen groxes amongst a group of people whom he understood their trials, tribulations, and humor. And here he was now being briefed by a woman who most men would happily give their trigger finger for a night with AND who happened to be likely the 2nd most terrifying person in his de facto chain of command. And the Guardsmen of the group is the one leaning against a wall while the authority figure addressed them and Alaric, the thug kid from the hive was standing in a half-way decent attempt at parade rest. He did his best to hide his smirk as Sonya laid out the details and asked for questions.

"Does the Planetary-Governor KNOW we're coming? What operational support will we have available to us from either the Inquisition or Aporia itself? Equipment, guides, manpower, vehicles, etc. "

[Sarak]

Brother Nuric sighed gently, allowing himself a small smile at his own expense. He'd just walked into his modest room in the Inquisitor's Grestian manor, having just rinsed off, sweat still beading on his forehead; Jericus' calisthenics routine didn't flatten him like it had that first night, but it was still far from a stroll through the fields. Ironically, it would seem as though his life since joining the Inquisition under Felix Bannon had left him a bit 'soft'. He'd spent his life on Hraline doing heavy labour, working the land and eschewing the aid of many more modern conveniences in favour of simple tools and his own two hands; it had left him with a solidly muscled frame, intimidating if not for the friendly face accompanying it. This past year had seen a drastic cut in the amount of honest labour he'd managed - rarely able to step in for some heavy lifting before a servitor assumed a task - and he had to admit that he was not in quite the same shape as he had once been. That wasn't the only issue, however; the routine Jericus had devised was well beyond anything he'd ever experienced before, and even had he been at his peak outright muscle wouldn't cut it. Still, he was determined to persevere, and even had some small success in convincing himself he was progressing.

He knelt briefly by the bed, offering a short prayer, then rose to shut the door and retrieve a change of clothes, donning his robes overtop them. He paused a moment, then strapped his belt and gun on underneath the robe; the habit was slow to build, but most days he remembered before he left the room now. He thought on that a moment; if his change in lifestyle with the Inquisition had atrophied his frame at all, it had only strengthened his resolve. Where only months before he'd begun to question his place in the Inquisition, now he felt more determined than ever to serve Him-Upon-The-Throne through the shadowy organization.

Nuric stepped out into the hall once more, leaving the door open; he only ever shut it when changing or when asleep (he did so to protect the others from his snoring; to this day he wasn't sure if the other monks had been truthful about his raucous chainsword racket at night, or if they'd just used it as a reason for none to share a room with him). Whatever his condition, he was of the clergy first and foremost, and he wanted to be available at any time should his fellow Acolytes wish to speak (whether on matters of faith, or anything else). He checked his chrono, pleased to note that if he headed into the upper hive now he'd still likely arrive on-time for nightsong at Grestian's beautiful grand templum. He had spoken with the temple elders on a few occasions now, but was simply content to join the mass with the rest of the congregation. He began to stroll towards the landing platforms, then slowed, and stopped. He felt the increasingly familiar bulk of the .40 Talic autopistol strapped underneath his robes; Jericus's instruction had proved invaluable, and was starting to pay off; the former Guardsman had assured him however that the most impact he'd see on his ability now would come from practice. Even with the extra time he'd been spending at the range, he was far from a sharpshooter, and the time may come when there would be more resting on that autopistol's results than just Brother Nuric's satisfaction. He turned, instead heading in the direction of the range. Nightsong would have been both calming and uplifting, but Nuric served Him in another way now, through the Inquisition and not just the Adeptus Ministorum. He could spend an hour or two in practice, then take devotion in the manor's small private chapel. He'd be sure to offer to lead a service for any of the others who wished to join him; perhaps he'd seek out Alaric, and today he'd convince-

His comm signaled. He'd missed it the first time it went off. There was a summons from the Inquisitor's Interrogator, Sonya Astrazan. A pleasure to speak with, on those occasions when it wasn't business. A lovely woman who could give Ralix a run for his thrones on any number of subjects, she was quite intelligent and charming. What she was not, however, was forgiving of a tardy Acolyte. He walked through the halls towards the meeting chamber in question. Unconcerned by the presence of the Storm Troopers, he moved past the double doors, immediately making the sign of the Aquila as his eyes settled on the statue in front of him. Glancing around, he noted the absence of Lena, then as always did a quick scan of the room again; it would not be the first time that he'd missed her standing amongst the shadows.

Nuric listened attentively while the Interrogator ran through their objectives and what they knew, and listened just as patiently to his fellow Acolytes in discussion. He was growing more comfortable with this sort of procedure, but still felt a bit out of his depth, and resolved to learn as much as he could here to aid in their investigation on Aporia.

[Erulasto]

FIDELIS - HIVE GRESTIAN - INQUISITORIAL MANOR OF FELIX BANNON

Interrogator Astrazan allowed her keen gaze to sweep across the assembled Acolytes as they voiced their inquiries, and offered them a small smile.
She addressed Quilia first, with a nod. "Indeed we do. They were trawling the sub-arctic regions in the North-Eastern Hemisphere when they were last contacted. Captain Hertz advised the Administratum controllers in Aporro City that they were going to spend another couple days there before heading back to the city to unload their holds for a delivery to Captain Reynolds, a Sector-local Chartist Captain. Obviously, they never arrived. Most of the City-Ships don't venture too far North - the ice flows from the polar regions offer some unpleasant obstacles from what we are told."

The Interrogator summoned up a new holo-pict on the display; it was a timeline of tithes and assessments of significant events across the last decade or so. It seemed that Aporia was quite prosperous, and remarkably stable. Except for one small blot of proverbial red ink.

"Six years ago a Magos-Xenobiologist by the name of Yvette Carrocin arrived with a small cabal of Mechanicus personnel, and with an authoritative writ from Mars itself began construction of a deep-sea research facility. There is a plethora of creatures that ply the depths of Aporia's seas, and they came to study and catalogue them. While this itself is not concerning, Governor Klass has filed several complaints with Mechanicus oversight into Magos Carrocin's unwillingness to cooperate with annual audits. On more than one occasion in the last year she has denied entry to all outside Administratum and Astra Militarium personnel. While we are not sure if there is any corralation, this does stand out as the only true activity of note outside the usual planetary parameters."

She offers Qualia a faintly amused quirk of her brow. "We would like to minimize our impact on the local economy as much as possible. But your mandate allows the use of esoteric measures if you feel the situation warrants....and yes, Mister Kessler, Governor Klass knows you are coming. It was he who sent the request for our intervention in the first place." Her bright green eyes turn to the ex-Guardsman.

"As far as operational support goes, you will be transported to Aporia by Captain Hathaway of the Wayfarer. He claims, as always, that it was on his way and he is happy to offer whatever support he can. That being said, Inquisitor Bannon does not feel that this warrants more attention than you can provide yourselves. You are under no obligation to hide your purpose, or your loyalties and if you are in need, the Governor has agreed that he can spare a squad or two of Guardsmen from the Aporian 3rd Regiment currently stationed on Aporro City, or the services of the Adeptus Arbites on-world. Governor Klass will provide you with whatever transportation you need once you are planetside."

Interrogator Sonya dispels the holo-picts displayed. "Aporia is a three month transit, so I have already arranged for the Wayfarer's to have any additional information we have on Aporia transmitted. It will give you some light reading before you arrive."

"Anything else?" She asks.


Aporia (Agri-World)
Total Population: 3,000,000 Approximately (Aporro City: 250,000)
Tithe Grade: Exactis Prima

Aporia was settled so long ago that most records do not show a set date. Mechanicus Adepts have dated the vast city-ships of Aporia to be thousands of years old, and the STC for their construction was lost from Imperial Records. The planet functions as a quasi-feudal society, where the governing leaders are referred to as Dynastic Captains, and each one comes from an incredibly long lineage. These are the masters of the city-ships, and when one dies the oldest son or daughter ascends to take the helm - Absolute Cognatic Primogeniture Succession. A special charter exists between these Dynastic Captains and the Imperial Governor, setting down a codified legal system that allows the Dynastic Captains autonomy so long as the Governor and the Imperium as a whole get their tithes. It is up to each Dynastic Captain to orchestrate and secure trade agreements with the Chartist Merchants that travel to Aporia.

While there has occasionally been conflict between two city-ships, these are heavily penalized by their system of laws, and so much of the planet is relatively peaceful. The Imperial Guard of the Aporian Regiments (only 7 ever levied), along with the PDF spend much of their time hunting the few predatory species that inhabit the planet (such as the Ice Reavers, the Aporian Lash-Fins and the Kaolakas (both Deep, and Shallow variants). Arbitrator presence is confined to Aporro City, as each City-Ship handles discipline for crew members in-house.

[Bennosuke]

Sheepishly, Alaric Varn speaks up, stepping forward so that he can be seen by the Interrogator, "Would it be possible to gain any files or information that may be held by the Inquisition, or by the Aporian govornment, or by the Chartis Merchant regarding the Dynastic Captain, and possibly any important Mechanicus figures of the Velar's Hope? Also, would it be possible to secure some form of arrangement to meet with the local Tech Priests upon our arrival? If one of our few leads is the possible illicit behavior of one Magos Carrocin, this would likely be useful."

Alaric's face quickly turns crimson, and he makes a hasty retreat to the back of the group after his request.

Also, either given the degree of success on my last roll, and/or Alaric's background coming from a forge world, would it be possible to gain any further information regarding the Adeptus Mechanicus activity or function amongst the fleets of Aporia? Happy to make a second roll if you want

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Continuing to listen to the answer, as well as the answers of her comrades, the thought of reems of Inquisitorial briefing material somewhat ruined the idea of a three month stint to Qualia. Still, it would be good to get the void about her again, Fidelis' gravity was far too constant to be comfortable. A sly grin appeared at her face as she opened her mouth once more.

"Just one more question from me, ma'am, when do we depart?"

[Sarak]

Brother Nuric frowned at the mention of the Xenobiologist, nearing a scowl by the end of her description; the Ministorum and Mechanicus had a history of not seeing eye to eye, and the blatant disregard for checks and balances raised his suspicions even further. He mentally reigned himself in before he reached a premature verdict. This was an important investigation, as all were with the Inquisition, and Carrocin's actions did not condemn her outright; they merely put her on trial.

He looked across the table at Qualia as she spoke - he tried to skirt the room and sit opposite her whenever possible, giving her space - and nodded at her question regarding the impact that events could have on Aporia's agricultural status. It was a thought he'd shared as well, as it had been a subject for concern and debate on his own homeworld in recent years. Instability in the ecosystem on any agriworld in the Imperium was a danger not just to the world itself, but the sub-sector it provided for.

Nuric gave a slight smile as Alaric spoke up; well thought out and well articulated. It would seem as though the monk wasn't the only one maturing of late. The smile shrank as Qualia questioned their departure; the woman had spent most of her life in the void, and was clearly eager to return to it. Brother Nuric had spent the majority of his life in contact with Hraline's soil, and tended to spend more time than usual cloistered in prayer when shipborne, especially when traversing the Warp.

"Surely the writ from Mars cannot leave room for the Magos to avoid monitoring. When was the last contact and envoy to the Mechanicus station?"

[CrimsonKnight]

Though she had not shifted so much as an inch since taking her seat, Lena had a small grin of satisfaction behind the scarf she habitually wrapped over her face. A mission at last, and to somewhere that wasn't a wretched hive like Grestian. Not that she hadn't taken advantage of the few weeks of leave to wander unnoticed amongst the teeming masses, observing everything from highborn nobs trampling their lessers underfoot to Arbite block raids to shady criminal deals in disreputable warehouses and even mutant filth hiding in the shadows of the underhive. But it chafed her so like a raw boil that she was under firm instructions not to kill anyone at all without a direct order. Such was the price of her service, but it still rubbed her wrong to just ignore such acts of crime and heresy (however minor it might be). And on top of that, a blade kept in its sheath was only good for drawing rust, and her particular set of skills were no different. So yes, she was willing to admit to herself, she was more than eager to be tasked with this mission.

She listened attentively to the briefing even if a few of the names and concepts being discussed flew over her head. How could a city float on the ocean, for example? Was it a giant boat? It was something she'd had to get used to since first leaving her home, and, at least, she could understand far, far more now than on her first warp voyage. Her eyes narrowed slightly at the unsubstantiated claim of mutants from the deep seas somehow being responsible for the missing city. She considered this for a moment, then raised a gloved hand once the conversation had died down and spoke up in not-quite-perfect Gothic.

"A question. These deep mutants, has there been any previous sightings of them before in the records? Or if not that, any local stories or legends on Aporia as such that is similar?"

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir's plans for the afternoon had been relatively straightforward. He'd been meaning to ask Alaric or Nuric if either of them knew how to play Regicide, and if not, somehow convince them to learn so he'd have someone to play with. So he'd been out in the city searching for both a new board of suitably fine craftsmanship, as well as keeping an eye out for a nice bottle of amesac to entice his newfound friends with. When his comm-link had alerted him to the meeting, he'd actually been looking at an anthology of Ciaphas Cain: Hero of the Imperium holo-vids to perhaps purchase as a gift for Jericus. With a sigh, he'd hastily left to find quick transportation back to the manor, making a mental footnote to return for the pict-collection later.

Arriving at the meeting, the scrawny scholar slinks in and takes a seat at the table, nodding in quiet respect to the Interrogator. He knows she's not one to trifle with, and he maintains proper decorum and etiquette around her. And humility, since he knows that she's one of the individuals who probably had a say in whether or not he was Excommunicated like the rest of his academic peers had been just a few short months ago. And all it would likely take is one misunderstood or arrogant comment, and she could just gesture at a stormtrooper and...

Ralix suppresses a shudder, casting his gaze downward. He's wearing his Administratum robes, clad in the guise of a lowly scribe - he left his fur-lined greatcoat back in his quarters, not wanting to attract too much attention to himself by wearing the garb of either military or aristocratic rank. His stub revolver (http://www.taurusarmed.net/forums/attachments/taurus-revolvers/35901d1346815357-model-450-wood-grips-almost-judge-public-defender-tracker-series-compact-frame-taurus-judge-grips-001.jpg), a Viperbite HK-47 with real wood grips, is tucked in his robes in comfortable holster. Another pocket holds his great uncle's copy of the Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer, always kept on hand as both a small good luck charm and for use as handy reference material. His backpack rests on the floor next to his chair, holding his data-slate, a pouch of thrones, his auto-quill, and a few other odds and ends. And a small brass Aquila hangs from his neck, tucked into his robes and out of view from all but the most perceptive or nosy of observers.

After listening to the information provided and his comrade's inquiries, Ralix eventually steeples his fingers and leans forward a bit, frowning in thought. He finally unfolds his hands, and leans back in his chair, raising a hand to non-verbally ask for a turn in speaking.

"If I may?" he interjects as there's a lull in the conversation. "I have a few questions..."

He changes his posture to lean forward again, holding aloft a hand for gesticulation as he begins to essentially think out loud. "First of all, how often does the Imperial Guard gather its tithe, or the PDF hold recruitment? During the last mustering or the last few recruitment drives, was there a noticeable uptick in mutations among potential recruits, or other increases in reports of corruption among the populace?""

He frowns. "My second question... When did the Black Ships last visit the world? Do their records show any increases in Psyker numbers among the populace in the last generation or two?"

"And of course, have there been any other other Inquisitorial investigations on the planet in the last few years... that we're allowed to know about, of course?" he asks, cracking a sheepish smile as he endeavors not to step beyond his bounds.

The sophisticated scholar then leans back in his chair again, looking thoughtful. "Sailors, be they of the stars or the terrestrial seas, are oft a superstitious sort. Often its relatively minor quirks or beliefs, such as viewing a certain species of bird or fish as good or bad luck, or new allowing women aboard their modest little fishing boat lest it bring misfortune or certain doom. But... on some worlds, those who spend much of their time at sea can sometimes pick up more troublesome habits or beliefs. Scrimshaw amulets, engraved bone charms to ward off misfortune while at sea... or to obtain the favor of the seas themselves, perhaps. The longer a crew is away from port and civilization, the more likely they are to fall deeper into superstition... and stray from the solid foundation of Imperial faith and creed." He scowls. "A ship the size of a city... lost at sea, without contact with the rest of civilization to keep the population anchored? Yes, nautical superstition and ritualism could potential run rampant. And lead to all manner of madness and corruption..."

He looks down, idly tilting his head from side to side. "Though I must wonder if the castaways that were found are survivors who fled the ship, lest they fall into corruption as well, or perhaps exiles who began to drift into madness while the rest of the populace tried to hold firm..."


Scholastic Lore (Legend) to know of any legends in the sector regarding sea monsters or "Deep Ones": [roll0] vs 46
Scholastic Lore (Occult) to know more about nautical occultism, and whether scrimshaw charms or seafaring ritualism might be used to ward off sea monsters or mutation or other strange things... or invoke it: [roll1] vs 46
Forbidden Lore (Heresy) to perhaps know where nautical superstition begins to stray from folk belief into outright heresy, such as inviting mutation or invoking Chaos for protection or fortune at sea: [roll2] vs 46

[Erulasto]

FIDELIS - HIVE GRESTIAN - INQUISITORIAL MANOR OF FELIX BANNON

Astrazan fixes her keen gaze on Alaric for several long heartbeats, seeming to be appraising the young man with an unreadable expression on her face. After a moment, she allows herself a small smirk.

"We will make a proper Throne Agent of you yet, Mister Varn. All Inquisitorial files within your clearance level will be made available to you. Most of the Tech Adepts who dwell on Aporia - and are not part of Magos Carracin's entourage, mind you - dwell in Aporro City and serve at the whim of the Governor. If you wish the make inroads with the Adeptus Mechanicus, then that would be a good place to start. I will send a message to Governor Klass indicating your desire to set up a meeting, but ultimately it will be up to you to press the matter." The Interrogator chuckles; after all, she's not going to do their job for them.

"And no, Brother Nuric. The writ from Mars does not give them leave to avoid monitoring. However, the consensus of late has been of the mind that there are more important matters at hand than tracking down a belligerent Magos-Xenobiologist. Mind you, if during your visit you can make the time for a visit it would not hurt to remind the good Magos of their obligations. They send a vessel to Aporro City bi-annually for supplies, but beyond that, their last communication was just over a year ago."

Interrogator Astrazan nods to Ralix, a flicker of respect in her eye as she presents a hand in an idle gesture to continue. "By all means, Master Zamir. Ask away...."

"Aporia - in the entirety of it's history within the Imperium - has only ever raised seven full regiments of Imperial Guardsmen. Of these, all but one are off-world. I believe most of them have been commandeered by Lord-Marshal Yagi to put down the Recidivists on Logofer VI. The primary tithe was long ago established by the Administratum to be wholly food-stuff. The economy and lack of habitable land has always hindered the population growth required to field significant military forces. Among them, there was next to no mutation discovered. The planets purity has always been sufficiently beyond reproach."

Astrazan draws a different dataslate from a small pile on the table, and glances at it for a half-breath. "The last Black Ship was there, it seems, just over two hundred years ago. Records indicate that Aporia is typically very...blunt...when it comes to Psychic manifestations among the population. The ships only took three on their last visit, and all three were consigned to the Astropathic Choir. Consider yourselves blessed by the Throne...." Sonya smirks. "This is the first Inquisitorial visit the planet has had in over eight centuries. You are making history!"

Sonya nods knowingly at Ralix. "You are correct, Master Zamir. The Ecclesiarchy maintains a temple on each of the city-ships, though the local incarnation of the God-Emperor was originally painted under the guise of a Sea God....and according to the interview with the castaways? It was implied heavily that they were securing a remote augur buoy when they claim the mutants took over. When they returned, they barely fled with their lives."
"And no, Lena." The red-haired woman shakes her head. "This is an entirely new phenomenon. No local legends about mutants, though there are plenty of cautionary tales about the sea-predators that call the deep waters of Aporia home."


Scholastic Lore (Legend): Aside from part-reptile, part-insect beasts that hunt the ice flows to the polar regions called Ice Reavers, and the man-eating cephalopod's called Aporian Lash-Fins there are no real creatures that consistently show up in legends. Though there is a legend about a black star that fell from the sky millennia ago and splashed into the sea. It was apparently a bad omen, as two city-ships were lost to warfare shortly after. The legend claims both ships fought over possession of the star.
Scholastic Lore (Occult): The Emperor is viewed on Aporia as a Sea God. He's the Calmer of Waters and they believe their faith is strong, as there is so rarely storms or inclement weather. Each native of Aporia carries a small token of devotion - a small fish carved from the occasional floating coral network, and it's considered good luck to wear the teeth of the Aporian Lash-Fin on a necklace. It wards off ill-omens.
Forbidden Lore (Heresy): The faith is relatively pure, though there was a sect that existed about eight hundred years ago (around the time of the last Inquisitorial visit) that believed that there was a sunked city deep below the sea where the Emperor actually lived and that if they found his deep-sea palace they would be granted immortality in his realm.


Finally, Sonya scratched her chin with a chuckle. "Qualia, you all may leave as soon as you are prepared. The shuttle should be ready for you now, and I know Captain Hathaway finished loading his last shipment of amasec on-board not too long ago. He even gave me a spare bottle."

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

The excitement of departure began to take Qualia's attention, although she tried her best to stay on target with the briefing. She appreciated the questions her compatriates asked, covering angles she wouldn't have thought of. That was, until Ralix starting implying that a warship, a vessel of the Emperor's judgement and retribution, was but a 12 month tour away from falling. He had no understanding of the intricate operations involved, the scales of people and work going on, that even a small frigate was closer to a city than whatever land-spire he called home. She'd seen ships that had fallen from the Emperor's guidance, and it wasn't rampant superstition, it was the ruinous powers infiltrating through whatever cracks might appear in a vessels Gellar field.

Still, this was not the time to rebuke him, and she left her disapproval at a slight narrowing of her eyes, before turning her attention back to the Interrogator. Maybe three months aboard the Wayfarer would enlighten him.

Understood, ma'am. I can't speak for the others, but I can be aboard shuttle before the hour is out.

[Bennosuke]

"Thank you Interrogator", Alaric practically squeaks from the back, after his questions are answered. He keeps his eyes to the floor, his face still glowing red.

[Sarak]

Listening to his fellow Acolytes in conference around him, Brother Nuric offered up a silent prayer to the God-Emperor. He had yet to truly suss out the depth of faith in each of them, but at the very least they seemed committed to doing His work in the Inquisition. The depth of detail and planning was reassuring, each Acolyte contributing and seeming to see the issue from a different angle and bringing their own expertise to bear on the matter. While he himself was still getting his bearings in his new unsheltered life, he drew comfort from the capable comrades he'd found.

Nuric nodded in agreement with Qualia's comment on departure, thinking of his own meager belongings; nearly everything he owned was either on his person, or in a bag under his bed, ready to go. The benefits of an ascetic lifestyle, he supposed. While he had no love of void- or Warp-travel, he would do as he must to reach their destination; there might be souls in need of saving, or barring that, cleansing.

[Lycan 01]

Ralix's eyes flicker a bit, glancing back and forth at nothing as he makes mental notes and cross-references. "Frozen North... Ad-Mech research... Emperor viewed as a sea-god... yes..." he murmurs mostly to himself, before snapping back to reality.

Cracking a wry little smile at the Interrogator. "Yes, Alaric is quite astute. He learns fast, though I'm still struggling to teach him proper table manners and dinner etiquette," he muses with an idle wave of his hand, casting a playful look towards the young Hive thug.

He then leans back in his seat, folding his hands together and once more looking serious and astute. "But back to the matters at hand. You mentioned a few things of interest there. Where is this Adeptus Mechanicus research facility? Besides the bottom of the ocean, I mean. Have they made its location known, or is it considered need-to-know among more esteemed servants of the Omnissiah?" he idly inquires. "I'm curious to know the proximity between the research base and our missing ship's last location. Unconnected, more than likely, but mayhaps the Mechanicus researchers may have picked up some clues or leads on their sensors..."

He then raises an eyebrow. "You mentioned the ship being last seen in the Northern regions, below the arctic circle? Curious. I've stumbled across Aporia before in some of my studies, and I recall it have a few species of hostile wildlife. I know one species of creatures... insectoid in nature, as I recall... tends to inhabit the frozen northern regions. Ice Reavers, I believe they're called. I'll see if I can learn more about them before we make landfall or upon arrival, in case there's any connection..."

Ralix pauses a moment, before glancing around at his comrades. "By the way, do yourselves a favor and find some sort of fish necklace or bracelet or other charm as soon as we arrive on the planet. Preferably one made of coral. It's a show of devotion on Aporia, since the Emperor is viewed as a sea god. If we try to emulate some of their customs as a show of respect, it may make our dealings with the natives somewhat more fluid and fruitful..." he thinks aloud.

He then looks back at the Interrogator, and tilts his head thoughtfully. "Two more questions, ma'am. First, what is the current political climate on Aporia? According to some old legends on the planet, city-ships have been lost before, though they supposedly destroyed each other in pursuit of something rather than mysteriously disappearing. Have their been any known conflicts or rivalries that may have led to foul play between vessels? And my second question... well...."

"I'm sure it's far beyond anything we're authorized to know, but..." he says cautiously, tilting his head to the other side. "May we inquire as to why the Inquisition visited Aporia some eight centuries ago? Or which Ordo oversaw the operation?" he asks meekly, trying not to push too hard for information, yet not wanting to miss potential leads.

[Erulasto]

FIDELIS – HIVE GRESTIAN – INQUISITORIAL MANOR OF FELIX BANNON

The Interrogator simply smirks at Ralix’s assessment of the youthful scum, and leans her hip against the heavy table, arms crossing lazily across her chest.

”The Deep Sea facility, which records name AP-006A…” She scoffs at the unimaginative name; leave it to the Machine-God’s servants to give it a name as dull as that. ”…its location is near the planetary equator. It rests on the cusp of an undersea crevasse called Schaffer’s Rift, and while Velar’s Hope does usually fish in and around the area, there isn’t any known correlation between their assumed trajectory and the facility in the last year. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to inquire.” She shrugs noncommittally.

Interrogator Astrazan listened to Ralix’ rambling ideas and thought process with a small – if slightly curt – smile.

”To answer your first question, Master Zamir, the political climate has been remarkably stable. Governor Klass is well-liked among the Dynastic-Captains. Aside from tensions with the Mechanicus enclave, there has been no instability in a long, long time.”

The final question garners a narrowing of her eyes and a close, intense scrutiny of Ralix, lips pursing. ”Master Zamir. That knowledge is even above my clearance. It may be in your best interest to forget that line of questioning entirely.”

Astrazan turned her gaze back to the assembled Acolytes.

”You’d best gather your gear and head to the landing pad. Any further information you required can be gathered while you’re en route to Aporia.”

The Interrogator waved her hand dismissively before turning back to the table and the teeming pile of dataslates scattered across its surface.




_______xXx_______



FIDELIS – HIVE GRESTIAN – PRIVATE LANDING PLATFORM

Having gathered what gear you sought to bring on your voyage, the stepped through the pressurized doors that led out onto the private landing platform for Inquisitor Bannon’s manor.

It was several kilometers high, and the air was thin enough that it felt somewhat like the breath was being sucked from your lungs, and sitting upon the wide, circular pad – suspended high over the neighboring spires – was a sleek-looking Aquila Lander.

Engines idling, the roar was still quite loud.

Stepping down the gangplank was a paunchy man with a handsome face and sandy blond hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. His warm brown eyes twinkled as he watched you approach, and his grin split the well-groomed handlebar mustache and neatly trimmed beard. He wore high-quality clothes: a bright cerulean blue shirt with ruffled lace at the collar and a fashionable black leather overcoat with blue velvet lining.

Captain Jonah Hathaway had come to greet you personally.

”Welcome, my friends! We’re all ready for you. Please, stow your gear and we can be off! I’ll have you join me in the stateroom for some amasec once you’re settled, yes?” The Captain shouted over the idling engines of the Lander, gesturing up to the sky that faded from the light of the fading sun, to the star-speckled ink of the void beyond.

”We’re fueled, stocked and ready to depart!”

[Sarak]

The cold air swept into the chamber as the pressurized doors opened, paining him less than they had just a few short months ago. Nuric had taken to spending more time in the hive and on the outer decks of the manor, and the physical effect of it was less shocking. The mental acclimatization was a bit slower in coming. He'd spent nearly his entire life before the Inquisition in contact with Hraline's soil, and now here he was on a hive several kilometers up from it, and about to put even more distance between them. The thought did not yet sit well with him.

Still, at least their guide seemed reliable. Captain Hathaway seemed to him a good, honest citizen of solid faith, exactly the sort of man he'd expect to serve His Inquisition. Of course, that was not always the case, as his own cell of Acolytes was a prime example of. An eclectic mix of individuals picked up from a variety of situations, many of whom at first glance he himself would have been less inclined to recruit and more likely to condemn; at least, the Brother Nuric of a year ago would have, unaware of the Inquisition's modus operandi. The Holy Ordos of the Emperor's Inquisition, Nuric thought wryly, the Imperium's most opportunistic recruitment program. Enigmatic and unyielding, safeguarding Mankind from threats it couldn't and shouldn't know about. His mind flashed back at that thought to the ire the Interrogator had displayed when rebuking Ralix. He liked the man, and he seemed able to carry on an intelligent discussion about any subject that Nuric could conjure and a hundred others to boot; it was easy to forget that that same intellect had led him astray, and nearly to ruin.

He shook the dark thoughts away - it was merely his anxiety at their impending flight - and strode quickly for the Lander, greeting the Captain briefly as he passed. He reached up and patted the familiar outline of his carved Aquila resting on his chest, near his heart. The sooner they reached orbit, the sooner he could settle into his room and devotion.

[Bennosuke]

Alaric made his way up the steep climb to the landing platform, trundling two large and obviously heavy cases with him. One was clearly a weapon locker, the other a fine plasteel suitcase that was painted in lilac and aqua and was clearly stolen from some noble.

When Alaric made it up the platform, he paused to marvel at the Lander, grinning foolishly at the beautiful sight. Alaric would make is his way to Captain Hathaway and offer him a hearty handshake. “Thank you Captain!” Alaric calls over the whine of the ship’s engine, “Are we taking this up to the Wayfarer?” The question was colored by an almost childish excitement from the ex-gangster, and it was clear Alaric looked to Captain Hathaway with more than a little respect.

[Lycan 01]

Ralix nods along thoughtfully as the Interrogator answers his inquiries. However, as her demeanor turns more icy towards the end, he straightens his posture a bit. And when she gives him the stern warning, he replies with a meek little smile. "Consider it forgotten," he replies humbly, knowing full well when certain topics need to best be left buried. Hopefully the others take notice that he's not arguing or trying to push the subject, but he's already resigned himself to the fact that most of the team probably thinks him to be dangerously curious...

--------

A short while later, Ralix strides towards the landing pad with a full backpack slung over his shoulder. He's now clad in his black greatcoat, buckled securely and concealing his Administratum robes, while the sable fur lining of the collar frames his face and giving him a much more regal appearance befitting his noble origins. As he walks towards the the Aquila lander, he glances around at his team. A gallery of individuals from all walks of life, some more devout and brave, others more cunning and resourceful. Yes, an interesting team they make... assuming they don't all eventually end up killing each other for one reason or another.

As they walk together, he glances down at Alaric's uncharacteristic luggage. He raises an eyebrow. "You know, that looks like a suitcase I once had, before it mysteriously disappeared..." he muses offhandedly, before giving the young scoundrel a knowing smirk. He then returns his attention to the matter at hand...

Ralix unslings his suitcase as they approach the Rogue Trader, smiling warmly. He gives a nod of respect, and extends a hand for a firm shake. "It's good to see you in such fine health and spirits, Captain," the nobleman says with refined etiquette and social poise learned since birth. "Always a pleasure. The offer of amesac is hard to turn down, doubly so when it's with such fine company. Perhaps a round or two of Regicide to go with it?" he asks with a wry smirk.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Qualia stood at the end of the briefing, a gentle nod in the direction of the Interrogator, before heading back to her quarters. Grabbing her bag and donning her weapon belt, she quickly left again, her entire life packed into a single carry-all. Heading back out, she arrived at the landing pad, the proud Aquila lander sat pride of place amongst the flat surface. It took her a few steps to even realise the lower pressure and the heat of the engines, although it did little to slow her down. Qualia couldn't resist running the back of her hand across the exterior plates, a small litany of safe transit whispered under her breath, before climbing the onboarding ramp.

"My Captain, thank you for taking us. Safe travels to us all."

She spoke without stopping, understanding the lander burned precious fuel the whole while they dawdled, and found a suitable seat inside the harsh metal lander. Sliding her bag under the seat, she engaged the safety harnesses and readied herself for the ride.

[Bennosuke]

As they walk together, he glances down at Alaric's uncharacteristic luggage. He raises an eyebrow. "You know, that looks like a suitcase I once had, before it mysteriously disappeared..." he muses offhandedly, before giving the young scoundrel a knowing smirk. He then returns his attention to the matter at hand...

Alaric looks down at the lilac suitcase and grins, thinking back on the older woman it was stolen from. “Figures these would be your colors,” he says the grin spreading from ear to ear. Then with mock concern, “But just to be clear my good friend, that’s not how I feel about you.”

[Erulasto]

FIDELIS – HIVE GRESTIAN – PRIVATE LANDING PLATFORM

Captain Hathaway’s handshake was…robust…with strength enough in his paunchy frame to give Alaric a good wobble from its forcefulness.

”Aye, my lad! That we are!” He grinned a bit and leaned in conspiratorially and winked. ”If you want, you can sit in the cockpit with the pilot.” The Captain bellowed a laugh, and gave Alaric a solid clap on the back. He paused when Nuric approached the gangplank, and gave him a respectful bow before making the sign of the Aquila.

”Brother Nuric. Welcome aboard. It’s my honour to carry a member of His Temple.” When the Cleric had passed and Hathaway saw Qualia approach, he smiled. ”Good day to you, lady Mithras. It is ever my pleasure to serve His Inquisition.”

The Assassin and the Guardsman – Lena and Jericus – boarded without much fanfare. A nod and a word of greeting passed from Captain Hathaway to both. Once they were safely aboard and secured, Hathaway turned his gaze to Alaric and Ralix, the last two stragglers to board.

”Master Zamir, a pleasure as always. I have a vintage bottle: an ’84 Viccarian that I’m sure you’d appreciate while I summarily lose both of those games.” Captain Hathaway waggles his bushy eyebrows with a grin, and gesture towards the waiting Lander.

”Please gentlemen. We’re burning promethium.” Ever the gentile Captain, Jonah Hathaway waited for the rest of the Acolytes to get strapped in before boarding himself and sealing the Lander. With a great hiss of pneumatic arms, the gangplank withdrew and the hatch sealed.

He strapped himself in, and slapped the vox alarm to let the pilot know it was time to depart.

The engines roared to life, deafening the landing pad as the Lander began its ascent. Through the small viewing ports the Acolytes could see the dark metal spires of Hive Grestian getting smaller as the craft took them up towards the atmosphere. In the far distance, like mountains hovering on the horizon, the Acolytes could see the silhouettes of the other great Hives reaching up like monolithic monuments to the Glory of the Imperium.

The turbulence started when they hit the sparse cloud cover, rocking the craft violently as it tore itself free of Fidelis’ gravity well.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped and there was a tranquil stillness that settled upon the cabin of the Lander as they maneuvered through the void towards the great bulk of the Wayfarer.

The Wayfarer is a Vagabond-class Merchant Trader. With a crew of around eighteen thousand it reaches around two kilometers long, and almost half a kilometer abeam. The hull was a matte gunmetal grey, and bore very little in the way of ornamentation. The prow was modeled after the great vessels of the Imperial Navy, and was coloured a bright blue and edged with gold – it was the only real decoration on the ship’s exterior. A pair of macro batteries were the ships primary armament though the hull was festooned with small point-defense turrets.

Once inside the vessels hangar – a converted cargo hold – the void shields that kept the atmosphere contained shimmered back into effect with a flowing gradient of purples and blacks. Through the bulkheads, you could feel the thrum of the engines as they began spooling up to maneuver the Wayfarer out of Fidelis’ orbit and to a safe distance to begin the transit into the empyrean.

Once you were all disembarked from the Aquila Lander, Captain Hathaway offered a proud grin. ”Please, excuse me. I must attend to the bridge to ensure all is underway. Allow me to introduce you to Commander Ascobel Roth, second in command of the Wayfarer and my Adjutant.”

A slim woman with sharp features framed by bright white-blonde wave hair. The bangs hung loose, framing her features while the rest was gathered back into a tight high-ponytail. Above sharp cheekbones, flinty blue eyes positively raked across the assembled Acolytes. Commander Roth was in a pressed uniform, seemingly more at home on the regimented hierarchy of a Naval vessel than on that of a Chartist Merchant vessel.

”Ascobel here will show you all to your quarters. Oh, and don’t worry about your luggage. I’ll have some deck hands bring them up.” Hathaway shouted, even as he strode purposefully across the hangar and into a lift to make his way to the bridge.

Once he was gone, Commander Roth stood before the Acolytes.

”Welcome aboard. Please, if you will, follow me?”

You are each granted a stateroom on the command deck, alongside many of the other officers of the vessel – though a respectable distance away, in a hall that is usually assigned to visiting dignitaries or other guests. Each stateroom is a reasonable size, with enough space for a comfortable bed, desk and computer access terminal. A small refresher is available to each room, though it was tight. There would be space enough for most of your belongings.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

The journey to orbit wasn't the smoothest Qualia had ever experienced, although ascents from asteroids were hard to beat, but simultaneously it wasn't the roughest. Looking about, Qualia searched for the telltale signs of void sickness, although if anyone had succumed, they did a fine job of hiding it. The craft broke atmosphere, Qualia watching the blues and greens of the planet fade to the relaxing black of the void, and the short shuttle to the waiting transport finished near soon as it started.

The vessel hove into view. During her time, she'd heard of the Vagabond class several times, chartist captains or Rogue Traders who had overstepped their luck and needed help. Still, she'd never actually seen one, and was impressed with the size and scale, even if the colour scheme was lacking somewhat.

As the Aquila set down, Qualia unbuckled and grabbed her gear, running her free hand along the inner hull while whispering a litany of thanks. She didn't know if or when she'd be using that particular lander again, and it was always worth keeping them onside.

With the introduction of Commander Roth, Qualia felt herself instinctively straightening up, bringing herself to a parade position. She followed the Commander as she led the group to their rooms, making brief conversation as they went. Her bag was still in her hand, presenting as ready for assignment, not the only habit to die hard

"Of course, ma'am, err, Commander, apologies. If you don't mind my asking, how did you end up on this vessel?"

-----

Arriving at her temporary quarters, Qualia was somewhat boggled at the luxury afforded. On a planet, it almost made sense, but aboard a starship, this waste of space seemed almost beyond reason. However, this was someone elses vessel, and if he chose to use the space for impressing people rather than armouring the command staff, that was his call. Placing her bag at the foot of the bed, she checked the computer terminal to see if the additional information from her employers had been forwarded over.

[ArendK]

Jericus sat back as the brains of the operation tossed their questions towards the Interrogator. He listened, but added nothing more than a slight smirk of amusement of understanding when Ralix hit upon a sensitive topic. As expected, something was amiss, but Jericus wasn't going to push the matter.

It took Jericus less than 2 minutes to return to his quarters, grab his rucksack, put in the few items he'd pulled out over the course of his stay, and be ready to gather with the others; the boarding process was (to Jericus' relief) without incident for himself and Lena, though several of the others didn't receive the same luck. It was an impressive ship. Alaric's rather unique pairing of baggage looked strangely out of place as it was loaded, and Jericus made a mental note to himself to ask the young man if the weapons locker was just re-purposed or actually held what it should. Additional firepower was always handy, and if the kid was at least halfway as decent at "tactical acquisition" as he appeared to be, that can be an invaluable asset on the battlefield.

Passing Commander Roth on the landing deck was interesting as Jericus actually looked her over. Likely a former Imperial Navy officer, she was either going to be over the edge hard-nosed or very easy going in spite of her demeanor. A Rogue Traders ship was very different in culture from a Navy officers fleet (unless her and the Captain took pains to make that culture more Navy-like, which wasn't a happy thought). Her bangs struck Jericus as odd; maybe it was a Navy thing, but hair anywhere it could even remotely get in the way of eyesight was against most regulations he was familiar with.

Jericus tossed his ruck onto his bed in his room and took a quick survey. Nothing elaborate, but private enough. He smiled at the irony of the evenings turn of events. His plan had been to go to the Hive and drink with his fellow Guardsmen and PDF members, then the Interrogator sent them the missive.

Now? He was preparing to do the same thing, only drinking amasec that cost more Thrones than most of the soldiers earned in a standard year combined with people generally considered the most frightening in the sector. The Emperor works in mysterious ways...

[Lycan 01]

Ralix - Transit to Wayfarer

Ralix returns the Rogue Trader's offer with an eager grin, before stepping aboard.

The scholar buckles himself into his seat on the Lander without much effort or delay. He'd traveled the void several times, seeking new worlds and academic offers across the sector. It wasn't a pleasant experience, but he certainly wasn't prone to void sickness. Not anymore, at least. Qualia may notice Ralix grimace a bit as his small frame is rattled around in his seat as they head skyward, but at least he doesn't turn green and get violently ill like she is probably expecting. (Or hoping for.)

Once they reach the Wayfarer, Ralix is quick to step out into the hangar, tightening the buckles of his jacket and suppressing a shiver. Space was always cold for him. He'd grown up in relative luxury and controlled environments, where the temperatures were always controlled. On voidships, the warmth was always fleeting, subtly sucked away by the cold stellar emptiness. Unless one was near the engine sectors of course, but why would one wish to deal with all those grumpy Techpriests?

When they're introduced to Commander Roth, Ralix straightens his posture a bit and keeps his mouth shut. As much as he'd like to make a flattering remark, he's well aware that any attempt at charm or wit will probably result in him having a very bad time. So instead he keeps it limited to a pleasant little smile, a small nod, and a courteous, "Yes Commander."

Arriving at his room, the scholar quickly settles in, unpacking his spare clothes and auto-quill and various other knick-knacks. He takes a moment to unpack his Regicide board - a nice wood-and-marble set - before checking to make sure his Uplifting Primer is safely in his jacket, and his revolver is locked away in his desk. He's well aware that carrying a firearm on a voidship is strictly prohibited, and once again, he'd rather not have a very bad time with the Commander.

Once he's settled in, Ralix takes a seat at his desk and begins to set up the Regicide board. He leaves his door open, as an invitation to any Acolytes who wish to drop in and say hello...

[Bennosuke]

Similar to Ralix, Alaric lets his interest in the drink, the games, and the invitation to the cockpit.

In fact, after stowing his belongings on the Lander, Alaric makes his way to the cockpit, and during the ride up to the Wayfarer, begins to ask a series of surprisingly astute questions; perhaps with too much pointing and near button pressing.

Once on the Wayfarer, Alaric makes sure to introduce himself to Commander Roth, though her formal attire and presentation cause a bit of reservation.

After setting up his personal quarters, Alaric makes his way to Ralix’ room. Letting himself lazily into the chair across from the Adept, Alaric offers a big grin and says, “I guess I’ll let you kick my butt once or twice before we go find Captain Hathaway again.” He then points at one of the larger pieces on the board and says, “Remind me what that one does again.”

[CrimsonKnight]

Despite their abrupt departure, it had taken Lena only a few minutes to pack the handful of possessions in her room into a single battered bag. Spare clothing (not that she personally cared if she wore the same outfit until it was falling off, but she recognized the need for the ability to change her appearance when required or something clean and presentable if she was forced to attend some tedious social function even if only as a silent bodyguard), some extra blades beyond the half-dozen she normally kept strapped to her body or hidden up her sleeves and boots, an audio slate of Moritat catechisms to aid her training, and a handful of mementos from her home world. The latter included the carved stones from the small personal shrine to the Blazing Lord that she kept in her quarters. While she knew that it was considered a mild (but permitted) deviance to worship that variation of the God-Emperor and not the actual blessed figure himself (even if she did genuinely believe in the Clerics that they were one and the same), it was the one comfort of her home she kept.

Lena was quiet on the shuttle ride up. She had not expected the ship's captain himself to come down for him, and as was usually the case with high-ranking Imperium officials when she could get away with it, she clammed up lest she say something embarrassing and bring unwanted attention on herself. Fortunately, the man barely gave her a nod which she respectfully returned before returning to conversing with the other acolytes. Ironically, the actual shuttle ride itself was much easier for her to deal with. Despite the small primitive part of her mind that still screamed at such impossibilities, she'd long since gotten used to just treating the "technology" that made it possible as magic and moved on with her routine without dwelling on the subject.

The ship, of course, was another such technological marvel, yet Lena was too busy scanning the hanger bay and eyeballing the personnel moving about to really notice or care about it. It wasn't until they'd been taken to their quarters that she began to relax. The room she had been provided was oddly annoying for her. For someone used to cramming into a tiny cell that was barely large enough to spread her arms in without hitting one or more walls, it was almost decadent to have a room this large. Even after she'd unpacked her few belongings, most of the space was still bare. Yet, it was still just small enough that she couldn't use it for her normal training routine. Practicing a kata in here would just end with her either bouncing off the ceiling or breaking the desk, refresher, or terminal. She exited her room to see if the Commander was still around, and spotted her conversing with Qualia.

"Excuse me, ma'am? Is there a storage room or bay nearby that I can train in? Preferably one that is not of being using normally?"

That last part was important to her, she did not want a lecture for unintentionally terrifying some poor deckhand just trying to check a panel while she was in the middle of practicing a killing strike into thinking she was trying to brutally murder him. Or rather, she did not want another such lecture, the Interrogator could be quite intimidating when she put her mind to it.

[Sarak]

The conversation faded to a background hum as Nuric focused more and more on the roar of the engines; at the Captain's mention of the fuel, he began reciting verse in his head. He preferred the familiar litanies, learned by rote throughout his life, over dwelling on thoughts of their small craft. He'd come a long way from the weathered but naive monk he'd been, but had yet to reach a level of comfort on flying craft. He'd not been sick since that first day, but he'd come close. It wasn't a problem of the motion or the pilot, but the craft themselves; devices maintained by Tech-Priests who often barely skirted blasphemy in their reverence of their charges. As the turbulence calmed, he felt no better, knowing that they had reached the void beyond the atmosphere. A quick glance out a viewport offered little solace; the Wayfarer seemed a solid enough vessel, though lacking in iconography and symbols of worship. Perhaps he'd offer a few suggestions to the Captain, should the topic come up.

The lander settled onto the deck, settling Nuric's mild discomfort with it. He remained in his seat, eyes closed, until he'd finished his litanies; it simply wouldn't do to break off mid-verse. He rose, taking his bag with him, and disembarked in time to hear Captain Hathaway hand them off to his Adjutant. Roth seemed every inch the military woman, but of a totally different breed than Jericus. There was rigid discipline there, and unlike the former Guardsman she didn't give the impression that that would change on her off-hours. He followed her with the rest of his comrades, reaching a respectable stateroom of his own. He unpacked his few changes of clothing and stowed his pistol. Stepping out again, he looked to Ralix's door only to see young Alaric stroll in and sit opposite the scholar, cocky grin on his face. He smiled himself, and retreated a few paces. He'd played a hooded match against Ralix only a few days prior, and been trounced. He'd be curious to see a match between the academic and the biker, once the youth had a bit of practice; the young man was quite sharp himself, though was still mastering the process of thought-before-action. Perhaps the game would help teach him patience.

Overhearing Lena's question to Commander Roth, he considered retrieving his pistol and following through on his original plans; his groupings were decent with the autopistol, but he was no sharpshooter yet. He didn't want to intrude on his fellow Acolyte's own regimen, however, and he'd noticed that the young woman was very respectful of him yet uncomfortable; it was an attitude he was all too familiar with, but even more understanding of since discovering his odd nature. In other circumstances he'd offer to share the space and bridge that gap; for now, remembering the all-too-near void beyond the ship's hull, he'd remain in his stateroom. He walked back into his room, leaving the door open, and began setting up his small shrine at the back wall for supplication. He'd join Captain Hathaway with the others for a drink afterwards, perhaps.

[Erulasto]

THE WAYFARER – FIDELIS SYSTEM

The Commander allowed herself a moment to peer at each of the Acolytes with a piercing gaze – taking her own personal measure of each of them, though her face did not bely any judgement on her part. Simply a curious acceptance and curt acknowledgement.

When they arrived in the hallway with the appointed staterooms, Commander Roth stopped at each in turn and offered the mag-lock key that would secure their quarters to each of the Acolytes when they had reached their assigned chambers. Her stride was purposeful, and she carried with her the weight of Naval traditions driven into her from a very young ago.

Commander Roth glanced at Qualia out of the corner of her eye at the pointed question, and her stern countenance broke in an uncharacteristic smile.

”The same way you did, Sub-Lieutenant. Master Bannon. I was a tactical officer on the Templar’s Verdict. It was a Lunar class. A fine ship…” She paused a moment as a shadow of something unspeakable passed over her expression and she sighed heavily. “The Gellar Fields failed during a transit through the Warp, and we managed to transition back to real-space quickly enough that we thought the Emperor had offered us his protection. Something came back with us……” Again, she pauses as if trying to decide how, or if, she was going to continue.

In the end, she shakes her head rather curtly. ”Half the crew were consumed with madness and the ship became a battleground. We won, and managed to bring the Verdict limping back to Imperial space. The Admiral of the Battlefleet decided the ship had been compromised, and opted to scuttle the vessel with all hands aboard. Inquisitor Bannon intervened, and the command staff that survived – all six of us – were appointed into various positions to help the Inquisitor however he may need. In my case? Captain Hathaway needed a first-officer with some tactical experience, and I was happy to return to the Void.” There was a finality in her statement that seemed to imply she had no further wish to discuss the matter, though she didn’t outright say anything of the sort.

When Lena approached Qualia and Commander Roth, the latter turned her attention away from the Psyker with a small smile.

”Miss Lena, how can I help you?”

She listened to the request thoughtfully, before nodding slowly.

”We have an empty room available, yes. It’s a simple storage room for extra supplies used for the various staterooms, though it hasn’t been used in a couple years. It should suit your purposes just fine. It’s down the hall…take the first left and sixth door on the right. It has no lock, unfortunately, so I hope that is no issue.” The Officer gestures in the general direction of the unused storage room.

Commander Roth approached each stateroom in turn, and with a gentle knock to announce her presence she stuck her head in and relayed – more or less verbatim – a message.

”The Captain would like to extend an invitation for you all to join him in his stateroom for dinner at 2100 hours.” It gave them about three or four hours to kill before they were needed. ”We will send a junior officer to fetch you at this time, but feel free to utilize the in-ship vox-caster system in each room to request an aide if you need a guide someplace, or need anything. I will be working the third shift in the bridge, and I would extend an invitation for you to join me there if you are so inclined once your meal with the Captain is completed. Once again…welcome to the Wayfarer.”


You have about three or four hours before you will be collected for the meal. Feel free to have the Acolytes do whatever they wish during that time period. My next post will advance to dinner time, but feel free to keep side-conversations that started before going in Spoilers.


The computer terminal not only has access to the entire ship’s data librarium, but also has an earmarked delivery for each of the Acolytes containing all the requested and relevant data on their assignment.
If using the information package available, players can make any Lore tests regarding Aporia, or things to do with Aporia at +20%. This represents an hour’s worth of reading and cross-referencing.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

A sadness passed over Qualia as Commander Roth told her tale. A warship and her crew should never have their story end in such a way.

"Apologies, Commander, such an end is not fitting for a crew or ship of that calibre. The Navy's loss is certainly to the gain of Captain Hathaway and the Inquisition, however. If you would endulge me, I would very much enjoy hearing stories of the exploits of the Templar's Verdict and her crew. I'm sure I can provide some tales from His Light if it please you."

-----

Qualia spends the next couple of hours reading over documents, although most of it is too complex for her to understand, and her concentration wavers on several occasions. Realising this, she decides to head into the requisitioned storage room, hoping to at least clear her mind by observing Lena's beautiful, if highly deadly, dances. Knocking on the storage room and announcing her presence and intent to Lena, she awaits an invitation to enter.

[Bennosuke]

Before departing from the Commander and the Captain to join Ralix, Alaric offers his thanks and an uncomfortable attempt at the Aquila salute.

Back in Ralix' room, Alaric allows a few games of Regicide to go by (losing badly most every game), before mentioning, "Perhaps we should take advantage of the ship's librarium." He grins a challenge at Ralix and continues, "I'd bet working together we'd be able to make good headway on this case before we get in... I mean, it is what you do for a living, right?"

Perhaps we can assist each other on a few rolls since we both have high Int. I have CL Imperium, and may be able to make a roll regarding the Tech Priests with Erulasto's support. I would assume we both have pretty decent information packets.

[Lycan 01]

After setting up his personal quarters, Alaric makes his way to Ralix’ room. Letting himself lazily into the chair across from the Adept, Alaric offers a big grin and says, “I guess I’ll let you kick my butt once or twice before we go find Captain Hathaway again.” He then points at one of the larger pieces on the board and says, “Remind me what that one does again.”

Ralix smiles warmly. "Ah, the Cleric. It moves diagonally..." he says, tracing a line from corner to corner across the board. "These are the Martyrs... that's the Astartes..." he mutters, before waving a hand. "Though in some circles they do have different names, like Guardsman and Ogryn, respectively. Especially among the Astra Militarum, and families with ties to them. Mayhaps we should ask Jericus if he has any experience with the game..." the scribe muses, before there's a knock




Commander Roth approached each stateroom in turn, and with a gentle knock to announce her presence she stuck her head in and relayed – more or less verbatim – a message.

”The Captain would like to extend an invitation for you all to join him in his stateroom for dinner at 2100 hours.” It gave them about three or four hours to kill before they were needed. ”We will send a junior officer to fetch you at this time, but feel free to utilize the in-ship vox-caster system in each room to request an aide if you need a guide someplace, or need anything. I will be working the third shift in the bridge, and I would extend an invitation for you to join me there if you are so inclined once your meal with the Captain is completed. Once again…welcome to the Wayfarer.”
You have about three or four hours before you will be collected for the meal. Feel free to have the Acolytes do whatever they wish during that time period. My next post will advance to dinner time, but feel free to keep side-conversations that started before going in Spoilers.


The computer terminal not only has access to the entire ship’s data librarium, but also has an earmarked delivery for each of the Acolytes containing all the requested and relevant data on their assignment.
If using the information package available, players can make any Lore tests regarding Aporia, or things to do with Aporia at +20%. This represents an hour’s worth of reading and cross-referencing.



Ralix returns her offer with a pleasant smile and a courteous nod. "Oh, yes, thank you kindly. We look forward to dinner, and appreciate the hospitality the Captain and his crew has afforded us. And yes, I will certainly come to visit you on the bridge after our meeting with the Captain. Thank you for the invitation, Commander," he replies, giving a small nod. Ralix knows that civilians like him and Alaric are not - or at least, should not - be permitted on the bridge of a starship. The fact that she's extending such an invitation either means she's trying to be very hospitable and get to know her guests better... or there's something very serious she wants to discuss. Either way, turning down the offer would be a bad idea. "It would be most impolite to decline such an honor, and I look forward to it. And if my young friend here-" he tilts his head to Alaric, and cracks a warmer grin, "Tags along to join as well, I will ensure he follows proper decorum... and doesn't touch anything."

As she goes to take her leave, he gives another courteous nod, and seeing his comrade's awkward attempt at an Aquila salute, Ralix holds his hands aloft and crosses them together in front of his chest, giving her a proper salute and showing the young thug the proper form and etiquette. "The Emperor Protects," he intones softly.






Before departing from the Commander and the Captain to join Ralix, Alaric offers his thanks and an uncomfortable attempt at the Aquila salute.

Back in Ralix' room, Alaric allows a few games of Regicide to go by (losing badly most every game), before mentioning, "Perhaps we should take advantage of the ship's librarium." He grins a challenge at Ralix and continues, "I'd bet working together we'd be able to make good headway on this case before we get in... I mean, it is what you do for a living, right?"

Perhaps we can assist each other on a few rolls since we both have high Int. I have CL Imperium, and may be able to make a roll regarding the Tech Priests with Erulasto's support. I would assume we both have pretty decent information packets.

Ralix goes easy on Alaric, focusing more on teaching him the basic rules and a few strategies rather than outright destroying him. Once the games conclude and the young thug proposes they do some research, Ralix returns his grin. "Oh, but of course. What good is a ship's library if nobody puts it to good use, yes? Was there anything in particular you were hoping to research or learn more about, outside the basic mission briefing? Maybe we could also recruit some of our stalwart comrades to assist us in this endeavor..."


He walked back into his room, leaving the door open, and began setting up his small shrine at the back wall for supplication. He'd join Captain Hathaway with the others for a drink afterwards, perhaps.

Ralix walks over to the doorway of his stateroom, and pokes his head out. Seeing Nuric's door open while the rest seem to be closed, he calls over across the hallway. "Brother Nuric, are you present? Me and Alaric are trying to research more into our mission and what may lie ahead. And playing a few rounds of Regicide. Do you wish to join us for either?" he pleasantly inquires. While it's true that Nuric is different and makes Ralix's patience oddly short, he still wants to have him around, especially since if he can help them learn more about Aporia's ties to the Ecclesiarchy...

[ArendK]

Jericus looked up from his reading as Commander Roth stuck her head into his room. He'd been reading through the documents on Aporia, specifically any militarized engagements, combat tactics that are literally navy focused that have been utilized on the planet, and the various bits of information available on Guardsmen and the PDF. Legends, lore, tech, and the Warp information would likely be handled by Ralix, Qualia, and Nuric. The "nuts and nerds" as his old Company would occasionally refer to support personnel like them.


Commander Roth approached each stateroom in turn, and with a gentle knock to announce her presence she stuck her head in and relayed – more or less verbatim – a message.

”The Captain would like to extend an invitation for you all to join him in his stateroom for dinner at 2100 hours.” It gave them about three or four hours to kill before they were needed. ”We will send a junior officer to fetch you at this time, but feel free to utilize the in-ship vox-caster system in each room to request an aide if you need a guide someplace, or need anything. I will be working the third shift in the bridge, and I would extend an invitation for you to join me there if you are so inclined once your meal with the Captain is completed. Once again…welcome to the Wayfarer.”

Jericus didn't even bother standing at the entrance of the Commander as his eyes looked from his terminal to her; an odd luxury he thought. Not standing at the entrance of a Commissar was typically a good way to become his next "morale example."

"I appreciate it Commander. Thank you." Jericus pauses, his mind wandering briefly towards Commander Roths attitude overall through their relatively brief interactions as she turns to leave.

He muttered the Litany of Reloading to the screen as he turned the display screen off; he could never keep the all the different litanies of the technology straight, so had fallen into the habit of using the prayers as a Guardsmen when trying to appease the machine spirits. It seemed to have worked, so maybe the spirits generally thought the effort was enough. He stood as Commander Roth had turned to leave, facing her. A quick glance over to his bed saw his las-rifle lay still attached to his ruck, pistol still on his person. Sailors and Guardsmen alike were rarely afforded the luxury in the little things he did in his unique position like having his weapons open, or remaining sitting upon the entrance of a Commander.

"A question, though, if I may Commander. In the spirit of being blunt and honest, you don't particularly like having us Acolytes and the Inquisition on the Wayfarer, do you?" He says calmly, as though stating a fact. The intended tone and intent isn't trying to be antagonistic, but rather service-member to service-member clearing the air.

[CrimsonKnight]

The storage room in question turned out to be quite adequate. Once she'd pushed the handful of crates and lockers to the walls and corners, it was quite spacious. Now Lena was moving through long-memorized strokes, a constant flurry of swings, stabs, and blocks against imagined foes. This one, a quick stab to the face of an heavily armored opponent. That one, a block against a sudden strike at her from behind. Another one, a two-stroke intended to knock an opponent's blade aside and run them through before they could recover their guard. One after another, like a choreographed dance or well-oiled machine. The chamber rang with the quiet singing of her blade intermixed with her voice as she recited Moritat catechisms. Finally, Lena finished her last kata and came to a kneeling position with her sword held flat in her palms, reciting a short death-prayer in her home tongue. The prayer actually came from her home world and not from her Moritat training, but when her Moritat master had heard her recite it (translated into Gothic), he had graced her with a rare smile (a rare occurrence, to be sure) and told her to keep it to heart and never forget it.

"Lord, may you make this servant into your blade. Lord, may your servant offer this blade unto you. Lord, may you wield your servant as your blade. Lord, may you take your blade and strike all who would defy you or harm your people with great fury and righteousness. Lord, may you take your blade and use it to kill all so marked without hesitation or regret."

Lena reverently sheathed her sword and made the sign of the Aquila before standing up and grabbing the small towel she'd brought to dab at the sheen of sweat on her face. She'd needed this for sure, she'd been wound up like a spring without even realizing it from the tension of the briefing and the trip up to the Wayfarer. Now she was relaxed, composed, and unlikely to start an incident with some random crewman who'd crowded into her personal space. Her head turned with a snap at the sound of knocking on the room's hatch, but she relaxed and even smiled a bit as she recognized the sound of Qualia's voice. After gathering her sword and towel, she headed for the hatch and opened it to find the familiar face of the psyker.

"Hi Qualia. Settled in yet?"

Quick question: what is the ship's gravity normally kept at? "Standard" planetary gravity (obviously, planets would have a wide variety of gravities, but I imagine Standard would be close to or exactly Terran gravity), or low-gravity?

[Bennosuke]

Ralix goes easy on Alaric, focusing more on teaching him the basic rules and a few strategies rather than outright destroying him. Once the games conclude and the young thug proposes they do some research, Ralix returns his grin. "Oh, but of course. What good is a ship's library if nobody puts it to good use, yes? Was there anything in particular you were hoping to research or learn more about, outside the basic mission briefing? Maybe we could also recruit some of our stalwart comrades to assist us in this endeavor..."

Alaric shrugs and says, “Well it appears to me there were a few avenues worth exploring. I think it would be worth looking into the important figures of the Velar’s Hope; the Dynastic Captian, for example. Also any Tech Priests or Engineers who were assigned to the ship. Perhaps the mutations were spontaneous, but more likely someone did something to cause the catastrophe that occurred on board. I would assume either a leader, or someone with scientific control would have been at the epicenter of everything. Supposedly we should have that information. And of course if we can find out more about Magos Carrocin.”

As Alaric was becoming close with the Adept, who was clearly intelligent, it was becoming less important for Alaric to posture and keep up his thuggish front; especially when it came to the Inquisitor’s business.

[qechua]

"Hi Qualia. Settled in yet?"

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

"Certainly better than I did on that ball of rock, for sure. I tried reading through the materials we got sent over, but it's heavier than an armour plate. You carving out a place here?"

Qualia briefly jestured to the ornate blade, and a smile came across her face

"Not literally, of course."

[Erulasto]

THE WAYFARER – FIDELIS SYSTEM

Commander Roth gave an accepting nod at Qualia’s kind assessment of her history with the Navy. ”I think I would like that, Sub-Lieutenant. It’s never a bad thing to have a chance to remember past glories, and friends long returned to the Emperor’s Light.” The Commander even offers Qualia a small smile at that.

When checking in on Jericus, and he pipes in with his inquiry into her demeanor towards them, Commander Roth stiffens noticeably – no mean feat, considering her parade-ready posture at the best of times.

”No, Mister Kessler.” She shakes her head, eyes hard. ”In the spirit of being blunt and honest, as you say, I do not like having the Inquisition on the Wayfarer. As much as I…appreciate….Inquisitor Bannon and all he has done for me personally….” She pauses for a moment, as if considering her words. ”The Wayfarer is not a warship; it’s a merchant-trader and a lightly armed one at that. Given the sort of situations that the Inquisition has a tendency to find itself in, I find this a poor fit. Inquisitor Bannon should have requisitioned a warship. Something with the ability to enforce his will through strength of arms and concentrated lance batteries. What good is a trade-vessel against a heretic?”

It was a valid concern, especially when one thought of the fact that the Recidivists of Logofer VI had managed to corrupt the entire Sixth Fleet of Battlefleet Korolan into their Heresies. The Wayfarer would not last long against even one or two Firestorm-class frigates, let alone a Dauntless-class Light Cruiser….or, Emperor forbid, something larger.

With that having been said, Commander Roth gave a stern but respectful salute to Jericus and before turning on her heel and all but stalking down the hall to attend her other duties.


@CrimsonKnight: The gravity in the Wayfarer is set to standard. Nothing fancy here.


With Qualia and Lena in the make-shift training room, and Jericus and Brother Nuric settling in to their own quarters, that left Ralix and Alaric to pore through the data accumulated on Aporia together, or play through a couple more games of Regicide.

It was about an hour later when the vox crackled to life for a ship-wide broadcast, and the distinctly stern voice of Commander Roth echoed through the halls and the staterooms.

”Attention all hands. Prepare for transit to Warp. Repeat, prepare for transit to Warp.”

The vox clicked audibly as it shut down, and moments later a thrumming energy began to vibrate through the bulkheads. It was like a deep, resonant heart-beat from somewhere deep within the bowels of the ship. It pulsed to a strange, ephemeral rhythm as its intensity grew and grew until it could be felt in the back of your eyes…in your teeth….deep inside your brain like a wriggling niggling worm.

Then – as it reached its crescendo – there was a pulling sensation, like you were free-falling for but a breath of a moment and a sudden, disconcerting pop like the sudden release of pressure on your eardrums after a swift gain or loss of altitude.

The vox crackled to life once more.

”Transit successful.”

And with those words, the realization settled like a lead weight that you had once again entered the empyreal chaos of the Warp – protected from madness and damnation only by the Light of the Astronomicon, and the ships ancient Gellar Fields.


________xXx_______

Roughly two hours later, a young junior officer came calling. He was clean-shaven, and couldn’t have been past his first shave. But he was dressed in the pressed jacket and pants of an officer, though bereft of any sort of embelishments or aggrandizements on his uniform. Aside from an Aquila on his starched collar and the stencil of the Wayfarer on his sleeve.

He approached each stateroom in turn, and with a tentative knock and a hesitant voice, he addressed those he knew to be servants of the Inquisition.

”E..excuse me. Pardon the interruption. But Captain Hathaway has requested your presence for dinner. If…if you would like to follow me?”

[ArendK]

[QUOTE=Erulasto;23117189]THE WAYFARER – FIDELIS SYSTEM

When checking in on Jericus, and he pipes in with his inquiry into her demeanor towards them, Commander Roth stiffens noticeably – no mean feat, considering her parade-ready posture at the best of times.

”No, Mister Kessler.” She shakes her head, eyes hard. ”In the spirit of being blunt and honest, as you say, I do not like having the Inquisition on the Wayfarer. As much as I…appreciate….Inquisitor Bannon and all he has done for me personally….” She pauses for a moment, as if considering her words. [b]”The Wayfarer is not a warship; it’s a merchant-trader and a lightly armed one at that. Given the sort of situations that the Inquisition has a tendency to find itself in, I find this a poor fit. Inquisitor Bannon should have requisitioned a warship. Something with the ability to enforce his will through strength of arms and concentrated lance batteries. What good is a trade-vessel against a heretic?”

It was a valid concern, especially when one thought of the fact that the Recidivists of Logofer VI had managed to corrupt the entire Sixth Fleet of Battlefleet Korolan into their Heresies. The Wayfarer would not last long against even one or two Firestorm-class frigates, let alone a Dauntless-class Light Cruiser….or, Emperor forbid, something larger.

With that having been said, Commander Roth gave a stern but respectful salute to Jericus and before turning on her heel and all but stalking down the hall to attend her other duties.

"No need for formalities. Jericus is fine." he says as he offers a casual salute in response as she turned away.

Jericus sat back and returned to his research with some new thoughts. A warship would make immediate sense, if the team of Acolytes were sent solely to seek and destroy. But that was not the case. Though an Acolyte team of nothing but former Guardsmen did force Jericus to quiet a giggle. Inquisitor Bannon had recruited Jericus not because he was excellent at slaughtering the Emperors enemies; he was chosen for his tactical mind and focus on getting his team to safety. All moving parts of a team with a focus. Lena is the sword (almost quite literally in her case), Jericus the shield, Ralix the mind, Nuric the heart, Qualia the hand and the Alaric the dagger. Too many body parts, but it doesn't have to be perfect. All with different roles to play in the group. Different Ordos within the Inquisition filled different roles in their search. But that was all the the Inquisition was meant to do; search, possibly contain, defeat if possible. The Guard, the Navy, even the Angels of Death themselves (supposedly, Jericus had never seen one of the fabled Space Marines) were meant to handle the large scale conflicts against the Emperors enemies. The Inquisition were the eyes, not the sword. The heretics biggest advantage was hiding in plain sight, not the size of the guns available to them. To combat that, the Inquisition can't just bring the heaviest guns to bear everywhere they go, they have to be able to find the enemy before they can deal with them. The right weapon for the right task.

Jericus mentally filed that away for further discussion with Commander Roth later, and resumed his reading.

Deal with the relevant rolls if/when the time comes; Jericus isn't the brains of the operation

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jericus smiled at the young cadet. Clearly nervous as can be when dealing with agents of the Inquisition, the smile probably did nothing to off-set the kids unsettled demeanor.

"Yeah, let's go. Wouldn't want to keep the Inquisition, the Captain, or the Commander waiting." Jericus said as he remuttered the litany of reloading as he turned the display screen off. Jericus fell into step to the officers left, walking alongside him as he talked casually. For most units in the Imperial Guard, the senior officer walked on the right when not walking in formation, and Jericus was curious how the junior officer would react, or if in the Navy that was even a concept.

Jericus begins with a series of questions, said in a generally casual, but inquisitive tone.
"So where did you get your commission at?"
"Where you from? "
"Seen any action yet? Most likely space pirates I'd imagine; might as well be heretics. "
"Any particular focus for your training?"
"Military family? Got a family of your own yet?"
"How do you guys pass the time when you're off duty?"
After each mini question Jericus will intentionally look thoughtful, with comments such as "I see", "That makes sense" and "of course.".

"Impressive ship; ran a little more strict that most merchant ships I'd imagine under Commander Roth, eh? She seems quite the professional lady."

Essentially getting a feel for the crew/Commander (even if Jericus is finding slight entertainment in letting the junior officer sweat out a series of trivial questions from an agent of the Inquisition)

[CrimsonKnight]

Lena gave a low chuckle.

"Eager to return to the void? Well, glad I'm not the only one who's happy to be leaving that pit of a world behind. But yes, this room is adequate for my needs. If I can find a backboard for practicing aim with bow and knife and maybe some mats for tumbling, it'd be perfect. I must keep my training up on such a long journey. Ah, but this is closer to home for you, yes? I am sure you have plenty of practice to occupying yourself with void travel."

At that moment, they were interrupted by the crackle of the vox-speaker relaying Commander Roth's announcement. Lena gritted her teeth in anticipation. If there was one thing she hated above all else from her handful of void trips, it was the deeply unsettling sensations that accompanied the transition into or out of the Warp. Like being simultaneously caressed and pulled apart while a million tiny needles punctured every inch of her body inside and out. When it happened, she had to close her eyes as well for a moment just to reduce the sensory load from overtaxing herself. Once the sensations faded and she felt mostly normal again, she shuddered and opened her eyes before glancing over at Qualia.

"Sorry about that. I should be able to control myself and handle that better, but... well, it is something I still need to work on. I cannot afford such weakness or it may get me killed one day. *sigh* I suppose you are more familiar with the dealing with it, being of the void and all as well as your, ah, gifts."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later, after she'd cleaned the training sweat from her body in her stateroom's refresher and changed into a plain but well-made black bodyglove that hugged her body without impairing her movement, Lena was seated at the room's desk working her knife blades along a whetstone when she was interrupted by a knocking at her door that turned out to be a nervous-looking junior officer for the dinner that Roth had mentioned earlier. After a moment of staring him down with a grave expression on her face, she gave a curt nod while fighting the urge to break out laughing at his obvious dread.

"Very well. I follow your lead."

[Bennosuke]

Pulling glazed eyes away from data screens, Alaric looks from the junior officer to Ralix and says, “Well. I suppose it’s time to call it a night. Can you call it night when on a Warp sailing vessel? Anyways... free food?”

[Lycan 01]

Alaric shrugs and says, “Well it appears to me there were a few avenues worth exploring. I think it would be worth looking into the important figures of the Velar’s Hope; the Dynastic Captian, for example. Also any Tech Priests or Engineers who were assigned to the ship. Perhaps the mutations were spontaneous, but more likely someone did something to cause the catastrophe that occurred on board. I would assume either a leader, or someone with scientific control would have been at the epicenter of everything. Supposedly we should have that information. And of course if we can find out more about Magos Carrocin.”

As Alaric was becoming close with the Adept, who was clearly intelligent, it was becoming less important for Alaric to posture and keep up his thuggish front; especially when it came to the Inquisitor’s business.

Ralix nods along thoughtfully, before popping his knuckles and turning to the data terminal. "Alright, let me see what I can dig up. Though one thing you may want to keep in mind is that not everything is handed to your directly, when you're doing research like this. If we can't find much information on one of the important figures in particular, for example, we can try to research the period in time or events associated with them. Sometimes the information on those events can contain small, seemingly trivial details about the person in question... but tiny details eventually form to make larger details, yes?" he smirks.

His smirk then fades a bit. "I may also see if I can find more information on the legends and cultural beliefs of the planet. See if maybe there's some sort of old wives tales or folk tales regarding mutations and such. As you theorized, the mutations could be the result of something direct, like chemical or biological exposure, like one might see in the Underhives. But there's always the chance it could be something much more malignant, or perhaps a result of something the crew found at sea..." he muses.


Common Lore: Imperium, to see what we can dig up on the Captain and hierarchy of the ship, or any relevant info regarding their Ad-Mech contingents: [roll0] vs 46
Scholastic Lore: Legend, to see if Aporia had any other folks tales or legends regarding mutation, "sea people," or other things which might corrupt or destroy a whole ship like this: [roll1] vs 46
Scholastic Lore: Occult, to see if there's any sort of weird omens, curses, folk remedies, or superstitions about mutations or other things which might the people of Aporia may try to keep hushed and only known among their own: [roll2] vs 46


THE WAYFARER – FIDELIS SYSTEM

The vox crackled to life once more.

”Transit successful.”

And with those words, the realization settled like a lead weight that you had once again entered the empyreal chaos of the Warp – protected from madness and damnation only by the Light of the Astronomicon, and the ships ancient Gellar Fields.


________xXx_______

Roughly two hours later, a young junior officer came calling. He was clean-shaven, and couldn’t have been past his first shave. But he was dressed in the pressed jacket and pants of an officer, though bereft of any sort of embelishments or aggrandizements on his uniform. Aside from an Aquila on his starched collar and the stencil of the Wayfarer on his sleeve.

He approached each stateroom in turn, and with a tentative knock and a hesitant voice, he addressed those he knew to be servants of the Inquisition.

”E..excuse me. Pardon the interruption. But Captain Hathaway has requested your presence for dinner. If…if you would like to follow me?”


Pulling glazed eyes away from data screens, Alaric looks from the junior officer to Ralix and says, “Well. I suppose it’s time to call it a night. Can you call it night when on a Warp sailing vessel? Anyways... free food?”



Ralix grimaces and grunts as they make the Warp jump, but he keeps his focus on the task at hand, fingers continuing to type and scroll across the keypad. Eventually, though, his eyes begin to burn and his head begins to ache a bit from all the data sifting. Thankfully, the young officer arrives just as he's about to turn his attention back to Regicide. He gives the young officer a courteous nod, rising from his seat and straightening his jacket. "Ah, yes, so kind of you to offer. Thank you, and by all means, please lead the way. We'll follow right behind," he replies, turning and nodding his head to Alaric for him to follow as well. "And yes, free food is good, though word of advice? Pace yourself with the amesac. Don't knock it back in one gulp like you did with the last shot I offered you - the bottle the good Captain is sharing with us is worth enough to likely buy you a gold-engraved bolt pistol on some worlds," he smirks.

[Erulasto]

THE WAYFARER - THE WARP

The youthful officer gulps visibly as the team assemble in the corridor to be led off to the Captain's stateroom for a meal. His eyes flit back and forth nervously for a moment, before he turns on his heel and strides off - perhaps a bit quicker than necessary - towards the nearest lift.

His posture is rigid, though it appears to be more from nerves than strict adherence to a regimental protocol. The junior officer tries to keep his eyes facing forward, but he can't stop himself from sneaking the occasional bewildered glance.

The youth scratches the back of his neck sheepishly when Jericus begins his interrogation. "M..my commission? I...uh...my mother? She's the Wayfarers augury officer. I grew up on the ship. Captain Hathaway offered to apprentice me when I came of age. He's teaching me what it means to be a ship officer, but he said I had to pay my dues first.

"Well...we've never gotten boarded or anything. A couple close calls with pirates, and once...when I was a little kid....we were chased by some Xenos ship through three systems. My mother...she uh...she told me they lost it in the stellar wake of a passing comet." He seems somewhat proud that the ship was able to outrun and outflank a xenos vessel, but that story could possibly be more than a bit exagerated.

"There are recreation areas on the officer and midshipman decks. Any officer can point the way to the closest one. Oh! Yeah...yeah, she's real professional all right. She can be a bit....unyielding sometimes when she's got her mind set on something. Argues with the the Captain about security whenever she thinks no one's listening." He snickers softly, before catching his faux pas and coughing to clear his throat.

The walk took about them about ten minutes, and up seven decks. They were led to a large blast-door; painted and decorated with Imperial iconography.

The junior officer presses a keypad on the wall, and with a gusting hiss the door slid open to reveal a hallway and a pair of stairs flanking it. He smiles, and bows deeply.

"Please, the Captain is waiting for you upstairs."


______xXx______


The stairs carry you up to a wide, circular room with several small elevator pads set into the outer edge to carry supplies up and down from the hall and small chamber below. The floor was exquisitely covered in thin tiles of slate and marble, and veined with gold in the shape of astrological symbols and geometery.

A massive table sits in the center of the room; a circular table with ten available seats. It was laid out with diaphanous silk cloths, and a dozen tall white candles burned upon the tabletop in sculpted gold candleabras. Several young men and women were bustling about, setting the table with large platters of extravagent food and several bottles of amasec.

The walls were covered in closets and bulkhead cupboards of all sorts; there were also three hatches to enter the maintenance tunnels on this level of the vessel.

The most striking thing about the room was the vast glass dome above you, each pane held within gold-plated cerametal frames in the shape of coiling ivy and laurels. Beyond the glass the space swirled and roiled like thunderclouds, waves and currents of multi-coloured energy and strange gases. The sight was limited by the black and purple flickering of the void shields and Gellar Field.

You were about to eat a meal in the Wayfarer's observatory dome.

When they entered, Captain Hathaway threw his arms wide and smiled.

"Ahhh! There you are! You are just on time. Dinner is being served." He gestures for them to pick a seat around the table. He moves around the table, pouring each of them a glass of spicy-smelling amasec with a syrupy-gold colouration.

As he makes his way around, he pauses and glances up at the dome before returning his attention to the Acolytes.

"Quite the view, no?"



Scholastic Lore (Legend): There were old legends that claimed that the Aporian Lash-fins would drag people to the depths and use them to breed and propagate their cephalopod existence. These legends, and the Lash-Fins themselves only began appearing around eight hundred years ago.

[Bennosuke]

Alaric takes a seat, forgetting to remove his leather jacket all together, and certainly showing no knowledge of proper utensil use, holding each in a hammer grip.

Looking up at the dome, Alaric says nervously, “Quiet. So, um, we shouldn’t be concerned about the glass shattering, right?”

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

"The advantage of you weapon set, bows and knives don't risk hull breach nearly as much as a gun, and I doubt this ship has a firing range on it."

Qualia braced herself as the transition prep message came through, once more the instinct of decades of void faring shining through

"I must admit, transitions are more trying than they were before the Emperor saw fit to bless me with these powers, but I am very glad I got used to transitioning before I got them. I honestly don't know how the Astropaths do it. Anyway, I'll let you continue, I'm sure it won't be long until we are summoned by the Captain."

Qualia managed to return to her quarters for about half an hour before being summoned, simply rising and following the officer without word. Most interestingly was Jericus' impromptu interrogation of the poor lad, but that was to be expected of the military types. Giving a brief nod to the officer as she arrived at the veritable feast laid out, she wondered what meagre rations he would be surviving on later. Taking a seat, she took a brief look upon the hellscape above them before averting her gaze.

"No to worry, Alaric, I would presume that's at least 3 metres of armourglas. I'd sooner trust that dome to save me than the plating on a Leman Russ. Still, it is unusual to have an open view of the warp. It does have a reputation of turning people quite mad."

[Sarak]

Ralix walks over to the doorway of his stateroom, and pokes his head out. Seeing Nuric's door open while the rest seem to be closed, he calls over across the hallway. "Brother Nuric, are you present? Me and Alaric are trying to research more into our mission and what may lie ahead. And playing a few rounds of Regicide. Do you wish to join us for either?" he pleasantly inquires. While it's true that Nuric is different and makes Ralix's patience oddly short, he still wants to have him around, especially since if he can help them learn more about Aporia's ties to the Ecclesiarchy...

He'd been nearly finished his evening prayers before hearing Ralix's offer of company, but did not hurry through; there would, perhaps, be moments in the service of His Inquisition when his other service to the God-Emperor would take priority, but this was not one of those moments.

"...Though I travel into the eternal darkness of the Void, I shall fear not, for the Emperor is my Light.
Though I tread amongst the Heathen and the Xenos, I shall concern myself not, for the Emperor is my Guide.
Though I march into the fields of battle, I shall worry not, for the Emperor is my Protector.
Though I journey from this world to the next I shall falter not, for the Emperor is my God."

Making the sign of the Aquila, Nuric opened his eyes and rose to his feet. The discomfort he felt at being aboard a ship was lessened in prayer. He made his way across the hall to Ralix and Alaric, joining the two for a time. The company was appreciated, and he tried to assist when he could. He felt a bit guilty with his own terminal untouched in his room, as though he'd been delinquent in his duty to the Inquisition. Perhaps with some reading of his own he'd be better able to assist the Adept's endeavors.

Common Lore: Ecclesiarchy [roll0] vs. 29 (attempting to contribute to the investigation)


It was about an hour later when the vox crackled to life for a ship-wide broadcast, and the distinctly stern voice of Commander Roth echoed through the halls and the staterooms.

”Attention all hands. Prepare for transit to Warp. Repeat, prepare for transit to Warp.”

The vox clicked audibly as it shut down, and moments later a thrumming energy began to vibrate through the bulkheads. It was like a deep, resonant heart-beat from somewhere deep within the bowels of the ship. It pulsed to a strange, ephemeral rhythm as its intensity grew and grew until it could be felt in the back of your eyes…in your teeth….deep inside your brain like a wriggling niggling worm.

Then – as it reached its crescendo – there was a pulling sensation, like you were free-falling for but a breath of a moment and a sudden, disconcerting pop like the sudden release of pressure on your eardrums after a swift gain or loss of altitude.

The vox crackled to life once more.

”Transit successful.”

And with those words, the realization settled like a lead weight that you had once again entered the empyreal chaos of the Warp – protected from madness and damnation only by the Light of the Astronomicon, and the ships ancient Gellar Fields.

He'd been reciting a Litany of Safe Travel throughout the whole process; not entirely nervous reflex, but also a genuine prayer to safeguard the ship and crew. He tuned back in to the conversation as it picked up between the two data hounds; he'd come a long way in the last year, but he could hardly keep up with them today. Alaric especially seemed eager, swimming through the information with more skill than he'd have expected of the young ex-ganger. He excused himself as politely as he could, returning to his quarters briefly before making a round of the ship to get his bearings again; it seemed as though every time he was aboard he managed to get himself lost, and he resolved that this trip would be different. Honestly, it was hard to see how Qualia already knew where everything was when this wasn't even her ship!


Roughly two hours later, a young junior officer came calling. He was clean-shaven, and couldn’t have been past his first shave. But he was dressed in the pressed jacket and pants of an officer, though bereft of any sort of embelishments or aggrandizements on his uniform. Aside from an Aquila on his starched collar and the stencil of the Wayfarer on his sleeve.

He approached each stateroom in turn, and with a tentative knock and a hesitant voice, he addressed those he knew to be servants of the Inquisition.

”E..excuse me. Pardon the interruption. But Captain Hathaway has requested your presence for dinner. If…if you would like to follow me?”

Brother Nuric turned to the young officer, making the sign of the Aquila as he noticed the icon on the man's collar, and said "Of course." Internally he sighed; it was sometimes hard to tell whether the crew were ill at ease because of his Untouchable nature, or simply because of the rosette he was affiliated with. He trailed a short distance behind the man, attempting to memorize the route they took. He'd look the fool if he had to ask one of the others to escort him back to their rooms again!


THE WAYFARER - THE WARP

The youthful officer gulps visibly as the team assemble in the corridor to be led off to the Captain's stateroom for a meal. His eyes flit back and forth nervously for a moment, before he turns on his heel and strides off - perhaps a bit quicker than necessary - towards the nearest lift.

His posture is rigid, though it appears to be more from nerves than strict adherence to a regimental protocol. The junior officer tries to keep his eyes facing forward, but he can't stop himself from sneaking the occasional bewildered glance.

The youth scratches the back of his neck sheepishly when Jericus begins his interrogation. "M..my commission? I...uh...my mother? She's the Wayfarers augury officer. I grew up on the ship. Captain Hathaway offered to apprentice me when I came of age. He's teaching me what it means to be a ship officer, but he said I had to pay my dues first.

"Well...we've never gotten boarded or anything. A couple close calls with pirates, and once...when I was a little kid....we were chased by some Xenos ship through three systems. My mother...she uh...she told me they lost it in the stellar wake of a passing comet." He seems somewhat proud that the ship was able to outrun and outflank a xenos vessel, but that story could possibly be more than a bit exagerated.

"There are recreation areas on the officer and midshipman decks. Any officer can point the way to the closest one. Oh! Yeah...yeah, she's real professional all right. She can be a bit....unyielding sometimes when she's got her mind set on something. Argues with the the Captain about security whenever she thinks no one's listening." He snickers softly, before catching his faux pas and coughing to clear his throat.

The walk took about them about ten minutes, and up seven decks. They were led to a large blast-door; painted and decorated with Imperial iconography.

The junior officer presses a keypad on the wall, and with a gusting hiss the door slid open to reveal a hallway and a pair of stairs flanking it. He smiles, and bows deeply.

"Please, the Captain is waiting for you upstairs."


______xXx______


The stairs carry you up to a wide, circular room with several small elevator pads set into the outer edge to carry supplies up and down from the hall and small chamber below. The floor was exquisitely covered in thin tiles of slate and marble, and veined with gold in the shape of astrological symbols and geometery.

A massive table sits in the center of the room; a circular table with ten available seats. It was laid out with diaphanous silk cloths, and a dozen tall white candles burned upon the tabletop in sculpted gold candleabras. Several young men and women were bustling about, setting the table with large platters of extravagent food and several bottles of amasec.

The walls were covered in closets and bulkhead cupboards of all sorts; there were also three hatches to enter the maintenance tunnels on this level of the vessel.

The most striking thing about the room was the vast glass dome above you, each pane held within gold-plated cerametal frames in the shape of coiling ivy and laurels. Beyond the glass the space swirled and roiled like thunderclouds, waves and currents of multi-coloured energy and strange gases. The sight was limited by the black and purple flickering of the void shields and Gellar Field.

You were about to eat a meal in the Wayfarer's observatory dome.

When they entered, Captain Hathaway threw his arms wide and smiled.

"Ahhh! There you are! You are just on time. Dinner is being served." He gestures for them to pick a seat around the table. He moves around the table, pouring each of them a glass of spicy-smelling amasec with a syrupy-gold colouration.

As he makes his way around, he pauses and glances up at the dome before returning his attention to the Acolytes.

"Quite the view, no?"


Looking up at the dome, Alaric says nervously, “Quiet. So, um, we shouldn’t be concerned about the glass shattering, right?”


"No to worry, Alaric, I would presume that's at least 3 metres of armourglas. I'd sooner trust that dome to save me than the plating on a Leman Russ. Still, it is unusual to have an open view of the warp. It does have a reputation of turning people quite mad."

He'd been eyeing the dome and the sights it allowed a bit anxiously himself; it was far outside his ever-widening comfort zone still. He shook his head. "The Warp IS madness." Catching himself, and not wanting to set a tone of unease for dinner, he continued. "Thankfully, we are guided through such tides by His Light on Holy Terra. Thank you, good Captain." Nuric eyed the glass in front of him; between Captain Hathaway and Ralix's influences, he'd had more of the drink in the last year than the thirty before it, and he was developing a taste for it.

[Erulasto]

THE WAYFARER - THE WARP

Captain Hathaway laughed good-naturedly at the banter between Alaric and Qualia.

"She's quite right, my boy! Quite right!" He gestures up towards the dome. "Solid armourglass, cerametal and an I had an extra void shield installed for the dome itself. We're quite safe here!" He glances to Nuric and winks. "Even from the Warp, Brother Nuric. The Light of the Astronomicon burns brightly here, and my Navigator can work miracles."

The good Captain takes a solid sip of his amasec and sighs in pleasure.

"The 84 was a very good year!" Setting the glass down, he claps his hands together in excitement. "But I digress! It is a pleasure to have you aboard. The quarters I've assigned to you will be yours for as long as you want them, or need them. I will admit..." He leans in and grins conspiratorily, "For what your good Master is paying me? I could stop with the trade-runs and still have enough to keep this old gal running for a decade." He gazes about the Wayfarer with clear affection in his eyes.

"I suspect we will be seeing a lot of each other."

The servants finish setting all the food upon the tables, and quickly disappear with their carts down the small lifts scattered about the outer edges of the dome.

It smells wonderful.

Pan-seared lemon and ginger Guverrian Scallops. Medium-rare seasoned Grox steaks. Steamed Kuosi Roots from Yemien. Grilled Gannic slices with Pentha Ronus Plainstrider breasts. Slices of dense Devonshire flatbread and doughy buns stuffed with Viccarian jelly and Surassian Honey-nuts.

[CrimsonKnight]

Lena grimaced as she took her seat. The physical discomfort when the Wayfarer had slid into the Warp had been bad enough, but to actually gaze upon the hellish energies surrounding them even now? She'd known most void spacers tended to be a bit odd in some way or another, but this surprised even her that anyone would want to look upon such a sight. Nuric was right, it really was madness. She immediately resolved not to look above at all for the entire dinner if she could possibly avoid it. Of course, that meant she had to focus on the table in front of her, and a different, much more familiar unease reasserted itself at the sight of the pristine tablecloth, the gleaming rows of silverware whose shine rivaled the blades she'd left in her room out of courtesy to the captain, and the spread of food that was far above the quality she was used to. She'd hunted and gathered her own food on her home world of course, and in the Moritat, the apprentices like her had been forced to survive on dregs barely enough to provide nourishment. Even after she'd begun her service to the Inquisition, most of her meals had been either Guard-quality corpse rations she'd acquired from Jericus or cheap vendor stall food on one of her excursions.

Apart from idly wondering what food this fine would do to her digestion, Lena was also confused as to the sheer amount of cutlery next to each place setting. She'd grown up using a knife and her bare hands for most situations, and though she'd grudgingly learned how to use a fork and spoon (and, occasionally, that pair of smooth sticks that some worlds seemed to favor instead), that did nothing to explain why each person at the table would need a dozen forks, knives, and spoons. And only one of the knives even appeared sharp! Nowhere as sharp as the dagger she'd stashed in her boot of course (she may have politely left her sword and other blades, but even when sleeping or bathing in the refresher she was never, ever, willingly unarmed), but what was the point of a knife that couldn't even be used to cut your food into chunks small enough to swallow? This was all far above her head and comfort level, and determined not to make a fool of herself lest it reflect poorly on Inquisitor Bannon, Lena settled on the simple strategy she usually took in such situations where she felt out of her depth: say nothing, watch, and observe. In this case, observe those who should know what they were doing (the captain and Ralix, most likely), follow which silver they were using, and imitate as best she could without being obvious about it. Not so different from learning how to properly wield a blade under her Moritat masters really, if much less likely to end with her having to be stitched up by a chuirgeon afterwards,

[Bennosuke]

Alaric allows himself more than a generous glug of the amsec, grinning as it goes down warm, eyes a little watery. He looks devilishly over to Ralix and grins, giving a shoulder shrug that says oops. Then he sets in to shoveling food into his face as fast as he possibly can, going first for the protein.

Through a mouth stuffed with Grox steak, Alaric says, “Is there any chance you would be willing to show me... I mean us the control room??? I’d be very interested in learning about how you pilot such a massive vessel.” He swallows hard, then takes another less aggressive sip of the amsec. “I can’t imagine it’s easy.” He then proceeds to use two fingers to try to pull a strand of meat out from between his teeth with vigor.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Watching the huge array of food move in, Qualia found herself somewhat overwhelmed. Inquisitor Bannon had always treated them well, but this was a whole new level. Taking the knife and fork that best suited her size, Qualia began eating the delicious fare.

"Truly excellent, Captain, be sure to pass my compliments to the preparation crew. Bannon must indeed be compensating you well for your services. If you don't mind my asking, what would your normal trade runs consist of?"

[Lycan 01]

Ralix, Dinner Time

Ralix makes a mental footnote about what little research he's able to dig up, before setting it aside for later. He joins the rest of the Acolytes in following the Junior Officer, but he doesn't say anything or otherwise contribute to the conversation. Instead, he just wears a small lopsided smirk of amusement as Jericus interrogates him.

Reaching the Observatory, Ralix drinks in the sight with an aloof smile. "Marvelous decor..." he mutters, before glancing down and raising an eyebrow at the strange symbols all over the floor. Innocuous to him - simple geometry, after all. But to the untrained eye, such astrological signs could easily be mistaken for alchemy, occultism, or worse. Still, he gives them a good glance over, just to ensure the good Captain hasn't put some sort of hidden meaning in them. No doubt some stellar joke or pun, if anything...

He then takes his seat, picking a chair between Alaric and Nuric, to keep an eye on the former and help the latter feel more at ease, if needed. He nods courteously to the Rogue Trader as he greets them and they begin to discuss the observatory dome and the fine vintage before them. "Yes, I trust our host would not pick anywhere dangerous for us to enjoy our dinner, adventurous as he may be," Ralix says, flashing a roguish grin at the Captain. He then picks up his glass of amesac, taking a small sip before giving an aloof smile. "A fine year, indeed. And very fine hospitality too!" he exclaims, his smile turning into a warm, jovial grin. "This feast looks amazing, and yes, pass along our thanks and compliments to the waitstaff and chefs. And thanks to you, of course, for inviting us and being such a gracious host. And I personally look forward to seeing more of each other, especially if it involves more amesac and some Regicide," he winks.

Ralix then glance around and notices some of his comrades looking at the silverware and other finery with uncertainty, or notices them picking up the wrong utensils. Sensing their discomfort, he decides to offer himself up as something of a sacrificial lamb. "You'll have to forgive me, though, if my table manners are lacking," he says with an apologetic nod. "I haven't been able to enjoy fine cuisine and hospitality even close to this since I left my homeworld some years ago, and I fear my grasp of proper dinner etiquette may have rusted somewhat. Though, you don't strike me as the sort to be offended by me using the wrong fork, unlike my great aunt. She banned several guests from her house for years over silverware etiquette, myself included once, heh," he says with a lazy smirk and a small chuckle, trying to lighten the mood a bit and help the others feel more at ease - assuming the Captain assures them not to worry about table manners. Otherwise, Ralix may need to give his comrades a crash course in proper use of a soup spoon...




Scholastic Lore: Occult, to recognize any sort of warding or other strange hidden messages in the floor patterns: [roll0] vs 46

[ArendK]

As Jericus continued his "interrogation" of the young Junior Officer, he looked to the rest of his group with a quick smirk and flashed a quick thumbs up behind his back as they walked; Alaric or Qualia would likely recognize the ancient organizational past time of "scare the new guy witless" as it was common practice from gangs to military units. Regardless of his little amusement at the young mans expense, Jericus had gleaned some useful information.

"You should be grateful Commander Roth is security conscious; means she cares." he says to the young officer as they approach the blast door.

--------------------------------------------------

The view on the Observatory was far closer to the Warp than any Guardsmen ever wanted to be without counting falling into it. Jericus knew this was as much a test as it was a social event, so he did the smartest thing he could think of in this situation. Sit down, shut up, and avoid drawing attention. Lena seemed in largely the same state of mind; and he sympathized with her expression over the staggering amount of silverware in front of them. Enough knives were present for one person to stab several orcs to death and still have enough left over for a more practical person.

Jericus kept quiet, mimicking Ralix and the Captain as best he could so he didn't draw attention to himself through bad table manners. The view was disturbing, to say the least. Thankfully, Ralix's explanation helped keep him from any blunders. The food itself was beyond what most Guardsmen would ever dream off in quality; even in garrison, it was rare to have a passable meal prepared. Jericus had made a point to become friends with one of the cooks in the support unit to treat his stomach to something usually given to the officers and Commissars.

Jericus keeps a casual eye out, specifically for Commander Roth. If she's present, he'll give her at least a friendly smile. Otherwise, Jericus is keeping to himself, enjoying the meal, doing his beset to ignore the Warp outside the window, and half-listening to the conversations. The only social contributions he's capable of making at a dinner party are "no drek there I was..." stories that typically are reserved until AFTER ample amounts of amasec have been consumed and usually considered in poor taste at fancy dinner parties.

[Erulasto]

THE WAYFARER – THE WARP

Captain Hathaway takes a generous swig of his own amasec, before setting his glass down and digging into a hefty slab of grox steak with gusto. He pauses in his chewing for a moment, glancing up to Alaric. Swallowing his food, he wipes his mouth with a silk kerchief and offers the young man a wide smile.

”Aye lad, that can be arranged. We’ve got quite the journey ahead of us, and we’ll be dropping in and out of Warp to triangulate our position. It makes for a bit slower going, but in my experience it’s better than trusting the fickle currents of the Warp.” Captain Hathaway clears his throat, and whets it with another sip of amasec before turning his attention to Qualia. ”Well…before Master Bannon hired us, we spent most of our time transporting non-perishable and semi-luxury goods. Fine clothing, alcohol such as amasec or good vintage wines, even some exotic xenos hides once or twice; and I’m not too proud to admit I once transported a rather large hold full of obscura in my youth for some easy thrones. Most of my contracts are in the Korolan Sector, so that keeps us close to home, so they say. I tried bulk trading for a while; ore, water, corpse-rations…but the sheer volume required to turn a profit high enough to keep a ship running exceeded my storage space, alas. It was a bit safer, in the long run. Less chance of pirates trying to haul off a hundred and twenty thousand tons of fresh water!” He laughed, before taking another, much smaller bite of his food while the sound of footsteps echo through the observation dome.

Commander Roth, and another – a man who seems to have been aged prematurely, in rich robes and leaning heavily upon a gnarled staff made of fire-blackened wood - have entered and are making their way to the table.

Hathaway grins widely at their approach. ”Ascobel! Quayle! Good of you to join us! You’ll pardon that we’ve begun already, yes?” He gestures for the two new additions to take a seat, and Commander Roth helps the man called Quayle into a seat before taking one herself with a tight-lipped smile.

”Please, my friends, allow me to introduce you to Quayle Dumont. My chief Astropath.”

The wizened man, whose smile belies a sprightly youth that his weathered face does not show, smiles pleasantly and with a raspy voice speaks. ”It is a pleasure to meet you all.”

Hathaway snatches a piece of flatbread from the table, and begins to break it into small chunks which he uses to sop up the juices from his now demolished steak. ”Of course Master Zamir! I look forward to playing a few games. Usually I only get to play against Ascobel here, and with no small amount of humility I must admit that she usually trounces me soundlessly….and please!” He waves a hand dismissively, ”We are all friends here. Do not fret about such things as table manners. I trust that you have far more important things to worry about in the coming months than whether or not you use the right fork or spoon for your meal!” He laughs good-naturedly, but the point is very true: when one is expected to stare into the heresies that hide in the souls of mankind, what point is there to worry if you are using the salad fork or the meat fork?

As the meal progressed, Captain Hathaway seemed to get progressively friendlier – if such a thing were possible – while Quayle seems to simply pick at a light fare of the vegetables prepared at most. Commander Roth seems to have an appetite to rival that of Captain Hathaway, though her pace and manners are substantially more refined than the Captains. She also doesn’t seem to touch the amasec or the wines available at all.

”So, if I may be so bold as to ask…what is it exactly I am bringing you to Aporia to do?” Captain Hathaway finally asks. ”I know the basics about what Master Bannon has informed me of. Something about a missing ship? But the details have been left quite…vague.”

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Qualia nods as Captain Hathaway describes his old storage runs, laughing as he finishes

"Perfectly true. Certainly we had to save a few traders back on His Light, but the corsairs in Calixis cared not for the cargo half the time. I remember one occasion where we were defending a convoy, one of the transports got hit and vented her water cargo. The stuff froze and enough of it entered one of our macrocannon barrels to completely jam the mechanisms. By the time we got to fixing it a few hours later, the stuff had melted from the barrel heat and shorted out everything, we needed a whole new for-port battery! I'm presuming the Wayfarer is a family vessel then, if you have free choice over trade runs and contracts?"

-----

Upon Commander Roth's entry, Qualia gives a nod of respect in her direction. The introduction of the Astropath was of note, and she jumps upon the chance to introduce herself, noting that her experience with Astropaths has been that they complained about everything

"The pleasure is mine, Master Dumont, I am Qualia Mithras, the teams, erm, esoteric support. I hope I do not disturb your activities with my practices, my skills and abilities pale in comparison to your own."

-----

As the evening continued, Qualia partook in some of the amasec, it's rich flavour far superior to the deck-still she was more accustomed to, and before long she found herself feeling it's influence. She went to answer Captain Hathaway's question, but changed her direction as she saw the skinny one standing behind the Captain, furiously shaking his head

"We're investigating a...well, I don't know much more than you at the moment. We've been sent a huge array of files, but I've only briefly looked over them, if we're travelling for three months, I figure I'd pace myself with the reading material!"

She let out a small laugh at the end, before trying to change the subject

"I know we've found a small training room for Lena to practice her skills, but what other training facilities do you have available? Most notably, a few of us would see fit to hone our firearm skills, would there be a shooting range or similar aboard somewhere? We wouldn't want to take time away from your own armsmen, of course."

[Erulasto]

THE WAYFARER – THE WARP

Captain Hathaway positively beams at Qualia’s story, and slaps the table with an open palm and a deep-bellied guffaw.

”The perils of void-travel, am I right?” He takes a swig of his third…or maybe fourth…amasec, and scratches the neatly trimmed beard upon his strong chin.

”Technically, I suppose you could say it is a family vessel – though I’m the first to Captain it. I do not come from an illustrious Dynasty, or even an exceptionally wealthy family. But the vessel we had before was old, and in need of far more Thrones to keep it operational than was economic for us. I sold it after a particularly lucrative deal – bringing a shipment of munitions to a Fortress World beset by the savage Greenskins. We took a great deal of damage when we broke their blockade, but the pay out was enough to supplement the ship’s sale and buy this beauty. It may not look like much, but it’s home!” He does seem to have an inordinate amount of pride for the merchant-trader vessel. More than even some officers Qualia had encountered upon tried and tested Naval vessels.

When Qualia addressed the Astropath, he blinked milky white eyes in her general direction, but offered her a charming – if wizened – smile. ”It is is an honour to make your acquaintance, Mistress Mithras. It is so rare I get a chance to converse with another who’se talents lay parallel to my own. I would be pleased to speak at a later date if you are so inclined. Perhaps over a nice recaff?”

Captain Hathaway did not seem at all put off by Qualia’s deflection of his inquiry into the nature of their assignment. He shrugs his broad shoulders with a smile. ”That is fair. You’ll pardon my curiosity, I know it can be viewed as….dangerous.” He chuckles at that, which earns him a pleasant smile from Quayle and a scowl from Commander Roth.

When Qualia inquires about the extra training facilities, Commander Roth speaks up before the Captain has a chance to even open his mouth.

”We have exercise areas on most decks to keep the crew in a measure of health, and there are several firing ranges throughout the ship you are welcome to use. Your presence will not be troublesome to the security teams on the ship, I assure you. You have free run of our facilities, and there is a map of the Wayfarer in the ship’s database you may use to acclimate yourself to travel throughout the vessel if you are so inclined.”

Rather suddenly, the sound of heavy footfalls swiftly approaching echoes through the observation dome. A tall, broad shouldered man with a scarred face and a cybernetic eye enters in matte blue-grey carapace armour, a las pistol at one hip and a sword across his back approaches flanked by two others. They wear the flak vests and shotguns of the ship-board security detail.

”Captain Hathaway, please pardon the intrusion.” The man speaks with a heavily foreign accent. ”I have received word from the bridge crew that our Auguries have detected a distress signal originating from a vessel in the Yalpene System. It is a pilgrim ship – the Pride of Sacristan. Records show it has been listed as missing for the last decade. The distress signal is garbled…our vox officers have been unable to clarify the message.”

[ArendK]

Jericus looked up from his meal and amasec at the Captain and the carapace-armored man as he gave his report. The conversation had been so chipper up to this point, why kill an excellent meal with bad news? Alas, such is life. Jericus took a measured look at his fellow Acolytes before speaking.

"Captain, at the expense of sounding like the decision maker for our team or our organization, I don't think our mission to Aporia will be adversely affected if you decide to investigate or assist. That being said, it also sounds like trouble and I'm aware that this is not a combat ship, despite the combat capabilities of Commander Roth and her men."

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Qualia showed appreciation at Captain Hathaway's pride in his vessel. Certainly, within naval circles, officers who took pride in their ships and their crews tended to both last longer and be more accepted by the crew than those who only saw things as a stepping stone to something bigger.

As the conversation progressed, she graciously accepted Master Dumont's offer, while he most likely couldn't provide any help or training in the strictest sense, at least having another psyker to converse with could at lesat appraise her of perils or problems in the area.

The intrusion of the armsmen was somewhat of an unwelcome surprise, armsmen running around usually meant for imminent trouble, and Qualia found her hand drifting to where her pistol would have been had she worn it. Talk of a nearby distress signal gave her pause to relax somewhat, although she made mental note to remain armed for the forseeable future. She remained quiet as Captain Hathaway deliberated, this was his vessel and it was up to him to weigh his priorities. She'd learnt the hard way about offering up unsolicited advice to superior officers in times of crisis.

[Bennosuke]

Alaric shrinks slightly into his chair at the arrival of the armed guards, and takes a sigh of relief when it turns out he is not somehow at fault.

He then proceeds to continue stuffing his face while he listens into the conversation regarding the newly found Pride of the Sacrosanct. He new better than to stick his nose in where it did not belong, and his assistance would most likely be taken even if not offered.

[Lycan 01]

Ralix

Sipping his own amesac, Ralix listens along and nods thoughtfully, making mental footnotes as the conversation drifts and flows. When the Commander and Astropath enters, Ralix raises his glass to them in a gesture of greeting and respect. "Commander," he nods to her with the same brisk efficiency she shows others, before turning and smiling pleasantly to the Astropath. "A pleasure as well, Sir Dumont. So good to have you join us," he offers warmly, extending the same courtesy that the Astropath has shown, and letting the Psyker know that Ralix holds no hostility or disdain for his kind.

He chuckles along as the Captain quips about spoons and darkness, but when he asks about their mission, Ralix suddenly finds himself sipping from his amesac and showing no hurry to lower the glass. A subtle gesture of reticence to answer Captain Hathaway, without the offense of outright denial.

Thankfully, the conversation seems to move quick enough to divert attention away from that inquiry. Ralix listens with rapt attention as the Captain discusses his ship's history, and when the topic shifts to weapons training, the scholar beams with a bit of genuine enthusiasm. "Ah, so there are firing ranges and exercise areas open to us, then? Excellent." He pauses, suddenly looking a bit sheepish, and giving a nervous smile to his comrades. "I was hoping to perhaps get in some weapon practice and physical training before we made landfall. It's no secret that I'm the weakest member of the team, and... well... I don't desire to be a liability if we should find ourselves in combat or other hostile situations. Perhaps some lessons in hand-to-hand combat, or other weaponry besides my own?" he asks, giving a sheepish smile to Jericus, Qualia, and Lena in particular. He already knows he can count on Alaric and Nuric for lessons and training if need be, but the others have more professional (or fanatical) experience and training themselves, and likely better lessons to pass on to others.

Of course, when the armored armsmen enter, Ralix frowns and looks away in thought. "Yalpene... Sacristan..." he mutters to himself, trying to conjure up anything he's ever heard or read about them before.


Common Lore: Imperium, to recognize or know anything about Yalpene System or the ghost ship - [roll0] vs 46
Scholastic Lore: Legend, in case there are any urban legends, ghost stories, or other rumors around the disappearance of the Pride of Sacristan - [roll1] vs 46

[Sarak]

THE WAYFARER – THE WARP

Captain Hathaway takes a generous swig of his own amasec, before setting his glass down and digging into a hefty slab of grox steak with gusto. He pauses in his chewing for a moment, glancing up to Alaric. Swallowing his food, he wipes his mouth with a silk kerchief and offers the young man a wide smile.

”Aye lad, that can be arranged. We’ve got quite the journey ahead of us, and we’ll be dropping in and out of Warp to triangulate our position. It makes for a bit slower going, but in my experience it’s better than trusting the fickle currents of the Warp.” Captain Hathaway clears his throat, and whets it with another sip of amasec before turning his attention to Qualia. ”Well…before Master Bannon hired us, we spent most of our time transporting non-perishable and semi-luxury goods. Fine clothing, alcohol such as amasec or good vintage wines, even some exotic xenos hides once or twice; and I’m not too proud to admit I once transported a rather large hold full of obscura in my youth for some easy thrones. Most of my contracts are in the Korolan Sector, so that keeps us close to home, so they say. I tried bulk trading for a while; ore, water, corpse-rations…but the sheer volume required to turn a profit high enough to keep a ship running exceeded my storage space, alas. It was a bit safer, in the long run. Less chance of pirates trying to haul off a hundred and twenty thousand tons of fresh water!” He laughed, before taking another, much smaller bite of his food while the sound of footsteps echo through the observation dome.

Commander Roth, and another – a man who seems to have been aged prematurely, in rich robes and leaning heavily upon a gnarled staff made of fire-blackened wood - have entered and are making their way to the table.

Hathaway grins widely at their approach. ”Ascobel! Quayle! Good of you to join us! You’ll pardon that we’ve begun already, yes?” He gestures for the two new additions to take a seat, and Commander Roth helps the man called Quayle into a seat before taking one herself with a tight-lipped smile.

”Please, my friends, allow me to introduce you to Quayle Dumont. My chief Astropath.”

The wizened man, whose smile belies a sprightly youth that his weathered face does not show, smiles pleasantly and with a raspy voice speaks. ”It is a pleasure to meet you all.”

Hathaway snatches a piece of flatbread from the table, and begins to break it into small chunks which he uses to sop up the juices from his now demolished steak. ”Of course Master Zamir! I look forward to playing a few games. Usually I only get to play against Ascobel here, and with no small amount of humility I must admit that she usually trounces me soundlessly….and please!” He waves a hand dismissively, ”We are all friends here. Do not fret about such things as table manners. I trust that you have far more important things to worry about in the coming months than whether or not you use the right fork or spoon for your meal!” He laughs good-naturedly, but the point is very true: when one is expected to stare into the heresies that hide in the souls of mankind, what point is there to worry if you are using the salad fork or the meat fork?

As the meal progressed, Captain Hathaway seemed to get progressively friendlier – if such a thing were possible – while Quayle seems to simply pick at a light fare of the vegetables prepared at most. Commander Roth seems to have an appetite to rival that of Captain Hathaway, though her pace and manners are substantially more refined than the Captains. She also doesn’t seem to touch the amasec or the wines available at all.

”So, if I may be so bold as to ask…what is it exactly I am bringing you to Aporia to do?” Captain Hathaway finally asks. ”I know the basics about what Master Bannon has informed me of. Something about a missing ship? But the details have been left quite…vague.”

Nuric said a prayer of thanks for the food and tucked into the meal with gusto; aside from a few short visits by senior Ministorum officials on Hraline he'd had little chance to practice finer table manners, and had never made great strides to rectify the matter. He attempted to pick up what he could of Ralix's instruction, but was far more interested in the food itself. He was no stranger to such preparation, but had had limited resources during his days at the monastery. Through the years on Hraline it had become something of a hobby, and over the past year he'd taken great pleasure in sampling some of the finer cuisine in the Imperium - aside from gannic (which one had to get creative with when one had almost nothing BUT gannic). Even that oh-so-familiar bulb could be enhanced beyond what he was used to with the incredible variety of spices and seasonings available to the Captain's team.

Brother Nuric greeted the Commander and Dumont as they were introduced, unconciously making the sign of the Aquila at the sight of the latter. He smiled apologetically at the slight grimace on the Astropath's face when his gaze flicked across the robed monk; the Inquisitor DID warn him that his limiter wouldn't completely spare a psyker his presence, least of all an Astropath. He focused on his plate as the Captain queried on the nature of their mission, understanding the man's curiosity but recognizing that secrecy was their ally, and unsure that the Captain could hold his tongue.


When Qualia inquires about the extra training facilities, Commander Roth speaks up before the Captain has a chance to even open his mouth.

”We have exercise areas on most decks to keep the crew in a measure of health, and there are several firing ranges throughout the ship you are welcome to use. Your presence will not be troublesome to the security teams on the ship, I assure you. You have free run of our facilities, and there is a map of the Wayfarer in the ship’s database you may use to acclimate yourself to travel throughout the vessel if you are so inclined.”


"Ah, so there are firing ranges and exercise areas open to us, then? Excellent." He pauses, suddenly looking a bit sheepish, and giving a nervous smile to his comrades. "I was hoping to perhaps get in some weapon practice and physical training before we made landfall. It's no secret that I'm the weakest member of the team, and... well... I don't desire to be a liability if we should find ourselves in combat or other hostile situations. Perhaps some lessons in hand-to-hand combat, or other weaponry besides my own?" he asks, giving a sheepish smile to Jericus, Qualia, and Lena in particular. He already knows he can count on Alaric and Nuric for lessons and training if need be, but the others have more professional (or fanatical) experience and training themselves, and likely better lessons to pass on to others.

He nodded in agreement, glad that Qualia had fielded the question. It would certainly be worthwhile to polish his own skills, both under watchful eye and on his own, particularly given the length of their proposed journey through the dreaded Void. Not only would he be able to continue honing himself physically, but it would provide much needed distraction from their method of travel. He was no stranger to the use of a weapon - Caul himself had been a warrior, and the Brothers practiced regularly with limited drill - but in service to His Inquisition, a higher degree of martial ability was called for.


Rather suddenly, the sound of heavy footfalls swiftly approaching echoes through the observation dome. A tall, broad shouldered man with a scarred face and a cybernetic eye enters in matte blue-grey carapace armour, a las pistol at one hip and a sword across his back approaches flanked by two others. They wear the flak vests and shotguns of the ship-board security detail.

”Captain Hathaway, please pardon the intrusion.” The man speaks with a heavily foreign accent. ”I have received word from the bridge crew that our Auguries have detected a distress signal originating from a vessel in the Yalpene System. It is a pilgrim ship – the Pride of Sacristan. Records show it has been listed as missing for the last decade. The distress signal is garbled…our vox officers have been unable to clarify the message.”

"I'm sorry, Captain, I'm unfamiliar with the Yalpene System myself. Does it stand out as a particularly dangerous stretch of the Void?" Any more so than usual, he thought, uncomfortably aware of the dome and fields flickering above their heads separating them from the same.

[CrimsonKnight]

Lena was relieved that, for a man of his relative power and influence, the Captain was far more informal and easygoing than she'd expected. It was quite a relief after one too many arrogant spireborn nobles and stuffy Ecclesiarchs that she'd done her best to avoid back in Hive Grestian, which had been harder than one would expect given the stream of powerful people trying to curry favor with the Inquisitor. Yet another reason she was glad to be gone of the place. The food, once she'd finally worked up the courage to begin eating, was as delicious as it had looked and smelled, though her stomach was trying to rebel under the principle that nothing could taste this good without secretly being poison. The amasec was a bit weaker than the cheap rotguts she was used to drinking, but then again, it didn't leave a wicked aftertaste in her mouth that resembled paint thinner, so overall a net improvement, especially as there seemed to be enough amasec available at the table to make up for its relatively weaker punch. Despite all her previous misgivings, it was a lovely meal and as it progressed she gradually began to relax.

Commander Roth, and another – a man who seems to have been aged prematurely, in rich robes and leaning heavily upon a gnarled staff made of fire-blackened wood - have entered and are making their way to the table.

Hathaway grins widely at their approach. ”Ascobel! Quayle! Good of you to join us! You’ll pardon that we’ve begun already, yes?” He gestures for the two new additions to take a seat, and Commander Roth helps the man called Quayle into a seat before taking one herself with a tight-lipped smile.

”Please, my friends, allow me to introduce you to Quayle Dumont. My chief Astropath.”

The wizened man, whose smile belies a sprightly youth that his weathered face does not show, smiles pleasantly and with a raspy voice speaks. ”It is a pleasure to meet you all.”


She nodded respectfully to Commander Roth and Astropath Quayle as they made their late arrivals, and while the older man was busy conversing with Qualia, Lena turned to speak with the commander. "Thank you for your earlier assistance, Commander. The room was most satisfactory for my needs."

Ralix listens with rapt attention as the Captain discusses his ship's history, and when the topic shifts to weapons training, the scholar beams with a bit of genuine enthusiasm. "Ah, so there are firing ranges and exercise areas open to us, then? Excellent." He pauses, suddenly looking a bit sheepish, and giving a nervous smile to his comrades. "I was hoping to perhaps get in some weapon practice and physical training before we made landfall. It's no secret that I'm the weakest member of the team, and... well... I don't desire to be a liability if we should find ourselves in combat or other hostile situations. Perhaps some lessons in hand-to-hand combat, or other weaponry besides my own?" he asks, giving a sheepish smile to Jericus, Qualia, and Lena in particular. He already knows he can count on Alaric and Nuric for lessons and training if need be, but the others have more professional (or fanatical) experience and training themselves, and likely better lessons to pass on to others.

After a moment's consideration, Lena decided it was not the worst idea in the world. She did not particularly like Ralix, but if he was genuinely willing to work at improving his fighting skills, then she'd let him try. "If you are genuinely wanting it Ralix, I could put you through some basics on hand to hand fighting, though I make no promises it will be easy or that you will emerge unscathed. Although, this is giving me an idea..." She turned back towards Commander Roth. "Excuse me Commander, but I am wondering if you would consent to us having some joint training sessions with your ship's armsmen. Jericus and myself are both quite experienced combatants and the rest of our group has at least some skill at it, and I don't doubt we could learn a thing or two from each other and so improve everyone's combat abilities."

Rather suddenly, the sound of heavy footfalls swiftly approaching echoes through the observation dome. A tall, broad shouldered man with a scarred face and a cybernetic eye enters in matte blue-grey carapace armour, a las pistol at one hip and a sword across his back approaches flanked by two others. They wear the flak vests and shotguns of the ship-board security detail.

”Captain Hathaway, please pardon the intrusion.” The man speaks with a heavily foreign accent. ”I have received word from the bridge crew that our Auguries have detected a distress signal originating from a vessel in the Yalpene System. It is a pilgrim ship – the Pride of Sacristan. Records show it has been listed as missing for the last decade. The distress signal is garbled…our vox officers have been unable to clarify the message.”

The arrival of the ship's armsmen caused her to instantly tense up, and even after it was obvious there was no immediate threat, she remained uneasy at the message they had delivered. A pilgrim ship missing for a decade only to suddenly reappear? She had heard such things happened in the Warp sometimes, but it was still suspicious. Saving pilgrims of the God-Emperor was a noble task and all, but what if this was some sort of ambush or trap? And that didn't even factor in the importance of their own mission.

"Pardon Captain, but where is this Yalpene sector at? How much time would it add to our journey if we were to divert to it?"

[Erulasto]

THE WAYFARER - THE WARP

Prior to the arrival and interruption of the security officers, Commander Roth simply offered a polite nod to Lena for her thanks regarding the training room. The Commander listened, rather intently, to the suggestion by the Moritat Assassin that they try some joint training exercises.

"Indeed!" Commander Roth says, clearly impressed with the idea. "That would be an excellent idea. While our forces here on the Wayfarer are adept at dealing with pirates and other shipboard threats, having more experienced combatants to teach them some tricks would be a valuable resource." She turns to Captain Hathaway, as if seeking permission, to which he simply nods his acquiescence with a wide smile.



The mood of the meal had quickly darkened with the arrival of the Wayfarer's Master-at-Arms: Sergeant Sanje Gorram. His presence, along with the two other security officers seemed to put a frown onto Captain Hathaway's face. While Quayle simply looked perturbed, Commander Roth was outright scowling.

"Thank you, Sergeant Gorram." Captain Hathaway said, shaking his head slowly. "I appreciate you bringing this news to me." He glanced quizzically at Jericus when he spoke, before nodding thoughtfully.

"Aye....aye. We're not heavily armed, but I would think that a pilgrim ship would likely not find itselt beset by pirates or raiders after disappearing for a decade." Hathaway hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin with a thick finger idly.
It was Commander Roth who spoke up next.

"Brother Nuric, Lena, the Yalpene System is but a short detour from our present heading. It would extend the trip by only two or three days there and back again. It's a small system with no habitable worlds, if I recall correctly. Some long-range auguries to study the star at the systems heart, and it's certainly not within a region of space well-known to harbour fugitives from the Imperium or those with more...corsair-oriented ambitions."

Finally, Captain Hathaway sighs and shrugs his shoulders with a weary chuckle.

"Well, it seems to me that Master Bannon is paying us to serve the Inquisition. By that reckoning, I would say that you all have more of a stake in whether we investigate this distress signal than I. While I am loathe to leave a righteous citizen of the Imperium adrift in the void - especially pilgrims - I also accept that you are all in a better position to determine if this is a worthwhile use of your time."
Hathaway turns to the Acolytes with a charmingly amused smile. "If you wish us to investigate, we will. How may we serve the Inquisition?"



Common Lore (Imperium): The Yalpene System is a star system with a Type-M Red Dwarf star, and no planetary bodies. In fact, the entirety of the system is filled with a vast asteroid field that doesn't have much movement, caught as it is in a tidal orbit with the star. The only interest in the system is a single Adeptus Mechanicus Augury Station that monitors the star for some highly unusual gravimetric readings. The station is automated by servitors and cogitators, and has been in operation for a long while. Every few decades, a Mechanicus survey vessel is scheduled to come by and collect the data gleaned from the star for further compilation and study.

As far as the Pride of Sacristan, it's a pilgrim-ship that has been travelling the path of various patron saints for close to a millennia. Exceedingly old, it has been accorded great honours for its service to the Ecclesiarchy. Until its disappearance, that is.

Sacristan is a Shrine World, and the seat of the Ecclesiarchies power in the Korolan Sector. It's a large world, covered almost entirely in a seemingly endless garden of tombs, crypts and mausoleums. Aside from a few temple-cities, the planet is devoted to honouring the dead of the Imperium. A large fortress-monastery of the Sisters of the Ebon Chalice stand guard upon the surface, and each temple city houses a garrison for the Frateris Militia's.

Unfortunately, you didn't roll well enough to get the Scholastic Lore results. The Common Lore results had a bonus to them for easily accessible knowledge, so that was a success.

[ArendK]

Jericus stands calmly in at the table, nodding towards Captain Hathaway, then looks to his fellow Acolytes, gesturing to the door.

"If we may have a few moments to discuss this among ourselves, no disrespect intended." Jericus gestures to the hallway to the other Acolytes.

As they all gather in the hallway, Jericus makes a point to find a ventilator as he pulls out an LHO stick and lights it up, sending the smoke through the ventilator (and likely a purifier). He takes a long drag off it as he casually leans against the wall.

"Smells like trouble to me to have a missing ship start sending garbled distress signals. That being said, as part of the Inquisition, it's part of our job to find threats to the Imperium and its citizens. We're not in the ideal ship if something is massively wrong. If it's not raiders as Commander Roth thinks, then the problem is 'something else' and that 'something else' can be anything from equipment problems to Xenos and warp problems. While this is a deviation from our mission, I have a hunch the Interrogator and Inquisitor would understand either option given the information we have; so the decision falls to the 6 of us."

"Group decision. My vote is we go check it out, keeping the Wayfarer ready to get out as fast as possible in case there's trouble that between the ship and us we can't handle. I think Captain Hathaway has a few tricks up his sleeve if things get a little hairy..." Jericus remembered the Junior Officers story from earlier "but I wouldn't count on us being able to rely on raw firepower to get out if something is wrong."

"Where do you guys stand?"

[Bennosuke]

Alaric grins at Jericus' response, his blood boiling as he readied for the challenge. But instead he turns to Captain Hathaway and said, "What sort of support can you provide us as we board the ship? Any chance you want to spare some of your security detail?"

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir, Crashed Dinner Party

Ralix actually offers a meek little smile when Lena offers to give him some (probably painful) lessons. "I am willing to undertake training with you, yes. I know it will be difficult, but I am sure you will not cause me any permanent harm, and such temporary suffering would be far preferable than for me to be found lacking against the challenges of our investigations and enemies..." he nods solemnly.

When the group and Captain begin to discuss plans, Ralix listens along silently, though a small scowl does creep into his expression. He remains silent, though, until Jericus gestures for them to step outside.

He follows Jericus outside, wanting to speak with him in private. He expects Jericus[/u] to be level headed and professional about this, and he is not disappointed. Though Ralix doesn't agree with his plan, he can understand his reasoning. "I must say," Ralix finally speaks up with a small sigh, and a weary shake of his head, "There is something very awry about all this, I believe. I've heard of the Yalpene system, and it's an odd place. The whole system is nothing more than a giant asteroid field - no planets, just rocks, and they're all 'tide-locked' around a single star. The Adeptus Mechanicus has a research station there, but a ship only visits it every few decades. It's far from an active system, so I don't see much risk of pirates or other predators being found there... but also little chance of quick assistance for the stricken vessel, I'd also surmise."

He then allows himself a small frown. "This is a job for the Navy, not a merchant ship such as this. If we go to assist, the vessel or proper rescuers may suspect us as being opportunists or predators, rather than genuinely trying to assist. And that's assuming the ship is still fully unscathed. A decade in the Warp... there's all manner of things that could be wrong aboard the ship, such as mutation or recidivism among the crew, corruption or rebellion of the machine spirits... the chance of even momentary failures of the Gellar fields during those long years..." he shudders at the thought.

The nobleman shakes his head, and gives a firm scowl. "This vessel is likely not equipped for a proper rescue or recovery operation, and neither are we. Not without heavy risk of potential losses against unknown hostilities should we attempt to board or otherwise intervene. Surely the Navy will pick up the distress signal as well, or perhaps the Adeptus Mechanicus station will be able to pick up the signal and reroute it or trigger some sort of emergency beacon. Either way, [i]proper help will arrive sooner or later, and they can handle the situation far better than we can - nevermind the fact that we have orders to carry out an investigation for the Holy Inquisition, not go chasing ghost ships."

His scowl deepens, and it almost seems as though he's loath to say the words coming from his mouth. Steeling his resolve, or perhaps an internal struggle against his own empathy. "Our mission is clear, and we mustn't deviate from it. The ship is not our concern." He averts his gaze, glancing down at a particularly interesting scuff mark on the ancient floor beneath their feet. "Besides, the passengers are pilgrims. Faithful and devoted to the Emperor. He will known His own, regardless of what their fate was, or shall be..." he mutters, as if mostly to himself.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

The psyker pondered. On the one hand, every ship was one drive failure away from sending a distress call, and pilgrim ships were always partcularly vulnerable, being full of passengers who tended to panic rather than voidfarers who tended to help. Still, this wasn't a navy cruiser, this was a transport ship, and all manner of things could easily get in their way. Much as she didn't want to admit it, Ralix had a point

"I have to agree. Much as I hate to leave the faithful flock in that situation, this ship isn't the best suited to render assistance, even assuming everything goes well. Given we barely received the message, I think we send alerts to the Navy and the Mechanicum appraising them of the situation, then we move on. We already have one missing ship on our plate waiting for us at our destination."

[CrimsonKnight]

Lena found herself strongly torn over what to do. It would only add a few days to their journey time, and given that it was already going to take them three months to reach Aporia, whatever was happening there would either have happened long before they arrived even without the detour or unlikely to be affected significantly by the small delay. On the other hand, it was a risk. As Ralix was so clearly laying out, the Wayfarer was not properly equipped at all if this rescue turned out to be an ambush or feint of some sorts by unknown hostiles. She sighed as she came to a decision.

"I must agree with Ralix and Qualia. We known nothing about the ship or whatever may be on it. There is too much unknown, too much risk. What happens if there is a threat that is too much for Wayfarer and she is disabled or damaged... or worst? There may be pilgrims in need on that ship, but what of the people on Aporia who would be at risk from whatever disappeared the city if we never are arriving to find out and stop it? How long would it take the Inquisitor to even notice us missing in the middle of the void, much less assign another team to take over the mission? Aporia is our priority, and something that would risk it is something we cannot be of doing. It would be disobeying the Inquisitor to do otherwise. We must continue with our mission."

[ArendK]

Jericus took another long draw off his LHO stick. Nodding his head in deferment to the groups apparent decision.

"Just from the three of you, seems pretty obvious as far as what we are doing. They're valid points; so I won't actively argue it. But I will point out that Ralix, you mentioned the Emperors favor and his will determining the fate of the pilgrims; would it not be a stretch to believe that we are the will of the Emperor in this case? It just so happens that the one ship that comes across this mysterious vessel in trouble contains members of the Inquisition, the vigilant eyes of the Imperium sworn to find the enemies of the hearts and minds of its people? The Emperors favor comes in many forms I think."

[Lycan 01]

Ralix can't help but sigh, shoulders slumping. He paces a few steps from side to side, folding his arms against his chest and looking down in thought. After a few moments, he shakes his head, before turning to lean against the wall next to Jericus. He glances at the Guardsman, offering a somber little frown. "As much as I want to be an instrument of divine intervention, and perhaps save some lost faithful from a potentially unspeakable fate... we have our orders. And even if nothing goes awry, or we do accomplish something righteous and just, what will it say about us when the Interrogator finds out we went off course to go chasing ghosts? How will the Inquisitor react when he finds out some of his Acolytes went off-mission? Perhaps he might approve. Perhaps..." he says grimly, letting the implications hang in the air. "We are the earthly agents of the God-Emperor, yes, but we already have orders through which we are expected to serve him..."

After a heavy pause, he glances at Alaric and Nuric. The hot-blooded ganger and the unshakeable Untouchable. Perhaps not the best folks to trust with the deciding votes on a potential suicide mission. "Well?" Ralix asks with a dry smile, half-expecting to know the unfortunate answers they're about to give. "Your votes will decide it - we've got three nays and one aye so far. You can either put this to bed, or we can go let the Captain know we've got a split vote and it's up to his discretion..." he says with a non-committal shrug.

[Erulasto]

THE WAYFARER – THE WARP

As per Jericus’ request for the rest of the Acolytes to join him outside, Captain Hathaway offers a friendly smile, and while Commander Roth offered a rather tight-lipped glare in their general direction Astropath looked uncomfortably troubled and the Sergeant bore an impassive, hard-eyed stoicism. ”A few security details could be provided if it’s necessary, and we have a fair surplus of medical supplies as well, lad.” The Captain says in response at last to Alaric’s inquiry of assistance and support in their endeavors.

Outside in the hall, they Acolytes are plunged into silence as the gentle murmurings of the Captain and the rest of the command staff in the Observation Dome are muted by the heavy blast doors. There is no trace of movement or activity in the hall, and it is easily surmised that they are – at least for now – truly alone.

When a general consensus had been reached by the Acolytes, they returned the Observation Dome without much fanfare. At their arrival, Captain Hathaway stood from his seat at the table – a measure of respect for their presence – and gave them a ponderous smile.

”I assume you have reached a decision then?”

The news that the Wayfarer would not be stopping to render assistance did not seem to phase Captain Hathaway; nor Commander Roth for that matter. Quayle still held a troubled expression on his wizened, frowning face but there was a distinctive disgust in the eyes of Sergeant Gorram, though he seemed wise enough to hold his tongue.

”Very well then, Sergeant. Please inform the bridge crew to send an astropathic message to the nearest Naval yard and then be on our way.” The Sergeant nodded curtly, before leaving the Dome with a brisk pace – still flanked by both of the Security officers.

The Captain sat back in his seat, and took a small sip of his amasec with a sigh. ”Please, pardon the interruption my friends. The God-Emperor’s work is never done, am I right?” He grins, and leans back in his chair with a relaxing sigh.

The rest of the meal passes with little incident.



THE WAYFARER – APORIA SYSTEM
3.344.982.M41

Three months aboard the Wayfarer had forced the Acolytes into the routines that generally accompanied long voyages through the Warp. For some, like Qualia and perhaps Jericus the routine was something familiar. Safe.

The crew went out of their way to make the Acolytes feel as welcome as they could, and despite their initial trepidation at having members of the Holy Inquisition aboard, by the end of the voyage many had warmed up to them considerably.

True to his word, Captain Hathaway had allowed for any of the Acolytes access to the Command Bridge, especially young Alaric. By the end of the three month voyage, Captain Hathaway had even allowed the youthful scum the honour of piloting the ship for a couple hours under the constant watchful gaze of several of the ships officers and navigators.

Exercise halls and shooting ranges had been made fully available, and in an uncharacteristic show of companionship, Commander Roth converted one of the presently unused cargo holds into a maze-like battlefield of shipping crates, empty promethium barrels, and cargo containers for joint training exercises.

Many of the security teams cleaved to Jericus, and frequently invited him to share a drink and a meal with them in their off hours. Lena even found herself the subject of a number of admirers from among various stations and duties in the crew; there was something frightening and yet inspiring, and the assassin found herself occasionally being spied upon by various youthful members of the Wayfarer’s crew while she trained.

The Master of Etherics, Quayle, kept true to his word and frequently sought out Qualia while she was not otherwise occupied and discussed matters pertaining to both the Warp, void-travel and their shared experiences in the Imperial Navy. It seemed the wizened Astropath was a former Naval brat who had his old commanding officer send him off to the Black Ships when he manifested his Psyker Gifts somewhat later in life. The irony was that he was once lauded for his keen eyesight…and now it was a different sight that his superiors favoured.

Ralix found a veritable treasure trove of information in the ship databases, as Captain Hathaway was a fan of keeping meticulously detailed journals of all his travels – even the blatantly dull ones, like a two week long trip between a salt mine and a world that produced salt-dried corpse rations in the heart of the Korolan Sector.
Captain Hathaway also indulged Ralix frequently in Regicide and amasec, though not all the bottles they consumed with of such an exquisite vintage as that first bottle they’d shared over dinner.

There was plenty of opportunity to speak with the various crew, and despite the obvious discomfort his presence initially was causing in the young man, Brother Nuric found a sympathetic ear in the ships Confessor: a youthful, blonde haired man with burn scars around his left eye, temple and cheek named Ferdinand Uhlando. He welcomed Brother Nuric into the ships Temple and shrines like a long-lost brother and offered many hours of debating scripture and other theological ideas.

After many, many long days the Acolytes were roused from their sleep in the wee hours of what local time would classify as the morning with a vox message from Ensign Juniper Lee, a youthful vox-operator on the bridge.

”I apologize for the interruption, sirs and madam’s, but Captain Hathaway asked me to give you a wake-up call as we will be transiting into the Aporia System momentarily. He’s asked you to join him on the bridge.”

[Bennosuke]

Alaric had spent the last few months, surprisingly busy for some underhive thug. He had spent his time between the ship’s Command Bridge studying how to be a pilot, pouring over data files regarding their mission, and training combat skills with the rest of the Acolytes. Most nights saw Alaric too exhausted to gamble or drink heavily, though that didn’t mean he was completely behaved during the trip, and once or twice had come stumbling to his companions with one too many drinks in his gut.

Awoken groggily, Alaric threw his leather jacket over a dirty undershirt and rushed to the bridge to join his fellow Acolytes. He had paid to heed to any form of proper morning hygiene, as this could possibly be urgent news.

[Sarak]

Brother Nuric thought often of the souls aboard the Pride of Sacristan during their months in transit. He still believed that they had made the right decision in carrying on towards their destination; the Wayfarer was, as pointed out, ill-equipped to perform a naval rescue. More importantly, while others could be sent to assist them, there were no others properly suited to the investigation on Aporia, where an entire world could potentially be in jeopardy. Still, his heart was heavy for them despite steeled resolve, and he prayed for them often.

Over the past three months he'd taken up most opportunities to develop and hone his own skills, spending countless hours in drill and at range. Gone was the discomfort he'd once felt with weapons of war, replaced with something akin to skill - at least with his chosen few. He'd gone through as much reading as his tired eyes would allow, both on Aporia and the wider picture of the Imperium and Inquisition. He'd spoken at length with the Captain and some members of the crew, as well, seeking any edge in the coming investigation. He felt as though the time had been well spent, and would yet bear fruit should their efforts expose anything on the watery agri-world.

During those moments not committed to training or delving into endless streams of data, Nuric spent some of his time engaged in debate with Ralix over amasec and Regicide, or theological discourse with Confessor Uhlando. Alaric had been a slippery one to pin down; Nuric had made several attempts to discuss the Imperial Creed with him during and after evening meals, as the young man's familiarity with such was sorely lacking, but he'd quickly become enamoured of the vessel's piloting functions and spent much of his free time on the ship's bridge. He'd politely avoided pressing too hard with Quayle or Qualia; the size of the ship afforded such luxuries, something that they'd be stripped of during transit to the surface and possibly during accommodations planetside. Jericus had been good company when not pulled away for drink and tale by the shipboard security teams, and continued calisthenics with the man proved to show results (including a few extra movements that Qualia was kind enough to demonstrate as beneficial to shipborne life). He had even had a few sparring sessions with Lena, brushing up on his dulled martial ability (though he spent the vast majority of those sessions on the defensive; her skill far outstripped his own). The Captain had been good company when duties permitted, though he'd had difficulty finding common ground with Commander Roth as the trip crawled on.


Brother Nuric was already awake and finished with his morning prayers when the vox came in; he'd led nightsong for those crew able to attend for the second time last night, with Confessor Uhlando's blessing, and had decided to rise early for a bit of martial practice and warmup before joining the calisthenics route. That will have to wait, he thought, returning his gear to storage beneath his bed. He rose and joined his comrades outside, making his way to the bridge along a path that by now had become familiar.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Quaila Mithras

The three months aboard the Wayfarer seemed to disappear just as Qualia found herself in routine again. While she'd given the official documents another few attempts, they'd bested her on every occasion, so instead she'd saught to expand her horizons in other directions instead. Given her inexperience, practice in the Warp seemed a poor idea, although Quayle had been kind enough to provide guidance on these matters. His conversation had been very enlightening, and many an evening had been spent story trading of both vessel encounters and shipborne life. Indeed, if she ever did find her way returned to His Most Holy Battlefleets, she had a few new tricks to play on the newer recruits.

Commander Roth had also been delightful company, the two had had many delightful encounters, either on duty, overseeing some of the other party members as they came to grips with the vessel herself, and off duty in the officers mess. She certainly carried a measure of pain for the loss of the Templar's Verdict, despite it not being her doing. Still, Qualia felt she had helped the Commander unpack some of the pain, a small payment for their cooperation in moving the party.

The journey had not all been social calls however. While Jericus and Lena were best suited for providing weapons training to those that required it, she'd helped where she could, as well as taking some of their expert guidence. She'd also caused a measure of controversy after 'cheating' on one of the joint training exercises, exploiting an under floor crawlspace to come up behind the opposing team, a trick often played in training exercises aboard His Light. Certainly none of crew of the Wayfarer would forget that the interior of a vessel was as three dimensional as the outside of it any time soon.

The early morning wake up call had given her what would probably be her final taste of naval life for the time being, before returning to the suspicions of dirt side existence. She quickly made herself presentable, gathered her things and headed for the bridge, all ready to depart.

For the most part, Qualia has been spending the 3 months under Quayle's tutelage, attempting to improve her abilities to stave off the effects of the Warp while using powers. I'm not sure if this translates into anything, but I figure I won't get many opportunities to learn from a Psyker who is expected to use their abilities while in the Warp

[CrimsonKnight]

The first words out of Lena's mouth as she stumbled towards consciousness were a blistering series of swears that would have been enough to peel paint and make a hardened Krieg Guardsman blush, or at least would if anyone else on the ship actually spoke the tribal dialect of her cursing. The tone certainly conveyed the point across, though after a moment she forced herself to shut up as she blearily cracked an eye open. No need to take it out on the poor man, it wasn't as if he was anything other than the messenger in this case, and it was a message she had been expecting and waiting for the last several days. Besides, he was neither the one responsible for making her drink a little too much the night before nor the other reason why she was short on sleep, she mused to herself as she glanced briefly at the lump hidden under the covers on the far side of her bunk. Pulling herself to her feet with a yawn, she switched on the room's glow globes before turning to the voxcaster and pressing the transmit button.

"Thank you, Ensign. I will be up there shortly."

As she released the vox, there was the sound of rustling sheets, and she turned towards her bunk with a smile as a messy head of raven-colored hair belonging to the aforementioned 'other reason' poked itself out, blinking her eyes.

"Morning. Time to wake up. Early day today, I'm afraid."

Eight Hours Earlier
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Lena sighed as she glanced over the quiet storage bay from her perch atop a storage container. Despite the hour growing late, there was a small bustle of activity on the far side of the compartment from the ship's crew what with the ship due to arrive at Aporia within a day or two. The warp transit had not been unpleasant, though she was glad it would be over soon and she could set her feet onto actual ground again. She'd kept busy as much as possible, training and sparring with both her fellow acolytes as well as the ship's armsmen. When she wasn't busy with that or with meditating in her quarters while listening to dataslates of prayers and instructions provided by her master to aid her in further training herself in the Moritat code, she'd spent a good deal of time wandering the ship much as she had the hive previously. Partly it was to familiarize herself thoroughly with the ship's layout should the need ever arise in an emergency (which, thankfully, it hadn't), but it also helped to continue acclimating herself. The walls of steel of both the ship and before that the hive were so different from what she'd grown up in and it frustrated her to no end that, despite being able to find her way through a dense jungle with ease, she still couldn't sometimes take two turns without getting lost inside artificial surroundings. It was a weakness she was determined to fix, and the best way to do so was to keep wandering until it became as natural as the wilderness was to her.

That was the theory anyway, but at least she'd managed to discover this bay on one of her walkabouts. It's massive size helped when she felt too crowded and claustrophobic in her quarters. The ship's crew, once they realized she was mostly just sitting in a corner by herself and not touching anything, tended to ignore her as they went about their duties. Well, apart from the constant gawking from some of the younger crewmembers, but she supposed that was unavoidable. Nobody but the Captain and a handful of his senior officers even knew they were transporting agents of the Inquisition. To the rest of the crew, they were mysterious but clearly very important individuals, and unlike her companions, Lena hadn't gone out of her way to be sociable or make friends. There were the training sessions sure, but that was mostly with the ship's armsmen and they much preferred socializing with Jericus off-duty. So it was perhaps inevitable, between her physical attractiveness, aloof nature, and hinted-at deadliness that she'd managed to attract her fair share of individuals gazing at her from what they thought to be a safe distance. Like the group of junior officers hovering a few dozen meters down the bay just now, who were alternating between examining the various crates and containers and sneaking peeks at her repeatedly. It annoyed her slightly as she preferred anonymity when dealing with other people whenever possible, but over the voyage she'd learned to just ignore them. It wouldn't be a problem once she had left the ship.

She sighed again and took a sip from the bottle Jericus had managed to acquire from one of his new friends in the ship's guards. It was nowhere as refined as the amasec the captain had shared freely at his dinner table, but it was far from the worst Lena had drunk before and it did the job well enough for her. She just wished the journey was over already. The vagaries of warp travel meant they could never be absolutely certain of the exact time when they would arrive. She was too eager to get moving and begin the mission. Even her training and meditation earlier that day had done nothing to ease her impatience. She didn't usually resort to drinking as a means to pass the time, but having exhausted her other options, it was her only fallback. The sound of footsteps brought her out of her musings, and she raised her head as one of the crewman was nervously approaching her holding an oversized dataslate like it was a shield.

"Um... ex-excuse me miss, but I, err..." Lena fought the urge to roll her eyes as she responded. "Yes, can I help you?"

"Apo-apologies, miss, I'm just trying to finish the... finish the inventory before we... we arrive so that if... so we know what..." The poor girl was fidgeting so hard Lena half expected her to wear a hole in the floor. She came to her feet smoothly and nodded to the woman. "Please, go ahead. I will not be interfering with your duties."

Stepping aside, she watched as the woman examined each of the crates in turn, occasionally tapping keys on her dataslate to input or change data on the pad. Finally, the officer straightened up and gave a grateful nod to Lena. "Th-thank you, I'm done with the... the inventory now. I'm sorry for the bother, um... I mean, I won't bother you..."

Lena shook her head. "It is no bother. I was in your way, you needed to complete your duties, I respect this. You have done nothing wrong."

The young officer seemed highly embarrassed at how nervous she was acting, but to her credit managed to firm herself up and respond. "Sorry. I'm being terribly rude and... you're a guest, an important one, and also scary, and the inventory needed to be done but the others were all too scared to come nearby you and I finally volunteered so we could get off duty and I'm rambling now and making things worst and-"

She was stunned into silence when, contrary to whatever else she might have thought would happen, Lena burst out laughing so hard she doubled over for a moment. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry... haha. Forgive me. If anyone is being rude, it is me. I suppose I let my reputation get too much without doing anything to dispel it until everyone is acting like I am a rogue ambull waiting to tear them apart. Let me make it up to you by offering a drink of this... well, it's not amasec, but it won't kill you anyway."

After a moment spent staring at Lena as though she thought this was a joke of some kinds, the woman finally spoke. "A drink? ...really?"

Lena nodded. "Yes. We share a drink, we talk for a bit until you are not so scared of me anymore, and then you can go about your business. As a bonus, you can rub it in with your friends later that they're a bunch of cowards and that only you had the nerve to talk with me and lived to tell the tale."

The woman blinked once or twice while glancing towards the small group of crewmen who were no longer even making any pretense of staring at Lena before returning her nod. "Well... okay then, sure. I'm off-duty now that the inventory is done, so it's fine. As long as I'm not interrupting you doing anything... important?"

Lena snorted as she took a seat on the crate she'd been lounging on earlier and dug through the small bag she'd been carrying the bottle and the small meal tin she'd eaten earlier in before drawing out a relatively clean-looking glass. She poured a generous amount of the brown liquor into the glass and handed it over to the woman. "The only thing you have interrupted is me drinking alone, and that rarely ends well so I am grateful for it. Please, have a seat."

At her invitation, the woman seated herself as well, and after Lena raised the bottle in an impromptu toast, the two of them both took a sip. 'So, what is your name?"

"It's... Seras. Deck Lieutenant Seras Glaston, ma'am." Lena gave a dismissal shrug. "Lena, please. No need for to be formal. You are not on duty as you said, and I prefer to avoid such things when I can. So, tell me a little about yourself."

With Lena's encouragement, Seras began to share with her about her duties and responsibilities on the ship, about her past growing up on a hive world not dissimilar to the one they'd most recently departed from and her desire to leave it behind and find someplace, anyplace, better than the miserable planet she'd been born on. About how she'd managed to sign on with the Wayfarer when it was recruiting new crewmembers as the means to finally leave and find some new, better planet to call home only to discover after a few months onboard that she liked life shipboard far more than she'd ever anticipated. How her hard work ethic and modest education were enough to move her up from lower-deck drudgery to being a petty officer serving under the ship's Bosun and finally her promotion to a full officer and the respect and responsibility that came with it. As she continued to speak, she gradually began to loosen up in Lena's presence until her stammering and pauses had all but disappeared and she seemed far more at ease. Lena mostly just listened and followed as best she could, only occasionally interjecting to ask a question or clarification in Seras' story. Once Seras was finished, Lena spent a little while talking about her own past growing up on the jungle moon of Tarth, being taken off-world, and her eventual joining of the Moritat cult, though she noticeably omitted quite a few details and made no attempt to explain why she was onboard. The bottle was noticeably emptier by the time she finished speaking and the two spent a minute or two in comfortable silence before Seras spoke up again.

"May I ask a personal question?” When Lena made no attempt to stop her, she continued on. ”Why do you keep yourself so apart from others? I mean, I know you and your companions must have some gravely important secret task for the captain to treat you all as honored guests, but that hasn’t stopped them from seeking out companionship with the ship’s crew. You though… unless it’s part of your admittedly impressive training or required duties, you try to avoid people whenever possible. Even, if you’ll pardon me for saying so, with your companions sometimes it seems. It just seems so lonely.”

Lena said nothing for over a minutes and Seras was becoming convinced she’d tripped on an invisible landmine when the red-haired woman began to speak. "It is… necessary. I could lie and say it is my way of coping with all the strangeness and wonders I have experienced since leaving my home that still threaten to overwhelm me. But the truth is that I must keep that divide, that separation, to best complete my duty. My… purpose."

Seras was reluctant to ask the question on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t stop herself. ”And what is that, Lena?”

In response, Lena’s hand came down to rest on one of the sheathed knives strapped to her chest. "It is what your crewmates no doubt sometimes whisper about late at night when they are sure I am nowhere nearby. Why I was taken off my world. Why I am here now. I am a slayer, death-dealer, nightshade, and a hundred other equally unsettling names. A killer. I kill. Every part of me is dedicated to this one talent."

Truthfully, Lena more than half expected her to run and flee, denounce her, or at least to show fear or disgust. Yet, apart from a slight widening of her eyes, Seras did not move or say anything. After a moment, she continued. "It is not an easy thing to do. Some may find it so and can casually take a man’s life as easily and with as little thought as crushing an insect. Some even find pleasure in the act. But I cannot allow myself to feel this way. I am a tool, a weapon. At this very moment I am no more dangerous to you than a blade in its sheath, but when called I must be able to kill without any feeling or emotion to cloud my judgement. So, I avoid attachments, entanglements. It is… easier to do what I do if I maintain such distance from people."

She took a pull of the bottle, then looked apologetically at Seras who still seemed to be processing everything she’d heard. It occurred to her that this was the most she’d talked about herself in months if not years with anyone, that she’d never expressed any doubts like this even to her fellow acolytes or her master in the Moritat. "If I have unsettled you, I apologize. It was not my intention. This… I do not talk about this with anyone. I should not have. It was a mistake."

To her surprise, Seras shook her head. ”It’s alright. I, well… I won’t ask why you do it. I’m just a hab girl who spends her days now watching cargo shipments and making sure everything is exactly where it should be, so I’m no expert, but there’s plenty of people that must do similar things as you. The Guard for one like your companion Jericus, they have to fight and kill xenos and heretics constantly just to protect the Imperium. The Navy too, we’d never be able to travel planet to planet if they weren’t battling and killing the same and pirates as well. And the Arbites, they have to deal with criminals and other scum that don’t respect the law, some of them need killing too. And other people and organizations too who serve the Imperium. The point is, I’m not scared.”

She smiled. ”You may not know it but out in the void there’s a thousand and one ways you can die at any moment. In just this one compartment, there could be a hull breach or a fire from the cables or some volatile cargo in one of these containers could decide to go off at any time. You’re dangerous, sure… but not to me, not right now. Which I guess sounds funny when my friends and I have spent the entire voyage watching you without daring to even come within five meters. Blame that cheap rotgut you had me drink with you.”

Lena managed to look momentarily stunned before lightly chuckling. "Fair enough. And thank you. This evening was… well, much more enjoyable than I expected when I started it. One more drink before we turn in? It is getting to be late I think and I would prefer to be fully rested when we arrive."

In lieu of responding, Seras held out her empty glass for Lena to pour a small dollop into it. After both had taken a long sip, Seras gave Lena a meaningful look. ”I do stand by what I said earlier. It does seem rather lonely to live like that.”

Lena gave a small sigh. "It can be, yes. When I am focused on my duties, it is not a problem. When I have nothing to do but sit and drink… it can be a little painful sometimes. I am used to the loneliness. But I am grateful you have lessened it nonetheless with your company. Although..."

Through the haze of the alcohol, a thought was beginning to coalesce. Words that had been said and hadn't been said. It was something she didn't normally consider, but there was an opportunity if she was willing to chance it. "I have a question for you. Feel free to say no, I will not take it poorly and still be grateful for your companionship this evening. But, well..."

It was unlike her to hesitate so, and after a moment she forced herself to forge ahead. "I am wondering if you... would like to make it feel just a little less lonely."

To illustrate what she was finding so difficult to say out loud, Lena grabbed the glass from Seras and proceeded to gulp down the last of the liquor, her lips resting on the rim of the glass where Seras' had been only moments earlier. Seras, to her credit, managed to maintain her calm at the suggestion that Lena couldn't bring herself to say out loud. She glanced back towards the far side of the bay where her shipmates had been gathered earlier only to notice that they'd disappeared hours ago once they realized that nothing unpleasant was going to happen to their fellow officer, gotten bored at just watching without being able to overhear the quiet conversation, and left, leaving the two of them alone in the compartment. "I, um... that's... yes. Yes, I would."

Lena came to her feet a trifle unsteady from the alcohol she'd consumed, and when it became apparent that Seras was still too stunned to move, gently pulled her to her feet and nudged her towards one of the hatches. "This way. My room is private. We won't be, ah... disturbed."

-------------------------------------------------------------

Lena still had the smile on her face even as she picked her way through the mess of clothing strewn across the cabin's floor, occasionally tossing a piece of uniform that definitely didn't belong to her onto the bed where Seras was still huddled under the blanket. The two dressed in silence, and it was only as Lena was buckling on her weapons that Seras cleared her throat. "Um, so... that was something. Not at all how I expected my night to go, but it was good. Err... I hope I wasn't a disappointment or..."

Lena smirked. "Not even remotely. I don't regret it at all and I hope you don't either. It was... good. But now, we are to be arriving. I have my duties to attend to, and you as well I am sure."

"Oh, I do. Cargoes to be loaded and unloaded, invoices and inventories to be made. Port calls are always my busiest days. Um... I don't really know how to do this morning after and I'm still not convinced I was all that impressive and..."

Any further words were silenced by Lena's lips on her own, and when Lena pulled back to finish dressing in her gear, she was amused to see the flush on Seras' face. "Farewells are not complicated. Whether we cross paths again or not, I will remember this night fondly. And if I ever find myself on this ship again... well, we'll see then, I suppose."

With a (mostly) casual wave, she opened the hatch and stepped into the ship's passageway.

Lena emerged from her quarters looking, despite the bags under her eyes indicating a lack of sufficient sleep, both restless and eager at the news they were due to arrive shortly. She nodded to her companions in turn as they formed up one by one in the passageway though she stayed quiet as usual.

[Erulasto]

THE WAYFARER - APORIA SYSTEM

3.344.982.M41

The bridge of the Wayfarer was as grand as any of those that were born upon the kilometer long keel of a void ship. It had high, vaulted ceilings with grandoise arched collonades and tall balconies that overlooked a pit of cogitators, auger arrays and servitors. Each of the balconies was linked by heavily reinforced and decorated bridges and causeways. Impossibly tall arched cathedral-like windows covered an entire wall, revealing the length of the Wayfarer stretching out before the bridge crew.

Captain Hathaway sat upon a high-backed chair - much like a throne - upon a raised dias that overlooked the rest of the bridge.

"Welcome, my friends!" He bellowed in greeting, causing several of the uniformed crew hovering over their controls and displays to glance up in their direction. A young, red-headed lass gave Alaric a shy smile from one of the pilot stations: Ensign Leah Cooper.

The massively tall windows didn't just show the breadth of the ship stretching out before them. It also showed a truly colossal world covered in wispy grey clouds over an endless expanse of deep, dark blue seas. A single voidstation hung in a low orbit, connected to a crescent-moon shaped island by a sturdy space elevator. The island was the only land mass visible save for the jagged ice flows and polar caps in the North and South of the world.

Commander Roth was there as well, standing next to a holo-display that showed a recreated image of the vessel itself with various data packets floating across the display.

"Welcome to Aporia!" The Captain came down from the command throne and approached the Acolytes with a wide smile. "I've business to attend on the void-station, and you're free to join me if you'd like to see the great lift first-hand but I've already told Commander Roth to prep the Lander to bring you right to the capitol building to meet the Governor. The choice is yours!"

[Bennosuke]

Alaric could not help but stare wide eyed, mouth slightly open at the beautiful scene stretching out before him. Warp travel was more than disturbing, but moments like this were causing Alaric to fall in love with Space.

And speaking of love... Alaric caught Ensign Leah's glances, and responded with a toothy and cocky grin; making sure to be less than subtle. He had noticed the Ensign's attention a few times now during his trip to The Bridge and The Command Deck, but hadn't found the opportunity to introduce himself yet; yes, that was why he hadn't spoken to her yet, he hadn't had the opportunity.



"Welcome to Aporia!" The Captain came down from the command throne and approached the Acolytes with a wide smile. "I've business to attend on the void-station, and you're free to join me if you'd like to see the great lift first-hand but I've already told Commander Roth to prep the Lander to bring you right to the capitol building to meet the Governor. The choice is yours!"

"I'd be happy to accompany you to the void-station Captain," Alaric said in his most confident voice so that Ensign Leah was sure to hear.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

"Indeed, I believe starting at the orbital would be beneficial. They should have a better idea of the lay of the ground, and hopefully can fill us in on any developments of the last few months"

[CrimsonKnight]

Lena wasn't too proud to admit that the view of the planet down below them was truly impressive. It almost made up for the unsettling sight of the Warp their first night onboard the ship. She forced herself to look away as the Captain approached them. She was all too eager to travel down to the planet and feel soil under her feet again even if there was precious little of it on the ocean planet, but she acknowledged that there might be some value in visiting the void station.

"I would prefer to head straight down, but if the rest of you wish to see this station first I suppose I can be patient."

[Bennosuke]

Alaric turns to Lena with a smirk and a shrug and says, "The good Captain has been kind enough to shuttle us this far. I think the least we could do is accompany him to the Void Station." He flashes his best attempt at a charming grin, and then in a lowered voice whispers, "And I have an idea or two about how it may help our investigation." He gives a second smaller shrug, then turns to the rest of the group, forehead glowing slightly red.

Following the group's meeting, but prior to departing the bridge, Alaric wanders his way over to where Ensign Leah is busy working. He flashes his best charming grin, and props his hands on his hips, bending his neck sideways as if he is carefully appraising her work. "So, what are we working so hard at," he says still grinning, "If you don't mind me asking." Alaric made sure to be just a little closer than necessary, his voice slightly hushed as if the two were sharing an intimate moment.

[Lycan 01]

Ralix - Entering Aporia System

Ralix grunts a bit as he's awoken. "Right... yes... awake... waking up..." he grumbles, rolling around in his bunk to keep himself from balling back asleep. The familiar voice of the vox officer was normally something he wouldn't mind, but not at this hour. He was always a light sleeper, and his body screamed at him to go back to the slumber he rarely got to enjoy. Still, the Emperor's work is never done...

Eventually crawling out of bed, the young nobleman tries to freshen up and make himself look presentable. Black greatcoat neatly buckled around his small frame, hair pulled back neatly into a long ponytail, a quick shave... if they're to be making landfall soon, he shouldn't look like a scruffy ruffian, after all.

Sauntering out into the hallway, Ralix can't help but yawn. Stretching his arms, he glances around at the rest of his gathering comrades. "Morning..." he mutters, raising a hand in a weak wave. He cracks a tired little smile at his comrades. "So nice to see I'm not the only one who wishes he was still asleep..."

As he turns to walk with the rest of the team towards the bridge, his mind begins to wander back over the last few months, and ponder on how well spent his time was...



Ralix left no logs unchecked, ravenously devouring the records of every Warp jump, every planet and void station visited, every bit of cargo brought aboard, unloaded, or happened upon. He couldn't help but smile softly as he began to notice patterns, regular routes and business transactions, broken up by strange diversions of course, less traveled paths, or visits to worlds of little economic interest. Inquisitorial business, no doubt, though the Captain had done an excellent job of letting the cargo records for those visits remain either totally innocuous, or somehow become corrupted and inaccessible due to temperamental machine spirits and nothing more.

As for his actual time with the Rogue Trader, Ralix spent much of it exchanging victories in regicides, glasses of amesac, and stories of the stars with the good Captain. He prodded and questioned about everything from the Captain's own history, or what little he's willing to share of it, to his favorite planets to have visited or most memorable cargo delivered. Ralix, in turn, shares his own history with the Captain, telling him the latest news and gossip of his homeworld and the planets he visited during his scholarly pursuits - as well as mentioning several potential business opportunities.

"Ubalto is mostly industrial underhive and constant gang wars," the nobleman says with an idle wave of his hand. "The upper classes and nobility of the world are limited to just a few of the very highest levels of the hive spires, with the directly levels below them teetering dangerously on an economic and social razor edge, while the majority of the levels below those are barely-restrained warzones. As such, there's plenty of coin to be made transporting medical supplies, foodstuffs, and recreational materials for the populace to consume. Easy sells, there. Or you could try to offer the aristocracy some fine amesacs, rare silks, or other luxury items, though I can tell you from personal experience that they're notoriously haughty, mistrusting, or downright picky," he says with a roll of his eyes. "Or..."

The scholar shifts a few pieces around on the Regicide board between them, setting them up for a new game.

"You could mayhaps speak to the Adeptus Arbites on the planet. They're under-staffed and underfunded, and while the Arbiters leading the departments themselves are rigid and unbreakable, the countless planetary law enforcement officers who personally drudge through the crime and corruption are less ardent and fanatical in their service and pursuit of justice. Especially with outdated weapons, vehicles, tools, so on and so forth. But, if they were to perhaps have a chance and procuring some fresh new shipments of armor and armaments... vox-arrays and other tools to increase their effectiveness... even a fresh supply of recaff and lho-sticks to boost morale among the departments... Well, one would wonder if perhaps the Arbites might be willing to invest a fair amount of their budget into purchasing these things, and giving the planet a healthy boost to its law enforcement. Will it make much of a difference? Probably not," he says with a melancholic smile and a small shrug. "But it would make a Rogue Trader quite a few Thrones richer, and perhaps it would help some citizens of Ubalto sleep a bit better at night while the gangers retreat further downspire and the aristocracy remains apathetic as always..." he muses.

The scholar looks down at the Regicide table, before glancing back up at the Rogue Trader. He smirks softly.
"Now where did you leave off with your last story...?"





"Frak me sideways with a chainsword, that hurt!" Ralix snarls as he writhes on the ground, spouting some colorful hiveworld slang somewhat uncharacteristic of him. His scholarly robes and other finery had been replaced by basic flak armor for combat training, which barely seemed to fit his slight frame. His entire body ached, courtesy several rounds of obstacle course exams, physical fitness exams, and of course, hand-to-hand combat tests. Several weeks of practice had gone by, and Ralix was now able to partake in some one-on-one sparring matches, under the watchful eye of the Commander or her most trusted retinue.

After a moment, though, the scholar sits up, gritting his teeth and letting out an almost primal snarl. "Come on then, frakker, that the best you got?" he growls, staggering awkwardly to his feet. He points at the void armsman who had just thrown him bodily to the ground, no doubt amusing him further. Commander Roth and her comrades were getting to enjoy quite the show now. Gone was Ralix's typical scholarly and erudite demeanor. Gone was his noble bearing and restraint, and foppish refinement. Instead, there was just a very angry hiver...

A very angry hiver who managed to last about five seconds and get at least two punches in during the second round, before being thrown down yet again and given a good kick in the stomach for good measure. Retching up the morning's breakfast, the scholar crawls to his knees, before shakily standing back up. He refused to give up, he refused to let himself stay weak and scrawny and useless against the Enemy in a real fight. And he refused to let the Commander, Lena, Jericus, and Qualia keep looking at him like some sort of potential liability or waste of their time. "C'mon......" he points at the armsman, swaying a bit before cracking a roguish grin as he tries to catch his breath. "That all ya got for me? I'm a lot harder to tire out and pin down than yer ugly sister, ya damn spacer. C'mon, show me what the frak ya got," he leers, slipping into the underhive dialect he'd picked up in his younger and more mischievous years, sounding not unlike Alaric or some other downspire thug.

He assumes a proper defensive stance, like he'd seen Commander Roth show her men earlier during combat drills. He mutters the Litany of Self-Protection, like he'd read in the Uplifting Primer. He watches the very angry armsman charge him headlong with a look of fury on his face, ready to duck the first blow and follow it up with-

Ralix wakes up a few hours later in the medical ward, sporting a black eye and several bruised ribs. Nothing broken, though, thankfully.

"Damn..." he winces, glancing over his own medical report once an orderly hands it over to him. He then scowls, and looks back at the orderly. "A week of bed rest? Ridiculous. Tell the Commander I'll be back for more training tomorrow, even if it kills me..."

Whether the Commander would actually allow him to come train while wounded, or if the Commander would perhaps pay him a visit during his recovery, was uncertain and likely depended on how impressed or disgusted she was with his feeble attempt at combat...



Ralix spends most of the trip either stuck in his research, visiting the Captain, or visiting the training grounds with or without the team. As far as personal interactions go, though...

Alaric is always invited to Ralix's room for company, regicide, or some lessons in various things. In fact, Ralix even tries to teach the young man a bit of High Gothic, both in case it ever comes in handy, or if he wants to sound a bit fancier and more impressive. Ralix also tells him a few "ghost stories" over late-night drinks, recounting some of the legends and tall tales he's heard over the years, especially involving the dark lower levels of ancient hives and the strange tales that echo up from them over the centuries... He does this not only to entertain the hiver, but to also test his mettle and prepare him for some of the strange things or horrors they might encounter in service of the Inquisition.

---

Nuric likewise is treated as a welcome guest, and Ralix looks forward to their discussions and discourse over topics ranging from scholarly to mundane. Should the Cleric try to prod and pry at Ralix's faith, he'll find that despite his esoteric learnings and questionable curiosity, the scholar is actually quite steadfast in his faith. If Nuric tries to pry into Ralix's past and his academic pursuits, Ralix tells him of the many worlds and scholas he visited, and the years spent reading about everything from great Astra Militarum victories, to obscure species of rodents and other vermin. Ralix, in turn, eventually finds himself rather curious about Nuric's status as an Untouchable. "Pray tell..." he finally asks, over a glass of amesac. "And I apologize if this is too personal, but... How much do you know about your.... condition?" he asks quietly, offering an apologetic smile in case he has pressed too far.

---

Jericus would get to enjoy watching Ralix flail about like an idiot on the training fields for several weeks, though he may notice that the scholar eventually starts to show some understanding of what he's learning. Still uncoordinated and frail, yes, but at least he's trying. He mostly leaves Jericus alone, though, knowing he'd rather focus on his own training or his popularity among the ship's crew. Ralix does, however, extend the offer of amesac and regicide if the Guardsman is interested... or a few hands of cards, if that's more his cup of recaff.

If Jericus does visit, he may notice that among the clutter covering Ralix's desk, there's an old, well-worn copy of the Uplifting Primer tucked away under various data-slates he has procured or borrowed during the trip, note-covered scrolls of parchment from many nights of research, and other various materials. Ralix makes no note or mention of it, either forgetting or pretending that it's not there...

---

Lena is left alone and given a wide berth by the scholar. Though, Ralix does watch her during her training a few times. Not the same sort of awed gawking or suspicious staring she gets from the crew and most individuals in general, but rather a quiet study. He tilts his head, seeming to be making mental notes. She also notices his own hands occasionally make subtle movements, as if he's mentally recording her movements and pondering how to execute them himself. It's not so much that he's studying her like some sort of science experiment, but more-so that he's trying to quietly learn from her examples as best he can, without having to pester her for direct lessons...

---

Qualia is also left alone, for the most part. However, after the whole "cheating" fiasco, she finds herself approached by Ralix later that day. He had been present, watching the exercise and observing the teams' tactics and movements, since he himself had been too injured a few days prior to participate. "Qualia?" he calls out to her. Still walking with a faint limp, he smiles softly at the Psyker as he approaches her after tracking her down. "Sorry if I've caught you at a bad time. I just wanted to say, that was impressive earlier," he says with a small nod, voice low rather than boisterous or haughty like she might expect. He offers a meek little smile, before frowning sadly. "Those accusations of cheating were foolish and unfounded," he says, shaking his head. "Though they were likely just angry over losing, and not used to being outsmarted."

He glances up at a nearby air duct, eyeing the vent warily. "It seems so obvious, but only those raised in the depths of a voidship or a hive ever seem to remember to look up," he grumbles. "All these walls and corridors, and nobody seems to realize there's an endless maze of ducts, vents, conduits, relays, service tunnels, maintenance accessways, so on and so forth..." he murmurs, before shaking his head. "But I digress..."

The scholar puts on another meek smile. "At any rate, I look forward to the next exercise, and seeing how you outsmart the other team. And seeing what excuses they come up with for losing again," he grins playfully.

Ralix turns to take his leave, before pausing. He glances back at Qualia uncertainly, seeming to mentally wrestle with something, as if he's trying to find the right words or decide if it's the right time or place to bring it up. "Er... um... perhaps... no, nevermind..." he mutters, mostly to himself. Unless Qualia opts to confront him or pry further herself, the scholar will simply bid her good evening for the time being...



When they eventually join the Captain on the deck, Ralix nods respectfully to the various crew members. When the Captain asks their preference, Ralix ponders for a moment, before frowning. "I think we may be prudent to visit the void station first. There may be new information or events that have come to light during our trip, and it may be best to do a little information gathering before we head planetside, in case there are complications we should already be made aware of and prepare for."

He glances over at Alaric and his oddly loud proclamations, before putting two and two together and deciding not to comment or get involved with whatever scheme his comrade has involving the pretty redhead who keeps eyeing him. It should prove amusing, at least, and he could use a laugh given what sort of horror may be awaiting them planetside...

[Sarak]

Nuric, inclined to agree with the lithe young huntress beside him, frowned at Alaric; they'd already been three months in the Warp, and their mission shouldn't be delayed. His gaze softened somewhat as he noticed the looks from the young woman across the bridge, understanding coming to him. That would explain the smug grin. Still, he'd been about to point out their duty to the young ex-ganger until Alaric clarified his intentions for their visit to the station. "I suppose a brief forray to the station could prove useful," he said, sending a look to the young man that he hoped would convey a reminder that their duty lay planetside and not at the pilot's station.

[Erulasto]

THE WAYFARER – APORIA SYSTEM

3.344.982.M41

With the decision having been made, Captain Hathaway was clear that it would still take a little while to enter into orbit of Aporia and to dock at the void-station. The Acolytes had some time to enjoy themselves; a bit more sleep, or gathering up their gear.

It likely wasn’t going to be easy to return to the Wayfarer too often once they made planet-fall and began their investigations in depth.

The Captain instructed them that if they needed anything further from their armoury, or quartermasters, then they should speak to Sergeant Gorram or Commander Roth.

He, himself, retired to his quarters to send out a few early transmissions to let his contacts know they had arrived in system and would be docked within a few hours.


When Alaric approached the youthful ensign, his mere presence seemed to cause her cheeks to flush bright pink. She stared at him for a few moments without blinking before catching herself and clearing her throat awkwardly.
”Oh…um…I’m plotting in the initial approach vector to the void-station so the cogitators can calculate the final maneuvers necessary to dock us with the station.” Her fingers danced across the cogitator controls in front of her, and a small holo-display showed a representation of the void-station, the Wayfarer and a bright red, curving line that she was adjusting my small margins with each key-stroke.
”Are…are you excited to go down to the planet and get to work?” She sounded a bit awed by, what would likely be, fanciful imaginings of the adventure and excitement of working for the Ordo.



Indeed Commander Roth had shown up at the medical bay to pay him a visit at some point, and sign off on his discharge papers that allowed him to freely leave the medicae facility. Several large orderlies had firm orders to keep him there until the Medicae themselves and the Commander deemed him recovered enough to be released.
It may have been simple injuries, but no one was crazy enough to allow a servant of the Inquisition to remained injured for long on their watch – even if the injuries were sustained from their own stubbornness.

After signing the discharge log, Commander Roth approached Ralix with her usual stern expression missing. Instead, Ralix found the Commander’s lips tugging in a small smirk.
”You are certainly persistent, Master Ralix. Are you still planning on keeping up with this ambition of yours?”





APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION – APORIA SYSTEM
3.344.982.M41

It took several more hours for the Wayfarer to make its way towards the void-station by way of its sub-light engines, and to drift slowly into the appropriate berth. Once the merchant-trader ship was successfully docked with the station, Captain Hathaway – along with a security detail led by Sergeant Gorram – met the Acolytes in the air-lock that led to the docking umbilical.

”If you’re ready, my friends, let us depart. Oh, and pardon the smell…” He warns almost as an afterthought. It doesn’t take long to determine just what exactly Captain Hathaway was speaking of.

Almost immediately after they made their way across the umbilical and through the opposing airlock, the stench hit them immediately. It was nearly overpowering: a stinging salt-water tang, and a deep, pungent odor like that of old fish. It wasn’t hard to tell where it came from, either.

The docking berth led onto a ring-like causeway that circled a massive, domed chamber near the roof. The air was chilled from massive refrigeration units that seemed to spew constant streams of icy mist from their vented tops. The entire area below the causeway was thick with servitors bustling about hauling massive containers in which tens of thousands of pounds of strange crustacean sea-creatures were hauled around to storage or to be loaded into waiting freighters for shipment off-world. It was this bulk sea-life that was smelling so potently. Not rotten, no…but certainly not pleasant.

Once within, the Acolytes were overwhelmed with the hustle and bustle. Aside from servitors, men and women in various styles of dress made their way around the causeway with cloths bound over their noses and faces. Captain Hathaway explained that Administratum adepts from the surface often used perfumed rags to help mask the scent. He took a deep breath and offered a wide grin. Apparently the good Captain had a strong stomach.

When they reached the other side of the dome, they approached a lift that led up to the actual administration-levels of the void-station, perched as it was over the six massive trade-domes that encircled the space elevator that led down to the planet’s surface.

When they departed the lift, they were immediately met with a much more clean and pleasant smelling environment. It was comfortable, with a lounge and several restaurants below several tiers of offices and the majority of the walls on this level of the station were armoured glass allowing a rather beautiful vista of Aporia below.

They hadn’t made it too far in before a rich baritone voice called out to them.

”Jonah Hathaway! As I live and breathe!” A tall man called; he was handsome in a way that screamed scoundrel with long, matte black hair tied loosely back and bright glacial blue eyes. His chin was covered in stubble, as if he hadn’t shaven recently, and he wore a simple but expensive tunic of white silks under an armoured black overcoat. A finely crafted pair of bolt pistols hung at his waist – they were obviously well-crafted, even at an initial, cursory glance.

Next to him was an attractive woman with loose and wavy red locks of hair and bright green eyes peering at the Acolytes inquisitively. She wore a simple grey dress; like something out of a convent or scholam.

Hathaway smiled a tight-lipped smile at the newcomer and offered his hand out to shake as the duo approached.

”Kasran. So…good to see you. I didn’t know you were in the business of hauling bulk goods these days. I didn’t see the Direwolf in berth?”

The man referred to as Kasran just smirked somewhat and shook his head.

”No…not exactly, Jonah. I had other business here on Aporia, so I sent my ship off to finish our latest run. They should be back within a few hours. My darling Kaetlyn here and I were just about to enjoy a meal while we waited. Would you and your…friends…care to join us?” The man called Kasran eyed the Acolytes with that telling smirk – an expression mirrored by the young woman, though her eyes hardened when they fell upon Nuric with a scowl.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

As she moved down the corridor, Qualia heard Ralix call her name. She turned to see him limping, still trying to walk off his latest training session. He was persistent, she'd give him that, but at some point persistence turned to stupidity, and sometimes discretion was the better part of valour.

"There are no rules when it comes to life and death, there is only winning. Even the largest of men doesn't stand a chance against an Ork, but shoot him in the back or drop a crate on him and suddenly you walk away instead of him. They may be sore about my escapades under the floor plates, but it's better they learn that lesson from me and someone who actually wants to kill them."

She glanced up at the duct as he noted it

"More than you can imagine. I'd wager there are entire decks on this ship no-one knows about. Given time to explore, I could probably move half way across the ship without anyone eyeing me. The problem comes when you become as lost as the places you explore, and a ship holds many of those. It's all experience, something you are suitably gaining in training. Next time, though, don't taunt the armsmen, you're trying to learn, not make it personal. Control in all things."

As Ralix stutters, Qualia interjects, there was rarely time for half formed words

"Is there something else, Mr Zamir?"

Qualia's head cocked slightly as she wondered what the usually forthright Ralix was struggling with

The stench came charging through the airlock seemingly faster than the atmosphere, assaulting Qualia's senses and causing her to recoil. Even the foulest of storage tanks paled into comparison with whatever this was. If the Captain was able to stomach it, he must be a frequent visitor here.

She walked with the rest of the group, more secure than walking alone. It was a void station, yes, but suspicion was still a thing, and she'd found station born to be less tolerant than those more used to Astropaths and Navigators.

Even entering the lift was blessed relief, but the admin levels were positively divine in comparison, a hint of fresh air in amongst the recycled gasses. The Captain once more strode through as if he knew every single person here, as a merchant captain he probably did, although the loud call from another captain did unease her slightly to begin.

Qualia watched as the new woman showed displeasure towards Nuric. Her plain clothing didn't identify her as a Psyker, so what could she have against a cleric of the Emperor's flock?

[Bennosuke]

”Oh…um…I’m plotting in the initial approach vector to the void-station so the cogitators can calculate the final maneuvers necessary to dock us with the station.

Alaric does his best to look both interested, and not at all befuddled by the Ensign’s words. He gives a knowing “hmmm”, just for good measures.


”Are…are you excited to go down to the planet and get to work?” She sounded a bit awed by, what would likely be, fanciful imaginings of the adventure and excitement of working for the Ordo.

Puffing out his chest just a little, hands placed confidently on his hips, Alaric responds, “Oh of course. We have been preparing for months for this mission. It always is such an honor to do The Emperor’s bidding.” He leans an arm agains the machine that Leah is working on, allowing him to get just a little closer, “It’s just amazing to think of all the challenging situations we’ve been through in our service. So many stories, so much excitement.” He looks into her eyes, hoping that he is stoking her interest.

(OOC: Let me know if you want me to roll anything.


Alaric had already long given up on his High Gothic lessons with Ralix and the two were already far into the bottle of Amsec that Alaric had boosted from the kitchen. Slightly cross eyed, and entertained by something far off, Alaric says, “I gots a question for you Ralix.” The words were just barely slurring, the boys cheeks were ruby red. “No Grox **** okay? I’ve been seeing this girl on the ship, ya know. I mean, not seeing like seeing, but like I think I’ve caught her looking, if you know what I mean. And well, I think she’s caught me looking too.” Alaric’s already red face turns nearly purple at this, and he rushes to continue, “Anyways, lets just say there weren’t many girls in my all boy’s orphanage, and after that I pretty much had what I wanted. I’ve never had to, well, talk to some girl. Thoughts?”

Passing down the dock way, Alaric was forced to hold his nose. He had never seen anything as “fresh” as a sea creature, and he certainly had never smelled one. His head bent over the walkway to look down on the various sea animals in their containers, and with pinched nose would continuely point and ask with surprise, “What the frak is that!”

Once on the other side and into the cool air, Alaric releases his nose and with a sigh of relief exclaims, “Oh thank the throne!”

Later, Alaric spied the roguish Kasran and his and his partner Katelyn and thought to himself; well that looks like a man worth scamming. Putting on his best grin, Alaric waited for the best moment to introduce himself and thrusting a hand forward to shake says, “Captain Kasran, if I may, my name is Alaric Varn. It is certainly to a pleasure to meet you and your lovely partner.” He flashes a similar grin to Katelyn. “Forgive me for making any presumptions, but if my highly trained eye is working, you look like a man who knows his fine liquors. Am I right?”

Charm at 32 [roll0]

[CrimsonKnight]

The pungent odor of the seafood seemed to have a rather different effect on Lena than the rest of the party. That smell... I swear if I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend to be back on the shores of the Jade Sea. Gah, I wasn't expecting to be feeling homesick on a void station of all bloody places. Easy girl, no doubt you'll have plenty of similar sensations when we reach the planet below. She schooled the brief wistfulness on her face back into her usual blank neutrality and followed after the others.

Her first impression of the Captain's apparent friends was not a favorable one. And they wanted to drag them all off to another no-doubt fancy meal of some sorts. Lena was getting sick of such occasions, and decided just this time that she'd find something more interesting to do. She murmured to her companions in a voice low enough not to carry over (hopefully) to where Kasran and Katelyn were eyeing them.

"If you want to take them up on their offering, go ahead, but I think I will pass on this. I would much prefer to wander on my own for a bit if you don't mind. Don't worry, I will be discrete, and I have my micro-bead if you need to get ahold of me. And it is a good opportunity for some information gathering if I listen as I go to what people are thinking of the disappearances below as well as any other local events currently being gossiped about."

[ArendK]

The Wayfarer

Jericus kept busy during his time aboard the Wayfarer. The training exercises were fun; Qualia showed uncanny tact, and he personally figured that since her group won that particular exercise even through abstract and dirty tactics, they still won. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter how you get that victory, only that it is obtained. A potent lesson overall.

Ralix worked on his training, and Jericus wasn't one to fault him for his efforts. He wasn't about to tell the young Adept that he shouldn't train; he just shouldn't feel he was a liability because he wasn't Jericus or Lena. Each Acolyte was brought on for their skills and drive, not what they were lacking. Nonetheless, even Jericus couldn't suppress a chuckle after watching him get thrashed during the sparring matches.

"Anger isn't going to help you if you use it like that Ralix." Jericus said as he knelt down, a bemused look on his face. "You become reckless, letting brute force decide the fight. Sometimes you'll win, sometimes you won't. Depends on the other guys skill, size, and strength. Why let a fight be decided by things you can't control? Anger used like that is just a weapon for your opponent."

"You're a smart guy; use your head. A head-on fight isn't one your strong suits. Even I'm not the strongest or the toughest around here. But the environment, terrain, clothing, visibility, etc, all can be weapons. We just have to use them. The lights in this bay are bright? Put your back to them, or put them to your dominant side and behind you; the light will conceal your movements easier against your enemy. That big coat of yours? Use the belt to trap the hands in some crazy knot, or get it around their neck. You're trying to fight like Lena, Alaric, or me. Stop that. Fight to your strengths. Think like Qualia; it's not that she's the best brawler or best marksman; she uses her head more than her fists."

Jericus enjoyed his time among the shipmen. They weren't so different than Guardsmen really; just wired a little differently and less combat attuned. He'd happily share his tales over rotgut, and listen to theirs. Occasionally the rest of his fellow Acolytes would come up as a point of conversation, which vexed the Guardsmen. How the frak did he explain their differences and traveling together to people likely who didn't WANT to know that they were a part of one of the most terrifying organizations in the Imperium? In the end, he usually dismissively cast aside their association, claiming they were apart of the Adminstratum gathering and completing records for tithing purposes. Sometimes planetary leaders get a bit upset about having the tax man show up on their doorstep asking for more tithes, so Jericus and the more martial minded group were there as the tax-mans protection detail. The various crushes on Lena didn't surprise him; she was an attractive woman, and her isolationist mentality only added to her mystique. Jericus MIGHT have added a little fuel to the fire to encourage a few of the braver shipmen to approach the deadly assassin. Once we was fully sober again, he wondered if he should have maybe requested a protection detail for the first few guys willing to try; not for Lena, but from her if she particularly disliked them.

Other opinions from the armsmen he found amusing, but paid attention to those likely few saying negative of his teammates. They were free to dislike who they wanted, but plotting any harm or ill-will towards any of them; sure, Alaric was sly and sneaky, Nuric creepy, Lena terrifying, Qualia unsettling sometimes, and Ralix was a nerd.

Jericus had made a point to swing by Sergeant Gorram to see if he could borrow a few extra bits of weaponry and some ammo. While a las-gun was always good to have, there were times when having the right weapon would make all the difference. While he was happy to approach Commander Roth about it, he preferred keeping it enlisted to enlisted (as much as he thought of himself as enlisted nowadays).

Looking to pick up a shotgun, an autogun, enough ammo for 4 full magazines, and a few extra charge packs.

Jericus made a point to occasionally stop and talk to Commander Roth throughout the trip at least once a day; generally just exchanging pleasantries over the training sessions. Every couple of days he'd invite her for a light drink and discussion (not that he really expected her to accept, the offer was there nonetheless) or cards with Ralix.

Jericus somewhat understood the frustrations Lena felt. The wait could drive you crazy if you let it. He sought her out one day a few weeks in to converse and check on her. She was so tense it was like dealing with a caged predator, and the nature of what Jericus understood of her skillset and training inured her to her preference of isolation, as that was how most with her skillset worked. He offered to be a sympathetic ear for her (or at least an ear; he'd hate to see how the first person who offered an irritable Lena unwanted sympathies ended up). Despite her home planet and nature, even she couldn't always be a killing machine, and Jericus figured it was likely someone who understood that mentality would be able to help.

PLACEHOLDER!!!!!!!!!!! I can't get to a book right now, so I have no idea what I can spend XP on; I'll flesh this part out when I have an idea. For now, it's just going to be a placeholder.

Arrival at Aporia

Jericus looked over the rest of his fellow Acolytes with a bit of a queried eye. The fact that Lena seemed slightly happier instead of caged animal-anxious would have filled him with a bit of concern had he not heard the whispers (i.e. slightly inebriated exclamations) of some of the crew.

Jericus took a proverbial backseat to the security detail; he wasn't one to take over their jobs for them. He'd loaded his ruck with his arms and gear acquired from Sergeant Gorram and slung it over his shoulder. After meeting the Captains friends, he was less inclined to another fancy dinner, but did secretly agree with Alaric; more information and a bit of time to get acclimated would be valuable. But another dinner party was not on his to-do list.

"I'll pass on dinner, we'll meet back at the Lander in 2 hours then? A bit of fresh-air would do me some good, so I'll go with Lena."

Jericus eyed Kasran and Katelyn carefully; her reaction to Nuric screamed Psyker or wildly emotional; experience and caution said assume Psyker. Might just be the ships Navigator though if Kasran has a ship. Something didn't smell right, and Jericus was pretty sure it wasn't the fish. But he couldn't put his finger on it. As he set his ruck in the Lander, he keyed the micro-bead in his ear to the rest of the team as he whispered.

"Ralix, fancy events are your skillset; keep an eye open. Something strikes me as off; stay with the security detail and Captain Hathaway as much as possible. Qualia, if something goes wrong, get everyone back to the Lander and contact us; we'll be back as fast as possible. Guns are in my ruck if needed."

Jericus stepped back to drop his ruck in the Lander; he checked to make sure his pistol and ammo were all where they should be on his person and set off after Lena.

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION - APORIA SYSTEM
3.344.982.M41



Leah blushed at Alaric's seeming interest in her and her work, and cast her eyes down for a shy moment. When she glances back up to meet his gaze, her lips part in surprise at his sudden closeness.

"That sound...so exciting! Don't get me wrong, I love working for the Captain....but....to face down the enemies of Mankind...." She whistles appreciatively and offers the young Scum a shy smile.





Captain Kasran Dire turned his attention from his lovely companion and Captain Hathaway and let his glacial gaze fall on Alaric with some amusement twinkling within.

"Aye lad, if I were to be so bold I would say that yes, yes I am. As good old Jonah here can attest, I enjoy collecting exotic liquors from across my travels. I've some very unique bottles in my private stash." He leans in conspiratorily. "The Wild-Men of Faradikan near the Halo Stars make a wine that is truly a wonder. They grow their grapes in the corpses of the feral Greenskins that inhabit the wastelands to their South." He chuckles for a moment, and winks at the youth. "It sounds terrible, I know. But trust me....it has a kick to it like a Kroot."

Kaetlyn offers a charming smile to Alaric as Kasran engages in some appreciative banter, and she rests a hand gently on Kasran's shoulder.

"He's a handsome devil, Captain. Can we please keep this one?" Her accent is heavy, and foreign in a way that sends chills up Qualia's spine. To her words, however, Kasran just laughs loudly.

"My dear, I don't suppose Jonah here would appreciate us poaching his crew." Captain Hathaway just smiles curtly, but does not bother to correct Kasran on the nature of Alaric's status on his ship. "But the lad would be a welcome addition to dinner. The offer is, of course, open to all of you."

Captain Hathaway ended up passing on the meal himself, citing a need to speak to his contacts as soon as possible but promising - somewhat untruthfully - that he'd seek Kasran out to share a drink if he had the time after. Of course, Captain Hathaway at this point was prepared to go off on his own business and would be leaving the Acolytes to their own devices.

There were instructions left with their Lander pilot to ferry them down to the Colonial capitol as they needed, or they could take the Space Elevator if they were curious about the ancient peice of technology. It was unlikely that Captain Hathaway would be heading to the surface within the next few days - most business was accomplished on the void-station, after all.

With Lena, and Jericus seeking to head off on their own to explore the void-station, and Alaric seeming to have an active interest in the Rogue Trader and his female companion, it left Qualia, Ralix and Brother Nuric to determine if they were going to be joining for the meal or heading off on their own.

With Jericus' suggestion that they should meet back up within a two hour window on their mind, there would be plenty of opportunity to pick up a bit of news from the spacers, traders and station workers that were present.





The void-station consisted of several large domed transport hubs much like the one they entered through. Above it all were the offices and administration level, which included several restaurants and lounges to accomodate visiting traders and the staff that worked there.

Below all of it was a small merchant level where a few shops and even a couple bars rested to cater to the crews of visiting vessels while their Captains did business on the upper levels.

Of course, the last level was the entrace to the massive space-elevator that made the run up and down to the surface of Aporia every hour - the trip itself taking close to thirty minutes.

The keen-eyed Moritat caught the sight of several heavily armed and armoured men sitting at an old looking table inside the closest bar. Each of their armour's bore a stylized black wolfs-head upon the carapace plates covering their chests.

Jericus heard a few portly looking men in the grease and unguent stained coveralls of void-ship engine workers speaking about the trouble they were in; apparently their Chartist-trade vessel was supposed to meet to pick up a delivery from Velar's Hope but as the city-ship never arrived, they were without a cargo and, thus, were going to be taking a profit loss.







Sergeant Gorram spent much of his time in the Wayfarer's security control center near the center of the ship, where his forces could quickly access any of the primary regions of the void-ship.

When Jericus had requested extra armament, Gorram was happy to oblige. He seemed to have a strong, professional respect for the Guardsman - out of all the Acolytes.



Done, done and done. Shotgun, autogun, 4 magazines and 2 charge packs. It wont always be the case, but in this instance you can have them for free. They've got the basics available to the security details of the Wayfarer and don't mind parting with some. But, obviously, don't take advantage of their generosity.

[Bennosuke]

"Aye lad, if I were to be so bold I would say that yes, yes I am. As good old Jonah here can attest, I enjoy collecting exotic liquors from across my travels. I've some very unique bottles in my private stash." He leans in conspiratorily. "The Wild-Men of Faradikan near the Halo Stars make a wine that is truly a wonder. They grow their grapes in the corpses of the feral Greenskins that inhabit the wastelands to their South." He chuckles for a moment, and winks at the youth. "It sounds terrible, I know. But trust me....it has a kick to it like a Kroot."

Alaric's grin spreads. He swipes his nose with his thumb, and in a manner that says, 'I accept your challenge' responds, "Well it sounds like I will have to try it some time I image it would be quiet good for the digestion."


"My dear, I don't suppose Jonah here would appreciate us poaching his crew." Captain Hathaway just smiles curtly, but does not bother to correct Kasran on the nature of Alaric's status on his ship. "But the lad would be a welcome addition to dinner. The offer is, of course, open to all of you."

Alaric gives Captain Hathway a stage wink as he crosses his arms over his chest and says playfully, "Unfortunately for you Captinain Kasran, I don't think you could afford my services. But I will do you the service of joining you for dinner; just don't judge my flying skills or my shooting based on my table manners."

"Sure it's exciting" Alaric says wistfully, feigning a hint of hidden pain, "but such stresses can weigh on a man. Oh, the horror's I've seen would turn most men's blood to ice." He raises a hand to his temple as if fighting off an oncoming headache. Then he looks up to lock eyes with Leah and says, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to burden you with my troubles."

[Sarak]

Nuric likewise is treated as a welcome guest, and Ralix looks forward to their discussions and discourse over topics ranging from scholarly to mundane. Should the Cleric try to prod and pry at Ralix's faith, he'll find that despite his esoteric learnings and questionable curiosity, the scholar is actually quite steadfast in his faith. If Nuric tries to pry into Ralix's past and his academic pursuits, Ralix tells him of the many worlds and scholas he visited, and the years spent reading about everything from great Astra Militarum victories, to obscure species of rodents and other vermin. Ralix, in turn, eventually finds himself rather curious about Nuric's status as an Untouchable. "Pray tell..." he finally asks, over a glass of amesac. "And I apologize if this is too personal, but... How much do you know about your.... condition?" he asks quietly, offering an apologetic smile in case he has pressed too far.

Nuric's eyes dropped down to his own refilled glass, swirling it slowly. Looking discomfited, his eyes rose up again to meet the scholar's gaze. "The Inquisitor spoke at some length of the issue, and it was explained again in a lesser capacity before the, ah, procedure for the Limiter," he said, unconciously reaching up and brushing at his neck, "but I must admit the finer details had trouble sticking." His eyes took on a distant look, thinking of days past. "It certainly gives clues to... difficulties I had had in the past, social interactions and the like. A particularly troublesome hurdle, for a man of my vocation," he finished ruefully.

Brother Nuric recovered somewhat from the scathing look that the woman Kaetlyn had thrown him; he'd grown used to the subdued state of his Blank nature afforded him by the Limiter and the attempts by his colleagues to get past the same. Reactions such as this were less frequent these days, and he wondered if the woman was touched by the Warp as a psyker. Perhaps it was his robes and iconography; as close to heresy as it might be, there were those in the Imperium of Mankind who did not react favourably to the Ministorum.

He listened patiently to the banter between the two Captains, Alaric smoothly keeping the trader's attention and focus; he barely suppressed a wry grin. This charm came in handy during their investigations, though it was often the very thing that landed the young man in trouble as well! At the prospect of another well-laid feast, his interest grew. The foul stench from earlier had been worse than a heap of gannic stalks rotting in the sun, but it had faded enough for his appetite to return. At Jericus's whispered communication, however, he rethought the invitation. Dire's companion wasn't attempting to conceal her distaste at his presence, and over the course of a dinner it could even lead to outright animosity. He'd developed quite a liking for trying new and interesting cuisine, but he didn't want to derail any headway that the others might make over dinner conversation by unsettling the woman further. His eager appetite could wait, as certainly their investigation came first.

"Alas, I'm afraid my own duties might keep me too preoccupied to fully enjoy such a meal and company," he spoke, "though I will speak a prayer for the occasion in absentia. Perhaps next time." He flashed what he hoped would be an apologetic smile to the two. Perhaps he'd be able to pick up on something useful in the meantime.

[Lycan 01]

Ralix - Interludes



Indeed Commander Roth had shown up at the medical bay to pay him a visit at some point, and sign off on his discharge papers that allowed him to freely leave the medicae facility. Several large orderlies had firm orders to keep him there until the Medicae themselves and the Commander deemed him recovered enough to be released.
It may have been simple injuries, but no one was crazy enough to allow a servant of the Inquisition to remained injured for long on their watch – even if the injuries were sustained from their own stubbornness.

After signing the discharge log, Commander Roth approached Ralix with her usual stern expression missing. Instead, Ralix found the Commander’s lips tugging in a small smirk.
”You are certainly persistent, Master Ralix. Are you still planning on keeping up with this ambition of yours?”

Ralix looks up at her with a dour little frown. After a moment though, it softens into a melancholic little smile. "Why thank you, Commander. But yes, I'm afraid so. As much as it pains me... quite literally... I must keep up my feeble attempts at self-improvement. This is not the path I wanted to take, but if it is the course the Emperor has asked me to be upon, then I must give it my all. The Enemies of the Inquisition and Humanity are numerous, and come in all forms. I must be prepared to defend myself and my comrades at a moment's notice against all manner of heretic and xenos - and let's face it, I'm rather lacking in the physical fitness and the skills required for such things," he says, still wearing the sad little smile as he shakes his head.

"No," he idly waves a hand, "I must keep at it. I must improve myself, so that if I should find myself or my comrades in danger, I shall not be found lacking. Our mission and the responsibilities upon me are too important to let a few bruises or lost teeth dissuade me. Pain is temporary, but failing in my duty to the Emperor would be eternal..." he says with a grimace, averting his gaze.

After a moment, he looks up and cracks a nervous, sheepish grin. "By the way, would you kindly inform your armsman that my insults were not sincere, please? I was trying to provoke him, yes, but I wasn't genuine in my use of insults or slurs against him or the rest of your men. I don't care if they find me weak or annoying, but I don't want them thinking I honestly hold such prejudices against them. I suppose I let my frustrations and desperation to improve get the better of me..." he sighs.




Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

As she moved down the corridor, Qualia heard Ralix call her name. She turned to see him limping, still trying to walk off his latest training session. He was persistent, she'd give him that, but at some point persistence turned to stupidity, and sometimes discretion was the better part of valour.

"There are no rules when it comes to life and death, there is only winning. Even the largest of men doesn't stand a chance against an Ork, but shoot him in the back or drop a crate on him and suddenly you walk away instead of him. They may be sore about my escapades under the floor plates, but it's better they learn that lesson from me and someone who actually wants to kill them."

She glanced up at the duct as he noted it

"More than you can imagine. I'd wager there are entire decks on this ship no-one knows about. Given time to explore, I could probably move half way across the ship without anyone eyeing me. The problem comes when you become as lost as the places you explore, and a ship holds many of those. It's all experience, something you are suitably gaining in training. Next time, though, don't taunt the armsmen, you're trying to learn, not make it personal. Control in all things."

As Ralix stutters, Qualia interjects, there was rarely time for half formed words

"Is there something else, Mr Zamir?"

Qualia's head cocked slightly as she wondered what the usually forthright Ralix was struggling with

Ralix nods along thoughtfully, following her gaze back up to the duct, nodding. "Oh, I can indeed imagine. In my younger years, me and some of my peers learned to navigate the ventilation ducts and access tunnels of our hive spire and traversed the sprawling towers unseen, and with relative ease. We were too young to realize how stupid and dangerous it was, of course," he says with a roll of his eyes.

He then smiles sheepishly at her comment on his improvements, but also his error. "Agreed, yes. I was intending to provoke him, but perhaps I went a step too far, and let my frustration get the better of me. I have already apologized to Commander Roth for that..." he adds quietly, lowering his voice and his gaze.

When she prods him about what's on his mind, he fidgets a bit, before sighing. "I suppose I'll be blunt and to the point - I just wanted you to know that I appreciate having you as a member of the team, and I hold great respect for you. The only things I desire to learn from you are better to serve the Emperor," he quietly tells her. He doesn't know how else to tell her that he's not intending to study her like some sort of esoteric tome and use her to learn all sorts of unspeakable occultic sorcery, which is probably what she or the rest of the team suspects.

He gives a small frown, and glances sadly at the Psyker. "I've seen the way most of the team looks at me, you know. Varying degrees of wariness, apprehension, or even disdain. Physical weakness and admit-able arrogance are a part of it, yes, but I'm no fool. I know I have a bit of a reputation for asking too many questions, and I'm sure its no secret how I came to serve the Inquisitions..." he scowls, averting his gaze. "I can't really blame them, or you, for keeping me at arms length. It's understandable, and I know there's not much I can really say or do right now to improve on that," he shrugs, giving a small sigh. "But yes, for what it's worth, I think highly of you, and the rest of the crew. And I'll do my best to support you all, regardless of the attitudes towards me."

After a moment, he cracks a nervous smile. "Er, sorry for rambling. I do tend to talk a bit too much, especially when nervous..."


[QUOTE=Bennosuke;23150898]
Alaric had already long given up on his High Gothic lessons with Ralix and the two were already far into the bottle of Amsec that Alaric had boosted from the kitchen. Slightly cross eyed, and entertained by something far off, Alaric says, “I gots a question for you Ralix.” The words were just barely slurring, the boys cheeks were ruby red. “No Grox **** okay? I’ve been seeing this girl on the ship, ya know. I mean, not seeing like seeing, but like I think I’ve caught her looking, if you know what I mean. And well, I think she’s caught me looking too.” Alaric’s already red face turns nearly purple at this, and he rushes to continue, “Anyways, lets just say there weren’t many girls in my all boy’s orphanage, and after that I pretty much had what I wanted. I’ve never had to, well, talk to some girl. Thoughts?”
Ralix, having also had a few too many shots of amesac, grins crookedly. "Ooooooh, so the ganger wants to be a charmer, eh?" he leers playfully. "Well you've come to the right teacher!" he proclaims boisterously, spreading his arms and nearly falling out of his chair. "You see, dear Alaric, the secret is communication!" More arm flailing. "You need to talk to her! Now, you can either talk to her honestly, and express you feelings and desires, and smother her with compliments about her beauty and her eyes - oh especially her eyes. Women love it when you talk about their eyes, for some reason," he says with an idle wave of his hand. "Probably something to do with looking into the eyes being a sign of honesty, and also romantic interest. But I digress..."

He holds up a finger. "The other communication key is outright lying!" he grins crookedly. "Brag and boast about how much of an interstellar hero you are, and how you've done all manner of brave and masculine exploits across all manner of worlds! She may not know you're part of the Inquistion, but obviously you're some sort of mysterious stranger from distant star-shores, and you've clearly seen some sorts of adventure! Braaaaag abouuuuut iiiiiiiit~" he sing-songs, rocking back and forth in his seat as he takes a swig directly from the bottle. "There's no harm in fluffing the details a smidge or leaving out the parts where other people helped you do something extraordinary..."

He suddenly gets a serious look on his face. "Actually, don't do that."

A big grin appears on his face. "Do both! Look into her eyes and tell them how beautiful she is, as you're also bragging about being a big damn hero back on your homeworld... Oooo, maybe even tell her I - a Hive noble of great reputation and wealth - picked you to be one of my personal bodyguards after you saved my life from a dangerous mutant or something," he says with an idle handwave. "Tell her I was screaming like a child and you dragged me to safety or something, I don't care. My pride is meaningless in the name of romance!" he proclaims, totally drunk off his ass.



[QUOTE=ArendK;23153206]Ralix worked on his training, and Jericus wasn't one to fault him for his efforts. He wasn't about to tell the young Adept that he shouldn't train; he just shouldn't feel he was a liability because he wasn't Jericus or Lena. Each Acolyte was brought on for their skills and drive, not what they were lacking. Nonetheless, even Jericus couldn't suppress a chuckle after watching him get thrashed during the sparring matches.

"Anger isn't going to help you if you use it like that Ralix." Jericus said as he knelt down, a bemused look on his face. "You become reckless, letting brute force decide the fight. Sometimes you'll win, sometimes you won't. Depends on the other guys skill, size, and strength. Why let a fight be decided by things you can't control? Anger used like that is just a weapon for your opponent."

"You're a smart guy; use your head. A head-on fight isn't one your strong suits. Even I'm not the strongest or the toughest around here. But the environment, terrain, clothing, visibility, etc, all can be weapons. We just have to use them. The lights in this bay are bright? Put your back to them, or put them to your dominant side and behind you; the light will conceal your movements easier against your enemy. That big coat of yours? Use the belt to trap the hands in some crazy knot, or get it around their neck. You're trying to fight like Lena, Alaric, or me. Stop that. Fight to your strengths. Think like Qualia; it's not that she's the best brawler or best marksman; she uses her head more than her fists."[quote]

Ralix, seated at his desk and still sporting a few bruises, turns to face the Guardsman with a small wince. He gives Jericus a flat stare for a moment, before sighing and slumping his shoulders a bit. "Yes, you are correct. I was mostly trying to provoke them, but alas, I did let my own personal frustrations get the better of me. I have already spoken to Commander Roth about that, but... I do appreciate your feedback."

He listens and nods along, a look of genuine interest on his face as Jericus makes his observations and suggestions. "Yes... think more tactically, yes..." he muses, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Jericus may notice that his knuckles are also looking scuffed and scabby, no doubt from trying to hone his hand-to-hand skills with the fitness yard's various weighted bags and other combat training equipment. "Alas, I'm also limited in my weapons training. I learned to use a revolver at a young age; it's the traditional weapon of Ubaltan honor duels, aside from the chainsword... which I was much too uncoordinated for," he grins sheepishly. "But no, beyond that, my knowledge of weaponry is limited. Perhaps I should pester you later for some lessons with a wider variety of firearms, if you have the patience for me..." he muses. "I know the basics of lasgun maintenance and combat drills... or at least I've read up on them extensively. No hands-on experience, though..." he frowns.





Ralix - Aporia


APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION - APORIA SYSTEM
3.344.982.M41
Captain Kasran Dire turned his attention from his lovely companion and Captain Hathaway and let his glacial gaze fall on Alaric with some amusement twinkling within.

"Aye lad, if I were to be so bold I would say that yes, yes I am. As good old Jonah here can attest, I enjoy collecting exotic liquors from across my travels. I've some very unique bottles in my private stash." He leans in conspiratorily. "The Wild-Men of Faradikan near the Halo Stars make a wine that is truly a wonder. They grow their grapes in the corpses of the feral Greenskins that inhabit the wastelands to their South." He chuckles for a moment, and winks at the youth. "It sounds terrible, I know. But trust me....it has a kick to it like a Kroot."

Kaetlyn offers a charming smile to Alaric as Kasran engages in some appreciative banter, and she rests a hand gently on Kasran's shoulder.

"He's a handsome devil, Captain. Can we please keep this one?" Her accent is heavy, and foreign in a way that sends chills up Qualia's spine. To her words, however, Kasran just laughs loudly.

"My dear, I don't suppose Jonah here would appreciate us poaching his crew." Captain Hathaway just smiles curtly, but does not bother to correct Kasran on the nature of Alaric's status on his ship. "But the lad would be a welcome addition to dinner. The offer is, of course, open to all of you."

Captain Hathaway ended up passing on the meal himself, citing a need to speak to his contacts as soon as possible but promising - somewhat untruthfully - that he'd seek Kasran out to share a drink if he had the time after. Of course, Captain Hathaway at this point was prepared to go off on his own business and would be leaving the Acolytes to their own devices.

There were instructions left with their Lander pilot to ferry them down to the Colonial capitol as they needed, or they could take the Space Elevator if they were curious about the ancient peice of technology. It was unlikely that Captain Hathaway would be heading to the surface within the next few days - most business was accomplished on the void-station, after all.

With Lena, and Jericus seeking to head off on their own to explore the void-station, and Alaric seeming to have an active interest in the Rogue Trader and his female companion, it left Qualia, Ralix and Brother Nuric to determine if they were going to be joining for the meal or heading off on their own.

With Jericus' suggestion that they should meet back up within a two hour window on their mind, there would be plenty of opportunity to pick up a bit of news from the spacers, traders and station workers that were present.


Alaric's grin spreads. He swipes his nose with his thumb, and in a manner that says, 'I accept your challenge' responds, "Well it sounds like I will have to try it some time I image it would be quiet good for the digestion."



Alaric gives Captain Hathway a stage wink as he crosses his arms over his chest and says playfully, "Unfortunately for you Captinain Kasran, I don't think you could afford my services. But I will do you the service of joining you for dinner; just don't judge my flying skills or my shooting based on my table manners."




Ralix manages to hold his breakfast down as they travel through the docking bay and transport hub. Once they reach the Administratum level, he regains his composure and straightens his jacket out of habit. And with good timing, too, as they suddenly find themselves meeting with one of Captain Hathaway's fellow Rogue Traders. Ralix keeps good posture and wears an aloof smile, allowing the Captain to lead the conversation.

When Jericus makes his suggestions for splitting up and meeting in two hours, Ralix gives a wordless nod, before returning his attention to the mysterious stranger and his companion. He takes a note of the woman's stern glance and Nuric, but says nothing. When Nuric goes to leave, Ralix nods to him, and offers a kind smile.

Once Alaric starts interjecting and trying to talk himself up, Ralix decides it's time to intercede. "Now now, my boy, remember what I said about maintaining a balance of confidence and humility," he says with the tone of a teacher gently correcting a student. He pats Alaric on the shoulder in an almost paternal way, before turning to Captain Kasran and offering a charming smirk of his own. "You'll have to excuse my protege. He's taking my lesson's to heart with more eagerness than expected, especially the ones on fine dining and drink," he winks.

The nobleman takes a step forward, holding his hand up with his palm to his thumb to make a quick sign of the Aquila in courteous greeting, before extending the same hand to the Rogue Trader for a shake - a recognizable gesture of both good will and respect among the high class of many worlds. "Ralix Zamir, scion and emissary of House Zamir, long-journeyed Ubalto, Tower Sigma," he says pleasantly, wearing a well-meaning smile as he gives the traditional Ubaltan introduction. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and I would be most honored to join you and your lovely associate for a meal - and further discourse on marvelously esoteric alcohols," he says, cracking a roguish grin.


Common Lore: Imperium, to recognize Miss Kaetlyn's accent and where she's from: [roll0] vs 46

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION - APORIA SYSTEM
3.344.982.M41



Commander Roth simply quirked an eyebrow to Ralix' diatribe, perhaps a little amused by his stubborn resolve to see it through.

"Don't worry, Master Zamir. I'm sure that Corbin was just happy to get a chance to lay a hand on you without reprisal. I'm sure if you asked to buy him a drink as way of saying thanks, it would go a long way to earning you some goodwill. If you wish, of course."





Leah offered a gentle smile to Alaric, even going so far as to rest a hand on his shoulder comfortingly as she turned her attention away from her console for a few moments.

"No! Don't feel bad, Alaric. I'm happy to listen if you need...I'm no Confessor, but I've heard it helps to talk about it sometimes? Maybe...maybe over a glass of amasec or synthol after you have completed your duties?" She seemed hopeful, and the young ensign blushed as she realized just how forward she was being. Alaric caught a quiet snicker from two other officers who sat at another nearby console, their glances towards Leah and the young Acolyte filled with mirth.







Common Lore (Imperium): Kaetlyn's accent is thick but recognizable to the learned Adept. She hails from a now-defunct colony on the former Imperial world of Haitros. This would make her one of the last expatriates from this world left, as close to 98% of the population was annihilated during an Exterminatus when the planetary governor turned the world to the open worship of the Ruinous Powers. Now those few Haitrosian's who are left in the Sector are generally rogues, ne'er-do-wells and others who seek to keep as low a profile as possible.



With Nuric bowing out from the meal with Captain Dire and his companion, that left Ralix, Qualia and the young Alaric to join them. The Captain led them towards a small restaurant that was dimly lit with actual tallow candles, bathing the two dozen small tables in flickering yellowish light. It certainly had the ambiance for a quiet, intimate gathering.

An older man in a simple black suit led them towards a table tucked near the back after quickly gathering up a number of stiff sheets of leather parchment that had a small menu printed upon it.

Most of the food that was available was sea-food of sorts, all locally available from Aporia itself. Aporian Crawfish broiled in a wine and butter mixture. Salt-Eye Mussels pan-fried with Blackwater Kelp. Flank of Ice-Reaver.



Kasran helped Kaetlyn to her seat with a charming smile, before sitting himself down.

"So what brings you to Aporia? Not to worry..." He says with a wink. "I can be discrete. Any friend of Jonah's is a friend of mine." He leans back and clasps his hands together before him idly.

When the waiter returns, Kasran orders three bottles of amasec to be delivered to the table along with a bowl of breaded Lash-Fin livers; small chunks of smooth, succulent meat breaded lightly with a crispy and savoury batter.







If you're planning on asking around for information, or investigating anything then please give me a Search or Inquire test (based on whether you want to physically look for something, or ask around).

[CrimsonKnight]

The void-station consisted of several large domed transport hubs much like the one they entered through. Above it all were the offices and administration level, which included several restaurants and lounges to accomodate visiting traders and the staff that worked there.

Below all of it was a small merchant level where a few shops and even a couple bars rested to cater to the crews of visiting vessels while their Captains did business on the upper levels.

Of course, the last level was the entrace to the massive space-elevator that made the run up and down to the surface of Aporia every hour - the trip itself taking close to thirty minutes.

The keen-eyed Moritat caught the sight of several heavily armed and armoured men sitting at an old looking table inside the closest bar. Each of their armour's bore a stylized black wolfs-head upon the carapace plates covering their chests.

Jericus heard a few portly looking men in the grease and unguent stained coveralls of void-ship engine workers speaking about the trouble they were in; apparently their Chartist-trade vessel was supposed to meet to pick up a delivery from Velar's Hope but as the city-ship never arrived, they were without a cargo and, thus, were going to be taking a profit loss.



Hmm, interesting. Must be mercenaries or bodyguards of some sorts, they don't really look like Guardsmen and I doubt any gang would be able to escape notice on a station like this. Too clean and regulated. Maybe from one of the ships currently docked? It would help if I could recognize that emblem on their armor. I wonder if it's worth checking out.

Lena glanced around for Jericus until she spotted him busy listening on some off-duty void crewsman. Returning her attention to the group in front of her, she mentally shrugged and headed into the bar. She headed to a empty table and took a seat, sliding back the hood of her flak cloak. Motioning to the bartender or waitress (if there was one), she ordered a cheap ale. It would probably be watered down, but then again she was officially "on" right now and thus would not dare drink anything that could even have a chance of impairing her in her duties. Once her drink arrives, she leans back in her chair with it while trying to unobtrusively listen in to the armed men's conversation.

Let me know if you need any Skill Tests from me. Also don't forget I have the Unremarkable Talent which gives a bonus to avoid being noticed while with other people.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Qualia listened as Ralix explained his position, slightly surprising her with his honesty and position. She took a moment to process it, then responded

"Mr Zamir, I appreciate the honesty, and your faith in my abilities. I've certainly heard rumours of your previous misgivings, as well as what you've done since your 'incarceration' within the Emperor's hidden service. I need you to understand, however, that I come from a career of trust. That has been further reinforced with my latest calling, one wrong move by either myself or someone close to me and a lot of people don't ever get to go on and be one with the Emperor. I'd like to presume you've turned a new shift, but I simply don't have that luxury. Don't tell me you've changed, show me you've changed, you certainly seem to have made a fair start of it so far."

She leaves a moment for a response, but unless one is forthcoming, she excuses herself and returns to her quarters.
Qualia continued to view the new arrivals with suspicion, despite their friendliness with Captain Hathaway. Jericus' message further reinforces that, and while she gave no visible sign of acknowledgement, she knew no such response was needed. She followed the group what she presumed was a polite distance behind, emulating the position of a subordinate, relaxing her mind in order to search the area for obvious signs of Warp activity

[roll0] vs 34 (Per 34)
Settling at the dinner table, Qualia enjoyed another fine meal, making sure to steer clear of the Amasec. Her instincts were aligned with Jericus', that something about this didn't add up, and she wanted her wits about her if something went awry. Her suspicions further increased when they were asked what their business was. Neither fast talking nor lying were specialties of hers, so instead she held her tongue and subtlety scanned the room in front of her, trying to identify any help that may be more hidden, as well as potential rapid exit points

[roll1] vs 34 (Per 34)

[Bennosuke]

Alaric listened intently to his companion's advice, his eyes drawing in and out of focus, his face flush with drink. He hiccuped once, then responded, "Do both? Hmmmm. And you'd think The Emperor's work would be the hardest thing I had to do." He gives Ralix a smug grin, and wipes the collected glisten of sweat from his brow, before taking another sip of amsec. "So then my dear companion, why don't you regale me with some stories of your great conquests... if I am to take your oh so sage advice." He leans his head back and chuckles for a moment at this, then comes around to give Ralix a one eyed smirking challenge.

Alaric looks deep into Leah's eyes, perhaps focusing just a little to hard (but whose to say), and in a whisper says, "That is very sweet of you Leah. Emperor knows how I could deserve such kindness. Perhaps I could drum up a bottle of Amasec, or Synthol if you prefer. Here is my comlink frequency. You can reach me whenever you want."


Alaric caught a quiet snicker from two other officers who sat at another nearby console, their glances towards Leah and the young Acolyte filled with mirth.

Alaric makes sure to rest his hand in the small of the Ensign's back before breaking his intense eye contact and looking up at the two officers. He rests a hand on his hip, making sure to just slightly pull back the side of his red leather jacket to expose his holstered stub pistol. "Is there something I can help you gents with?", Alaric asks sternly, face turning a bright red.



Once Alaric starts interjecting and trying to talk himself up, Ralix decides it's time to intercede. "Now now, my boy, remember what I said about maintaining a balance of confidence and humility," he says with the tone of a teacher gently correcting a student. He pats Alaric on the shoulder in an almost paternal way, before turning to Captain Kasran and offering a charming smirk of his own. "You'll have to excuse my protege. He's taking my lesson's to heart with more eagerness than expected, especially the ones on fine dining and drink," he winks

Alaric brushes his hair back and quickly scowls at Ralix, before turning back to Captain Kasran and offering a rougish grin and a shrug of his shoulders. He gives a curt bow to Kaetlyn and still grinning says, "Unfortunately, that still does not change my price."

Alaric follows the group to the dinner table and takes his seat, reclining casually in his chair. As the food was brought out he looked at it suspiciously. This seafood was nothing he was used to, and he poked at a few pieces with his fork and sniffed at it cautiously before taking a bite.


"So what brings you to Aporia? Not to worry..." He says with a wink. "I can be discrete. Any friend of Jonah's is a friend of mine." He leans back and clasps his hands together before him idly.

Alaric yawns for a moment, seemingly disinterested in The Captain's line of questioning, then says, "Oh, this and that. Nothing too exciting." He leaves it at this, and figures if Ralix or one of the others wants to go to greater lengths of deception, he'd leave it to them.

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION – APORIA SYSTEM
3.334.982.M41


Leah’s blush deepens as Alaric stares into her eyes, and she takes her lower lip between her teeth shyly as she accepts his invitation for the comlink vox frequency. The young ensign inputs the information into her own, perhaps a bit too quickly; unintentionally revealing her excitement at the prospect.

”Thank you!” She says with a bashful smile.

When he calls out the other bridge officers on their snickering and gawking with the reveal of his pistol, they quickly turn back to their duties mollified.

Commander Roth, however, does not seem overly enthused with the obvious flirtation happening on the bridge, and she quickly comes to loom over the ensign and stares hard at Alaric.

”Don’t you have work to be doing, ensign? And you, Mister Varn. I don’t believe the invitation to the bridge extended so far as to distracting our staff.”



Psyniscience: The Warp seems fairly placid around Aporia, as far as Qualia can tell. There is nothing within the immediate vicinity that would cause any major disruptions or distortions, though…there is something…something hanging on the periphery of her senses. It lies below. Deep below and it has been there for a long, long time, slowly poisoning the Immaterium around it.

Awareness: For exit points, the restaurant had a back door that led into the kitchen areas, and a side door that extended to the washrooms and even further to a proper emergency exit into a maintenance hallway tucked in the back of the administratum level.
Kasran was a highly confident man, bordering on a level of arrogance that would seem appropriate for a Rogue Trader Captain, though Qualia got the impression his questions were rather pointed and leading. She also got the impression that his implication of friendship with Jonah Hathaway may have been a bit of an exaggeration.
The young companion with him, however, was the strangest. She had a foreign accent to be sure, and her appearance was well maintained like that of the noble-born or some other high class upbringing. But her mannerisms contrasted sharply with her apparel. She wore the dress of a youth raised in the Schola Progenium, but she carried herself and spoke like a courtesan.






You can make a Very Hard Common Lore (Imperium) test, or any Lore that deals with the Navy or Rogue Traders if you’d like to try and identify the crest their wearing. Otherwise, feel free to make an Awareness test or a Scrutiny test.


The watered down ale Lena had procured was bitter and a bit salty; likely a local brew that used the heavily salinized waters of the Aporian Seas.

The conversation between the armed men is terse, and frustration laced their voices.
They spoke at length about their job here being a bust, and that the Captain didn’t get to meet his contact. Supposedly, whomever they were supposed to meet on the surface had shied away from the meeting at the last minute claiming that they would be under far too much scrutiny to arrive on the planet. The message that was passed to the guards employer was that the contact would, instead, meet them in a month at some new coordinates that would be sent by Astropathic communication later in the week.




The flippant response given by Alaric seemed, for a moment, to invoke some ire from Kaetlyn. Those at the table could see a darkening of her expression, though Kasran laid a hand gently on her shoulder with a small smile. The gesture was meant to appear casual, though to the eyes of those at the table – perhaps better qualified to judge and guage such things than traditional shipmen or mercenaries – it was a distinctly calming move. Kasran sought to keep his companions temper in check.

”The life of a Chartist crew, am I right? The occasional joy of a foreign port, with long periods of nothing in between.” Kasran chuckled wistfully. ”I certainly wish life could be so….dull at times, but I am sad to admit that I have always craved a bit more, even growing up. More adventure. More wealth. More prestige.” His smile is infectious.

”I sense that you are, perhaps, cut from the same cloth, hmm lad?” Kasran asks of Alaric, before taking a small sip of his amasec.

[Bennosuke]

(OOC: Sorry, don't know if we needed spoiler if this was the only part of my post).

Alaric turns back to Commander Roth, an ear to ear grin spreading across his now ruby cheeks. He scratches the top of his head and says, "Sorry Commander. I did not mean to distract your crew. I was simply trying to learn more about the roles of the various crew members, which seemed important to my learning about piloting." He gives an 'oopsy' shrug and steps away from the Ensign to make his way back to the console. Though the moment Commander Roth has turned away he twists his head around to give Leah a charming wink.

[Lycan 01]

Ralix - Intermissions


Ralix nods, and cracks a small smile. "No, I don't think I'd mind buying him a drink at all. Maybe a round for him and the rest of your men, as an apology and show of good faith." He looks thoughtful for a moment, before asking: "Do you allow your men to play cards? I know such games are heavily frowned upon in the Astra Militarum, and aboard most Naval vessels. And you've done an excellent job of keeping your crew well organized and disciplined. I just thought I should ask before I offered to play a round with them or taught them the games played on my homeworld, lest I step on any toes or get anyone in trouble," he says sheepishly. He wants to build a rapport with the armsmen, but he'd rather not violate any rules or get anyone on Commander Roth's bad side. Better to ask her directly first. Hopefully she appreciates his direct approach...



Ralix nods along, listening with a stoic look on his face, though his lips do curl into a sympathetic frown.

"Yes, troublesome indeed..." he murmurs, before cracking a small little smile. "Ah, but fret not. You're in good company now, at least. People who have some fragment of understanding at least, even if shaking your hand does make the inside of my skull itch," he winks playfully.

He pours the Cleric another shot of amesac, to help him relax and feel more at ease. "I know little of Blanks, myself," he says, opting not to use the term _Untouchable_ around poor Nuric. "The Interrogator gave me a bare-bones briefing on you and your condition when we were first assigned to work together, and I suspect that was both due to a lack of knowledge on your condition in general, and her wishing to avoid provoking my curiosity," he smirks lazily.

"But yes," he idly waves a hand, "You certainly seem like a pleasant individual, and good conversation. Simply... unlucky, in a way. Of course, if we run into any rogue psykers or witches, don't be alarmed if I suddenly try to hide behind you..." he says with a roguish grin, trying his best to put the Cleric more at ease, both with his own condition, and Ralix as a companion.



Ralix blushes a bit and stares into space, before downing another shot of amesac. "So," he grins lopsidedly, "Once upon a time in my home spire, me and some friends attended a masquerade ball held by some nobles of a rival spire. We brought along several bottles of high-proof moonshine we bought from my underhive smuggling contact, and..."

And thus Ralix probably tells Alaric way too many stories he probably shouldn't, and teaches Alaric some things he almost definitely shouldn't.

Fun times.



Ralix listens along, and once Qualia is done, he gives her a soft smile. "I understand. Trust and respect are things always earned, not given, of course. For what it's worth, I appreciate you giving me a chance. And I shall endeavor not to disappoint. Now, I should let you get back to enjoying your evening."

He flashes the sign of the aquila, before giving a courteous bow. "Until again, comrade," he politely bids her farewell, before turning to leave, unless she has more to add.



---


Ralix - Fancy Dinner at Aporia

Ralix wears a pleasant smile as they join Hathaway, Kasran, and Kaetlyn for dinner. He makes a point of waiting to be seated until after Kaetlyn has already taken her seat, as proper etiquette dictates, and likewise makes a point of pulling out a seat for Qualia and gesturing for her to take it, before finding his own chair.

Taking his seat, Ralix observes the fine meal before them with a satisfied smile, and helps himself to a modest share of appetizers. He's focused on etiquette and social grace right now, not filling his stomach... especially as he begins to realize the exact nature and importance of his new dinner companions.

"Now now, discretion is appreciated, yes, but we're not that worthy of note or concern," Ralix replies to the Rogue Trader modestly, though he mirror's the Captain's demeanor with a roguish smirk of his own. "The details aren't important or worth boring such fine company with, though I can tell you House Zamir is always interested in finding new business ventures on distant worlds... or new places for our beloved elders to visit," he sighs melodramatically. He then cracks another crooked grin. "I can also tell you that dear Captain Hathaway here has been forced to listen to me pitch all manner of business propositions over the last several weeks. Patience is one of his virtues, I've learned..."

Leaning back into his seat, he gives an idle wave of his hand, gesturing to his comrades. "And of course, what nobleman leaves home without an entourage of guards and guides? Qualia, pardon her shyness, is my guide to void-faring and stellar transit. Her insights and advice have been invaluable, though she's not one for conversation, I'm afraid. Meanwhile, young Alaric's talents were wasted in the Underhive, and he's been quite the fast learner of both business and etiquette. Though I see his sense of courtesy is still somewhat in need of improving," he says with an apologetic smile - and a quick, small glare at the youth.

"My sincerest apologize, m'lady," he quietly tells her, genuine and sincere. "I take responsibility for my protege's brashness, and will endeavor to teach him more respect. On my honor as a gentleman, and a scholar," he says before giving a small nod of courtesy and respect, and flashing a pleasant little smile.

However, Kaetlyn and Kasran may notice that after his apology and remark about being a scholar, Ralix drums his fingers a few time on the table. A few quick raps, seemingly out of habit or absent-mindedness.

Of course, if they have any knowledge of or experience with the Hetaireia Lexis, they may recognize it as something more...


Ralix uses Ciphers - Hetaireia Lexis to drum a pattern that equates to a secret greeting, trying to see if they're also members or allies of that organization. :smalltongue:

Also, going to go ahead and throw down a Charm test, to be so disarmingly pleasant that Kasran doesn't try to pry further into who we are or why we're here. Also, to keep on Kaetlyn's good side. For the love of the Emprah, we need to stay on her good side. :smalleek:

Charm: [roll0] vs 50 (Fel 40, +10 for Etiqeutte in formal situations)

And then hopefully +10 for Peer if either of them are Nobility, Academic, or Underworld. And I'm fairly sure Kaetlyn may be at least one of those...

[Sarak]

"Indeed," Nuric replied, accepting the proffered drink and easing into his chair once more, "the Inquisitor informed me that that would be one of the strongest assets I could bring to his teams. The witch, and worse, suffer more in my 'presence' than most. Qualia at least attempts to be as polite about it as possible given circumstance; I do wish this infernal device mollified the effect on her further, but I suppose we all suffer in different ways in His service."

He savoured the taste of the drink in his hand, and the warming effect it had. "Truth be told, those of our band have been very accomodating. It stands in stark contrast to my life on Hraline. It has been difficult, but if the Emperor has seen fit to burden me with such a trait then I'll see it set to purpose in His service." He raised his glass to Ralix, grateful for the companionship. "To good company in the face of itchy skulls, then," a smirk on his face.

It took considerable will to retain the contents of his stomach as Nuric wandered the trade domes. He'd been keeping an eye out for anything unusual under pretense of offering prayer and benediction as he went; an easy cover to maintain, as the act was legitimate (and surely needed in any case). As he made his way through the various domes his constitution began to waver, and he lingered only as long as needed. He doubted he'd find anything out of the ordinary down here, but figured that his best contribution aboard the void-station had been to remove himself from Dire's companion's presence. Perhaps he'd wander back up long enough for his appetite to return to him, and he could investigate one of those restaurants...

[roll0] vs 18

[Erulasto]

APORIA TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41


Leah blushes furiously at Alaric’s charming glance after Roth has diverted her attention back to what she considers more important matters.
At the console before the young pilot-in-training, the finalized approach vectors as plotted and charted by Leah popped up, showing the bearing and heading and appropriate speed and deceleration factors that would be required to safely guide the Wayfarer into its assigned berth at the void-station.
A senior pilot made his way over to Alaric with a small smile and began to let his fingers dance across the console, all the while he began to speak in a rather droning tone to explain the process to the young scum.



Commander Roth seems mollified, and somewhat impressed at Ralix’s insistence at making sure things have been smoothed over between himself and the armsmen in question.
”So long as it does not become problematic enough to interfere with their duties, Captain Hathaway has a bit more leniency in regards to past-times and off-duty entertainment than a typical Naval vessel.” Roth shrugs lightly. ”Despite my better judgement. He once brought in a cadre of….dancers from the pleasure planet of Cozmera Wyrd to entertain his officers. It was an…interesting….evening.” The Commander actually scowled as she thought back to all the trouble that particular endeavor caused.




The Meal

While neither Kaetlyn or Kasran seem to react to the Hetaireia Lexis cypher tapped out by Ralix, both seem pleased with the direction of the conversation. Kaetlyn herself still seems rather withdrawn and portrays herself as uninterested though her gaze is constantly lingering on the Acolytes in between bites of her food or sips of her drink; she noticeably stays away from the amasec, instead simply drinking chilled water.

”Jonah? Patient?” Kasran laughs, and slaps the table melodramatically. ”That is not a word I have ever come to associate with the good Captain. There was one time, he was running a shipment of obscura….well, perhaps it would be best if you asked him to tell that story.”

The Lady Kaetlyn finally fixes Ralix with an unblinking stare as he apologizes for Alaric’s brashness. She seems to force a smile after a moment that lingers just a touch too long to be comfortable.
”All is forgiven, sir. I can appreciate the passionate exuberance of youth. Have you heard of the trouble on Aporia?” It’s an abrupt change of direction for the conversation, and it seems to earn a bit of a glare from Kasran as she brings it up.

”City-Ships missing? Possible mutation? Makes a girl fret as to the slow decline of safety. Aporia has always been so….stable.”




Nuric was passing through one of the trade-domes, the last of his walkabout, when he heard a shout of shock and outrage from below. The commotion drew his gaze to a large shipping contained that seemed to be filled to the brim with briny water and hundreds of the small plankton-like creatures that smelled so foul.

While this itself would not be cause for alarm, what was problematic was the long whip-thin tentacles that were thrashing about inside the container, causing the entire thing to rock back and forth with the force of the movement inside.

Two young men and a large hauling servitor were working to stabilize the crate, when all of a sudden there was a grinding pop and the sealed lid ripped open. The flailing tentacles immediately began to strike out wildly; one smacking the servitor so hard it toppled backwards onto the ground – sparks flying from smashed circuitry. Two others coiled around one of the young men and pulled him viciously towards the crate – seeking it seemed, to drag him kicking and screaming inside the briny depths of the large container and in to whatever fate awaited him inside.

Down the way, Nuric could see several members of the station Arbitrator forces rushing towards them, but it was unlikely they would make it in time to save the lad from a watery grave.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Qualia remained quiet, giving a brief nod as Ralix 'introduced' her, before returning to her meal. She couldn't shake the bad feeling, so planned an escape through the restrooms, it should be easy enough to excuse the slower members of the group as a headstart.

As Kaetlyn suddenly brought up the matter of the missing city ships, Qualia looked a bit stunned, and hoped that her reaction was lost amongst a look of surprise, an indication that she hadn't heard the information before.

"Missing? How so? Decent void sensors can see a vessel huge distances away from a planet, how can one be lost with the confines of a water body?"

[Bennosuke]

(OOC: Sorry I somehow missed this:
The flippant response given by Alaric seemed, for a moment, to invoke some ire from Kaetlyn. Those at the table could see a darkening of her expression, though Kasran laid a hand gently on her shoulder with a small smile. The gesture was meant to appear casual, though to the eyes of those at the table – perhaps better qualified to judge and guage such things than traditional shipmen or mercenaries – it was a distinctly calming move. Kasran sought to keep his companions temper in check.

”The life of a Chartist crew, am I right? The occasional joy of a foreign port, with long periods of nothing in between.” Kasran chuckled wistfully. ”I certainly wish life could be so….dull at times, but I am sad to admit that I have always craved a bit more, even growing up. More adventure. More wealth. More prestige.” His smile is infectious.

”I sense that you are, perhaps, cut from the same cloth, hmm lad?” Kasran asks of Alaric, before taking a small sip of his amasec. )

Oblivious to Kaetyln's response, Alaric continues to pick at his food and help himself to hearty sips of Amasec. When addressed by Kasran he responds as if deep in thought, "Hmmm.... Alaric reclines deep into his chair, leaning it back to a precarious position, then responds, "I suppose that is true, though in some ways I feel I have already had my fair share of excitement. My childhood tribulations have brought me certain skills, and so I use them to make a living. Sometimes my job is glamerous, and sometimes I would rather my skills and temper were better suited for normalcy." He flashes a grin back at Kasran, and takes another sip of amasec, allowing his chair back into an upright position.


Ralix: Leaning back into his seat, he gives an idle wave of his hand, gesturing to his comrades. "And of course, what nobleman leaves home without an entourage of guards and guides? Qualia, pardon her shyness, is my guide to void-faring and stellar transit. Her insights and advice have been invaluable, though she's not one for conversation, I'm afraid. Meanwhile, young Alaric's talents were wasted in the Underhive, and he's been quite the fast learner of both business and etiquette. Though I see his sense of courtesy is still somewhat in need of improving," he says with an apologetic smile - and a quick, small glare at the youth.

Alaric gives a a slight stage bow towards Ralix, grinning like that cat that caught the mutant canary, reveling in his companion's description.


The Lady Kaetlyn finally fixes Ralix with an unblinking stare as he apologizes for Alaric’s brashness. She seems to force a smile after a moment that lingers just a touch too long to be comfortable.
”All is forgiven, sir. I can appreciate the passionate exuberance of youth. Have you heard of the trouble on Aporia?” It’s an abrupt change of direction for the conversation, and it seems to earn a bit of a glare from Kasran as she brings it up.

”City-Ships missing? Possible mutation? Makes a girl fret as to the slow decline of safety. Aporia has always been so….stable.”

Alaric waits for their hosts to answer Qualia's questions, then chimes in, "There were rumors about this aboard ship. It was the Velar's Hope that disappeared, right?" He allows himself to show genuine enthusiasm, playing into his role as youthful scoundrel poking his nose where it does not belong. He continues, "One has to be curious what that does to the reputation of the Dynastic Captain of the Velar's Hope, and if his record was untarnished before such a terrible incident."

(OOC: Alaric is hoping to lead Kasran here into spilling something he might know. If you want would be happy to roll for it.)

[Lycan 01]

APORIA TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41

Commander Roth seems mollified, and somewhat impressed at Ralix’s insistence at making sure things have been smoothed over between himself and the armsmen in question.
”So long as it does not become problematic enough to interfere with their duties, Captain Hathaway has a bit more leniency in regards to past-times and off-duty entertainment than a typical Naval vessel.” Roth shrugs lightly. ”Despite my better judgement. He once brought in a cadre of….dancers from the pleasure planet of Cozmera Wyrd to entertain his officers. It was an…interesting….evening.” The Commander actually scowled as she thought back to all the trouble that particular endeavor caused.




Ralix can't help but snort a bit and grin in amusement. "Oh, interesting indeed, no doubt. I knew the Captain was rather cavalier about some things, but I didn't realize to that extent. While I'm sure it keeps the voyages from being dull... you have my sympathies, Commander," he says with a small nod. "But no, I will ensure that my attempts at carousing with the armsmen do not become any sort of distraction from their duties and responsibilities. Just a few drinks, and some lessons in the card games enjoyed by the aristocracy of my homeworld." A pause. "And maybe a few of the underhive games too..." he muses with an oh so innocent smile and an aloof shrug.




The Meal

While neither Kaetlyn or Kasran seem to react to the Hetaireia Lexis cypher tapped out by Ralix, both seem pleased with the direction of the conversation. Kaetlyn herself still seems rather withdrawn and portrays herself as uninterested though her gaze is constantly lingering on the Acolytes in between bites of her food or sips of her drink; she noticeably stays away from the amasec, instead simply drinking chilled water.

”Jonah? Patient?” Kasran laughs, and slaps the table melodramatically. ”That is not a word I have ever come to associate with the good Captain. There was one time, he was running a shipment of obscura….well, perhaps it would be best if you asked him to tell that story.”

The Lady Kaetlyn finally fixes Ralix with an unblinking stare as he apologizes for Alaric’s brashness. She seems to force a smile after a moment that lingers just a touch too long to be comfortable.
”All is forgiven, sir. I can appreciate the passionate exuberance of youth. Have you heard of the trouble on Aporia?” It’s an abrupt change of direction for the conversation, and it seems to earn a bit of a glare from Kasran as she brings it up.

”City-Ships missing? Possible mutation? Makes a girl fret as to the slow decline of safety. Aporia has always been so….stable.”

Ralix chuckles a bit at Kasran's not-subtle outing of Captain Hathaway's more dubious exploits. "Oh, he's full of surprises, yes. But not to worry, I'm not one to judge or recoil over his past misadventures - besides, I can assure him that such a shipment would have earned him quite a pretty pile of thrones on Ubalto, regardless of which hive levels he hawked it to," the nobleman croons, giving Captain Hathaway a lopsided smirk and a knowing look in his eye. Obscura shipments are integral to many hives' underworld economy, after all, and somebody has to do the dirty work of shipping the stuff. "But no, he can regale me with that tale at a later time, if he feels inclined... or if I ply him with enough amesac, I suppose," he winks.

When Kaetlyn "accepts" Ralix's apology with a forced smile, Ralix recognizes that she's really just keeping up appearances and allowing him to save face. He's done this social dance far too many times to miss the fact that she's still quite displeased, and now that ire is likely at least somewhat aimed at him. He responds as etiquette dictates - a meek smile of his own, to show humility and recognition that he's now on thin ice with her. When she suddenly changes topics, though, his eyes light up slightly - it seems she's throwing him a chance to salvage their social interaction... or throwing him some bait.

Ralix realizes he needs to pick his words carefully. News of the missing ship probably hasn't gone far off-world, outside of well connected individuals such as the Inqui-

And then Alaric immediately begins to blather and reveal that they know all about the missing city-ship and the dynastic captains. Information that a travelling nobleman's retinue probably wouldn't know. Ralix suppresses a scream of frustration, instead putting on a mask of amusement as he glances over at Alaric with a raised eyebrow. "Ah, so you have been doing your homework? And here I thought you'd ignored my advice to ask around and learn everything you could about Aporia before we arrived..." Ralix muses, giving an idle wave of his hand. "Excellent work, my boy."

With suspicion hopefully diverted, he turns his attention back to Kaetlyn and Kasran. "I'm curious, though. While I had indeed heard a rumor or two, I assumed them to be out of proportion, or something that would be quickly resolved. Pray tell, please enlighten us more as to what's been going on here as of late, and what would worry you such. I can't help but notice you said missing ships, Miss Kaetlyn." He tilts his head slightly, raising an intrigued eyebrow. "Have there been multiple lost vessels? Or just the worry that more may be lost?" he asks, glancing back and forth equally between her and the Rogue Trader. He already noticed his earlier annoyance at Kaetyln diverting attention to herself; he's trying to keep him involved as well, to avoid annoying or slighting him.

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41

The Meal

Kasran leans forward across the table to fetch one of the crystal decanters of amasec and pours himself another - albeit small - glass. He swirls the dark amber liquid about thoughtfully.

"It's amazing what you can convince someone to do when they've had just the right amount..." The roguish Captain smirks, and downs the entirety of his glass in one long draught. He sighs pleasantly before setting the now empty glass on the tabletop before him and dabbing at his lips with a cloth hankerchief.

"I will admit, I'm a bit troubled that good old Jonah would chance coming here - though in truth, it doesn't surprise me that astropathic communications would be somewhat sketchy lately." Kasran pauses, his gaze flitting to Kaetlyn for the briefest of moments.

"Yes, yes. Missing." The Rogue Trader says with a small sigh. "You're correct, of course. Any decent orbital scan should be able to detect the ship....Velar's Hope" Kasran confirms for Alaric. "The situation on Aporia is a bit more....complicated...than a city-ship going missing. Not as though that isn't a significant problem on its own, mind you. No...the problems on Aporia are multiple and though each, in and of itself would be troublesome, when they're all compiling together it makes it that much harder to accomplish anything."
Kasran pauses, and takes a bite of a small piece of seared sea-creature flesh before chewing thoughtfully.
Kaetlyn speaks up as he does.
"Had Kasran's ship been in orbit, we could have offered the use of our own sensors to try and detect the ship. But we were unaware of the problems when we arrived, and by the time we had been educated, the Direwolf was already out of the system." She explains. "This station has its own Auger arrays, and in theory should be able to detect the missing ship. However, the small Mechanicus cadre that oversees the maintenance on Aporia's technology seems baffled by the emergence of...what did they call it, my dear?" She glances to Kasran curiously.

He nods, and sets his fork down while swallowing before replying. "I believe they called it a self-replicating invasive algorithm, whatever that is. Apparently it's infected many of the systems in Aporro City, and traces have even been noticed here on the station. So far it is limited to the communications and the Auger arrays. It's..." He pauses and offers a rather fake-looking sheepish smile. "It's why I called the Direwolf back early. I have no desire to be stuck on the station if this....infection...decides to vent the atmosphere, or disable life-sustainer systems."

Kaetlyn suddenly pales - it's hard to notice with her complexion, but there is a momentary flicker of pure surprise and shock written in her eyes.

"Forgive me, please. I must attend to some personal business." She rises abruptly, and with a slender hand lingering on Kasran's cheek for a moment, she departs towards the restrooms of the restaurant.

Kasran seems rather unphased by her sudden departure, and instead leans forward conspiratorily.

"From what I hear, the Dynastic-Captain of Velar's Hope has an implaccable track record. They're one of the most reliable of city-ships. It's a pity that the vessel is missing." The corner of his lip quirks as if he's fighting off a smile.

"And yes, ships, as in more than one. There was another ship...I believe it was the Aporia's Blessing? It had stumbled upon a few survivors from the Velar's Hope if the stories are to be believed. But the ship was supposed to dock at Aporro City to allow the survivors to be taken and debriefed by the locale Governor. Apparently the word is he's asked for some outside assistance in the matter. I heard the Governor was planning on having the survivors brought to the city to make their interogations easier. But the city-ship that found them is a week late, and the few landers and atmospheric fliers the city has haven't been able to find any trace of it in the surrounding waters."

He finally leans back and shrugs.

"It's a troubling thing, really. If these ships have, Emperor forbid, sunk? The economic fall-out to the planet would be rather significant. Even just for two of them...."

[Lycan 01]

Ralix - Dinner Discourse
3.334.982.M41

Ralix doesn't join Kasran in downing a glass of amesac - instead he sticks to iced water as well, intending to keep his wits sharp in this game of verbal wit.

He listens along thoughtfully, keeping a bemused smile during much of the explanations. When Kaetlyn goes to take her leave, Ralix gives her a nod of courtesy, and thumbs his palm to give her a quick sign of the Aquila as she departs.

Turning back to Kasran, Ralix's expression shifts a bit. A coy smirk tugs at his lips, as his eyes narrow in thought. "Fascinating. So, by sheer luck, we've happened upon a planet in the throes of confusion, with rumor and dread gnawing at the citizenry. Ships are missing, the governor is no doubt looking for any assistance he can get his hands on, and I'm sure many of the more influential citizenry would be willing to pay good thrones for some semblance of assured security... or a quick trip to the nearest Imperial world. Yes, ample opportunity for a Rogue Trader to try his luck," he muses, glancing idly to Captain Hathaway with a thoughtful tilt of his head.

He then turns back to Kasran and frowns. "Beg pardon, though, but.... Didn't your lovely associate mention something about mutations?" he asks warily. "You left that out of your explanations, I believe."

[Bennosuke]

Leaning forward in rapt interest to the Captain's tale, Alaric dreamily says, "Well, that is some respectable gossip!" He takes another sip of amasec, letting more hit his top lip then the actually enter his throat. Placing the glass down he turns to Captain Hathaway, "My apologies Captain, would you mind pointing me in the direction of the restroom?" He smirks at Kasran and says, "Too much to drink I guess."

Once given the appropriate directions, Alaric excuses himself from the table for a moment, and leans in to his buzz, allowing it alter his gait beyond his actual intoxication as he departs from the table.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

As Alairc excused himself, Qualia contained her frustrations. She could see what he was up to, trying to catch Kaetlyn separated, but in so doing he'd separated from the group. Protecting them both would already be difficult enough, but with them in two places, that became impossible. She couldn't follow, that would be suspicious, so she remained at the table, giving a small nod to Alairc as he left, but with an icy look in her eyes, before turning back to the ever diminishing table.

[Sarak]

Nuric was passing through one of the trade-domes, the last of his walkabout, when he heard a shout of shock and outrage from below. The commotion drew his gaze to a large shipping contained that seemed to be filled to the brim with briny water and hundreds of the small plankton-like creatures that smelled so foul.

While this itself would not be cause for alarm, what was problematic was the long whip-thin tentacles that were thrashing about inside the container, causing the entire thing to rock back and forth with the force of the movement inside.

Two young men and a large hauling servitor were working to stabilize the crate, when all of a sudden there was a grinding pop and the sealed lid ripped open. The flailing tentacles immediately began to strike out wildly; one smacking the servitor so hard it toppled backwards onto the ground – sparks flying from smashed circuitry. Two others coiled around one of the young men and pulled him viciously towards the crate – seeking it seemed, to drag him kicking and screaming inside the briny depths of the large container and in to whatever fate awaited him inside.

Down the way, Nuric could see several members of the station Arbitrator forces rushing towards them, but it was unlikely they would make it in time to save the lad from a watery grave.



Calling out in shock, Nuric froze; the drop down from the walkways would surely incapacitate him from this height, but it didn't look like the young man had the strength to keep himself from the metal container long enough for the monk to rush down the stairs. Heart beating quick and strong now, still unused to the action that service to the Golden Throne required, he drew his .40 Talic from beneath his robes and took aim at what he thought was the center mass of those writhing whips. He'd spoken a few times during transit with Qualia and Captain Hathaway about the hulls of ships and decompression; he only hoped he'd picked up enough from them to judge the strength of those shipping containers well enough. Speaking a Litany of True Striking in a steady voice and holding his aim, he squeezed off a burst of automatic fire, the rounds barely showing as they entered the frothy surface of the water. Not waiting to stick around to see if he'd been successful, he turned and sprinted down the first set of stairs as quickly as he could; the next landing was just barely low enough to warrant a leap, and he dropped down to the deck with a thud and rolled to take the impact better, suddenly very grateful for Jericus's daily calisthenics. He was up and running in no time towards the man, hoping to help haul him back and attempt to prise the tentacles from the man's body.

Ballistics: [roll0] vs 59, including the bonus for Full Auto. [roll1] for damage, if applicable.

If anything else is needed, like a Strength test to help the young man if he's still there or to avoid being sucked out of the hole in the hull I may inadvertently cause, let me know! :smalleek:

Edit: Ouch! Maximum damage, minimum accuracy. Nice to see those lessons are paying off, hahaha!

[ArendK]

Jericus was found himself entertained by the locals in the city. Everyone has a story to tell. Some interesting, some not. The trick was getting the right story from the right person. While Jericus was charming for a grunt, but held no candles to Ralix or even Alaric when it came to being slick-tongued.

Jericus "ear-hustled" some crew-members as best he could without being obvious. Others he shared a LHO stick with as they griped about any concerns they had (he added his own gripes of having to deal with the unholy smells from the fish-creatures earlier as though he was a loader). His hope was that Lenas eyes were sharper than his while his mouth and ears kept everyone else busy.

Seeing Lena step into the bar, he followed a short minute later, finishing his stick and departing from the conversation politely.

He sat down away from Lena, ordered a light drink and keyed his micro-bead as quietly as he could; hopefully the dinner party was getting something a bit more substantial, but maybe there was something he found that the more scholarly Acolytes could see that Jericus couldn't.

"Word of the disappearance of the Velar's Hope is spreading to more common knowledge; crewmen supposed to meet up from other ships for delivery have been talking. I highly doubt it's just the one I talked to either that has had this problem."

[CrimsonKnight]

Lena nodded to Jericus as he appeared at the bar's entrance and beckoned him over to her table. She listened to his report on the common talk he'd overheard, which was about what she expected: long on fear and uncertainty, but short on any actual knowledge. She began speaking in a low voice once Jericus had finished.

"The muscle over there were having much the same problem I think, though in their case, their business associate is too skittish over all the attention from the missing ship. Pretty sure their business is not of the legitimate type. I don't suppose you recognize that black wolf emblem of theirs?"

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41


The trade depot was already teetering on the verge of anarchy as the thing thrashed within the confines of the large shipping crate; each passage of a tentacle spilling briny water and the fleshy, protein-rich proto-plankton across the deck.
When Brother Nuric opened fire, the shouts from the depot workers intensified into screams that bordered on panic. The full-auto burst from Nuric’s .40 Talic boomed through the depot and echoed across the high, domed ceiling.
The Cleric had been drilling with his firearms for long months now, but the suddenness of the situation and the kick-back of recoil disrupted his aim; the rounds howling as they sped across the trade depot and into the churning, frothy waters of the shipping container. Fortunately, none of the shots went wide – all contained within the crate itself.

There was a shrieking wail that bubbled up from within the depths of the container, and the briny waters began to darken with an oily green-black spread from within.

The tentacles recoiled and withdrew from thrashing about madly – even going so far as to drop the flailing man to the deck from a height of well over ten feet. The impact was bone-jarring, and the youth was rolling around on the floor; one leg was bent at an odd angle, and his coveralls and the flesh beneath were torn and shredded. It appeared that something on those tentacles were barbed, or hooked and did a number to the man’s midsection when it wrapped around him.

When Nuric landed on the deck floor and rushed towards the young man, he could see a squad of station security arrive as well. Some were spreading out, and climbing atop nearby shipping crates to gain a better vantage point inside the container.

The point seemed moot, as a moment later the tentacles surged forth from the water once more – grasping nearby crates, and even stretching up towards the catwalks above. Once latched on, they seemed to heave and draw a massively fleshy thing covered in tiny, hair-like tendrils and large lamprey-like, undulating maws.

The security forces immediately opened fire, and Nuric ducked his head low as he slid to a stop next to the injured youth, tracers from autoguns and retina-searing flashes from las-pistols flashing overhead.

The thing flailed and wailed as the shots tore into its soft, fleshy body over and over, until with one last shuddering keen it toppled out of the crate with a wave of briny, bloody water.

The youth had an obvious broken leg, and was losing a lot of blood. The security forces didn’t seem at all concerned with the young man; more pressing threats at hand.


The Meal

”Indeed, sir. The increasing instability in the region is offering a great deal of new business ventures for an intrepid entrepreneur who is willing to do what needs to be done. It’s a sad day when the Imperium isn’t able to keep it’s territory amicable, but still….the old adage that war is good for profit is certainly true.”

Kasran pauses for a moment, watching Ralix curiously before allowing a small smile to grace his features.

”Mutations, aye. I’ve got it on good authority that the few cast-aways that were picked up from Velar’s Hope all began to show signs of mutation within the last few weeks. Tentacles, new mouths opening up, slimy skin. Revolting stuff.”

When Alaric excuses himself, he tips his head to the lad at his departure. ”It happens to the best of us, lad. Don’t trouble yourself on my account.”



Tucked into the back of the restaurant is a small hallway with a set of washrooms. It’s dimly lit, with only a single pot-lamp tucked into the ceiling offering a spot-light illumination right between the two doors that lead to the washrooms. At the end of the hall is a single door that leads into the kitchen area where staff can come and go at their leisure.

As Alaric steps into the hall, much of the din of conversation from the restaurant proper fades to background noise. The only other sound heard is the sound of heaving and retching from inside the women’s washroom. It sounds like someone either ate something that didn’t agree with them, or is suffering from some other kind of stomach ailment.




As the two more martially-trained Acolytes sit and hold their low-volume conversation via the micro-beads, they see a sudden flurry of activity. A cadre of station security, armed with las-pistols, stun batons and autoguns rush past the bar they’re in towards one of the Trade Depot hubs – the one that they know Brother Nuric had been wandering in not that long ago.

The rush of security personnel has some of the nearby bar patrons muttering among themselves, and Lena’ picks up someone speculating that perhaps they fished up more bodies, much like they did the week before.








Common Lore (Legends): Most of the stories, and lore from Haitros was declared heretical in the latter years of the planets existence. When the Exterminatus occurred fifteen years ago – a bombardment of Cyclonic Torpedoes – the Ordo Hereticus declared much of the history and knowledge of Haitros heretical knowledge. The only legend that truly lingered, passed down in quiet whispers, was the knowledge that before the Heresy began there was a schism in the high-borne family that ruled Haitros. Several members of the family fled attempts on their lives, and disappeared into the wider galaxy. The legend claims that there is a direct descendant of Haitros’ ruling dynasty still alive out there.

Scholastic Lore (Occult): Haitros had a reputation in the latter years of its Heretical existence for blending mutation-rife DNA into the bloodlines of those who were in positions of power. They had unparalleled skill with genetics, and bred mutant war-beasts for use on the front-lines as well. There are less than a thousand Haitrossians left in the Galaxy, or so it is suspected by the Administratum and the Ordo Hereticus….and the legend that part of the ruling family still lives has ties to truth as at least one of the members of the Dynasty that was unaccounted for during the final days of the Heresy. This particular member of the Dynasty was named Gaulyk and was a true master of Genetics – having completed his training as a Magos-Biologis of the Adeptus Mechanicus. He was declared Excommunicate Traitoris along with the rest of the family.

Forbidden Lore (Heresy): Of the thousand documented survivors, it was suspected that at least half of them possessed some sort of Warp-taint; mostly mutations on behalf of the Dynastic ruling family, but there were a few known Psykers. Of the thousand, seven hundred and thirteen of them have standing kill/capture orders from the Ordo Hereticus and the Ordo Malleus wants to get its hands on sixteen more.

NOTE: The Haitrossian language was declared Heretical as well, as most of the profane knowledge that came out of the world was written in its native tongue. This is textbook suppression of sensitive information.





Common Knowledge (War): The Black Wolfshead heraldry has occurred several times throughout the last several decades. Originally called the Wolves of Durrax, they were the 35th Penal Legion from the penal colony of Durrax. They were vicious and incredibly proficient killers. At some point, the 35th Penal Legion disappeared during massive engagement against an Ork Waaagh!. They reappeared several years later as hired guns, having sold their Penal Legion’s services to the Dire Dynasty of Rogue Traders (which, if unbelievable rumours were to be believed, was able to procure an official pardon from the Astra Militarum for the Legion). They now serve as the personal army of Captain Kasran Dire. They are still brutal, proficient killers and stories of their ruthlessness spread far and wide.

[Lycan 01]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41

The Meal

”Indeed, sir. The increasing instability in the region is offering a great deal of new business ventures for an intrepid entrepreneur who is willing to do what needs to be done. It’s a sad day when the Imperium isn’t able to keep it’s territory amicable, but still….the old adage that war is good for profit is certainly true.”

Kasran pauses for a moment, watching Ralix curiously before allowing a small smile to grace his features.

”Mutations, aye. I’ve got it on good authority that the few cast-aways that were picked up from Velar’s Hope all began to show signs of mutation within the last few weeks. Tentacles, new mouths opening up, slimy skin. Revolting stuff.”

When Alaric excuses himself, he tips his head to the lad at his departure. ”It happens to the best of us, lad. Don’t trouble yourself on my account.”


Ralix - Dinner Party
3.334.982.M41

Ralix listens with an air of almost disinterest, idly poking at his plate and munching thoughtfully on another piece of fine dining. "The Imperium is indeed rather expansive, and pity the Administratum clerks who hold entire sectors' fates in their hands. One typo on a report, and billions may starve," he says with an idle shrug. He then glances back at Kasran and Hathaway with a knowing smirk. "But that's also why fine gentlemen such as you are so important, ensuring that the many distant or esoteric worlds aren't accidentally forgotten... and of course, ample lucrative business ventures."

At the talk of mutants, though, his smirk fades, and his expression darkens. "That... is indeed troubling news. I'd expect to hear of such mutations at the bottom of an industrial hive colony rife with pollution, not a pristine agricultural world such as this. Strange, and perturbing..." he muses, pausing to rub his chin in thought. "Perhaps we should hasten our departure from this world as well..." he frowns.

He then brings the pleasant smile back to his face, and mirrors Kasran in returning his curious look. "By the by, if you don't mind my curiosity, where might you be heading to next? Since my time here may be cut short, I suppose I might as well seek another world of interest to visit. That, or perhaps some new business ventures to invest in, should you have any to suggest," he winks.


Charm test to see if Ralix can smooth-talk Kasran into revealing his next move or job, in case we need to pester him again later. :smalltongue:

Charm: [roll0] vs 60? (Fel 40, 10 Etiquette, maybe 10 Peer?)

[Bennosuke]

Alaric listens for a moment to the woman wretching. His frayed morals twist for a second then he knocks twice and and pushes the door open if it isn’t locked. Regardless he will say, “I apologize mam’ I just wanted to know if there is anything I can do, or if you would like me to call the management if you are not well.”

[Sarak]

Nuric easily picked the young man up, a life of labour rendering the victim's weight a minor burden. Hauling him back out of range of the fallen creature's tentacles despite anguished protest, he set him down and tore strips off his robes to attempt to bind the young man's wounds. He was no medica and had no supplies on hand, but he'd do what he could. He tried to calm the youth by reciting Litanies he hoped would be familiar, but he was all too familiar with how his particular nature could unnerve others.

He turned back to the thing that had fallen from the crate, noticing the security detail closing in but looking none too eager for a closer look. "Keep back from it! It may yet be dangerous. And summon the station medicae, this man is injured!" He only hoped that their shock and deference to Ministorum figures would delay any resistance or questions. He kept the autopistol loose in it's holster, yet wary of the creature. Keying his comm, he spoke to his colleagues "Jericus, Lena, there has been an incident with the day's catch in trade-dome number five; a creature was brought in and wrought panic and injury. It seems to have succumbed to concentrated las-fire but if you're available I wouldn't turn the company down." The last, spoken in forced mirth, to help settle his wired nerves; this had definitely set him on edge. He kept pressure on the youth's wounds as he spoke prayer over him. For now he'd hope the medica arrived quickly, and kept a watchful eye on the creature and the guards. He didn't want them tampering with it, and certainly didn't want it tampering with them.

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41



The youth is whimpering as Nuric pushes on his wounds to stem the tide of blood. It takes a moment for the Cleric to realize that part of the reason the lad seems to be in extra pain from the pressure isn’t just because of the partial evisceration; half-embedded in the meat of his abdomen are a pair of bony hooks, serrated on the inside of the curve. It appears that the creature had lost some of it’s proverbial teeth when it suddenly released the lad.

They are about four inches long, and curved sharply much like the talons of the Hraline Arrow-Hawks that hunt rodents that seek refuge and food among the Gannic crops.

The security detail don’t need to be told twice, regardless of whether or not they recognize the Cleric’s authority. Most of them are remaining far back, weapons trained upon the downed thing which has begun to leak it’s oily, viscous blood across the depot deck.




The door certainly isn’t locked, but Alaric is not prepared for what he see’s inside.

Kaetlyn is bent over a refresher station, the contents of her stomach splattered across the chrome surfaces; partially digested food, copious quantities of blood…and a thick, stringy black goo that has a similar texture to the industrial tar that his old home world used to use as a sealant for cracks in roads and other ferrocrete structures.

The smell is sweet, like overripe fruit that is bordering on rot.

Kaetlyn herself is doubled over, hands clutching her stomach and skin sallow and clammy.

When Alaric steps in, her head jerks towards him – almost bending at a strange angle – and she positively glares in his direction with blood-shot eyes.

”Get….OUT!” She spits, a dribble of blood and that black tar upon her chin.



The Meal

”Hastening your departure from Aporia is a wise choice. You don’t want to be here when trouble arrives.” He smiles a tight-lipped smile, and glances once towards the bathroom where both Kaetlyn and Alaric headed. ”As we all know….when mutation rears its ugly head, the Imperium does not let it go for too long. Especially on a world that is so important to the greater Imperium as a whole.”

The Rogue Trader rises slowly with a soft sigh, and runs his hands down his sides to straighten the overcoat hanging on his shoulders. ”Here and there. We have a few stops to make. We’re actually going to make a stop at Ubalto. I have a contract with the shipyards at Oberstyre to bring them a hold full of press-ganged workers. The local nobility of Ubalto has agreed to help me round up some of their Hive gangs. To help them become productive members of the Imperium.” Kasran chuckles softly, and shrugs. ”Alas, with the Crusade to take back Logofer VI underway, the only other profitable venture that I know of off the top of my head is to transport munitions or other supplies to the Crusade. I know they’re encountering some stiff resistance planetside. The heretics are….very entrenched.”

Captain Dire casts his gaze across the table, and sets a stack of Throne gelt onto the tabletop. ”Please excuse me. It has been a pleasure to meet you, but I have a few other stops to make here before I depart. May the Emperor’s Light guide you through the darkness ahead.” Kasran gives a stiff-backed bow, and turns to stalk out of the restaurant with a swift stride.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Qualia bows slightly as Kasran leaves, a small gesture of respect. While she envied his departure to the void again, bringing press ganged into line was no easy job, and she presumed his ship would have more than a few troubles in the coming months.

What troubled her most was the talk of mutation. Minor mutation happened far more often than the Imperium would like to admit, particularly amongst void sailors, but more gross scale mutation like that usually meant something else at play. After Kasran's departure, she turned to Ralix

"Those mutations sound worrying and terrifying in equal measure. If what Kasran has told us is true, I get the feeling our missing ship was taken, not lost"

[Bennosuke]

Alaric closes the door hastily, but calls out, “Mam, you don’t look well. I’m going to go get your husband!” He hurries back towards the restaurant hoping to find Captain Kasran and inform him of his wife.

Alaric is quiet aware of just how wrong the scene in the bathroom was, and wil make sure to spill the beans in front of his colleagues if he catches the Captain before he has left the dinner table.

[CrimsonKnight]

As the two more martially-trained Acolytes sit and hold their low-volume conversation via the micro-beads, they see a sudden flurry of activity. A cadre of station security, armed with las-pistols, stun batons and autoguns rush past the bar they’re in towards one of the Trade Depot hubs – the one that they know Brother Nuric had been wandering in not that long ago.

The rush of security personnel has some of the nearby bar patrons muttering among themselves, and Lena picks up someone speculating that perhaps they fished up more bodies, much like they did the week before.

Lena took a hard glance as the multiple station security personnel were running by before commenting to Jericus. "Looks like the local Enforcers have their hands busy. Must be something interesting going on in the trade domes."

It took her a few moments of idly listening to and mentally filing away the chatter about bodies for later before she abruptly realized she'd forgotten something quite important. "Feth! Isn't that where Nuric went?!

Nuric easily picked the young man up, a life of labour rendering the victim's weight a minor burden. Hauling him back out of range of the fallen creature's tentacles despite anguished protest, he set him down and tore strips off his robes to attempt to bind the young man's wounds. He was no medica and had no supplies on hand, but he'd do what he could. He tried to calm the youth by reciting Litanies he hoped would be familiar, but he was all too familiar with how his particular nature could unnerve others.

He turned back to the thing that had fallen from the crate, noticing the security detail closing in but looking none too eager for a closer look. "Keep back from it! It may yet be dangerous. And summon the station medicae, this man is injured!" He only hoped that their shock and deference to Ministorum figures would delay any resistance or questions. He kept the autopistol loose in it's holster, yet wary of the creature. Keying his comm, he spoke to his colleagues "Jericus, Lena, there has been an incident with the day's catch in trade-dome number five; a creature was brought in and wrought panic and injury. It seems to have succumbed to concentrated las-fire but if you're available I wouldn't turn the company down." The last, spoken in forced mirth, to help settle his wired nerves; this had definitely set him on edge. He kept pressure on the youth's wounds as he spoke prayer over him. For now he'd hope the medica arrived quickly, and kept a watchful eye on the creature and the guards. He didn't want them tampering with it, and certainly didn't want it tampering with them.

Lena was on her feet, swearing up a storm in broken Gothic, and running for the door before Nuric had finished his first sentence. She followed the distant sight of the distant security ahead of her while listening to Nuric on her micro-bead. "On my way, Brother. Be there in two ticks."

Upon entering dome five, she spotted the security forces gathered into a defensive formation with their weapons drawn around some massive sea creature with far too many tentacles. It was, however, dead, much to Lena's frustration after sprinting straight here. She spotted Nuric hovering over a badly injured dock worker and jogged over.

"How bad is it, Brother? And just how the hell did you pick a fight with a sea monster on a orbital station?"

[Lycan 01]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41

The Meal

”Hastening your departure from Aporia is a wise choice. You don’t want to be here when trouble arrives.” He smiles a tight-lipped smile, and glances once towards the bathroom where both Kaetlyn and Alaric headed. ”As we all know….when mutation rears its ugly head, the Imperium does not let it go for too long. Especially on a world that is so important to the greater Imperium as a whole.”

The Rogue Trader rises slowly with a soft sigh, and runs his hands down his sides to straighten the overcoat hanging on his shoulders. ”Here and there. We have a few stops to make. We’re actually going to make a stop at Ubalto. I have a contract with the shipyards at Oberstyre to bring them a hold full of press-ganged workers. The local nobility of Ubalto has agreed to help me round up some of their Hive gangs. To help them become productive members of the Imperium.” Kasran chuckles softly, and shrugs. ”Alas, with the Crusade to take back Logofer VI underway, the only other profitable venture that I know of off the top of my head is to transport munitions or other supplies to the Crusade. I know they’re encountering some stiff resistance planetside. The heretics are….very entrenched.”

Captain Dire casts his gaze across the table, and sets a stack of Throne gelt onto the tabletop. ”Please excuse me. It has been a pleasure to meet you, but I have a few other stops to make here before I depart. May the Emperor’s Light guide you through the darkness ahead.” Kasran gives a stiff-backed bow, and turns to stalk out of the restaurant with a swift stride.

Ralix Zamir
3.334.982.M41
The Meal

Ralix gives a small sigh, and follows Kasran's glance towards where the bathrooms would be. "Yes," he says with a small frown, tone sympathetic, "The Imperium tends to treat even the rumors of mutation or heresy with a heavy-handed response, and should the situation not be contained soon... well..." His expression darkens, and he shakes his head. "Best not to think about such things."

When the Captain shares his plans for visiting Ubalto, though, Ralix's expression changes. He leans forward in his seat slightly, now wearing a grin from ear to ear. "Oh, is that true? Small universe, as they say. Word of advice? Be wary which Houses assist you with rounding up the gangers. House Xanath will likely point you too far down the hive spires, where you'll find more mutants than criminals. House Vinak has alleged ties to some of the gangs in its spire, and will likely protect their favored pawns while letting you harvest their rivals. House Korvus... mmm, they enjoy a good hunt, mayhaps you should keep them in mind," he muses with a coy smirk, before leaning back in his seat and giving an idle wave of his hand. "My own House is more involved with the PDF and Astra Militarum, and has little time nor care for the affairs of the Underhive. A waste of your time, really, at least for this venture..." he idly observes.

When Kasran rises to leave and bows, Ralix rises from his own chair, and mirrors the bow out of courtesy. "Ah, the pleasure has been mine, good sir. And likewise, may the Emperor guide and protect you and your darling Kaetlyn in the journeys. I do hope we meet again," he smiles warmly, before flashing the sign of the Aquila and letting the Rogue Trader take his exit.

As soon as their honored guest is gone...

Ralix flops unceremoniously into his seat, and lets out a deep, ragged sigh. "Oh Holy Emperor," he grits his teeth, looking quite displeased. "That man is dangerous." With a quick motion, he keys the micro-bead in his ear, and pages Alaric. "Alaric! Return to us now. Avoid Kaetlyn, I repeat, avoid Kaetyln!" he hisses, before killing the feed.

He then glances at Qualia with a scowl. "The situation on this planet is much graver than expected. We need to hasten to the Governor, and also make contact with the Adeptus Mechanicus. But first, we must find Alaric now." Ralix rises back from his seat, and takes a few steps towards the door, gesturing for Qualia to follow him away from the table, and out of Captain Hathaway's eavesdropping. He then leans in close with a grim expression, and whispers to her in a hushed, urgent tone. "Did you... sense or notice anything about Kaetlyn or Kasran? If I'm not mistaken, the good Captain's companion is a survivor of the Exterminatus-purged world of Haitros. She is likely a Psyker, judging from her glaring at Nuric, and even if she isn't, she is still hightly dangerous - and possibly a suspect of Inquisitorial interest. But she's under the employment and protection of a Rogue Trader, which puts her beyond our jurisdiction... and if they suspect we're from the Inquisition, they could potentially make our time on this planet much more difficult for us," he grimaces.

[Sarak]

"On my way, Brother. Be there in two ticks."

Upon entering dome five, she spotted the security forces gathered into a defensive formation with their weapons drawn around some massive sea creature with far too many tentacles. It was, however, dead, much to Lena's frustration after sprinting straight here. She spotted Nuric hovering over a badly injured dock worker and jogged over.

"How bad is it, Brother? And just how the hell did you pick a fight with a sea monster on a orbital station?"

"Understood, and thanks." He doubted the comm channel did much to cover up his relief at hearing his companion's voice in response. Noticing the youth's discomfort and subsequently the embedded teeth, Brother Nuric adjusted his makeshift bandages to relieve the pressure and expose them for closer inspection. He spoke another prayer over the youth (wishing his hands were free to form the Aquila) as the man's eyes began to flutter; likely shock was taking hold, and he hoped assistance was en route.

He did well to stay steady on the bleeding man in front of him as Lena appeared beside him; even at a jog the woman was stealthy. "Unfortunately the young man lying before us drew it's ire, though I was near enough to witness and attempt to intervene. The creature was inside one of the shipping containers, secreted within and concealed by the bulk of the crustaceans. It managed to free itself and nearly dragged this man in with it before the security detail brought it down." Looking over at the creature bleeding on the deck, he nodded his head in the direction of the security guard he hoped held rank and addressed him. "Best have a few servitors lay matting down to prevent that from spreading, son. There could be threat of contamination. I'd also recommend you have servitors reseal that container for the time being, and halt transfer until you can be sure that there are no more 'surprises' waiting inside them. Is this the first time something like this has happened here? Do you know what that creature was?" Hopefully the shaken state of the young guard might lead to an open answer. Quieter, to Lena, he mentioned "For that matter, does that look at all recognizeable to you?"

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

"I didn't specifically sense anything from either of them, if either are Psykers they are hiding it well. There is something, though, in the background of the immaterium, something small, but trying to influence this world."

She pointed towards the exit door that Alairc had headed into

"That door leads towards the latrines, and beyond through to an emergency exit. We should hurry, it seems strange that Kasran would leave without his associate."

[ArendK]

Common Knowledge (War): The Black Wolfshead heraldry has occurred several times throughout the last several decades. Originally called the Wolves of Durrax, they were the 35th Penal Legion from the penal colony of Durrax. They were vicious and incredibly proficient killers. At some point, the 35th Penal Legion disappeared during massive engagement against an Ork Waaagh!. They reappeared several years later as hired guns, having sold their Penal Legion’s services to the Dire Dynasty of Rogue Traders (which, if unbelievable rumours were to be believed, was able to procure an official pardon from the Astra Militarum for the Legion). They now serve as the personal army of Captain Kasran Dire. They are still brutal, proficient killers and stories of their ruthlessness spread far and wide.

Jericus gave an outline of the Black Wolves to Lena.

"I'd heard of them; a private army built from a unit in a penal colony. More killers than soldiers, I'd heard that they were working for a Rogue Trader Dynasty. I guess Captain Hathaways friend seems to be the one holding the contract to their services." Jericus summarized. "Deadly killers, and well armed; but not structured like the Guard or Navy, but just as dangerous nonetheless." Jericus smirked. "You'd like them."




As the two more martially-trained Acolytes sit and hold their low-volume conversation via the micro-beads, they see a sudden flurry of activity. A cadre of station security, armed with las-pistols, stun batons and autoguns rush past the bar they’re in towards one of the Trade Depot hubs – the one that they know Brother Nuric had been wandering in not that long ago.

The rush of security personnel has some of the nearby bar patrons muttering among themselves, and Lena picks up someone speculating that perhaps they fished up more bodies, much like they did the week before.

Lena took a hard glance as the multiple station security personnel were running by before commenting to Jericus. "Looks like the local Enforcers have their hands busy. Must be something interesting going on in the trade domes."

It took her a few moments of idly listening to and mentally filing away the chatter about bodies for later before she abruptly realized she'd forgotten something quite important. "Feth! Isn't that where Nuric went?!

Nuric easily picked the young man up, a life of labour rendering the victim's weight a minor burden. Hauling him back out of range of the fallen creature's tentacles despite anguished protest, he set him down and tore strips off his robes to attempt to bind the young man's wounds. He was no medica and had no supplies on hand, but he'd do what he could. He tried to calm the youth by reciting Litanies he hoped would be familiar, but he was all too familiar with how his particular nature could unnerve others.

He turned back to the thing that had fallen from the crate, noticing the security detail closing in but looking none too eager for a closer look. "Keep back from it! It may yet be dangerous. And summon the station medicae, this man is injured!" He only hoped that their shock and deference to Ministorum figures would delay any resistance or questions. He kept the autopistol loose in it's holster, yet wary of the creature. Keying his comm, he spoke to his colleagues "Jericus, Lena, there has been an incident with the day's catch in trade-dome number five; a creature was brought in and wrought panic and injury. It seems to have succumbed to concentrated las-fire but if you're available I wouldn't turn the company down." The last, spoken in forced mirth, to help settle his wired nerves; this had definitely set him on edge. He kept pressure on the youth's wounds as he spoke prayer over him. For now he'd hope the medica arrived quickly, and kept a watchful eye on the creature and the guards. He didn't want them tampering with it, and certainly didn't want it tampering with them.

Lena was on her feet, swearing up a storm in broken Gothic, and running for the door before Nuric had finished his first sentence. She followed the distant sight of the distant security ahead of her while listening to Nuric on her micro-bead. "On my way, Brother. Be there in two ticks."

Upon entering dome five, she spotted the security forces gathered into a defensive formation with their weapons drawn around some massive sea creature with far too many tentacles. It was, however, dead, much to Lena's frustration after sprinting straight here. She spotted Nuric hovering over a badly injured dock worker and jogged over.

"How bad is it, Brother? And just how the hell did you pick a fight with a sea monster on a orbital station?"

"Most things have this uncanny ability to succumb to a barrage of las-fire Nuric; lay low and stay safe. Boots and elbows, we're on our way."

Jericus rolled out behind Lena; he knew he'd lose a step on her, but he did his best to keep pace. Anyone with half a brain would notice Jericus and Lena following the commotion and note that as odd; he quickly started crafting a cover story to explain their slightly odd behavior if needed; "this is where Alaric and Ralix are REALLY USEFUL TO HAVE AROUND!!!" Jericus thought as he sprinted. The chaos in the dome surprised Jericus. He held back to avoid approaching Nuric in the with the wounded guard. Turning his micro-bead on, he muttered "I'm here, hanging back in the onlooking crowd to avoid tipping our hand and presence as a group." He quickly checked that the las-pistol was still in his jacket, ready to go if needed. He suspected that the trouble was over, but no reason to take a chance unnecessarily.

He took a moment to hit his bead again. "Those of you enjoying a nice dinner can carry on. The worst of it is already over; looks like one of the future meals here didn't like the idea of being ate by us puny humans much. Call us if you need us." Staying back in the group of on-lookers, Jericus made a point to try to ear-hustle any mroe useful information about the situation from the guards and onlookers.

[roll0] Awareness check vs 27

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir
3.334.982.M41
The Meal


Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

"I didn't specifically sense anything from either of them, if either are Psykers they are hiding it well. There is something, though, in the background of the immaterium, something small, but trying to influence this world."

She pointed towards the exit door that Alairc had headed into

"That door leads towards the latrines, and beyond through to an emergency exit. We should hurry, it seems strange that Kasran would leave without his associate."

Ralix grimaces. "I'm not sure if I should be relieved or more concerned by you sensing nothing from them. That other information is quite troubling though. Throne damn it..." he grumbles, before nodding in the direction she pointed out. "Yes, lead the way, would you kindly?" he nods, before turning back to Captain Hathaway and grinning sheepishly. "Please excuse us, we must find our comrades and plan our next course of action. We'll contact you via comm-link shortly," he says, before gesturing with a hand for Qualia to take point.



He took a moment to hit his bead again. "Those of you enjoying a nice dinner can carry on. The worst of it is already over; looks like one of the future meals here didn't like the idea of being ate by us puny humans much. Call us if you need us." Staying back in the group of on-lookers, Jericus made a point to try to ear-hustle any mroe useful information about the situation from the guards and onlookers.

Ralix pauses mid-stride, before raising his hand to key his micro-bead and return a message to Jericus, keeping his voice low. "We're coming to regroup. Avoid direct contact with the creature - the mutation situation on this world may be spreading much worse than we were originally told, and if the sealife is tainted as well, best not to be exposed. Also, avoid Kasran and his associate Kaetlyn, at all costs - especially her. I'll explain that one later. And if you see Alaric, please keep him on a short leash..." he grumbles.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Giving a quick nod, Qualia leads on, making her way through the restaurant as quickly as possible without raising suspicion from other patrons. Reaching the doors, she pushed through, quickly calling out as she entered

"Lady Kaetlyn? Mr Varn? It's time to leave."

Her hand drifted down towards her laspistol, holstered on a belt and tucked into a small fold in her robes.

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41



THE RESTAURANT

Ralix, Qualia and Alaric

As Ralix and Qualia discussed the worsening situation on the planet below, the realization grew that this seemed like no simple natural spread of mutation that some planets within the Imperium experience through the genetic lottery. No the speed in which the mutation seems to have spread, and how quickly it was impacting the infrastructure of Aporia reeked of something more systemic.

When they received the comm from Jericus to fill them in on the newest development down in the trade-depots, they were already part of the way towards the back hallway. Just as Qualia went to push the door open and called out for Kaetlyn and Alaric, the young scum was alreadying hurrying towards them down the hall.

They could hear the sounds of retching from within the women's bathroom increase in violence, and something in Alaric's eyes indicated there was something very wrong, indeed.

It took but a moment to fill his comrades in on what he saw in the restroom with Kaetlyn. He seemed adamant to catch Kasran and let him know as well, but the Rogue Trader had disappeared out of the restaurant with significant speed.

Suddenly, there was a blood-curdling howl of pain from within the bathroom and the sound of a mirror shattering.





TRADE-DEPOT

Nuric, Lena, Jericus

When Lena and Jericus slid quietly into the trade-depot, the scene was one of slowly cooling tension.

The large metal shipping crate that brough the tentacled thing onto the void-station lay open, filled with briny sea-water thoroughly mixed with oily black blood and the carcasses of several tons worth of edible seacreatures. The edges of the shipping crate were scarred and scuffed from the hook-like barbs coating the underside of its tentacles.

The beast itself was relatively large; as long as two men were tall, with a half-dozen tentacles of thick, corded muscle and a milky white pallor to an underbelly covered in various sizes of lamprey-like mouths. Its overall shape was like a tear-drop, with the thinner end splaying into the beasts tentacles. Near the fleshy wide end, several long and membranous fins spread out like the petals on some grotesque flower.

It bore dozens of blackened patches across its body, each still smoking as the concentrated las-fire seared the flesh. Pools of blood were growing around it from several severe wounds, and the puddle of briny water that it spilled during its escape had spread farther - even so far as to come to the feet of Nuric as he held the critically injured young man.

The young dock worker's abdomen was torn and messy and he was losing blood. If the station medicae did not get to him soon then he would join the uncounted, forgotten dead of the Imperium. From the look of the area - security personel too busy bringing order to the panicked crowd or securing the body of the strange thing dead upon the deck.



The young man is bleeding out, and if Lena wants to use a Rite of Passage on him, it would be appropriate. He's got several deep lacerations from the barbs ranging mostly around his midriff and his hips. Nothing vital hit. Just lots of blood losss.

No one else is paying attention to the dying young man aside from you kind souls.

Even his own fellow worker and servitor have head for the hills.



Jericus caught a glimpse of two security officers who were standing near the dead creature glancing in their direction and from the body language, he realized they were trying to decide if they were going to come over and assess the situation.

Laying in Nuric's arms the young man was breathing labouriously, and while one hand was pressed against some of his wounds, the other was clutched tightly at the collar of the Cleric's robe.

It took Lena only a moment to assess the man's injuries. She had minutes to save the man - far too little time for the Medicae to arrive. The water spilled from the container had washed over their feet, but now they saw a spreading black stain as the creatures blood seeped through the large puddle.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

"His light, his word, his purity"

Muttered under her breath, Qualia clutched her focus in her left hand, it's familiar ridges and edges grounding her. Her right drew her pistol, aiming up at the door to the restroom, the warmth of the grip providing it's own calming effect. Eventually, her left joined the right on the pistol.

"One of you, clear the restaurant, get reinforcements, and medical if you can, then get back here. The other, stay here and get ready. I think we just found one of those mutants, and we cannot allow it to leave the premises."

[Bennosuke]

Responding to Qualia, Alaric pulls his pistol from its holster and turns to Ralix, “Sounds like a job for you buddy.” He aims the pistol at the bathroom door and readies himself to fire at whatever bursts through. “Oh, and if you see Captain Kasran, tell him we’re sorry.”

[Sarak]

Spotting the approaching viscous pool, Nuric awkwardly stripped the rest of his robes off and spread them at his feet, desperate to slow the advance of the creature's blood. He looked back to the man and his failing constitution. The blood loss looked severe to his untrained eyes. His gaze rose to meet that of his companions, speaking softly. "If you've anything to stop the bleeding, friends, now is the time; I dread seeing his wound make contact with that blood, but I fear he won't fare well through an attempt to move him with that bleeding unchecked." Brother Nuric returned his eyes to the young man's pained visage. "Be strong and take comfort, for The Emperor Protects and His gaze is upon you. Feel His Light and know that He watches over you, here and beyond."

[CrimsonKnight]

TRADE-DEPOT

Nuric, Lena, Jericus

When Lena and Jericus slid quietly into the trade-depot, the scene was one of slowly cooling tension.

The large metal shipping crate that brough the tentacled thing onto the void-station lay open, filled with briny sea-water thoroughly mixed with oily black blood and the carcasses of several tons worth of edible seacreatures. The edges of the shipping crate were scarred and scuffed from the hook-like barbs coating the underside of its tentacles.

The beast itself was relatively large; as long as two men were tall, with a half-dozen tentacles of thick, corded muscle and a milky white pallor to an underbelly covered in various sizes of lamprey-like mouths. Its overall shape was like a tear-drop, with the thinner end splaying into the beasts tentacles. Near the fleshy wide end, several long and membranous fins spread out like the petals on some grotesque flower.

It bore dozens of blackened patches across its body, each still smoking as the concentrated las-fire seared the flesh. Pools of blood were growing around it from several severe wounds, and the puddle of briny water that it spilled during its escape had spread farther - even so far as to come to the feet of Nuric as he held the critically injured young man.

The young dock worker's abdomen was torn and messy and he was losing blood. If the station medicae did not get to him soon then he would join the uncounted, forgotten dead of the Imperium. From the look of the area - security personel too busy bringing order to the panicked crowd or securing the body of the strange thing dead upon the deck.



The young man is bleeding out, and if Lena wants to use a Rite of Passage on him, it would be appropriate. He's got several deep lacerations from the barbs ranging mostly around his midriff and his hips. Nothing vital hit. Just lots of blood losss.

No one else is paying attention to the dying young man aside from you kind souls.

Even his own fellow worker and servitor have head for the hills.



Jericus caught a glimpse of two security officers who were standing near the dead creature glancing in their direction and from the body language, he realized they were trying to decide if they were going to come over and assess the situation.

Laying in Nuric's arms the young man was breathing labouriously, and while one hand was pressed against some of his wounds, the other was clutched tightly at the collar of the Cleric's robe.

It took Lena only a moment to assess the man's injuries. She had minutes to save the man - far too little time for the Medicae to arrive. The water spilled from the container had washed over their feet, but now they saw a spreading black stain as the creatures blood seeped through the large puddle.

Lena sighed as she looked over the man's wounds, but when she saw the vile-looking puddle creeping closer from the dead beast, her eyes narrowed and she began looking around the nearby area. Spotting an abandoned metalworker's stand nearby with its fire still roaring away, she made a decision. Drawing three of her knives, she shoved the end of the blades into the fire before turning to Ruric. "This man won't live long enough for a chiurgeon to save him. I may know a way to stabilize him enough to move him. A technique from my tribe. Not a safe technique, but I see no alternative. And if it fails, well... I can at least grant the man the Emperor's Mercy and spare him from that monster's taint".

She waited until the knife blades was glowing red before gingerly grabbing the handle of one while drawing another knife from its sheath in her free hand. "Get over here Jericus, I need both of you to hold him down. This will be extremely painful."

Once the man was secured, she murmered a few words in her tribe's dialect before prying the unheated blade under one of the barbs stuck in the man's flesh and plucking it free with a practiced flick of the wrist. Before the now unobstructed laceration had a chance to begin spurting freely, she pressed the hot metal down onto the area with an unpleasant searing noise and even worst smell. Lena did not wait to see if the first wound had stopped bleeding before dropping the knife and grabbing another from the fire, repeating the process twice more while continuing to chant in her mother tongue words that, from the tone and repetition, were some kind of prayer. At last, she leaned back panting heavily with sweat running down her face from the heat and stress.

Please Blazing Lord, please tell me I have not just made this man's final moments in life more painful than it needed to be. With a shaking hand, she drew the last of her knives and checked to see if the bleeding had stopped... or if she would need to use it.

Full Action: Rite of Passage ability
Intelligence Test TN 39 [roll0]

[CrimsonKnight]

Fate Reroll
[roll0]

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41

THE RESTAURANT

Qualia felt coils of wrongness emanating from beyond the bathroom door the moment her hand touched her focus. It wasn’t the true taint of the Warp, or even really the presence of psychic power: more precisely it was something simply unnatural in the Eyes of the Emperor of Mankind.

The howling from beyond the bathroom door suddenly cut out, and all sound seemed to cease from within though there was a tell-tale drip that Alaric thought he heard from within. Something wet dripping upon the tiled floors.





THE TRADE DEPOT

The young man moaned and twitched as Lena worked her feral-world rites upon his ravaged body, the smell of cooking flesh rising from each wound as she tried to sear them closed. Some of them weren’t cauterizing like they should.

Jericus and Nuric held the young man down as firmly as they could, though his pain was making him delirious, and less coherent.


[roll0] 10% chance of bleeding out….

EDIT: That was really close.
Lena can make another attempt at her rite if you want. To speed things along, feel free to make four rounds worth of tests at once. If she can't stabilize him by then, the lad will have bled out....

[ArendK]

"Nice to know we have a mutie problem!" Jericus grumbled to himself in the bead. "I thought Alaric was with you Ralix!"

Jericus weighed his options. Sitting there doing nothing wasn't going to help with whatever trouble the others found, nor did he know exactly how long it would take him to get back to the restaurant. While his personal medical training was minimal ("is it bleeding? bandage it" was about as far as it got), he did have an idea. With a free hand he retrieved his las-pistol, pointing it at the gigantic corpse and let loose a few rounds after he got a clear lane; that should get everyones attention.

He barked at some of the standing guard and onlookers, "THERE'S A MEDICAE KIT AROUND HERE, FIND IT!" He'd hoped his association with the cleric Nuric would give him the illusion of being important to the security forces.

Jericus helped Nuric pin the man down, driving his knees into the mans uninjured quads to keep him immobile; he remembered something one of his units medics once told him "Pain is the Patients Problem." It wouldn't be comfortable, but he wasn't going anywhere since Jericus could still use his arms to restrain as needed. While Lena was heating up the knives, Jericus continued barking at the onlookers and guards, pointing directly to small groups of them with his empty hand to try to direct traffic.

"There's got to be a hose around here; use the water to try to push the black stuff back!"
"You three, find a medicae, chiurgeon, tech-priest, or anything of the like." A few more rounds are fired into the creature more for emphasis on his statements and directions.
"You four, start moving crates to keep the water from getting to us. Build a blockade between us and it."
"You three, find a flat pallet big enough to help move this guy that we set him on."

Jericus finished his directions, put his weapon on safe, but didn't put it away. Something in his gut told him there was going to be a need for it, and he hoped he was wrong.

He pressed his weight hard onto the man to keep him still while Lena did her ritual with the hot knives. It was an unpleasant event to say the least, but hopefully she knew what she was doing. Jericus wasn't sure he had the guts to ask if she had any idea what she was doing while she was in close proximity with her knives.

Let me know if I need to make any rolls for anything.

[CrimsonKnight]

Okay dice, I used my one Fate Point for this. Be nice.
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
Edit: Aw yissss. Success post coming.

After a moment, Lena smiled behind her scarf. The bleeding had, if not stopped, at least was slowed considerably. She swiftly placed her knives back into the fire to reheat them before repeating the process twice more on the wounds that had not been closed. At last, there was no sign of any further blood creeping past the heat-sealed flesh, and she gave the man a reassuring pat on the head. "The pain is extreme I'm sure, but embrace it friend. It means you're still alive. Let's find a board to move him on, I don't think the Brother's sacrificed robe will hold that filth away for long."

Lena stood, and began scrounging around again for something suitable to move the injured guard away from the tainted blood puddle.

[Bennosuke]

Alaric keeps his gun pointed at the door and nods to Qualia, “Go ahead and open it. I’m ready”

As Ralix departs Alaric grins and says, “Maybe we should hope he doesn’t run into Kasran. Something tells me he won’t be too happy, and Ralix isn’t exactly an Astartes if you know what I mean.”

Just in case it helps, I will roll an Awareness check at Perception 30 [roll0]

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir
APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41

Ralix shakes his head, grimacing and looking quite distraught. "W-wait! She's... something's not right!" he hisses through grit teeth, keeping his voice low and hushed. "It's... I think she's likely not a victim of the mutation afflicting this world, but rather the results of what claimed her own homeworld years ago - which is why most of the scattered survivors from Haitros are wanted for Inquisitorial questioning! And if she is a victim of what's happening on Aporia, we need an idea of what caused it and how it's effecting her! Either way, we need her alive! Especially since Captain Dire will almost certainly impede or sabotage our investigation if he thinks we tried to harm his wife, lover, trophy, or whatever she is," he scowls in disgust. A Rogue Trader hiding and protecting an Inquisitional suspect is serious business - but something well beyond their current authority or ability to handle.

Taking a step back, takes a deep breath, and then looks at Qualia and Alaric with a look of (barely upheld) determination. "L-let me take point, and see what we're dealing with. If she's still coherent, I can try to calm her down... maybe determine what we're dealing with, and how best to handle her. At the very least, we can tell Captain Dire we tried to reason with her if it gets beyond our control and we do what must be done," he grimaces. He unfastens his jacket, letting it hang open and loose in case he needs to move more quickly and without restraint... and in case he needs to reach for his weapon without obstruction.

He looks back and forth between Qualia and Alaric, awaiting their response...

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41

THE RESTAURANT

The discussion between the Acolytes in the hallway of the bathroom continued as Ralix outlined his suspicions as to the nature of whatever ills were befalling the young Kaetlyn. Beyond the door, it remained relatively silent aside from that tell-tale dripping sound.

A stillness has fallen on the hallway.


It’s barely heard, and mostly indiscernable in context, but there is a soft whispering from within the bathroom. It’s heavily muffled, and Alaric just catches the sound in between drips of whatever black tarry substance is within.


A few moments later, an older woman in a high-necked gown with a coifed hairdo covered in perfume walked into the hallway with a scowl on her long face as she witnesses everyone crowding around the door.

”Out of my way!” She barks. ”You’re blocking the hall.”


If you're planning on going in, head on it. Or leave Kaetlyn in the bathroom and pretend you didn't see anything. :smallwink: These are not the mutants you are looking for.






THE TRADE DEPOT

The trio of station security that had been eyeing the Acolytes and the ministrations for the injured young depot worker seemed startled by Jericus barking orders at them, though the ex-guardsman’s assessment that his association with Nuric would lend him some credibility seemed correct.

They immediately shuffled over to the Acolytes, and began to work at pushing and pulling the few smaller crates that lay around into a makeshift wall to stop the spread of the black, viscous liquid. It wouldn’t last long, but it was the best they could do at the time. The trade depot wasn’t equipped to handle a situation such as this.

The young man’s delirium seemed to fade for a moment as the searing hot metal pressed into his wounds even further, and at its crescendo, the youth passed into unconsciousness. Lena had worked furiously to save his life, and though he would bear the scars of this event for the rest of his life, he would indeed get to live it.

It was around this time that the station’s Medicae finally arrived to take over. Three men and a woman arrived with a stretcher and medical gear. As they immediately dropped down to crouch near the injured man, one of them glanced to the Acolytes with an impressed look in his eyes.

”That was some quick thinking! The Emperor must have been watching over the lad to have you on hand. You have my thanks. Made our jobs substantially easier.” The Medicae began loading the lad onto the stretcher, and just as quickly as they arrived, they were hustling out of the trade depot and further into the station.

Once the injured youth was gone, one of the security personnel turned finally to the Acolytes.

”And whom, exactly, might you be? Visitors to the station? You were certainly in the right place and the right time.”

While the security guard spoke, several large labour servitors had arrived and began carving up the strange, tentacle thing with massive chain-fists and depositing the bloody chunks into a garbage crate they dragged along with them.

[ArendK]

Jericus sat back in relief once the medicae had arrived. Lena's skill at burning the wounds shut was invaluable. Apparently low-tech methods work just as well as those granted by the Machine God sometimes. He was relieved that everyone had tried to help; it bought invaluable time to save the young mans life. As security approached them with their questions, he remembered who he was with and was direly missing Ralix's ability to fast-talk and charm with ease. He ran a hand over his face and through his hair under the guise of wiping sweat away, discretely keying his bead in case Ralix and the others needed to know the cover story.

"Agreed, right time and right place for this young man. Our apologies for discharging our weapons, we weren't trying to infringe on your jurisdiction." Jericus said as he slowly put his pistol back in his jacket so the guards would see it was no longer a threat. "We're part of the entourage for a scholar from Ubalto who works for the Administratum who has come to do look into something with the records here. He's off at a dinner party with limited seating." Jericus said as he took a long breath. He reached for his pack of LHO sticks, offering them to the guards and his fellow Acolytes before pulling one for himself.

"We drew the short straws and got excluded, so we were taking some time to explore the station when the good Brother happened upon the situation with this big ugly brute. Emperors blessing in disguise though for this young man. Though any of you guys got a light? I seem to have dropped mine." Jericus makes a point to look at the beast being carved up. "You boys did a good job bringing that thing down from the looks of it. Nice, accurate las-fire with no collateral damage and only 1 injured person. You gentlemen should be commended. Can I get your names and superiors name so I can submit a commendation?"

Jericus isn't technically lying about any of this, but the bead alerts Ralix and the others (not like they don't have enough to think about at the moment, but Jericus, Nuric, and Lena don't know that) that we are having to create a story. Jericus will leave the bead on for the duration of the conversation.

[Bennosuke]

Gritting his teeth, Alaric says, "There's whispering in there. When I went in before she was alone." He lets the weight of that set in for a second and then turns to the elderly Noble.


”Out of my way!” She barks. ”You’re blocking the hall.”

Mustering the most deafening, vicious, under-hive voice he can, Alaric responds "And there's a situation in there that will rip your Kriffing head off! Now go get the restaurant manager and security, and call the Kriffing local PDF!" (OOC: I assume PDF would be the appropriate police authority to call?)

Turning back to Ralix, Alaric says, "We all go in. If you want to try to reason with the mutant, we'll cover you. But why don't you draw your weapon just in case... and try to stay out of my line of sight this time." There is no levity biker's voice now, only the hard certainty of the leader of the Metal Eagles. This was likely a combat situation and he didn't want to risk any early casualties. Alaric nods to Qualia, whose hand is on the doorknob, urging the Imperial Psyker to lead them in.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Grasping the handle, Qualia looks back towards Alairc and Ralix, the adrenaline already beginning to flood her system. She took a quick breath, then nodded 3 time, a brief pause between each, before opening the door outwards, taking cover behind the panel as she aimed her pistol into the restroom

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir
APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41

Ralix glances back and forth between Alaric and the disgruntled noblewoman, before sighing and telling the woman in perfect High Gothic: "<Please excuse my bodyguard, these rumors of mutants has triggered his paranoia. A friend of ours is violently ill in there, and from the sound of it is making quite a mess. You'd best find a different lavatory unless you want to ruin your lovely attire...>" he grimaces with a look of disgust, before turning and frowning at the door. "Alright... Here we go," he mutters, trying not to shake as fear threatens his mind.

She could be a mutant. Or a psyker. Or the problem here has aggravated whatever she already had in her body. Twice tainted by the Warp, she could be something monstrous. Or this could be the result of her own Witchcraft. Emperor forbid that she's a Sanctioned Psyker working for Captain Dire...

With a small sigh, he nods to Qualia. When she opens the door, he cautiously steps up to it, glancing on either side of the doorframe for potential ambush before stepping through. He quickly glances around the room, expecting a mess but looking for anything overtly dangerous, like a noblewoman with a drawn weapon, or a writhing mass of tentacles and teeth...


Charm to make the old lady calm down and not immediately flip out on us, and then Awareness to avoid ambush or spot things he might find to be of "scholarly interest." :smallwink:

Also, he used High Gothic to drive home the point to the lady that he's not riff-raff and to make her second-guess starting a scene with him and his entourage. Dunno if it grants any actual benefit, but it still seemed a wise choice with somebody like her.

Charm: [roll0] vs 60 (Fel 40, +10 Etiquette because she seems like upper class, and +10 Peer Nobility since she clearly thinks she's the queen of this Emprah-damned space station. :smallbiggrin:)
Awareness: [roll1] vs 17

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41

THE RESTAURANT

Impotent rage boils on the face of the older noblewoman – likely the spouse of one of the void-stations high administrators – and she sputters indignantly to the reprimands given to her by the three Acolytes.

”Wretch, do you know who I am?” She scoffs, before turning on her heel and stalking back the way she came. Halfway out of the hallway, the woman turns a dark scowl back to Ralix. ”We shall see what station security have to say about you ruffians!” Then, she is gone once more into the interior of the restaurant.

When the distraction had passed, Qualia made her count and thrust the door open to reveal the interior of the bathroom.

The scene that lay before the Acolytes was one of grotesque horror; a mockery of birth and motherhood.

The young lady Kaetlyn was slumped into the corner of the room, and the stench of sickly sweet rot filled the air with a near-tangible cloud. Thick, ropey strands of black tar-like goo were splattered upon the floors, the walls, the mirrors and the sinks. Globules dangled precariously from some of the mess, before dropping and striking the floor with a heavy plop. Amidst the vile black substance, was strewn the wine-red of fresh blood.

Kaetlyn was rocking slowly as she was pressed up into the corner of the bathroom, a bundle of cloth – torn from her grey dress – swaddled in her arms. Her lips were black, and thin spidery lines seemed to spread from them. Some of the veins in her face, and bared arms were black and visibly pulsing. Her blackened lips were moving fast as she softly whispered something incomprehensible to the blood and ichor-soaked bundle in her arms.

When the door had fully opened, it took but a moment to realize there were visitors, and Kaetlyn looked up towards the Acolytes. Her skin was sallow and clammy and her hair clung in damp threads to her forehead. The young lady’s eyes were bloodshot and Ralix could see a sheen of inky darkness spreading along the sclera of her eyes.

Her dress was covered in the black bile and fresh blood dribbled from her lips.





THE TRADE DEPOT

One of the security guards takes a Lho-stick from Jericus, and even brings out his own lighter to help the two spark up.

”Fething luck, friend. Your boss picked a nasty time to come to Aporia.” He shook his head wistfully, while taking a long drag on the lho-stick.

”Names Cavan. That’s Roen and the big lug is Nathan.” He gestures to the other two guards with him idly and grins. ”Superior is Hislop. He’s….around somewhere. Probably oogling some administratum secretary in the offices upstairs.”

[ArendK]

"Story of my life with the bad luck." Jericus said as he took a long drag on the stick. "As long as the secretary doesn't look or smell like our friend here..." Jericus gestures to the tentacle beast "I wouldn't begrudge him too much for that. Another gun would have been handy, but if it hadn't been for you boys, we'd probably be short 1 less holy man of the cloth in the Imperium. I'll talk to Hislop and get stuff straightened out here in a bit."

Jericus turns and gives a half smile to Lenaand Nuric; hopefully the usual aura that Brother Nuric gave off wouldn't make the security forces unpleasant. And he hoped that maybe Lena would see that being social and able to kill weren't mutually exclusive. She'd come out of her shell a bit recently, and it was good to see. Jericus still had no desire to be on the other side of her blades from her.

"My bad, terrible manners. I'm Jericus. You mentioned bad luck with the boss man deciding to come here at a bad time; I'm guessing not just referring to creepy fish tentacle monster trying to kill random people on the void station? So much for a chill-job. Anything else we should be worried about trying to kill us or our boss?"

[Bennosuke]

Alaric spits, and still gritting his teeth, he says loudly enough for Lady Kaetlyn , "So, is this the part where we 'Know the Mutant; Kill the Mutant?'" The question is directed at no one in particular, allowing his party members to respond, or Kaetlyn to begin explaining things IMMEDIATELY. And he trains the muzzle of his gun on the abomination in front of him.

Alaric may have been raised on a Forge World, but he knew enough of the Imperial Cult and the Inquisition to know his responsibility was likely to end this as fast as possible and not ask questions.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

As the abomination sat before the party, Qualia covered her mouth slightly, keeping her pistol firmly trained on whatever was on Katelyn's body.

"The second part depends on the first part. Explain. Now."

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir
APORIAN MUTANT MATERNITY WARD TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41

Hopefully the old hag returns with security quite soon...

Ralix manages to keep his lunch down, thankful that he'd chosen to eat light. He scowls in disgust as he looks around the room, taking in the horrific scene. He then shakes his head, and slowly steps closer. He eyes Kaetlyn with a mixture of revulsion and pity.

"Captain Dire left abruptly," the scholar idly observes after a moment, before narrowing his eyes at the thing in her arms. "He knew, didn't he?"

Ralix shakes his head, before stepping back - and out of Qualia and Alaric's line of fire. "We both know your injuries are mortal. Your strength and life are waning. If the trauma does not claim you, the spreading corruption will. I know you are suffering. But your will is unbroken, is it not?" he asks aloofly, raising an eyebrow. "Then use that will, and what little strength you have left, to give us something. A name. A location. A clue as to what brought this dark fate upon you. Die if you must, but not with your spirit broken..."

He looks down into her eyes. And tries to find what little light remains in them. "Aporia can still be saved..." he says softly, hoping that something deep inside whatever is left of Kaetlyn will want to help save this planet from the same fate as Haitros.

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41



THE RESTAURANT

Ralix was correct. It was clear that Kaetlyn was fading fast, the spark of her life greatly diminished in the birthing of whatever horror was craddled in her arms. The notion of her being executed for bearing such a monstrosity doesn't seem to phase the young woman, though when the Adept questions whether or not Kasran knew of this, she pauses and with a grimace of pain, nods slowly.

The young lady suddenly cackles madly, exhaustion and whatever this vile taint in her body is driving her to the edge of delirium. "My spirit unbroken?" She mutters after the burst of manic laughter. "I wasn't born with a spirit, you foolish man. I've only ever been a vessel. I...I thought I had...more time..." With each word, the strength begins to wane from her body and the Acolytes can see not only the pulsing black in her veins growing faster and faster, but the palor of her skin wasting to that of a corpse.

"It is already...too late. Gaulyk lives and....his work....is nearly...done. Aporia was....was never the target. Just....a...means...to...to an....end....."

The Lady Kaetlyn's last breath passed with the whispered words, and she slumped lifelessly to the side. The bundle of stained rags in her arms seemed to writhe in her limp arms, and for but a moment, Qualia and Alaric caught a glimpse of corpse-pale flesh and too-wide glossy black eyes from within.





THE TRADE DEPOT

The security guard takes another drag of the lho-stick, and chuckles as the scented smoke spills past his lips. "We got a couple lookers up there, yeah. But we don't get a lot of new folks around these parts. Usually some Chartist Captains looking for new trade deals with the fisher-kings....and the regulars, of course. It's a busy port, but we usually don't have much to do." Cavan shrugs.

"Pleasure's all mine, Jericus." Cavan casts a glance at the swiftly dismembered creatures, and the ex-guardsman can see a bodily shudder run through the man. "Yeah...yeah this thing right here? It's an Aporian Lash-fin. I ain't never seen one that size before, and they usually don't have all the...ehm....the mouths." He grimaces. "The surface has all sorts of problems cropping up these days. My Pa used to tell me stories...."

He glances around furtively, and leans in to mutter the rest in a hushed tone. "Used to tell me that my family used to be part of the officer caste on the Blue Harvest centuries ago. Most of the stories about it aren't talked about much anymore. Bad fortune, it's said to bring. Anyway....a fiery star fell into the ocean once. It took months to finally sink - sorta floated there for a long while. Well, the Blue Harvest and the Turnbough both ended up coming across the star. Official story with the Administratum was the two ships sunk fighting over salvage rights to the star...but...my Pa tells it differently. Says something about the star drove men mad and change their bodies to match their spirits. Them's the exact words he used to say. Visitors from the stars came and covered the whole thing up. Thing is....my Pa says we got an ancestors journal that tells not only where the star landed, but where these visitors set up their base. Supposed to still be there....albeit empty, I'd expect after so many centuries." He seems to realize how candid he's being, and seems to shake it off while glancing around suspiciously.

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir
APORIAN MUTANT MATERNITY WARD TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41

Ralix's expression darkens as the dying woman calls herself a vessel. "I see..." he mutters, mostly to himself as she begins to cackle and murmur unspeakable things.

As Kaetlyn dies, and the thing in her arms writhes, Ralix simply scowls and turns his back. "Kill it," he says flatly to his comrades, before reaching up to key his microbead.

"Mission status critical," he says firmly to rest of the team. "Lady Kaetlyn has died given birth to a mutant. Her last words were a confession of involvement in a heretical plot involving Aporia and potentially other worlds. Captain Kasran Dire is a knowing participant in said plot. Inform security. The Emperor Protects," he intones gravely.

He glances back at Qualia and Alaric. "Alaric? Find Captain Hathaway. Hopefully he's still at the dining hall, but if not, you've got a better knack for... discovery," he says with a mirthless smirk, gesturing at the corpse(s) on the floor. "I'll stay here with Qualia, and deal with security when they arrive - if I fail, you must avoid apprehension. We may not have the authority to detain a Rogue Trader, lowly acolytes as we are, but I'm sure another Rogue Trader knows some loopholes or tricks to slow the Emperor-damned bastard down," he grins darkly.


Well we all know this has to be a thing... :smalltongue:

Scholastic Lore (Legend): [roll0] vs 46 to recognize the name Gaulyk
Scholastic Lore (Occult): [roll1] vs 46 for the same thing, or know anything about "vessels" in ritualism
Forbidden Lore (Heresy): [roll2] vs 46 for the same, and/or to recognize whether Kaetlyn's condition is a result of "normal" mutation, or if this was the result of some profane ritual or direct Warpcraft.

[Bennosuke]

Alaric takes a step forward and mercilessly fires several bullets into the remains of Lady Kaetlyn’s body, and the mutant baby.

I’m going to hold off on responding to Ralix as I don’t see any reason the group wouldn’t have Hathway’s contact and be able to just comm him. and for what it’s worth there isn’t much reason to split the group up at this point.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Qualia watched motionless as Alairc slammed what seemed like half a magazine into the abomination, foul blood and fluids spraying across the back wall. Holding her own fire, she closed the door again, muttering a small incantation of containment, before holstering her weapon and taking up a guard position

"What's the plan for dealing with security, exactly? We might be able to send some lowly troopers away but if the Arbites turn up we'll get detained just as quickly as the remains in there."

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

Ralix shakes his head, frowning grimly. "That's why Alaric needs to depart with haste. I'm going to take the non-hostile approach and tell them we're concerned citizens who stumbled upon a mutant birth in progress, and did our duty as any normal Imperial citizen should do. But let's face it, that may not work, and we'll likely be detained until I can convince a superior that we're guests of the Governor and have an appointment. If I throw around our status as agents of the Holy Ordos, they may not believe us, or worse, they'll blather to the whole station that the Inquisition is here, and word will travel to any potential suspects planetside."

He glances back at Alaric, and nods. "Go now! I don't care if you hail him on comm-link from down the hall, or drag him away from a nice meal, just make sure you're not caught up with us," he grimaces.

[Sarak]

Lena's tribal 'technique' as it turned out was a grisly affair, but effective. With Jericus holding the man down from the waist, Nuric was able to pin his arms above. As hot metal seared flesh, the youth's eyes snapped open and his struggle intensified to the point that even the strong-bodied monk had trouble holding him still, though he noticed that Jericus had much less difficulty with his controlled straddle. Nuric offered a prayer of thanks for His mercy when the youth lapsed into unconciousness. Keeping his arms pinned until Lena had finished her gruesome work, he couldn't help but admire the young woman's quick thinking; they would be vicious scars, but the man would live to tell about them. He released the man into the care of the newly arrived medicae, stepping back and making a mental note to thank the Emperor for their good fortune in the face of the creature's attack.

He turned to the young woman beside him, now wiping burnt tissue and blood off of her blades. "That was quick thinking Lena; perhaps not the first choice of the Orders Hospitaller or Guard Medicae, but make no mistake, you saved that man's life. The Emperor has seen fit to bless you with superb skill, and apparently some hidden talents as well!" Noticing that Jericus had taken up to conversation with the security detail and was making progress, he kept to the side with the assassin. As Ralix's message came in over their comms, Nuric started looking around for any sign of commotion or sight of Captain Dire. Odds were low that he'd be anywhere near this dome, but if he were involved in Kaetlyn's abhorrent condition then he might be making for his ship. He turned to one of the guards. "Excuse me, but could you tell me if the Direwolf has docked, and if so where it would be berthed? Captain Dire will wish to know that we'll be delayed for his dinner. I'll likely have to skip the meal entirely; I'd like to anoint the ground once this mutation's blood has been cleared away, to cleanse its touch from the station."

Awareness: [roll0] vs 36, searching for sign of Dire or anything out of the ordinary.

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41



THE RESTAURANT
Alaric, Ralix and Qualia

The body of Lady Kaetlyn shudders as Alaric's shots tear into her unprotected flesh. Whatever the thing in her arms is, a single buller seems to plunge into the swaddled, stained rags and a high-pitched, keening wail suddenly fills the bathroom. It drags on for a moment of head-splitting sound - loud enough to even crack the mirrors in the bathroom - before suddenly falling silent, and still.

There is a moment where the violence that was seen here seems to hang in the air, like a bubble of tension waiting to pop.

Then, the overhead lights flicker for a moment....before going dead and plunging the bathroom into darkness.

Beyond the doors, in the distance, shouts of surprise rise. It would seem that this is not an isolated phenomenon....





THE TRADE DEPOT

Jericus, Nuric and Lena

One of the guards - Roen - glanced at Brother Nuric and frowned slightly at his question. He scratched the stubble on his chin thoughtfully before replying. "I'm sorry, your Grace. The Direwolf isn't berthed here. Standard procedure for the station prohibits warships from docking. Usually the crew that comes aboard does so on a lander or other shuttle. I can check to see if the lander belonging to the Captain is still onboard, if you'd like?"

The guard tabs his ear-bud vox and contacts flight control for the station.

[b]"Come in Depot Control. This is Private Roen. We've got a request for an update on the status of Captain Dire of the Direwolf. Over." Roen nods thoughtfully for a moment, before glancing back to Nuric.

"Captain Dire disembarked from the station only moments ago on his private lander. He made a great deal of haste...."
The security guard barely finishes his explanation to the Acolytes, when sudcenly the lights flicker in the trade depot for a heartbeat before blinking off and plunging the entire area into pitch black.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that, every minute we languish in a cell is a minute headstart this investigation has on us"

At that moment, the lights dropped and the screams rose. Loss of power on a ship was routine enough that Qualia instinctively went for the hand light that should've been at her belt, a small curse escaping as she realised she'd forgotten to procure one

"This cannot be good, we have to find out what's going on out there."

[Bennosuke]

Alaric turns from Qalia to Ralix, and nods his head grimly. “Agreed,” he says with gun still drawn, “let’s get moving.” He moves to the door, and slowly pushes the door open just enough to peer out, hopefully without drawing attention. If the coast is clear, he will take point in departing the lady’s restroom.

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41



THE RESTAURANT

Alaric pushed the bathroom door open and the sounds of shouting became much louder. The restaurant, which was barely filled to begin with, had cleared entirely. Through the armour-glass windows looking out into the main hub of the administratum-level of the void station, Qualia could barely make out numerous throngs of people gathering while several station staff had glo-lamps and other hand-held sources of illumination out.

There was no real sign or indication of any Arbites or security forces heading in their general direction. In fact, with the darkness that they had been plunged into, it offered a unique opportunity to slip away before the corpse of Lady Kaetlyn could be discovered by anyone else.




Scholastic Lore (Occult): The name Gaulyk doesn’t seem to appear much in the way of traditional occultism or ritualistic practices, however the term vessel appears multiple times. It’s a common theme in many occult-based theories, treatises and lore. In a traditional sense, the term vessel is used to denote either a person or an object that is specially prepared to house something – usually an entity from the Empyrean, or a Daemon.

Forbidden Lore (Heresy): The name Gaulyk does appear in many mentions of Heresy. Gaulyk could pertain to one of the last surviving members of the Haitrosian royal family that eluded the Inquisition before they performed an Exterminatus of the planet. In this case, Gaulyk was a Magos-Biologis of the Adeptus Mechanicus who broke with his Oaths to the Omnissiah and returned to Haitros after completing his training. He was a master of genetics and xenobiology, and much of the heretical knowledge around him was focused on the breeding of potent mutant bloodlines using untainted human vessels to carry them to term. Apparently, shortly before the Exterminatus occurred, Gaulyk found a human from his own distant bloodline that was a perfect match to carry these mutants and birth them, though it would inevitably lead to their death. Despite this supposed hosts perfection, death would still be the outcome for the mother.

[Bennosuke]

Assuming there is no protestations, Alaric leads the group out of the bathroom, and if possible the restaurant to meet up with the rest of the acolytes.

Ooc: can roll if you want.

[CrimsonKnight]

Lena was quiet as Jericus and Nuric conversed with the station security personnel, looking oddly confused and even a little embarrassed. It had felt good to save the man, despite the fact that doing so had not only been extremely risky but had brought far more attention to herself than she was comfortable with. Throne knows her master would have beaten her into a bloody mess if he'd witnessed her exposing herself like that for a mere dock worker. It could have even made things worse for the mission. And yet... it had felt good. The medicae's praise had felt good, and she could not remember the last time she'd received such for something that had not involved killing (or indeed, in this case, been for the very opposite of killing). She needed time to process this later.

Lena was brought out of her reverie as the lights suddenly died all around them, leaving them in pitch black darkness. She mentally shelved her dilemma for later, there were more immediate things to worry about. After a few moments of feeling along her belt, she managed to locate the items she was looking for. One of them was her lamp pack, and when she thumbed the switch to illuminate and revealed herself, she'd donned the other item onto her head: a set of photo-visors. It'd taken quite a bit of time training with them to get used to wearing them (and of course, she still had not the faintest idea how they actually worked), but through practice and rote memorization, she could at least operate them unassisted. She approached her companions and Roen. "I think it is time we are rendezvousing with our, ah, employer Master Ralix. No doubt he will need assistance with this blackout. Here, if either of you need a lamp, you can use this one."

If and when Roen was no longer in hearing range of the trio, Lena would turn and add: "Let me lead a little ahead of you, I can see in this darkness just fine and keep an eye out if anything sees your lights and tries to jump you. Plus, I have the... scan box? Am I saying that right? Whatever, it will help me to see others."

She held up the device in question, which turned out to be a standard-issue auspex. Much like the visors, she'd learned how to use it through extensive repetitive practice without understanding how to use it (and she was certain that there were some functions to it she still could not do). In her free hand, she had her bow and an arrow tucked up against her body where she could quickly bring it to bear if necessary.

I will be making active Awareness Tests as we move if necessary, with the +20 bonus from my Auspex (so TN 51).

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

Ralix shudders as the piercing cry echoes through the station, darkness falling. "Damnable sorcery," he grumbles in disgust. "Pity we have no prometheum with which to burn it. I'm unsure if we should leave the corpse to be discovered by some curious civilian who try to be a helpful citizen and aid a wounded woman," he growls, dreading the idea of some poor fool trying to move the tainted corpse and getting that black ichor all over himself.

The scholar pauses for a moment, before whispering "Oh Holy Emperor..."

Shaking his head, he fumbles around in his robes for any sort of torch or glo-light. He only seems to have a wrist-chrono... which doesn't really provide enough light to do more than provide spooky dramatic lighting in the darkness. "Damned woman may have just given us an invaluable clue, but it also means we may not get off this station alive if I say too much," he mutters quietly. "Avoid sensors and pict-cameras as much as you can. Captain Kasran mentioned some sort of tech-virus plaguing the station, and now I'm certain this is all connected together. Be wary, for I fear it could be used to spy on us... or worse..." he scowls in the darkness.

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41



ADMINISTRATUM LEVEL

Ralix, Alaric and Qualia

With Ralix seeming to have been somewhat shaken by an insidious revelation, and the others anxious to make it out of the restaurant and into the rest of the station, Alaric led the others out. They made it through the now empty restaurant, and into the open lobby of the Administratum level. This area seemed to be rather thick with guards, though they were paying no mind to the three Acolytes – seeming more interested in standing guard at the entrances to the offices of various important personnel, or into more sensitive areas that pertained to station control.

Qualia was half-way to an emergency stairwell that led between levels with the others when she felt a rolling wave of nausea flow over her for a moment. It felt like she had falling into a pool of thick, cloying oil. But then, the sensation passed.


While that previously sensed Warp signature still pulsed in the back of her mind, Qualia was beginning to realize that it seemed to be growing in intensity. Almost as if it was being fed, and growing larger and more bloated with each passing moment. It was a slow growth, but the Psyker knew from the sense of wrongness that it would grow unchecked unless someone could discover its origins.






TRADE DEPOT

Jericus, Lena and Nuric

With a viable source of illumination in hand, the Acolytes managed to extricate themselves from the growing panic in the depot. The various dock workers – still corralled by station security forces – were a murmuring mass of discontent and worry. It was fortunate that each of the security personnel had shoulder-mounted glow-lamps and were able to effectively keep the peace.

No one noticed the three slip quietly out of the depot and into the central trade hub. It was here that they could access any other level of the void-station, including the Administratum level and the docking ring that allowed ships to find their berth with the void-station.

Nuric noticed that a small shrine to the Imperial Creed was brightly illuminated from within, and without, as a number of young-looking robed initiates were working on setting out dozens of small, tallow candles. To light the way in the darkness, came the unbidden thought to the Cleric.

Station security were hustling about, though paying little heed to any passerby’s. They were able to travel through these levels of the station unmolested. Jericus thought that, if standard operating procedures were in place, the guards would be gathering at key convergences in the station to act as checkpoints and small beacons of safety in the darkness.

It was, however, Lena who caught a glimpse of fluttering rust-red robes and black carapace armour moving swiftly through the dispersing crowds. There were three of them; two armoured bearing a skull encircled by a cog, with fully enclosed environmental helmets and carrying well-maintained hellguns. The third wore no armour, but a half-dozen small mechadendrites spilled from within the voluminous red robes and the sound of pumping pneumatics hissed with each step the figure made.






The vox signal, encrypted on a personal frequency whose cyphers were known only to the crew of the Wayfarer, and had been provided to the Acolytes during their transit to Aporia, was revealed to be Commander Roth.

There was some static interference in the signal, but for the most part it was relatively clear in message and intent.

”..ome in. This is Roth, over. Do you copy? Come in, please.”[b/] Her voice was curt and tight with tension, but she seemed to be outwardly cool and collected.

[b]”Our Augers have picked up a cascade power failure in the void-station. It is contained to auxillary systems, and basic environmental control. While it is limited at the moment, I have some fears about it getting worse. If the cascade enters primary systems…..” She allows the possibilities to go unspoken, but those like Qualia would know the horror of a slow, cold death trapped in a powerless hunk of metal in space. ”But…more important to your immediate mission….I had a sweep of the planet done three times to confirm our results. We’ve found it. Velar’s Hope. It appears to be lodged in a channel between two large ice flows in the Northern Polar region. I will transmit the coordinates to you shortly.”

[Bennosuke]

Alaric stops his progress through the restaurant when he notices Qualia’s sudden distress. Moving to an alcove where they could sop for a moment he asks the Psyker, “Everything alright?” There is both concern, and a subtle terror in the man’s voice and focused eyes. They needed to get out of there and fast.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

The growing sense of dread filled Qualia's head, and she took a moment to stop and hold the handrail of the stairs tightly. She barely heard Alairc's question, presuming what was said from the ganger

"Something big is going down, now, and we either need to stop it or get the Throne off this station. If we can get somewhere clear, I can try to locate any life sources that shouldn't be here"

She kept her pistol tight, and continued down the stairs, the weight of her psykana suddenly more present than before

[Bennosuke]

Alaric follows, gun ready, countenance grim.

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

Ralix grimaces at the sight of all the guards, before glancing with concern at Qualia. He follows her and Alaric to the alcove, turning his back to them and gazing around warily. "We need to keep moving," he mutters furtively. "If we..." his voice trails off as Qualia makes her revelation. "Damnation!" he hisses, before keying his microbead.

"We need to regroup. Watch your words, comms may be compromised," he says, sending a message to the whole cell. "Strong possibility of direct Heretek involvement, avoid pict-viewers and scanners and other sensor technology if you can. Qualia senses danger, be wary of ambush or Warpcraft. Will update momentarily, Emperor guide you," he intones.

He then returns a message to Commander Roth, using the Captain's encrypted channel. "Situation aboard station is degrading, mutant encountered, other possible threats detected. Status of Captain Hathaway?" he asks, tone firm and serious. No sniveling aristocrat, just a determined agent of the Throne. "If he is not back aboard, we need his location. He may be at persona risk," he growls, realizing that Captain Dire may want to silence potential loose ends...

The scholar then glances to Qualia, expression dour. "Do I need to make a distraction, or can you sense it from one of these booths or alcoves?" he asks her, as he glances around for possible threats or places they can hide themselves.


Awareness: [roll0] vs 17

[CrimsonKnight]

With a viable source of illumination in hand, the Acolytes managed to extricate themselves from the growing panic in the depot. The various dock workers – still corralled by station security forces – were a murmuring mass of discontent and worry. It was fortunate that each of the security personnel had shoulder-mounted glow-lamps and were able to effectively keep the peace.

No one noticed the three slip quietly out of the depot and into the central trade hub. It was here that they could access any other level of the void-station, including the Administratum level and the docking ring that allowed ships to find their berth with the void-station.

Nuric noticed that a small shrine to the Imperial Creed was brightly illuminated from within, and without, as a number of young-looking robed initiates were working on setting out dozens of small, tallow candles. To light the way in the darkness, came the unbidden thought to the Cleric.

Station security were hustling about, though paying little heed to any passerby’s. They were able to travel through these levels of the station unmolested. Jericus thought that, if standard operating procedures were in place, the guards would be gathering at key convergences in the station to act as checkpoints and small beacons of safety in the darkness.

It was, however, Lena who caught a glimpse of fluttering rust-red robes and black carapace armour moving swiftly through the dispersing crowds. There were three of them; two armoured bearing a skull encircled by a cog, with fully enclosed environmental helmets and carrying well-maintained hellguns. The third wore no armour, but a half-dozen small mechadendrites spilled from within the voluminous red robes and the sound of pumping pneumatics hissed with each step the figure made.

Lena fixed her gaze on the trio of cloaked and armored figures steadily working their way through the crowds. She stopped moving long enough for Jericus and Nuric to catch up before informing them of what she had seen. "Heads up. Three of those red priests of metal just ahead, though judging from their gear, I am thinking two are bodyguards for the third one. Maybe a senior priest? Very heavily armed though, better even than your equipment Jericus. I would assume they're to fixing the blackout, but not sure why they are needing so much firepower. Something seems off..."[/B


The vox signal, encrypted on a personal frequency whose cyphers were known only to the crew of the Wayfarer, and had been provided to the Acolytes during their transit to Aporia, was revealed to be Commander Roth.

There was some static interference in the signal, but for the most part it was relatively clear in message and intent.

[b]”..ome in. This is Roth, over. Do you copy? Come in, please.”[b/] Her voice was curt and tight with tension, but she seemed to be outwardly cool and collected.

[b]”Our Augers have picked up a cascade power failure in the void-station. It is contained to auxillary systems, and basic environmental control. While it is limited at the moment, I have some fears about it getting worse. If the cascade enters primary systems…..” She allows the possibilities to go unspoken, but those like Qualia would know the horror of a slow, cold death trapped in a powerless hunk of metal in space. ”But…more important to your immediate mission….I had a sweep of the planet done three times to confirm our results. We’ve found it. Velar’s Hope. It appears to be lodged in a channel between two large ice flows in the Northern Polar region. I will transmit the coordinates to you shortly.”


Ralix grimaces at the sight of all the guards, before glancing with concern at Qualia. He follows her and Alaric to the alcove, turning his back to them and gazing around warily. "We need to keep moving," he mutters furtively. "If we..." his voice trails off as Qualia makes her revelation. "Damnation!" he hisses, before keying his microbead.

"We need to regroup. Watch your words, comms may be compromised," he says, sending a message to the whole cell. "Strong possibility of direct Heretek involvement, avoid pict-viewers and scanners and other sensor technology if you can. Qualia senses danger, be wary of ambush or Warpcraft. Will update momentarily, Emperor guide you," he intones.

Lena listened to the two vox transmissions with growing trepidation. She did not know what a 'cascade power failure' was, but she had no reason to assume it was anything other than very, very bad. And then it all became clear with Ralix's message of Hereteks: sabotage. And right now, the most likely suspects were the same ones she had just spotted. Unfortunately, if he was right about someone listening to their communications... time to be a little creative. She thumbed her micro-bead to transmit. "This is Lena. I think you may be onto something, Ralix. I have a possible lead I am following. Heresy in the guise of the faithful. I intend to pursue."

After releasing her comms, she turns towards Jericus and Nuric. "Up to you if you want to come along or meet up with the others first. This darkness will make following in stealth much easier for me. If you do come, try to keep a discrete distance."

Lena began following along doing her best to use the darkness and crowds to avoid notice from the trio of red-cloaked figures, her bow grasped under her cloak ready to be fired at a moment's notice.

Shadowing Test, TN 30 (not including whatever bonus I get from the darkness)
[roll0]
Don't forget Unremarkable gives a -20 penalty to any Perception/Awareness Tests to notice me while in a crowd.

[Sarak]

The vox signal, encrypted on a personal frequency whose cyphers were known only to the crew of the Wayfarer, and had been provided to the Acolytes during their transit to Aporia, was revealed to be Commander Roth.

There was some static interference in the signal, but for the most part it was relatively clear in message and intent.

”..ome in. This is Roth, over. Do you copy? Come in, please.”[b/] Her voice was curt and tight with tension, but she seemed to be outwardly cool and collected.

[b]”Our Augers have picked up a cascade power failure in the void-station. It is contained to auxillary systems, and basic environmental control. While it is limited at the moment, I have some fears about it getting worse. If the cascade enters primary systems…..” She allows the possibilities to go unspoken, but those like Qualia would know the horror of a slow, cold death trapped in a powerless hunk of metal in space. ”But…more important to your immediate mission….I had a sweep of the planet done three times to confirm our results. We’ve found it. Velar’s Hope. It appears to be lodged in a channel between two large ice flows in the Northern Polar region. I will transmit the coordinates to you shortly.”


Ralix grimaces at the sight of all the guards, before glancing with concern at Qualia. He follows her and Alaric to the alcove, turning his back to them and gazing around warily. "We need to keep moving," he mutters furtively. "If we..." his voice trails off as Qualia makes her revelation. "Damnation!" he hisses, before keying his microbead.

"We need to regroup. Watch your words, comms may be compromised," he says, sending a message to the whole cell. "Strong possibility of direct Heretek involvement, avoid pict-viewers and scanners and other sensor technology if you can. Qualia senses danger, be wary of ambush or Warpcraft. Will update momentarily, Emperor guide you," he intones.

Lena listened to the two vox transmissions with growing trepidation. She did not know what a 'cascade power failure' was, but she had no reason to assume it was anything other than very, very bad. And then it all became clear with Ralix's message of Hereteks: sabotage. And right now, the most likely suspects were the same ones she had just spotted. Unfortunately, if he was right about someone listening to their communications... time to be a little creative. She thumbed her micro-bead to transmit. "This is Lena. I think you may be onto something, Ralix. I have a possible lead I am following. Heresy in the guise of the faithful. I intend to pursue."

After releasing her comms, she turns towards Jericus and Nuric. "Up to you if you want to come along or meet up with the others first. This darkness will make following in stealth much easier for me. If you do come, try to keep a discrete distance."

Lena began following along doing her best to use the darkness and crowds to avoid notice from the trio of red-cloaked figures, her bow grasped under her cloak ready to be fired at a moment's notice.


Nuric patted the familiar form of his autopistol in it's rig, adjusting it to better conceal it now that his robes had been left behind. He turned to the ex-Guardsman beside him. "I am loathe to leave Lena without backup, especially after her description of her intended quarry. Perhaps we should attempt to remain close by, in case she needs assistance?" He moved to follow as discreetly as he could at a distance without losing her in the crowd.

Awareness: [roll0] vs 36. Attempting to keep some sight of Lena or her targets in the crowd while keeping back.

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41



THE ADMINISTRATUM LEVEL

Ralix, Alaric and Qualia

Commander Roth was quick to mention that Captain Hathaway was secure in the upper offices of the Administratum with Station Administrator and his entourage. He was as safe as they could be, given the circumstances.

Alaric and Ralix were able to find a quiet office just off the main lobby, left unlocked in the panic, and slip in with Qualia before closing the door. The sounds from the outside were muted and, like the rest of the station, it was dark.



It's highly unlikely that anyone will find you in the office - it only has one window and the door, and the window faces further down a side hallway. No direct line of sight. Unless the guards do a sweep, you're good for a while if you need a moment. :smallsmile:

Also, Jericus had suggested everyone regroup at the lander in the docking bay. The one you landed at is just off one of the trade depots, though not the one with the dead mutant.







TRADE HUB
Nuric, Lena and Jericus

With the three red-robed men disappearing quickly into the crowds, Lena sprung into action and slipped into the crowds unnoticed. While Nuric wasn't able to pin-point her, he knew she wouldn't be likely to lose her targets either.

With the Cleric and Jericus following at a safe distance, they were able to track the red-robed figures through the trade hub until, at length, they came to stop by a massive blast door covered in warning sigils. It was a maintenance lift; they likely ran the entire length of the station and even down into the control area for the space elevator.

One of the figures approached the control panel while the other two flanked him and cast masked-gazes across the bustling crowds. Mechadendrites quivered around the robed man as he worked at the control panel with practiced ease.



From the perspective of the crowds, most of them are on their way to their designated checkpoint (assigned for emergencies such as this), and it will only be about five more minutes or so before the trade hub is cleared of all but security personnel. Whatever this guy is doing at the panel, it's taking too long for it to simply be a call for the elevator or to open the blast door.

[ArendK]

Jericus weighed his options. He didn't like most of the dedicated combatants in one group almost exclusively with trouble on both ends, though Ralix, Alaric, and Qualia could likely hold their own in most smaller encounters; while Lena and Nuric weren't scholars like Ralix or nearly as quick tongued, they were capable survivalists. He was relieved to hear Commander Roth more for the update on what was going on than anything else. While the techno-babble she said translated as little more than "stuff isn't working and it could get worse," it was enough to tell Jericus that they really didn't want to be on any hunk of metal in space over a planet longer than necessary if environmental systems were failing.

The priests Lena was tailing, it dawned on Jericus, might be the solution as opposed to a problem. Jericus had a lingering thought of how much firepower the walking mountains of metal and wires could bring to bear if they felt the inclination. If they were the source of the problem, then Jericus wondered how effective the 3 of them would be against the priests. If they were the solution, how much help could the Acolytes be?

Jericus pulled his jacket hood up over his head as he moved with the group after hearing Ralix's message. He didn't know if it would help, but there were too many coincidences all at once. Big scary fish beast, the scum-sucking mutie Ralix and the others found, Captain Dires apparently heretical behavior, the sudden reappearance of the Velars Hope, and the systems failure immediately after Dires departure; all within hours of the Acolytes arrival. Either they were expected, or their arrival triggered something where it all happened at once. 1 or 2 of them together could be written off as chance. But all of them? Not likely.

"If there's something wrong that three armed to their metal teeth machine-priests can't fix or kill down there, I'm not sure how much extra value our weapons will benefit. And if they aren't going down to fix the problem but to make it worse, I don't think our heaviest artillery is really going to make a dent in that carapace and metal. The Hellguns will melt our armor, and let's not get into what it would do to our flesh. Whatever we're going to do, we need to get off this station as soon as possible. That being said; if we're going to follow these guys, we need to be careful and be ready to run. Any semblance of a fair fight we will lose."

Jericus keyed his bead with the Wayfarers code;
"Commander; heard and confirmed. Get the Lander ready for immediate departure once you confirm the Captains safety. It sounds like we're going to have a hard exit once we're all back together; as soon as that door closes with the last of us on board, we need to be heading planet-side. Q, you guys finish what you're doing and head back to the Lander. We'll do the same. Also, if you make contact with the Captain, we need a need a heading on the Lander his buddy was taking to the surface as well as the coordinates of the ship you found. Just a hunch, they're one and the same."

Regardless of his opinions on the matter, he agreed to stay together with Lena and Nuric.

[Bennosuke]

Once in the office, Alaric reholsters his pistol, and pulls his comm. To the group, he says, “We should probably inquire about Captain Kasran”, before pulling his comm and following Ralix’s example and comming Commander Roth. He explains the situation regarding the Rogue Trader, and recommends that if anything can be done to capture or locate Captain Kasran, that it be done.

Once finished, Alaric says to Qualia, “Are we good to go, or is there something you need to get done?” He won’t pretend to know how Psykers do... what they don but want to give her the opportunity to work her “magic”.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

"The office will be sufficient, just watch for enemies all about."

Qualia doesn't wait for any acknowledgement, simply pulling the rank insignia from under her robes and holding it tight as she begins to make the necessary incantations

So I want to do a Sense Presence power, but I'm currently away from book for the next day or so while I fly back from the US. I'm pretty sure I need to d10+WP bonus (5) and beat a threshold of 7. I may be wrong though

[roll0] Vs 7
Fate reroll if things go bad
[roll1] Vs 7 Hooray, no bad things

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

Ralix follows Alaric and Qualia into the office. Once the door is shut, he gestures for Qualia to take a seat or find a nice spot to do... whatever she's going to do. He draws his revolver with his right hand, turning to face the door and raising the weapon. If the door opens, and whoever or whatever steps through isn't a security, he's prepared to fire first and ask questions later.

"All she needs is for us to be silent," he says dryly to Alaric, not letting his gaze wander from the door. His left hand raises to his neck, and begins to idly thumb and twist the Aquila charm hanging from a gilded chain. "A Sanctioned Psyker needs only their faith in the Emperor and the strength of their will, though some may use a small item like a staff or charm to focus their mind," he quietly explains to his hive scum protege. "I can explain more later, but suffice to say, she needs no ritualism or other assistance. And such things are dangerous and unsavory, anyway," he frowns.

The scholar falls silent, and frowns. There's too much going on. Too many coincidences. Kasran Dire, a noblewoman from a damned world giving birth to a mutant, a heretek plot, the missing ship being recovered, mutated sealife...

His frown deepens. The Adeptus Mechanicus had a research station on the seafloor, after all. And what better place for a heretek to infiltrate and use to launch a planet-wide conspiracy, perform heretical experiments on humans and sealife, and upload a tech-virus...

All too convenient and coincidental. But that's a matter to discuss when the acolytes reunite. Assuming their foes don't realize how quickly the curtain is being pulled back, and bring the fight to them first...


Ralix is a bit caught up in his conspiracy theories, so for now he's just gonna draw his weapon and spend time taking the Aim action(s) on the doorway. :smallsmile:

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41



THE ADMINISTRATUM LEVEL

Qualia, Ralix and Alaric



Yes, you're correct.

You roll 1d10 for each level of Psy Rating you have, and add your WP bonus to beat a Threshold number. You can also voluntarily manifest abilities with a lower Psy Rating if you desire to offset the chance of Perils of the Warp.

In this case, you succeeded on your first attempt so no need to spend a Fate to reroll.

Also, you didn't roll a 9 on the die so, fortunately, no Perils for you this time. :smallbiggrin:





As Qualia opens her senses to the flows of the Empyrean, she suddenly feels the lifeforce of countless people roll across her perception. She feels Alaric and Ralix, and further out that of the guards and all the milling Administrators on this level. Below, in the trade hub she senses the lifeforce of all the other station personnel who seem to be gathering together in small crowds near emergecy exit checkpoints.

She senses Lena, Jericus and Nuric and three whose lifeforce is tainted by the touch of the Machine-God.

Deeper....deeper still....she feels something in the bowels of the station. It is a young life-force, but not one born from this side of reality. It is of the Warp, certainly, but it is not physical in the same sense that Qualia or the others are. It is in the walls....

Even as the Psyker's senses fall upon this strange lifeforce, she can feel small feelers of psychic energy reaching out as if seeking to meet her own senses. Whatever it is, it seems to be aware it is being percieved.



Qualia closes her eyes, and clutches her focus as she intones the ancient words that will expand her senses across the Empyrean and into the depths of the station - seeking....something.

Alaric's question to the Psyker goes unanswered for now, though Ralix manages to offer a brief explanation to the youthful Scum. Aside from their breathing, all is silent.

In fact, it's too quiet. The sudden realization that the usually omnipresent puffing of air recyclers that fades into the background noise of the station is missing.

And the temperature seems to be growing somewhat cooler. Not significantly, but enough that metal surfaces untouched by human hands have chilled to the touch.





TRADE HUB

Lena, Jericus and Nuric

The crowds continued to disperse, and very soon the Acolytes would be left exposed on the deck of the trade hub and easily visible to the Tech-Priest and his two Skitarii bodyguards.

There is a momentary cessation of activity as the Tech-Priest seems startled by something he see's on the control panel. A heartbeat later, a shower of sparks erupts from the console and his mechadendrites stutter erratically as he turns to the two guards. A sequence of strange clicking sounds passes through the now-visible cybernetic rebreather and vox-caster implanted in his jaw to the others and their body language speaks of a sudden shift into a more active observation mode. They **** the firing sequencers on their hellguns and all the Acolytes can hear the rising hum as the power-packs that fuel the potent las-weapons begins spooling up.

The Tech-Priest turns back to the panel, and as he does so, some of the mechadendrites armed with small tools rise to pry the panel from the wall with a sharp snapping sound and he begins to tinker with the innards all the while muttering soft incantations of repair.

[CrimsonKnight]

After spending a few minutes observing the Tech-Priest and his bodyguards, Lena shook her head and turned away. She was mostly convinced she'd jumped the gun by following them. She was certainly no expert when it came to machine systems or the proper processes for repairing them, but if the three of them weren't legitimate servants of the Machine Cult, they certainly were doing an excellent job pretending they were. She glanced at her companions.

"Sorry Jericus, I think you were right about them. They're probably just a repair team trying to fix this blackout, and in the unlikely chance they aren't, there's not much we can do if their weapons are as strong as you say. Plus, even if they aren't Hereteks, they don't look too friendly now. We should go find the others while we still have the crowds for cover, and then get off this bloody station. Gonna be a long debrief as is."

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

As Qualia drifted, she had seen the other's probes, trying desperately to float away from them, but only being pulled in faster. Just as she thought herself lost, the green one came from seemingly nowhere, pressed into her face, and then, nothing.

Qualia's eyes opened with a start, her insignia falling from her hand and seeming to freeze as it dropped, before being caught by the small chain that held it. The panic in her eyes is clear to see, although it takes her a few moments to regain control of her voice.

"Below and around, something seeks to consume us. A new life, but not living, waits in the depths of the station, but it has already grown far. It's heart is in the pits below us, but it knows we know of it, and it spreads it's presence into the very walls and doors of this facility."

Sense and sanity appeared to restore as she spoke, as if parts of her moving at different speeds were coming back into sync again

"We must go down, quickly, and find the others. We will need everything we can muster"

[Bennosuke]

Alaric draws his gun again and nods his head sternly. “Sounds like a plan. Lead the way”, he says, following the Psyker out of their hiding place.

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

Ralix nods, expression stern and set. "So it's on the station with us? And it knows we're on it's trail? Well then, mayhaps this station losing power and burning up in the atmosphere wouldn't be such a terrible outcome then," he muses, shaking his head.

Reaching up with his left hand, he keys his micro-bead, while also keeping his firearm leveled at the door. "Situation update - Qualia has sensed something on the station. Its in the lower levels, it's big, and it knows we're onto it. It's corrupting the doors, walls, and likely systems of the station, so don't let your guard down. We need to either get off station now, or rally some allies and heavier firepower with haste."

He turns back to Qualia, and nods. "Are you alright?" he softly asks, stepping a bit closer but keeping a courteous distance as she regains her composure. "Was there anything else you sensed, or could gather from what you felt?"

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

"If we drop the station, we risk scattering it across the planet below. The beasts of the Empyrean are not known for abiding by our rules. We need to find another way."

Standing and drawing her weapon again, Qualia began setting off, one of her legs threatening to give out as she moved. Her grim determination from years of service quickly stabilised it.

"Thank you for the concern, Mr Zamir, but I don't have the option of not being alright at the moment, so we press on regardless."

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41



THE ADMINISTRATUM LEVEL

Ralix, Qualia and Alaric

Once Qualia had broken from her reverie into the Empyrean realms of the Warp, the three Acolytes slipped from the quiet office back into the main lobby of the administratum level.

It was revealed, very quickly, that the primary lifts to and from this level were now locked down by several flak-armoured station guards, and several more - of officer rank - were directing the last dregs of the administratum staff to their appointed sanctuary checkpoints.

Ralix knew that they'd be stopped and questioned if they approached the lifts seeking to travel elsewhere on the station, though Alaric did see a maintenance hatch as they passed by.

The hatch did not lead to a lift. Instead, it was a simple chute with a ladder that spanned the entirety height of the station; if one slipped, it was a very long way down - but it would give them easy access to wherever they needed to go.


Some rolls....
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]






TRADE HUB

Lena, Nuric and Jericus

The three representatives of the Machine Cult were well occupied, as the leader seeemed to be - at least at a cursory glance - trying to manually override the lift. A lift that could take them to the bowels of the station, the space elevator itself, or the highest pinacle of the Administratum level.

The crowds had thinned greatly, and Lena caught a flicker of recognition as one of the two Skitarii seeemd to turn his head in Nuric and Jericus' direction and stare at them - though he made no other motions, aggressive or otherwise.

There were less than fifty people left in this section of the trade hub and it would be empty within minutes.


Some more rolls!
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]

[ArendK]

Jericus listened to Ralix's comm message, and an idea sprang to mind.

Jericus turned to Nuric and Lena, "The Emperor blesses us in strange ways. If we need more firepower to deal with the threat below, what are the odds that the nearest source of sufficient firepower happens to be both trying to fix the problem AND the only group likely on the station that won't panic at the mention of who we represent?"

"Should we call Ralix and direct him and the others here?"

[Sarak]

Jericus turned to Nuric and Lena, "The Emperor blesses us in strange ways. If we need more firepower to deal with the threat below, what are the odds that the nearest source of sufficient firepower happens to be both trying to fix the problem AND the only group likely on the station that won't panic at the mention of who we represent?"

"Should we call Ralix and direct him and the others here?"

Nuric had been having similar thoughts; too coincidental for everything to line up like this. Though he didn't fully trust the Mechanicus and their skewed (and skirting heretical) view of the God-Emperor, they WERE servants of Mankind too. They were also probably the least likely to wish ill to the station itself, at least if they were who they appeared to be.

He nodded in agreement with Jericus, triggering his comm. "Rare are those moments when the God-Emperor intervenes directly; rather, he provides opportunity, and it is up to His faithful to make His will manifest. We are currently observing a team from the Adeptus Mechanicus who appear to be attempting repairs on an elevator lift that could take us to the depths of the station. They are well armed and could provide the extra assistance needed in dealing with the threat that Qualia has sensed. If we are to challenge the presence afflicting this station, this is the time and place, lest it be lost forever to corruption." He related their location, and description of the group in question.

Quieter, to Jericus and Lena, he says "There is still a chance that they aren't here to help, or are here with their own agenda. They could be affiliated with the Mechanicus planetside who are potential suspects in our investigation. I suggest we be at the ready in case this does not go as we wish it to."

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

Ralix holds his hand to his ear, and listens to the message from Nuric. "Received and confirmed. Approach with caution; I would recommend Jericus speak to them, as if they're Skitarii, they may respect him for the proper care and respect Guardsmen show their weapons and gear. We will attempt to join you with haste." He then glances to Qualia and Alaric, and frowns. "Sounds like we need to rendezvous quickly. Those Skitarii would be invaluable, but if they're traitorous, our comrades do not need to be alone with them..." he murmurs, before glancing back at the guards, then back at his comrades.

"Well, the way I see it, we can either try the direct route and tell them we're special guests of the planetary governor, and let them know we've encountered something on this station during this investigation - even if they detain us they'll have to act on our warnings about something aboard the station. Or... we can try to sneak past them somehow, mayhaps using some sort of ventilation shaft or something. With two Hivers and a Voidfarer, we all know a thing or two about navigating ductworks, maintenance tunnels, and other such mazes, so I think the odds of survival are tolerable there at least..." he muses with an idle shrug. "What say you, comrades?"

[ArendK]

Jericus nodded. He wasn't thrilled about drawing the short-straw about having to be the one to approach them, but he supposed it couldn't be helped. He keyed his bead in response.

"Get here as fast as you can without dropping our employers name. Nuric, can you go check for any checkpoints between us and Ralix and use your status as a holy man to try to pave the way? If the Lander is on the way, stop and grab my ruck will you?" After turning it off, he looks at Lena and shrugs "You can follow if you want."

Jericus stepped out from his cover in the crowd to approach the tech-priests carefully, keeping his hands open and clearly unarmed for the Skiitari to see. He walks until he is stopped or within a couple meters to talk relatively casually to them (as casually as you can talk to mountains of metal).

"Easy. We're friends. You guys are trying to fix the problems with the station? We are too. One of my friends is a sanctioned psyker and has pinpointed the disturbance below. We believe it's something from the Warp and it needs to be eviscerated. We want to help. They are on their way here and can help with whatever is down there. We pose no threat to you or the station and nothing would be gained from us approaching you with us heavily outgunned if we weren't telling the truth.

[roll0] Charm vs. 16 (1/2 of Fellowship)
Edit after roll- I'll spend the Fate Point. Rolled in OOC - Rolled an 87

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

"I wouldn't rely on station personnel acting on a warning in time, so I think evasion is the way forward. Like you said, none of us are exactly afraid of running through tunnels."

[Bennosuke]

Alaric nods his head in agreement. “The faster the better. Shouldn’t be too hard to find our way out of here...”

Will take an awareness roll at 30 to attempt to find some sort of ideal passage. [roll0]

[CrimsonKnight]

Lena glanced at the heavily armed guards for a moment before shrugging. "If you want to try it Jericus, I'll back you up. Just, uh... don't expect me to know how to talk with the weird metal men."

She fell in behind the guardsman and followed him with her hands empty to appear unthreatening as he approached the red-cloaked trio, keeping a close eye on the two bodyguards and especially at the heavy lasguns they were wielding.

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41



TRADE HUB

Lena, Nuric and Jericus

The approach of the Acolytes towards the two Skitarii and the Tech-Priest did not go unnoticed, and the moment that it was determined their destination was to interact with the trio of red-robed members of the Machine Cult, the two Skitarii stepped forward with their hellguns held at the ready. There was a cursory glance to Nuric whose garb as a member of the Ministorum was immediately recognized.

The placating behaviour that Jericus demonstrated as he approached did not seem to put them off their guard at all, and while the Tech-Priest studiously worked at the innards of the control panel, the two Skitarii stood firmly between their charge and the trio of Acolytes.
One of them, in a voice so heavily modified by the built-in vox system in the mask he wore that it did not sound human at all, spoke as they approached with weapons undrawn.

"You are not annointed members of the Omnissiah's Priesthood. You appear to be mercenary in origin. State the nature of the authority in which you seek to assist." The other Skitarii remains silent, though Lena can feel his gaze upon her. Jericus, during his conversation with the Skitarii soldier, can see the venting duct of the hellguns glowing a faint red from the build up of las-energy in the spooling coils.





ADMINISTRATUM LEVEL

Qualia, Alaric and Ralix


It only took the three Acolytes a few minutes to breach the nearest maintenance door and enter into the cramped shaft with the ladder that spanned the entire breadth of the station.

They were plunged into darkness, and the air was a touch on the chilly side. The metal rungs of the ladder were cold, and numbing to bare skin and the thought of traversing the station in this cold, dark tunnel was not the most appealing.

After some trial and error, the trio eventually found their way down to an access hatch that dimly proclaimed, in faded white lettering, entrance to the trade hub - and a side access hatch that Ralix estimated would lead directly into the maintenance lift that they suspected the Mechanicus Cultists were attempting to enter.

Both hatches were not locked, and could easily be slid open. By this time, despite the darkness, they could feel their breath misting in the chilly air that seemed to grow colder the lower they got.

Alaric didn't seem at all bothered by the tight confines, having used maintenance areas much like this to avoid the authorities upon the Forge World of his birth, while Qualia still felt the tell-tale remnants of the entity at the corner of her perception - seeking...grasping...

[ArendK]

"Fething tech-priests." Jericus thought. He'd forgotten they were notoriously rigid in their structure and processes, more so than even the most stubborn Guardsman officer in following the instructions to the letter rather than the intent of the orders. Only difference was the stick wedged in the tech-priests rear end tended to be made of metal.

Jericus looks around to make sure none of the onlookers in the crowd were paying them much mind before leaning cautiously forward to answer the Skitarii's question. He really didn't like tipping their hand this early, but trigger happy Skitarii were not something he really wanted to deal with.

"We're Acolytes to the Inquisition, Ordo Hereticus, under orders from Inquisitor Bannon. We don't carry credentials as a result of that suspicion. We were en route to investigate an unrelated issue planet-side when all this began occurring. As the loss of this station would be detrimental to our mission and cause, preserving it is in our teams best interests. You can accept our help, realizing that you have us fully out gunned and we have nothing to gain or benefit from trying to sabotage your efforts to fix the station. Or you can decline, and in which case we will be on our way to get off the station while the three of you try to attack an unknown entity with connections to the Warp and no specialized means to fight such an enemy, and our report will say that our efforts to preserve the station were met with distrust from the Priesthood of the Omnissiah. You can argue about authority and jurisdiction while the station is failing or you can help save the station and improve relations with the organization I'm representing. Choice is yours friend."

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Out of the corner of her vision, she could see the green one still trying to bat away the inquiring eyes of the Other, a stark contrast to the otherwise murky environment. She quickly attempted to ground herself again, the cold steel of the ladder and the misting breath around them reminding her of some of the harder times aboard His Light, times she'd survived. Today would be no different, and it would take a lot more than the Warp or the cold to stop her. Still, her mind worried to what was coming.

"Any update on the other half of the team? We're better off going in as a single group, preferably with reinforcements"

[Sarak]

"Get here as fast as you can without dropping our employers name. Nuric, can you go check for any checkpoints between us and Ralix and use your status as a holy man to try to pave the way? If the Lander is on the way, stop and grab my ruck will you?" After turning it off, he looks at Lena and shrugs "You can follow if you want."


The monk nodded at his colleague's plan of action. "That seems wise; I shall return momentarily." He paused a moment before turning, a wry grin on his face. "Don't hesitate to call me back with the sound of las-fire if it should turn out that we misread this situation."

He walked back towards the lifts ; there had only been one security team between their rendezvous and the lifts that he could recall. He approached the armed men, brandishing eikon and Aquila. "This station requires the blessing of the God-Emperor to survive this calamity! I will do all that I can to speed this, but I ask that you allow Master Zamir and his colleagues to pass and direct them my way once they arrive. We do the work of He who sits on the Golden Throne this day, and this station can perhaps still be saved." Hoping that they wouldn't ask questions (and keeping enough distance that his unnatural presence might not put them off), and barring hearing any, he returned to Jericus and Lena, who were already in conversation with the Adeptus Mechanicus representatives (and thankfully not a firefight).

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

"Not yet," Ralix huffs breathlessly in response to Qualia's inquiry, as he trudges along down the ladder. He frowns as his breath forms a soft mist as he speaks. "Frak, I'm not sure if this cold is the station or the thing, but either way we need to act quickly."

Glancing around, he pauses his descent. "It seems we can either return to the trade hub we started at, and try to rejoin our comrades from there, or we can try that hatch over there. Seems to lead to an access lift shaft... which shouldn't be operational due to the power outage, so we have much less chance of being smashed into a fine paste by said lift," he chimes with a cheerful smile in the darkness. "I think it may also be what those Techpriests were working on, if I recall our comrades' correctly..." he murmurs.

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41




THE TRADE HUB

Jericus, Nuric and Lena

The mention of the Holy Ordos gives pause to the Tech-Priest as he works upon the control panel, and he ceases his ministrations to turn to face the three Acolytes.

His lower face is enclosed in a cybernetic apparatus that seems to function as both a rebreather and a vox-caster, but his all-too human eyes rake across them speculatively.

”Stand down, AX-11034.” He speaks, mechanically-sounding voice loud enough to almost boom across the now-mostly cleared trade hub. At his words, the two Skitarii seem to settle from their tensed postures, lowering their hellguns and withdrawing from their threatening stance.

”I am Engineseer Amiros. What business does the Ordo Hereticus have on Aporia?” The Tech-Priest asks while watching the three intensely.





THE MAINTENANCE CHUTE

Alaric, Qualia and Ralix

The hatch that led into the maintenance lift shaft would likely be less cramped than the current tunnel they found themselves in, though with the power out the lift would be nothing but a potential obstacle to circumvent.

However, the hatch that led into the trade hub would likely put them directly outside the lift itself, and from through the plasteel bulkhead, the Acolytes could hear the artificial lilt of a Tech-Priest speaking through a vox-system to someone about the Ordo Hereticus.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Forgetting the darkness for a moment, Qualia held up her hand as if to quieten Ralix, bringing it down again as she remembered he wouldn't see it. A chill ran up her spine, she hoped from the cold of the environment. She moved closer to Ralix and Alairc, keeping her voice quiet

"Someone just mentioned the Inquisition, either that's the others or something very odd is going on. Either way, appearing in a lift shaft is probably going to hurt our chances, I say we enter the main hub and try to link up"

[Bennosuke]

Alaric is going to try to see if he can get closer to the speech, or if he can find some sort of vent or grate by which he can see the Tech Priest speaking.

[ArendK]

"Heresy?" Jericus answered, as though he wasn't entirely sure how much to divulge.

Jericus sighed dramatically, as though heavily conflicted about his current dilemma. He ran his hand from his cheek to his temple, to his ear and through his hair, subtly flicking the micro-bead to the on position just in case.

"I'm not really supposed to disclose per orders and directive, but in the interests of building trust Engineseer Amiros, I can disclose it's an investigation related towards missing equipment and the possible supplying of arms, munitions, and other equipment to 'subversive' elements within our beloved Imperium of Man who wish to use them for ill means. You are right in that we do look rather mercenary; the goal is to infiltrate the possible heretics in the course of our investigation as guns for hire, determine whether or not the information we received was valid and end the heresy."

"My name is Jericus, and with all due respect Engineseer Amiros, the longer we spend up here discussing it, the more trouble that whatever is down there is going to be able to cause to the station. Our teams SANCTIONED psyker detected something down there causing the problem, so force of arms may not be the only solution to dealing with a potential problem from the Warp. So we ask that you either accept and let us help or decline our offer so we can be on our way to finding a way off the station in case you fail."

Jericus internally cursed as he felt sweat beginning to bead on his brow. He was quick thinking, but he wasn't like Ralix who had charm and talking ability in spades. A third option entered his mind; the Tech-Priests could just turn and waste them here on the street without asking further questions. In the back of his mind, he knew this he realized. That's why he approached with his weapon in his jacket. Tech-priests weren't people of intuition and gut feelings; they were students of logic. Engineseer Amiros likely was running some kind of internal risk calculation based off the small arms that this ragtag group of mercenaries that approached them, weighing whatever knowledge he had about psykers and Warp creatures against the risk of allowing this group claiming to be part of the Inquisition to assist.

Hopefully, Jericus thought, Amiros will take one of the options presented as opposed to making his own.

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

Ralix listens to Qualia, but waits to respond as he hears Jericus' vox message. "That's almost certainly them," he mutters, as he reaches for the hatch. He goes to open it slowly, and as it cracks open, he calls out cautiously through it before opening it completely. "Don't shoot, would you kindly? It's Ralix, and I've got the others with me. And we may need a little help getting down," he remarks as he realizes he has no idea how high up this hatch actually is from the floor in the hub...

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41





THE TRADE HUB

Jericus, Alaric, Nuric, Lena, Qualia and Ralix

Engineseer Amiros eyed Jericus curiously for several long moments after he finished his speech about the nature of their duty and the onus of saving the station before Nuric caught a whisper of movement as the Tech-Priests shoulders slumped in seeming defeat.

”Very well. The Omnissiah will not turn away the servants of the God-Emperor. Not when the Great Enemy wears the skin of the Machine.” Amiros gestures to the control panel. ”We are attempting to find passage down to the Plasma Reactor. We tracked an anomaly from the surface to the station. It arrived via Astropathic transmission. The Astropath in question has been put under quarantine to be interrogated, but the anomaly has compromised the station – as you can see. We do not know what we will find….but I welcome the extra assistance.”

The metal hatch that allowed access to the trade hub from the trade chute groaned open a crack as Ralix stuck his head out to peer up at the small gathering. It appeared that the hatch was actually on ground level, which made getting out a bit easier.

Ralix, Alaric and Qualia found themselves suddenly facing the heated barrels of primed hellguns as the Skitarii turned their attention to the new arrivals. When the Acolytes vouched for the identities of their three companions freshly emerging from the chilled duct, one of the Skitarii actually offered a hand that was clad in fitted leather gauntlets and from the strange shifting beneath the fabric they could tell that his hand was entirely mechanical in nature as he helped them out of the chute.

Meanwhile, Amiros returned to his work and within a short period of time, the large blast doors groaned loudly as the override locks disengaged and they hissed open slowly. Just inside was a large life with a reinforced floor – though the rest of the lift seemed to be entirely metal cage and grating. It really was simply for moving heavy cargo between levels on the station.

The chill that Qualia and the others had felt within the duct was omnipresent within the lift, and a gust of cool, misty air spilled from the lift as the doors slid open. The power inside the lift seemed inconsistent, but at least it seemed that there was some emergency power working inside.

”The plasma reactor is eight levels down, and only two levels above the space elevator.” Amiros stated in an emotionless voice. The two Skitarii took one final look out at the now empty trade hub before stalking into the lift with hellguns at the ready.

[ArendK]

Jericus sighed heavily in relief when Amiros agreed to let them help. And a heart attack quickly returned when Ralix stuck his head out of one of the grates. Thankfully, it didn't take long to convince the tech-priests that they were the rest of the team.

After hearing Amiros' explanation of the situation, Jericus thought for a second. He wasn't aware daemons and the like could travel via Astropathic communication or could possess machines. Admittedly, his knowledge of anything practical to do with the Warp could fit into the empty space in his boot with his foot in it. A thought occurred to him as they were getting situated.

"Qualia, you're our specialist on these matters. Sound like anything you know? Also; if this entity is taking over the functionality of the station, do we really want to get into a big metal box it has control 8 levels in the air?"

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Feeling somewhat relieved to be linked up with the whole team, Qualia started regretting her thoughts as she saw weapons flashed in her face. The incident soon resolved itself, however, and she entered into the lift with the others.

"I've not heard of such a thing, but an Astropathic message moves through the warp, it's entirely possible it picked up a hitchiker along the way. I would have presumed the Astropath in question would have been trained to resist long enough to be...dealt with."

A slight tinge of sadness and regret appeared at the end, almost reflecting on what would one day become her own fate

"If this thing has taken full control, we're already dead, we just haven't figured the when. Our only hope is to move quickly so it can't take full control. The loss of lights earlier I would presume would be part of it's growth."

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

Once he's been helped through the hatch and not shot in the face, Ralix takes a brief moment to bow respectfully to the Techpriest and Skitarii. He also goes to curl his hands together in front of his chest, attempting to make the cogwheel gesture of the Omnissiah to them, as he's seen Techpriests do before. It's not perfect, but hopefully he gets points for trying. "Thank you, honored Mechanicus. I am Ralix Zamir, and my comrades and I are glad to have your assistance. It seems our missions have overlapped - we were on route to meet with the governor in regards to our own investigation, when we ran across the taint of mutation already aboard this station," he says with a scowl, as he follows Engineseer Amiros onto the lift. "I fear it may be part of a larger conspiracy, and I've encountered evidence of Heretek involvement to some degree," he says, glossing over some of the details so the Cogboys don't immediately change their focus to interrogating him. "Once we've dealt with the abomination on this vessel, we'll need to reexamine our priorities. I hate to keep the governor waiting too long, but I suspect your superiors may need to be briefed on some of what we've found, as well..." he muses.


Rolling a Charm check, to see if Ralix's courtesy, brevity, and little cogwheel hand gesture are enough to win some trust, or at least some patience, from the Engineseer. :smallbiggrin:

Charm: [roll0] vs 40

[CrimsonKnight]

Lena had been more than happy to let Jericus take the lead on convincing the Tech-Priest to work together with their group. It would have likely gone much worst if she'd been the one to try negotiating with the red-cloaked metal man. She'd settled for standing silently and forebodingly at Jericus' shoulder while trying to stare down the Skitarii bodyguards. Emphasis on trying anyway, she wasn't sure how effective it was given that she couldn't even see their faces, though between her visors and scarf, Lena's face was almost equally obscured. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the cogboy decided to trust them and repeated it again when the missing half of the group chose that moment to pop out of a floor hatch. While Ralix and Qualia were talking to Jericus and Amiros, Lena turned towards Alaric while flipping her visors up to rest on her forehead.

"Busy day for you guys too, huh? And here I was thinking it wouldn't be getting interesting until we are reaching the surface."

[Sarak]

Palpable relief flooded through Nuric as the team was reunited without the situation igniting. The Techpriest and Skitarii seemed to follow the logic of both teams pooling resources to combat the threat, but you could never be too sure with the Mechanicus involved. After greeting Ralix, Qualia, and Alaric, he settled in to observe the Techpriest at work. Nuric himself had little experience with machinery as complicated as this, but the confidence and speed the Techpriest applied to his work was impressive. Shortly afterwards, the doors to the lift opened, and the teams started pulling into the cargo lift. The air was chill, but not uncomfortable. As he looked around, beginning a quiet but heartening prayer to the God-Emperor loud enough for his comrades to hear, he shivered a bit from the chill. Having spent his life on Hraline, he was used to a deep heat, and thought himself the least used to the cold of their group (especially when measured against an experienced Voider like Qualia!). He'd take a burning furnace room over this quickly cooling station in a heartbeat!

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41



THE MAINTENANCE LIFT
"While our knowledge on the lifecycles of warp-entities is limited, by necessity of course, we do not have any further explanation." The Tech-Priest enters the lift with the Acolytes, and begins to retrieve a large canister and a small length of cable from one of the numerous devices at his waist. He makes his way towards the inner control panel, and begins removing it.

"Heretek involvement, Master Zamir?" Amiros scoffs, the disgusted sound crackling through his vox-caster. "What is the basis of this accusation? If you have charges to levy against the Adeptus Mechanicus, I would indeed say my superiors should hear of this - though I suggest you ensure you have all your facts before you meet them. Magos-Logis Taher is a rather uncompromising individual."

Once the panel is off, Amiros hooks the small cable into an input plug within and begins to fiddle with a small set of controls on the top of the canister. There is an electric hum in the air for a moment - making all the hair on your bodies stand on end. Random nudges against metal cause a small popping spark. A moment later, the two lamps on the top of the cage surrounding the lift flicker on and the locomotion cogitators blink on.

"There. Our passage to the appropriate level should be unhindered now." True to his word, after tucking the canister into the innards he replaces the control panel and sets the appropriate floor command. Moments later, the maintenance lift begins a grinding crawl down into the bowels of the void-station: to sub-level 8, the plasma reactor core.





SUB-LEVEL 8, PLASMA REACTOR CORE

The trip down through the maintenance elevator was slow, taking close to five full minutes to finally meander to a stop. The two Skitarii move to the much lift door - one much smaller than the one to the trade hub - and begin to force it open. While soft, the sound of mechanical servo's straining can be heard from within their robes and carapace armour. After several moments of work, the door emits a deep groan as they force it open wide enough to allow even their bulky frames to easily slip through.

The room beyond seems to be a foyer or central hub of sorts, and an observation area.

One full half of the circular chambers wall was armourglass, looking out from an elevated position over the primary plasma reactor chamber. It was a massive room, filled with rows of cogitator banks and holo-displays. Unlike the rest of the station, it seems that the power is still - at least partially - on, as the displays and the cogitators flicker through sequences of information that are too fast for the human eye to follow. Something about just glancing at the erratic holo-displays made Qualia nauseus - as if looking at something wrong. At the far end of the chamber the colossal pillar-like structure that houses the plasma core pulsed with reddish light through the many observation vents. It reminded Lena of a heart-beat.

There were two primary exits from the room, a door on the far side that is labelled in High Gothic script for core chamber access and a circular set of stairs that led down onto a system of cat-walks suspended over the main chamber. Jericus immediately recognized the advantageous positions from the catwalks to have excellent firing arcs on almost the entirety of the core chamber. The door to the reactor core chamber bore a red light blinking in warning overtop. Next to the warning light, Nuric caught sight of a small inscription on an electrum plaque. It was a small prayer to the God-Emperor for protection.

While not necessarily exact in its nature, the massive factorium-style structure was highly reminiscent of the Forges on Alaric's homeworld, and if the size comparison was anything to go by the amount of raw power in this core was astronomical.

Amiros steps up to the armourglass, flanked by the two Skitarii and grunts in annoyance. "The stairs lead to the maintenance catwalks that span the core and allow access to the central control chamber. The main access...." Amiros points to the door. "Allows down to the primary augery stations and the status displays. While the reactor cannot be started or stopped from down there, it is where we must go if we seek to learn what we are facing."

[Bennosuke]

Alaric followed Ralix’s lead and introduced himself to the Tech Priests when given the opportunity. Though the Tech Priest’s response to Ralix’s statement was less than heartening, Alaric figured perhaps he could help diffuse the situation slightly. “Magos Amiros, we mean no offense nor to accuse the Tech Priests of any wrong doing. Our current concern regards the recent mutations that have occurred with the Dynastic Vessels here on Aporia; most recently being the Velar’s Hope.” Alaric makes the cogwheeled salute of the Omnissiah as he speaks, “Some evidence points to the heretical use of technology, and while there is a little implicating one specific Tech Priests, it is very possible that instead Martian technology has been subverted by another, possibly heretical organization. Because of this, we will hold off on lobbying any accusations, but hope that The Adeptus Mechanicus will be willing to cooperate with us in full, to bring whomever these heretics are to justice.”

(OOC: I’ll make an attempt at charm/blather (Fel 32) as well, just for good measure [roll0] and will use a fate point if I miss since this is important. The reroll is here [roll1]

EDIT: Oh well, was worth the try.)

Later, in conversation with Lena


Lena turned towards Alaric while flipping her visors up to rest on her forehead.

"Busy day for you guys too, huh? And here I was thinking it wouldn't be getting interesting until we are reaching the surface.”

Alaric sighs, dramatically wiping sweat from his brow. “I couldn’t even begin to tell you the half of it,” he says with a grin, “I think we stumbled upon some heretical mutation stuff already. You’d think we’d be better at this stuff by now. What happened with you guys?”

[Lycan 01]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41



THE MAINTENANCE LIFT
"While our knowledge on the lifecycles of warp-entities is limited, by necessity of course, we do not have any further explanation." The Tech-Priest enters the lift with the Acolytes, and begins to retrieve a large canister and a small length of cable from one of the numerous devices at his waist. He makes his way towards the inner control panel, and begins removing it.

"Heretek involvement, Master Zamir?" Amiros scoffs, the disgusted sound crackling through his vox-caster. "What is the basis of this accusation? If you have charges to levy against the Adeptus Mechanicus, I would indeed say my superiors should hear of this - though I suggest you ensure you have all your facts before you meet them. Magos-Logis Taher is a rather uncompromising individual."

Once the panel is off, Amiros hooks the small cable into an input plug within and begins to fiddle with a small set of controls on the top of the canister. There is an electric hum in the air for a moment - making all the hair on your bodies stand on end. Random nudges against metal cause a small popping spark. A moment later, the two lamps on the top of the cage surrounding the lift flicker on and the locomotion cogitators blink on.

"There. Our passage to the appropriate level should be unhindered now." True to his word, after tucking the canister into the innards he replaces the control panel and sets the appropriate floor command. Moments later, the maintenance lift begins a grinding crawl down into the bowels of the void-station: to sub-level 8, the plasma reactor core.


Alaric followed Ralix’s lead and introduced himself to the Tech Priests when given the opportunity. Though the Tech Priest’s response to Ralix’s statement was less than heartening, Alaric figured perhaps he could help diffuse the situation slightly. “Magos Amiros, we mean no offense nor to accuse the Tech Priests of any wrong doing. Our current concern regards the recent mutations that have occurred with the Dynastic Vessels here on Aporia; most recently being the Velar’s Hope.” Alaric makes the cogwheeled salute of the Omnissiah as he speaks, “Some evidence points to the heretical use of technology, and while there is a little implicating one specific Tech Priests, it is very possible that instead Martian technology has been subverted by another, possibly heretical organization. Because of this, we will hold off on lobbying any accusations, but hope that The Adeptus Mechanicus will be willing to cooperate with us in full, to bring whomever these heretics are to justice.”

Ralix Zamir

Before Ralix has a chance to provide a very carefully worded answer and defuse any tension, Alaric makes things much more complicated by blathering more information than he should. Ralix pinches the bridge of his nose in obvious annoyance, before turning to the Techpriest and smiling apologetically. "You'll have to excuse my protege, he gets a bit ahead of himself and tends to ramble a bit when he gets excited. To put it more succinctly - no, I am not accusing your Priesthood on this world of tech-heresy. I did, however, get an oral confession from recidivist that there's a conspiracy involving a highly dangerous Heretek from another world, whom the Inquisition thought dead. I do not have proof that he is actually on this world, or the extent of his potential involvement. But I feel it's a matter that should be brought to the attention of Magos-Logis Taher, because leaving your Priesthood in the dark about such a thing would be foolish and illogical," he says with an astute nod, hoping that taking the more direct, factual, and "logical" approach with the cogboy will help smooth things over and win back a little bit of good will.

Turning his attention to the reactor core and various catwalks and such surrounding them. He glances back at his team, and frowns. "Well, this is less of my expertise. Jericus, do you have any tactical suggestions? Qualia, do you sense anything? Alaric, Lena, get ready to do what you do best. Nuric..." he pauses, looking at the priest for a moment, before smirking. "Considering your effects on Psykers, it stands to reason that your presence would weaken or harm a Warp-entity, yes?" His smirk fades to a somber frown. "I hate to ask this of you, friend, but... would you be willing to take point and lead the way when we head down to see what we're up against? If your presence will actually impact the abomination, it may give us the opening we need to stop it..."


Awareness: [roll0] vs 17

[CrimsonKnight]

]Alaric sighs, dramatically wiping sweat from his brow. “I couldn’t even begin to tell you the half of it,” he says with a grin, “I think we stumbled upon some heretical mutation stuff already. You’d think we’d be better at this stuff by now. What happened with you guys?”

Lena gave a snort of amusement. "Well, the good Brother got to shoot a mutant sea monster while Jericus and I were busy spying on your lunch host's armed muscle. Plenty of the tainted filth all around it seems, and now something even worst waiting for us at the station's bottom. If they're having this much trouble up here with them, how bad has it gotten down below?"

After a tense lift ride down with her bow drawn just in case... whatever was down in the station's depths attempted to ambush them on the confined lift, Lena began a sweep of the room as soon as they arrived with her auspex while paying attention to the others' discussion.

Turning his attention to the reactor core and various catwalks and such surrounding them. He glances back at his team, and frowns. "Well, this is less of my expertise. Jericus, do you have any tactical suggestions? Qualia, do you sense anything? Alaric, Lena, get ready to do what you do best. Nuric..." he pauses, looking at the priest for a moment, before smirking. "Considering your effects on Psykers, it stands to reason that your presence would weaken or harm a Warp-entity, yes?" His smirk fades to a somber frown. "I hate to ask this of you, friend, but... would you be willing to take point and lead the way when we head down to see what we're up against? If your presence will actually impact the abomination, it may give us the opening we need to stop it..."

Lena cocked a head over at the others from where she was scanning. "If Nuric is to be leading us, I will be right there with him. Bad enough you already had to deal with one tainted creature without us there to cover you."

Awareness (w/ Auspex bonus), TN 51
[roll0]

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41





SUB-LEVEL 8, PLASMA REACTOR CORE

Engineseer Amiros takes in the reconcilatory words from Alaric impassively, before giving the young Forge World scum a curt nod. "If there is evidence of Heresy among the Machine God's flock you can rest assured that it will be given all the diligence that protocol dictates. If we find evidence. As for the confession from this...recidivist you spoke of, Master Zamir, if you fear that there are tendrils of corruption from a well-known Heretic that are spreading here then that may be a different matter entirely." The Engineseer looks about the massive chamber, and the ruddy red glow from the reactor vents seems to be readily reflected within the shine of his eyes. It seems he is not as adverse to the notion of heresy in the Machine Cult, so long as the implication was that it came from an outside source.

With the suggestion that Brother Nuric lead the way, Amiros turns back to the Acolytes and gives a brief nod. "I will descend to the primary core access and begin to analyze the data. I fear that none of you have the skills necessary to diagnose the issues with the entity."

As he speaks, Lena lets her gaze wander along the vista spread out before them through the large observation windows. She catches a glimpse of movement out in the shadows cast from the pulsing heart-beat of the reactor. Along the upper catwalk, the slowly lurching form of a servitor drone seems to be making its way slowly towards the observation area they are currently in.
Below, among the cogitator banks, something hunched and whip-fast skitters between the rows of displays and cogitators.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Tentatively stepping through the metal gantries and panels of the reactor level, Qualia felt the overwhelming level of wrongness of the place, a once proud part of the Imperium taken from it's divine purpose

"This place is wrong, Mr Zamir, but beyond that I cannot currently sense anything against the tide of wrongness. I would suggest Nuric uses the full extent of his abilites when the time comes, hurting whatever this thing is is more important than my comfort."

Pulling the las pistol from it's holster, she began following the group, tentatively probing the invisible air around her

Psyniscience check, not looking for anything in particular beyond directions:
[roll0] vs 34

[ArendK]

Jericus cursed quite loudly as he analyzed the situation; of course he didn't have his las-rifle when he REALLY NEEDED IT!. The catwalks would likely give a wonderful means of cross-fire, especially for any automatic weapons in the fray. Unfortunately, his was back in the Lander. He thought through; if the catwalks continued through to the location of the entity while still providing overwatch, that would be ideal unless the target was smaller than your average human or ork. Even with just his las-pistol, it would be best to separate the group into the most ideal functioning components. Jericus withdrew the las-pistol, checked the charge-pack on it and readied it.

"Qualia, I don't know how far away or to what range your abilities can go, but I think getting you away from Brother Nuric might be advisable especially if you can plunk whatever is down there with your abilities and not be affected by Nuric; if you want to take the catwalk and provide overwatch, that might be ideal. Lena, no argument if you want to shadow the Good Brother, as Brother Nuric seems to be a magnet for trouble lately. Ralix, your diverse knowledge set I think would benefit either side in a bind, but I'm inclined to suggest you stay with Engineseer Amiros. Alaric, we could use a another gun up top with your proclivity for getting into you places you shouldn't, it should serve you well if we get into a position we don't want to be."

"Engineseer Amiros, I would hate to presume to tell you or your subordinates what to do, but a firefight is my area of expertise. May I suggest that one of your associates joins us on the catwalk? They would be a welcome source of firepower and be able to assist and guide us around the technology up top."

[Bennosuke]

Alaric grins at Jericus and nods, drawing his pistol. With a hint of admiration as well as teasing, Alaric salutes and says, "Roger that! I will head up to the catwalk with Qualia and take point." Alaric will head up to the catwalk and begin scanning the area.

(OOC: Awareness at 30 [roll0] )

[CrimsonKnight]

Lena suddenly stiffened as she spotted the servitor above them at the same time as her auspex pinged a second fast-moving contact down below amidst the cogitator banks. "Look alive! We are not alone. One of those sev... serv... flesh and metal machine things on the catwalk, and something else down in the pit. Didn't get eyes on it but it's blinding fast."

Lena had replaced her bow and now drawn her jagged-looking sword. Though her bow allowed her to attack at range, it was only useful if she had time to line her shots up properly, and she doubted the speedy thing below would give her the chance. She positioned herself by the door leading below in case the thing decided not to wait for them to come to it. Hopefully the drone at least was still loyal to the Magos.

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

Ralix nods to the Engineseer, and lets the topic of Hereteks drop for now, since it seems to have been amicably settled and there are more pressing matters to attend to.

Listening to Jericus' suggestions, Ralix glances around warily, following the Guardsman's instructions with his gaze. "A sound plan..." he murmurs. "I'm afraid my spheres of knowledge do not extend into either the mysteries of Technology nor entities from Beyond, but I will still try to put together or share what relevant knowledge I can offer. But yes, I think I would be best suited staying with the Honored Engineseer and out of everyone else's line of fire," he says with an aloof smirk.

At Lena's mention of contacts, though, he crouches down and tries to find some sort of cover, hopefully a cogitator bank adjacent to the Engineseer. He checks to make sure his weapon is properly loaded and ready, before peering around for any signs of enemies or dangers.


Moving Ralix into cover as close to the cogboy as possible, then checking the area.

Awareness: [roll0] vs 17

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41





SUB-LEVEL 8, PLASMA REACTOR CORE


There is a presence within the walls and the floor and the vast, vaulted ceiling of the chamber. The heartbeat of baleful red light pulsing within the reactor itself seems to echo into the Immaterium and on the periphery of Qualia’s perception there is the whispering of voices.

The Acolytes appear to be at the epicenter of whatever is plaguing the void-station.


Engineseer Amiros seems to be in agreement, giving a brief nod to the idea of sending one of the Skitarii up to the cat-walks along with some of the Acolytes while the other accompanies him down to the cogitator pit. At the notion that there was a servitor upon the catwalks, Amiros shakes his head and scowls.

”Be vigilant. All servitors were given recall commands an hour ago. There should be none on this level.” He steps to the window that looked out to the catwalks and narrowed his eyes in concentration. A sequence of beeps, clicks and stranger sounds issues from the vox-caster, Amiros seeming to be trying to issue a command to the servitor.

A moment later, the Servitor raises an arm and three loud popping sounds echo through the reactor chamber as it fires at Amiros. Three large metal rivets bounce off the armourglass observation window harmlessly, though they leave a nasty scuff upon the material.

It seems that this particular servitor drone has a large, belt-fed rivet gun appendage. It is likely a maintenance or construction drone.

As Alaric takes point, the Skitarii previously identified as AX-11034 follows quickly after him. The two quickly take the spiral, metal-framed stairwell to the catwalks and immediately the young scum see’s the servitor drone turn towards him with the grinding of servos. At this much closer range, Alaric can see a spread of throbbing tumors and cysts that seem to be growing from the servitor’s flesh – obvious mutations, as even some tumors seem to have somehow grown from the metal parts of the drone as well.

Amiros strides towards the door that leads down to the core chamber, and after quickly overriding the lockdown control of the door, beckons the rest to follow.

”If you are not staying on the catwalks, I do suggest we hurry. Our presence here will be noticed before too long.”

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

"A sound plan, Jericus." Qualia agrees, before continuing "The reactor itself is the heart of it, I can feel it's rhythmic pulse in the Ether. I'd suggest trying to shut it down before destroying it, we don't know the damage it could cause if it drew forth the Warp in it's death throes". With that, Qualia followed Alairc up onto the gantries

-----

The rivet thuds made Qualia jump into cover, better safe than sorry. Once she'd ascertained there was no further danger, she advanced up the stairs to confront the rogue machine, las pistol still firmly in hand. She concentrated on a covered advance, she had nowhere near the protection of their metallic companion.

[roll0]

[ArendK]

Jericus finished directed traffic before following after Alaric and the Skitarii, las-pistol at the ready. Imagine his surprise when he saw the servitor far too close for comfort. He leveled his pistol, aiming before taking the shot.

[roll0] Initiative
[roll1] Ballistics vs 43 (+10 Aim), (+10 Short Range)
[roll2] Energy Damage, 0 Penetration

[Bennosuke]

At such close range, there is no time to take aim. Alaric levels his autopistol with both hands and squeezes the trigger down as the gun releases blast after blast after blast.

Alaric is at short range with the autopistol (half of 30 is 15) and will use full auto: BS 36 +20 for full auto + 10 for short range=66 [roll0]

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

Ralix wordlessly follows along with the Engineseer, doing his best to keep up with him and his Skitarii bodyguard without getting in their way. He keeps his weapon drawn and his eyes open, hoping to avoid any unwelcome surprises and not be caught flat-footed...


Ralix just keeps up with the cogboys, and hopefully keeps out of everyone's way.

Awareness: [roll0] vs 17
Initiative: [roll1]

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41



Jericus slipped onto the catwalk with Qualia, following swiftly on the heels of the Skitarii and Alaric. The ex-Guardsman raised his las-pistol at the same time as the youthful Scum opened up on the Servitor with his own autopistol. The flashes of las-fire and hard pops of the physical projectiles snapped through the air above the pit, each casting their own small echo through the vast chamber that spread out below them. The Servitor seemed untouched by the barrage of fire, likely due to the gloomy lighting and high-stress environment.

The Skitarii narrowly avoids the large-caliber rivet that exploded from the arm-cannon of the Servitor, and fires a single beam of baleful red energy at the Servitor. The air around the beam hisses and pops with the heat and intensity of the hellgun and it strikes the Servitor square in the chest. The beam melts through armoured plates and vat-grown flesh, coring its way straight through the Servitor. There is a moment of hesitation before the Servitor slowly staggers back and topples over the railing of the catwalk, plummeting down into the cogitator pit and smashing into a holo-display with a resounding crash that seems to echo through the core chamber.

When Qualia finally slipped out of the observation area and up onto the catwalks, she saw the Servitor plummet down to the ground – and out of the corner of her eye, she caught more movement. The flitting shapes of two Servo-Skulls, still over two dozen meters away but starting to turn their attention towards the Acolytes. Even further, the hulking shape of another servitor stepped out from behind a cluster of large vents and pipes. This one….this one was different than the first. For example, the weapon affixed to its arm was a belt-fed autogun, and the other arm was deformed and twisted into a massive, three-fingered claw. This one…this was a Combat Servitor.

While Ralix followed the Engineseer and his other Skitarii through the blast door and into a downward sloping hallway that terminated at a large set of heavy blast doors that were already slowly hissing open from the silent command of Amiros. Something skittered through the gloomy shadows just beyond the door. Brother Nuric silently followed the Engineseer and his Skitarii bodyguard down the hallway, along with Ralix. True to her word, Lena was front and center with the Cleric.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

The servitor dropped to the floor, reminding Qualia of the good feeling of travelling with people who were competent with weapons. However, it didn't appear over yet, and the new shapes got Qualia to call to the rest of the group

"Hostiles, two small forward high, one breacher forward!"

She remained in cover, lining up on the servo skulls and leaving the heavier servitor to the bigger guns in the group. Now was not the time for stray fire and missed shots

Full Action: Aim

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

Ralix tries not to flinch at the heavy thunder and crack of weaponfire overhead. At the sight of something skittering around beyond the doorway ahead, Ralix levels his weapon and scowls, stepping abreast from the Techpriest to make sure he has a clear line of fire. "Contact ahead, saw something moving past the doorway I think..." he hisses, trying to make sure he has a shot without hitting Nuric or Lena.


Half action: move alongside Techpriest
Half action: aim towards movement in doorway

[Sarak]

Noticing the prayer on the wall, Brother Nuric uttered it under his breath and made the sign of the Aquila almost unconciously. His eyes returned to the reactor beyond the armourglass. Does it always pulse and ebb like that, I wonder? To his own view, the machines around him seemed a bit off, though with his rustic upbringing he was the least likely to recognize any problems with them.


Ralix Zamir

"Nuric..." he pauses, looking at the priest for a moment, before smirking. "Considering your effects on Psykers, it stands to reason that your presence would weaken or harm a Warp-entity, yes?" His smirk fades to a somber frown. "I hate to ask this of you, friend, but... would you be willing to take point and lead the way when we head down to see what we're up against? If your presence will actually impact the abomination, it may give us the opening we need to stop it..."

"Of course. If we are to serve as His spear this day, then I would be honoured to stand at it's point." Resignation had flitted across Nuric's face, replaced quickly with steeled resolve. He served the Emperor with his faith, and there would always be sacrifice with it. Should he fall today, as long as His enemies perished with him he'd consider it well worth the cost. He took the next few moments to pray, while silently absorbing the battle plans being drawn up around him by those with much more experience in the matter; he had improved in some regards, but aside from a few clever maneuvers in Regicide that Ralix had now seen he was far from a tactician. His nerves were on edge, a feeling that was becoming all too familiar in service to the Inquisition, but he felt settled as Jericus outlined a sound strategy to proceed with. Taking up formation, he felt even better with the young assassin by his side, only slightly unnerved by the speed with which she replaced bow with drawn blade. Looking at his own pistol, then up at the reactor, he holstered the weapon and instead took the small mace from his belt. If I shot that reactor and caused an explosion after the stories Qualia has told, I'm not sure the blast could kill me before she did. The grip of the weapon felt comfortable in his hands; it was one of the few items he'd taken with him from the monastery, and he could only hope that it would serve him well this day.

Once the team for the catwalk had moved away, Nuric reached back to his neck, deactivating his Limiter. With Qualia at a safe distance, and threats of the Warp potentially nearby, there was no need for it now. Not a second later his head whipped around towards the catwalk at the sound of gunfire, and a curse from Alaric. He almost wished he hadn't put his autopistol away, but with the dark and the bad angle he could barely see the shuffling servitor above. A flash of red from the Skitarii left a streak across his vision, and as it cleared he could barely make out the form of the servitor as it came crashing down into a heap atop the ruins of a holo-display. Nuric tightened his grip on his mace, hearing Qualia call out more incoming. His focus shifted to the door looming in front of them as Ralix warned of something beyond; hopefully sparring aboard the Wayfarer had shaken some of the dust off of his ability. He took up position opposite Lena, ready to cover his side or face a threat head on with her, and kept his eyes scanning the room as they entered.


Awareness: [roll0] vs 36 (Perception), watching for threats ahead and around us.

[CrimsonKnight]

Lena kept her guard up as they approached the open blast doors. She forced herself to focus only on what was in front of her and to ignore the sounds of gunshots and lasfire coming from above despite her worry over her companions' status, though the servitor's corpse crashing down ahead of her did earn a slight twitch before she realized what it was. She made sure to keep slightly ahead of Nuric and Ralix where she could physically interpose herself between them and the unknown threat up ahead if it somehow managed to slip by the Magos and his bodyguard who were both hurrying ahead of them.

"Whatever happens, you two stay behind me. I'm all but certain whatever that thing is, it's waiting to charge us."

Lena continued scanning with her auspex, trying to further pin down the unknown contact's location.

Awareness Test w/ Auspex, TN 51
[roll0]

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41





THE CATWALKS

Alaric, Qualia, and Jericus



AX-11034 11
Alaric 10
Qualia 8
Jericus 5
Servo-Skulls 3
Combat Servitor 2



The Servo-Skulls darted in and out of low-hanging pipes, and ventilation ducts as they meandered in a circular fashion to approach the Acolytes upon the catwalks from the side. Qualia's aim was true, and she held a bead on the lead of the two Servo-Skulls as it rounded a massive air intake vent that jutted down from the roof.

Now that they had grown closer, Jericus could see that the Servo-Skulls were tainted as well - the skulls blackened and elongated and deformed, with large curling horns rising from the brow and the power cables that fed into the small las-lock barrels fitted below them seeming to be fleshy and pulsing like the veins and arteries of a living creature.

Ahead, the large bulk of the combat servitor slowly made its way towards the Acolytes. Alaric saw that the three linked barrels of the autogun had begun to slowly rotate as the weapon-limb began to rev up to fire. He realized that there was little to no cover up on these catwalks and if the combat drone began to unload the belt-fed weapon it could saturate the area with high-velocity projectiles.





THE COGITATOR PIT

Nuric, Lena and Ralix

The Acolytes accompanying Engineseer Amiros and his other Skitarii guard strode further down the gradually descending ramp towards the open area of the cogitator pit. As they approached the massively arched blast doors - open though they were - the sprawl of the chamber took on a whole new vastness. The reactor core loomed over them like a bloody minded monolith. Baleful red light causing the row upon row of cogitator banks and holo-displays to cast sweeping shadows across the long chamber.

Whatever movement had been spotted flitting down among the stacked rows of consoles wasn't immediately visible, but the sensation of being watched tickled at the back of Lena's mind as she and Nuric stepped past the doors and into the grand chamber. Amiros made his way swiftly over to the nearest cogitator and attached holo-display. He cast a perfunctory glance at the rapidly flickering sequence of images the holo-display illuminated but did not seem overly concerned as he immediately began to work the controls of the console with deft movements. His mechadendrites rose about him; some helping access the controls faster, while two that were capped with small optical nodes began to swivel about and keep a close eye on his surroundings.

The Skitarii took a position next to the Engineseer, hellgun held at the ready as his trained eyes swept across the room from behind the enclosed helmet and mask.

"Fascinating." Amiros said, vox crackling disturbingly as his voice filtered through it. "The code is not merely corrupt. It is....rewriting itself." His eyes widened as he turned his head to face the ominous pillar that housed the fiery heart of the plasma reaction that gave life to the station.

"It is....alive....by the Omnissiah...." Amiros rasped, seemingly in horrified awe.

For Ralix, the information that was rapidly cascading through the holo-displays seemed to hold secrets both precious and insidious. The fact that the Engineseer paid them barely any heed was a warning to those whose curiosity may get the better of them - but even on the periphery of the Acolyte's vision the data and images displayed caused a roiling nausea to settle in their stomachs.

Nuric, however, seemed unphased by the physical reaction to the images as his deactivated limiter allowed the aura of blankness to seep from him like a cloying shroud. Next to him, Lena felt the effects much less keenly.

From above the sounds of gunfire continued, though the echo was strangely muted as they stood in the shadow of the reactor.

With her heightened senses augmented with the use of her auspex, Lena caught movement in the deep recesses between two banks of cogitators running parallel to where Amiros was working.

Five humanoid things, squatting low to the floor with long, gangly limbs of tight corded muscle, they scuttled forward. Their skin was pallid, greying, like the underbelly of some noisome corpse. Their eyes were sunken, and their lips had receded leaving their crooked, jagged teeth exposed. Sparse black hair rested upon their oblong heads, and their finger and toenails were black and hard like steel.

The foremost of the creatures hissed at Lena, black spittle flying from its gnashing maw as a long, sinuous tongue flicked forward like that of a serpent.



The Things 13
Skitarii Red-Shirt 12
Nuric 10
Lena 10
Amiros 7
Ralix 4

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

Ralix averted his gaze from the screens. He felt a gnawing sense of curiosity and wander, an almost uncanny inquisitiveness that was stronger than normal for himself. He knew it wasn't him feeling the hunger for knowledge, though, but rather the tainted information almost trying to reach to him itself. Tempting him...

"Keep your eyes off the screens," he grunts to his comrades, voice barely audible over the hum and thump of the reactor's "heartbeat." "This tainted code is the work of the Enemy, and it seeks to undo us in whatever way it can."

He glances at Amiros. "Amiros!" he hisses sharply, trying to draw the Techpriest out of his shocked awe and possible moment of weakness. "Keep up your guard! Don't believe whatever lies or temptations it tries to seduce you with, just purge it in the name of the Omnissiah! My team while try to buy you time!" he growls with fervor and determination.


Holding my actions for the moment, since Ralix goes last anyway and I figure I'll wait 'til Lena reacts before he notices/acknowledges the critters. :smallwink:

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

The key to being a good officer is to keep your head while everyone around you loses theirs

The words echoed through Qualia's head as she kept her aim, before carefully squeezing the trigger and firing at one of the servo skulls. The shot appeared to connect, but she was already beginning to line up her next shot rather than notice

Half action: Attack one of the servo skulls [roll0] vs 43 (33 base + 20 aim + 10 half range - 20 size modifier)

Damage: [roll1] E Damage

29/30 shots remaining

Half action: Aim

[CrimsonKnight]

Lena shuddered as she obeyed Ralix's command and averted her gaze from the displays. Though she could not read any of the words (and was devoutly grateful for that fact if her more educated companions' reactions were anything to go by), their mere appearance coupled with the almost heartbeat-like pulsing red light of the plasma core was enough for her to know that fell forces were at work here. She was relieved when Nuric disabled his limiter. Compared to the unsettling sensations she'd been feeling a moment ago, the blank nothingness of his aura was comforting for once.

Her auspex beeped a warning, and Lena whipped her head towards where the device had indicated a moving object. No, multiple objects, she realized looking at the fuzzy display. "Think I found them, they're two rows over! Four, maybe five of them, and I think they're... oh."

Lena's voice failed her as she got her first good view of the mutants. After a moment, she called to them in a low voice with barely suppressed fury. "Mutant filth... you shall be purged."

Lena made no move to charge them. She didn't fancy 5 on 1 odds if she could help it and she still had Ralix and Nuric behind her to worry about. Instead, she grabbed one of her knives while keeping her sword readied in her off-hand, then flung the small blade at the nearest of the freaks in case she hadn't already gotten its attention.

Half Action: Draw Throwing Knife
Half Action: Ranged Attack, TN 32 (not including any ranged modifiers from the knife's 5m effective range)
[roll0]
Damage, Pen 0 Rending (Tearing special quality, so I can keep the better roll)
[roll1]
[roll2]
Edit: Wow, attack AND damage rolls were uniformly awful.

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41



THE CATWALK

Jericus, Qualia and Alaric

With speed and efficiency derived from uncounted hours of training and augmented by the blessings of the Machine God, the Skitarii known as AX-11034 raises his Hellgun, takes a moment to draw a bead and prepares to fire once again. There is no luck when it comes to the Omnissiah, and it seems that AX-11034 was a prime example of that. The rotary autogun-limb of the combat servitor roars to life, spitting a hail of shots at the Skitarii. The sudden onslaught throws his aim off, and the searing red las-shot from his hellgun goes wide, striking a large ventilation pipe and scattering slagged metal and a shower of sparks everywhere. The two rounds from the autogun strike the Skitarii in his left arm, and a third slams into the carapace on his chest. Each round tears into the carapace armour, cracking the surface. While the armour saved him from deep penetrating strikes, each was enough to draw blood and AX-11034 staggers back with unguents, oils and fresh blood spilling from his arm and his chest. The Skitarii drops to one knee next to Alaric, breathing heavily from behind the fully-enclosed helmet and mask.

To her credit, the constant drills with her lasgun has served Qualia well. The Psyker’s aim was true and a swift flash of red light strikes the servo-skull square between the eyes, causing the skull to quite literally pop with a sudden eruption of super-heated brain matter and other foul fluids.

The last remaining servo-skull fires at Jericus, but the former Guardsman throws himself out of the way to avoid the attack. The needle-thin beam carves a small path through the catwalk behind him, leaving a glowing line of slagged metal in its wake.





THE COGITATOR PIT

Nuric, Lena and Ralix

Amiros continues to work, barely registering Lena’s call of mutants. It seems that Ralix’s warning about the Heretical nature of the flickering holo-displays was enough to rouse his focus to the task at hand. His Skitarii bodyguard however, does heed the Assassin’s warning and immediately turns to face the cluster of mutants. He raises his hellgun and fires once, the beam searing through corrupted flesh and dropping the creature to the floor with a smoking hole in its breastbone. One of the mutants lunges at the Skitarii, jagged teeth gnashing and claws seeking to rend – but the Skitarii sidesteps the attack and steps back to put some more range between him and the wiry form of the mutant.

Ralix recognizes the creatures from a treatise he read once in his youth – a book of lore based upon the horrors of prolonged void-travel. The thing was a Ghilliam. Once human, the mutant is a degenerate verminous creature. One of many that dwell in the deep, dark holds of most void-ships and void-stations. They prey upon the flesh of whatever they can catch for sustenance. Whatever dark presence has taken refuge in the reactor core has drawn the Ghilliam to it like flies to a carcass.

Another of the Ghilliam surges forward, seeking to tear into Lena’s flesh but the thing overshot it’s leaping lunge, and clattered into a holo-display after sailing over the nimble assassin.

Nuric was close enough to Lena that he felt the passage of air past the assassin as the Ghilliam sailed overhead.

[Bennosuke]

(OOC: Sorry for being a little MIA. I hope things get a little smoother with work soon. Still pulling very long hours with a longer commute right now, but I hope I will develop a new rhythm soon. Thank you for the patience).

Alaric’s eyes go wide. This was NOT good. Too many contacts, too close, and not enough ammo. Gritting his teeth, he yells to Jericus, “We’ve got to end this now!” before leveling his autopistol and drawing hard on the trigger.

Going full auto again, targeting the combat servitor. BS 36 +20 for full auto. No idea what the distance is so will hold off on a modifier and damage roll. [roll0] Hoping I haven’t used up all of my blessings from The Emperor yet.

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

As she'd thought, her target dropped like a stone, but her companions hadn't been quite so successful. With their augmented escort seemingly flagging, she needed to even the odds more than a single las pistol could manage.

"Everyone, get close to me, I intend to obscure us from it's sight"

She shouted above the rattle of the engagement, before clutching her rank insignia and opening herself up to the warp, hoping her proximity to the beast below wouldn't endanger her more than normal. The insignia quickly iced up, as her eyes closed and her head jerked back

Full Action: Psychic power - White Noise
[roll0] vs 8
Fate reroll if bad things (I'd rather fail than get phenomena)
[roll1] vs 8

Intending to either get the enemies to pass a test to see us (since I'm presuming at least the servo skull is using technological means to see), or for them to get a penalty to shoot at us. I'm not fussy :smallbiggrin:

[CrimsonKnight]

Lena gritted her teeth as her blade sailed past the ghilliam's head, though it did cause it to flinch momentarily and so misjudge the distance as it lunged at her. She took a moment to line her blade up before slicing across its body with a wordless shout.

Half Action: Aim
Half Action: Standard Attack, TN 46 (56 if Nuric is close enough to give me a Ganging Up bonus)
[roll0]
Damage (w/ Tearing extra roll)
[roll1]
[roll2]

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

"Ghilliam," Ralix hisses through grit teeth, giving the mutants a look of utter revulsion over his shoulder. "Void crewmen fallen into mutation and cannibalism. I suppose on a station this size, it wouldn't be surprising if a few lurked in the shadows, and this thing seems to have called to them like a beacon..."

Turning to level his pistol, he takes aim at the Ghilliam that had just lunged at Lena. Drawing a bead on it, he makes a quick mental checklist of everything he'd learned over the last few months under the watchful eyes of Commander Roth, Jericus, Alaric, and everyone else who had tried to teach him the ways of war. Firm grip, tense wrist, center of mass, both eyes open, lean into the recoil...

THOOM

The revolver thunders loudly in the close confines of the cogitator banks, leaving Ralix's ears slightly ringing, and hopefully leaving the Ghilliam with a mortal wound.


Half Action to Aim, half action to attack with stub revolver. If the Ghilliam is already dead before Ralix's turn in initiative, he'll target and attack the next nearest mutant instead.

Single Attack: [roll0] vs 41 (BS 31 +10 Aim)
Damage: [roll1]

[Sarak]

Nuric narrowed his eyes at Lena's called targets, revulsion building inside him. His entire life had seen service to the God-Emperor, countless hours spent swearing himself to the care of the faithful and the destruction of the Alien, Heretic and Mutant. At the sight of them up close, he couldn't fight the hatred inside. So focused on these feelings roiling inside him that he couldn't react in time when the first of the creatures flung itself at the assassin by his side, narrowly missing her. In the second that followed his teammates turned on the thing, seeming to wound it mortally between Lena's blade and Ralix's deafening shot. The monk tightened his grip on his mace and coiled it for a strike at the next mutant to approach, recalling hours spent in drill back at the monastery and more recently in transit in the Warp. Purge the Unclean, the thought coming unbidden but not unwelcome in his mind.

Half Action: Aim
Half Action: Standard Attack, [roll0] vs 41 (51 if Ganging Up with 2-to-1 odds, 61 if Ganging Up with 3-to-1 odds)
Damage: [roll1]

Parry (if needed): [roll2] vs 21 (31 -10 (Unwieldy))

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41





THE CATWALK

Jericus, Qualia and Alaric

AX-11034 struggled to push up off the deck, hellgun held limply in his hand as – with labored breaths – he strained to right himself.

Next to him, the young biker scum Alaric opened up with his autopistol. The rapid-fire chatter of the weapon roared across the open expanse of the catwalks and struck the combat servitor with the spray of bullets. Three rounds struck the drone in the body, and two in the arms. A final round struck it in the head. Most of the rounds seemed to deflect harmlessly off the augmetic armour that was grafted into the servitor’s mutated flesh, but some of them penetrated and began to spill thick, oily unguents from the wounds.

The rotary cannon began to wind up for another burst of fire, when suddenly there was a tangible sensation of static that invasively filled the minds of everyone on the catwalk. The combat servitor seemed to sway under the psychic onslaught, and the servo-skull even dipped in its flight as if suddenly blinded. It began to flit about in an ever widening circle as it sought the targets it could no longer sense.

The combat servitor, to its credit, began to lumber even closer to where the Acolytes had been last seen.

Qualia had manifested the first visible sign of her connection to the Warp, and it had effectively shrouded them from its sight.





THE COGITATOR PIT

Ralix, Lena and Nuric

Chaos had erupted in the cogitator pit. Engineseer Amiros focused steadfastly on the task at hand, mechadendrites and fingers moving swiftly across the controls of the cogitator banks while the Ghilliam attacked all around him.

One of the mutants lunged towards the Skitarii, but the heavily augmented soldier managed to deftly avoid the attack before dancing back several yards and firing at the Ghilliam with his hellgun. The crimson bolt of light struck the mutant, cooking its corrupted flesh and dropping it to the cold floor.

The Ghilliam that had engaged Lena tried to tear at her with hard, blackened claws but the assassin was too quick and easily avoided the blow. The sudden change in position, however, caused her own swing of her blade to cleave through the air instead of the mutant.

When another Ghilliam sought to tear the flesh of Brother Nuric with broken, jagged teeth, the Cleric fended it off with a powerful swing of his own weapon, though the beast avoided the blow itself.

The last of the Ghilliam to engage sprinted across the way towards the group, wailing a wretchedly ear-splitting cry. The cry, and the mutant, were stopped rather abruptly as its head erupted in a blossom of gore – Ralix’s revolver putting a solid slug round directly through the mutants left eye.

[CrimsonKnight]

The damned thing was fast. Lena had been expecting it, but it was frustrating nonetheless that she couldn't land a hit on it even though she'd avoided all of its blows in turn. Fortunately, from the corner of her eye she could see the Skitarii methodically gunning down every mutant with its oversized lasgun that dared to approach the Magos, and even Ralix managed to headshot another, while Nuric and her had the rest occupied in melee. She decided to skip caution and swung at the freak with a heavy overhanded blow.

Full Action: All-Out Attack, TN 56 (66 if I get the Ganging Up bonus)
[roll0]
Damage, Pen 2 Rending
[roll1]
[roll2]

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

Ralix is almost surprised when the creature is felled by a direct hit. He had been aiming for its chest, but it seems the recoil had brought his aim a bit higher than expected. Still, it was a clean kill. One less foe, and one step closer to accomplishing the mission.

He quickly glances around and sees Nuric and Lena both engaged with mutants. He grimaces, knowing that firing on those foes would put his comrades at risk. He knows Lena is skilled in close combat, and should fell her foe in the next few heartbeats. Nuric, then, would be the one to aid...

"The Emperor is with us!" Ralix barks, as his feet carry him forward. "Let no mutant, machine, or monster stand in our way!" he bellows to his comrades, and to the mutants attacking them. Running into the fray, he charges at the mutant hounding Nuric, trying to flank and distract it. As he closes the distance, he brings his revolver up, before firing from the hip as he's within arm's reach of the mutant. Dangerously close for himself, but less risk to Nuric or Lena if he misses, and if the mutant is still standing, Nuric can hopefully get in a clean hit himself.


Half action: Move into melee with Nuric's mutant friend
Half action: Attack with pistol in close combat

Attack: [roll0] vs 31 (BS 31, no bonus for range, maybe +10 for 2-to-1 close combat?)
Damage: [roll1]

[ArendK]

Jericus took a quick glance below; Lena and the others seemed to draw the lucky straw and got a mutie. At least it wasn't this thrice accursed servitor.

The return fire from the servitor on the catwalk was distressing, reaching a "Pucker Factor of about 8" as his old unit would have put it. And now more than ever Jericus wishes he hadn't left his rifle on the Lander. He made a mental note that circumstances be damned, that thing was never leaving his side again.

"Bring these things down and fast!" he roared over the fire of the various guns going off. He didn't expect to be heard, but in case anyone missed the memo.

In spite of all the fire, he lined up his shot and hoped this time his mark would strike true.

Aim Action
Fire

[roll0] vs Ballistics 43 + (10 Aim) + (10 Short Range) =63
[roll1] Energy Damage, Penetration of a whopping 0

Righteous Fury rolled in OOC, rolled a 9, can't remember if the +2 from the las pistol is added to that again or not. So final damage 21 or 23 (if it is added)

[Sarak]

Knowing that Lena could handle herself much better than either Ralix or himself, Brother Nuric maneuvered to keep his own opponent's focus on himself while keeping himself out of the line of fire. He was no stranger to martial practice, but this was a far cry from what he had effectively played at all of his life; it took considerable effort on his part to get a feel for the flow of the melee, and it was all he could do to fend off the mutant's wild swings. He harried it as best he could, trying to keep it pinned down and distracted so that Ralix's arrival might deliver an opportunity to at least one of them. Nuric hoped nothing else lurked in the shadows nearby; between the detestable creature in front of him and the deafening gunfire from the catwalk above, he'd had no chance to steal a glance around their party.


Half Action: Aim
Half Action: Standard Attack, [roll0] vs 51 (31 WS + 10 Aim + 10 Ganging Up)
NOTE: Forgot to roll damage, not used to hitting anything. Tossed a roll of 11 total into OOC.

Reaction: Parry, [roll1] vs 21 (31 WS - 10 Unwieldy)

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
3.334.982.M41




THE CATWALK
Jericus, Qualia and Alaric

Upon the catwalk, the Acolytes remained invisible to the sensory auspex of the servitors by way of the crackling psychic noise that was pouring in from the Warp.

With precision derived from countless hours of practice and experience, Jericu's las-pistol flashed once. A single bolt of light that struck the combat servitor in the center of the chest, melting armour and flesh. There is a moment of stillness, the steady plodding of the combat servitor continuing down the catwalk towards the shrouded Acolytes. It made it barely six steps, before a bright flash of something igniting within the servitor accompanied a loud popping and sizzling. Moments later fire began to pour from within the burned and blackened hole in its chest. It was swiftly consumed in the raging flames, as the fleshy parts of the servitor began to run like wax and burning oil-laced blood streaming from its eyes. The servitor took two more steps, before simply falling over into a reeking pile of superheated metal and burned flesh.

Having returned to his feet and his senses after the injuries sustained during the combat servitor's last barrage, AX-11034 turned his hellgun on the blindly flitting form of the servo-skull. A single shot. As if to not be stood up by the efficiency of the Imperial Guard, the Skitarii's shot burned a channel through the center of the servo skull. With smoke billowing from the wound, the skull fell to clatter loudly across the pit floor far below.





THE COGITATOR PIT
Lena, Nuric and Ralix

Hunched low to the floor, the gangly limbed Ghilliam screeched at the charging Ralix. The Adept's shot going wide, causing the mutant to hop back before lunging forward once more to try and get within the reach of the Cleric's weapon. But Nuric was faster, and avoided the lunging mutant with one wide step back. The momentum carried the mutant right past the Cleric, who wound up and brought his hammer down on its right shoulder in a meteoric blow. The blow drove the Ghilliam down into the thick armoured floorplates, its arm torn from the body with a decimated shoulder and the ripping of muscles. Blood erupted from the wound, soaking the floor in a rapidly expanding spread of gore.

Nearby, Lena swung her blade in a wicked ark, seeking to dismember the mutant that was deftly darting just outside of the assassins reach. This creature was frighteningly nimble and fast on its feet. In the wake of her blow, the mutant tried to leap up and rend her flesh - but the harsh training of her youth allowed the assassin to move just as effortlessly, as she gracefully avoided the raking claws.

Behind them, the Skitarii quickly returned to stand at the side of the Engineseer. He held his hellgun up and swept his gaze back and forth down the aisles of cogitators looking for new threats.

Amiros suddenly yelled in surprise, as a shower of sparks erupted from the cogitator before him. He stumbled back with heavy footfalls, and groaned as wisps of smoke rose from the old machine. The flickering images that were flashing across all the holo-displays suddenly stopped upon a singular image. It was mirrored a hundred times over, upon ever display in the cogitator pit.

The image was hard not to look at. It took conscious effort to not turn ones gaze upon the sign. It drew the eye like a black hole, a slow and infinitely powerful pull.

[Bennosuke]

Eyes wide, gun still trained on the burning corpse of the servitor, Alaric turns to Jericus and Qualia and says, “Nice friggin’ shooting.” He moves cautiously to AX-11034 and examines the Skitarrii’s wounds momentarily. (OOC: And assuming it would be appropriate, because I am not 100% confident on this aspect of 40k lore) Alaric asks the Tech-Guard, “Are you capable of continuing the fight?”

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

As their enemies dropped to the floor in a pile of expert marksmanship, Qualia pulled her defenses back up, the effects of the warp that had hidden them dissipating. Her hand shot out, grabbing onto a nearby railing to hold herself up as she recovered her strength. They were secure, for now, but the enemies of man waited for no-one

"We should keep moving as soon as we can. We don't know how much longer this other will take in securing the machines of this facility"

[Bennosuke]

“Sounds good”, Alaric responds, “let’s keep moving.” He keeps his weapon drawn and with the group carries on.

Awareness roll just to see if it helps at Perception 30 [roll0]

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

"Amiros!" Ralix yells to the Techpriest as he hears the commotion, seeing the shower of sparks and staggering cogboy out of the corner of his vision. He snarls in frustration at the ghilliam, trying to avoid its claws and let Nuric take another swing at it. If the Cleric fails to bring the monster down, though, Ralix lunges in a bit closer to fire from the hip hopefully put a round into the thing's gut. Once the creature is down, assuming it goes down from their combined efforts, he will hastily make his way over to the cogboy and try to assist him if at all possible.

As for the image on the screen, Ralix averts his gaze as soon as he sees the holo-displays begin to flicker and change. He knows enough occultism that strange iconography can be, at best, cause distracting headaches, nausea, or other issues. At worse, it could have some sort of direct impact, worming into the viewer's psyche or physically corrupting them. As he struggles to keep his eyes off the screens, he worries for his comrades, and hopes that the Techpriest and Skitarii are more well-trained and mentally fortified to handle such techno-heresy. "Keep your eyes off the screens!" Ralix snarls through grit teeth, hopefully rousing Lena and Nuric from any potential enticement the imagery has upon them. "Amiros, keep doing whatever it is you're doing! It's clearly fighting back against you, so you're on the right track!" he urges Techpriest on, trying to rally him and bolster his mind and will against whatever attacks - or temptations - the abomination may throw his way.


Half Action: Attack
Half Action: IF the ghilliam is down, move to Amiros.

(If the ghilliam is down before Ralix's turn, Ralix will spend his whole turn moving to Amiros and trying to assist him if possible.)

Attack: [roll0] vs 41 (BS 31, +10 two-vs-one)
Damage: [roll1]
(Righteous Fury if applicable: [roll2])

[Sarak]

Nuric stomped once on the creature before him to make sure it had gone down for good, hardly even noticing the slight spray of vile mutant blood that had reached his cheek and neck. He looked up to Ralix wordlessly, nodding his gratitude for the distraction that had led to his opening. Rallying, he turned to move to assist Lena and potentially provide the same when he caught the tainted image popping up on all of the displays around them out of the corner of his eye. He quickly averted his gaze as Ralix's warning reached his ears. "Horrors of the Warp! The vision of such could grant our enemy more avenues of attack than merely the flesh!" He stole a glance at the Skitarii and the Engineseer to ensure that they heeded the warning, then rushed to the hated mutant opposite Lena and attempted to club the creature down or force it to awkward position for her strike.


Half Action: Move
Half Action: Standard Attack, [roll0] vs 41 (31 WS + 10 Ganging Up)
Damage: [roll1]

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
334.982.M41




THE CATWALKS

Alaric, Jericus, and Qualia

With no further threats in view, and the Acolytes below mopping up the last of the pack of mutants that had scuttled out of the deep shadows of the pit, it left those on the catwalks unhindered.

As Alaric approached AX-11034, the Skitarii was busy pulling a small capsule from his belt and securing it into a hypodermic needle. The scum had seen things like this before. It was a fast-acting stimulant. While the Mechanicus would likely have much higher quality doses, the stuff that Alaric had seen peddled in the dank and dirty alleyways of his home were incredibly potent, but they would burn out very quickly.

As he approached, the Skitarii injected himself directly into his neck with a small hiss of pain escaping his vox, and then nodded. ”We are capable of performing our duties to the Engineseer still.” That was the only response he got, before AX-11034 checked the power cable connection of his hellgun and began making his way down the catwalk to the control room.

Qualia seemed to regain her strength readily enough after the exertion of her psychic powers, but she felt as if something was paying much closer attention to her. Like she was being watched.

With Jericus bringing up the rear, eyes sharp for further contacts, the Acolytes approached the control room. When they got within a half-dozen meters, they realized the door was open. It shouldn’t have been, but it was – wedged open with some unidentifiable mass jammed into the tracks the door slid upon.

The coppery tang of fresh blood was heavy from the room and there was an strange sound coming from within. Tearing and gnawing. Maybe some slurping.





THE COGITATOR PIT

Ralix, Nuric and Lena

The final Ghilliam was ferociously seeking to put some distance between it, and the deadly strikes of what was supposed to be an easy meal. The heavy, crushing hammer of Brother Nuric was avoided , but the mutant seemed like it had enough, and leapt to attack Lena once more, slipping under the Assassin’s scything attack and swung tough, blackened claws at her. Lena was quick, but the disorienting motions of the mutant combined with the heretical images that had blossomed onto each of the holo-displays were throwing her off. The wicked claws snagged the assassin near her hairline, drawing a line of blood along her pale flesh.

A moment later, the sound of another gunshot echoed in the chamber and the Ghilliam recoiled Ralix’ shot struck the mutant in the stomach.

Meanwhile, Amiros surges back to the cogitator and begins to frantically work through the controls to the best of his abilitiy – avoiding the occasional shower of sparks and pulses of electrical discharge.

”Obscenity! Heresy!” Amiros shouts through his vox. ”I cannot purge the data archives! We have but two alternatives. Reboot the primary cogitator memory cores in there.” Amiros gestures to a small, and claustrophobically narrow network of tunnels that run beneath the cogitator pit they’re currently in.

”Or, we can begin an emergency venting of the plasma reactor and shut it down.” Neither option seem particularly pleasant.


I'm going to be doing most of my rolls in the OOC thread for simplicity. As you can see, I'll edit to include the results of rolls. For example, the damage Lena took from the claw.

On that note, I just wanted to confirm that Lena doesn't have head armour. Sheet says flak cloak covering all slots but a cloak is just the body, if I'm not mistaken. If she's wearing a flak helmet and I'm just blind, then she soaks the whole 5 and takes nothing. CrimsonKnight please advise. I'll edit the IC post if I need to.

Thanks!

[Bennosuke]

Alaric looked back to the others nervously, and cautiously approached. If he could, he would attempt to avoid detection to get close enough to see what was making the noises.

Not sure if my successful awareness post from right before would help in some way. If not I guess I will have to roll stealth unskilled. Sorry guys if I botch this (likely), though I assume otherwise we wouldn't have the drop anyways and combat would proceed as normal. Dex 42 with stealth at 21 [roll0]

Edit: Oh well, unless that awareness roll prevented the need for a stealth check it looks like Alaric certainly didn't help things. Note to self; get stealth skill ASAP

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Walking behind Alairc, Qualia kept her weapon drawn and aimed. Given the carnage about, she could presume the flesh to be a dead tech adept or similar, caught at their posting when everything went down. She did her best to shut her mind, stem the tide of whatever was in the air, however she presumed if it wanted her, there was little she could do, except ensure someone was always behind her.

[Lycan 01]

Ralix Zamir

Ralix grimaces at those options. He glances over at Lena, and frowns. "Are you well?" he asks with concern. He then looks back at Amiros. "I think purging the cogitators may be our best bet. It seems whatever we're facing is hiding in the systems themselves. Venting the plasma core would, I assume, mean no power for the station. Which I'm guessing would lead to it falling. Our Psyker said that letting the station fall or explode would mean the Thing would be loosed upon the world below, so I say we avoid that option and focus on purging it at its source," he frowns grimly.

[CrimsonKnight]

Lena flinched and closed her eyes as she mistimed her dodge and the thing's claws lunged for her head. After a moment, when there was no sensation of tearing pain to her scalp, she opened her eyes to notice the claws had gotten stuck on the flak weave of her cloak's hood and could do little other than push a few strands of her hair around. With a muttered curse in her tribal dialect, she kicked the mutant back and thrust at its chest, finally managed to score a blow on it and draw some of its disgusting-looking blood.

"I'm fine, Ralix. We'll finish this thing off, just help the Magos do whatever the hell is needing doing."
Full Action: All-Out Attack. Rolls in OOC thread. Hit, 5 damage Rending with Pen 2 to the Body.

[Erulasto]

APORIAN TRADE DEPOT VOID-STATION
334.982.M41





THE CONTROL ROOM

Jericus, Qualia and Alaric

There were strange sounds coming from within the control room that seemed foreign to the Acolytes. However, Alaric had heard something once, long ago. He had stumbled upon the aftermath of a purge of the lower levels of the Forge World of his birth. It had been implemented by the Mechanicus enforcers, to round up those of able body to process into new servitors and to scour the forge world of those who were tainted. When he had come upon the gruesome scene, he had seen several wasted scavengers feasting on what scraps of flesh were left in the alleys that had been piled high with corpses.

Something was eating within. Messily. Noisily.

AX-11034 breached the door first, a grunt of disgust sounding through his mask, but there was no weapons fire. Whatever he saw, it was not enough to discharge his weapon.

With his lack of aggression, it was clear to the others that perhaps entering was an acceptable course of action.

The control room itself was a wide, but shallow room that butted against the core chamber of the reactor, and the entire far wall from their entrance was a heavily reinforced observation bay that looked directly into the churning plasma reaction contained within. The plasma wash was pulsing with streaks of red and a flicker of black – shapeless and formless – hung in the center of the blindingly bright reaction.

The outer walls of the control room were covered in cogitators and displays showing the status of the reactor, and a singular table stood in the center of the room with the primary control banks and display. All across the room there were bodies. Most of them were dressed in the garb of low-rank Mechanicus adepts. The ratings that were in charge of overseeing the reactors day-to-day functions. A couple were dressed in the flak vests of station security personnel. One, however, was dressed in carapace armour that was painted a deep midnight blue. He wore a black mesh cloak pinned upon the pauldrons, and a scuffed white wolf’s head motif was painted upon the left portion of his breastplate. A heavy knife had been plunged into the soft area around his throat where his helm met an armoured collar and it looked as if he had bled out. All the others appeared to have been shot by the rifle cradled in his arms and partially obscured by the cloak that had become tangled about him as he fell, dying.

The strange chewing sounds were coming from a small maintenance servitor that appeared to be designed to clean up and dispose of organic matter. Instead of the strange grinder that had been installed in its abdomen – which fed its contents into a large, heavy canister that was attached to its back – it had changed like the other servitors the Acolytes had seen. It was a maw with gnashing teeth that it was busy funneling body parts into.





THE COGITATOR PIT

Nuric, Lena and Ralix

The Ghilliam barely had time to register the boot to the chest from the assassin it had failed to wound with its claws, when a length of mono-edged steel carved into its corrupted flesh. Lena’s sword tore into its collarbone, shearing through bone and muscle and organs until it finally came to a stop buried in the mutant’s hipbone. It’s torso slowly split in twain, pilling gore across the blood-slicked floor and toppled to the ground even as the assassin pulled her blade free.

Despite the heretical images displayed pulling at the corners of the Acolyte’s perception, and the maddening pulse of the red light within the reactor, a stillness had fallen across the cogitator pit. It was as if the station itself was holding its breath with anticipation.

At Ralix’ suggestion of purging the cogitators, Amiros nodded slowly. ”It will be difficult. We must enter the crawlspaces beneath the pit and find the memory cores. I fear what other strange things will be encountered in the darkness there.”

There was an abrupt change in atmosphere within the cogitator pit as Amiros finished speaking. The air seemed charged with the energy of pure possibility. Upon the holo-displays, the mind-bending images suddenly flickered again as the red glow from the reactor suddenly faded, plunging the pit into deeper swaths of darkness.

Upon the displays, a new image replaced the heresies that had been plaguing them. It was the face of an older man with a face heavily lined from age and a full beard and mustache. His left eye seemed to have been replaced with high-quality augmetics, but the skin around it was raw and scarred looking. Beneath his human eye, a tattoo of a stylized rosette was marked upon the flesh.

When the man’s image moved its mouth, the voice stuttered through vox-casters upon a dozen or more cogitators.

”I..I…I..IIIIIII…I am….tttthe…bbbbbearer of the…..S..Spear of Ar..Arcand….the…the..Scion offffff….Daxos andddd…the H..H…Hunter of….O…O…Oah. Y..you muuuuust…not…ccccease the….r…ree….rebirth.”

[qechua]

Imperial Psyker Qualia Mithras

Entering the room gave Qualia somewhat of a shock. She'd heard of vessels that 'recycled' the crew such, particularly Rogue Traders, but had never seen one up close. She pointed to the servitor

"That one looks to have been damaged like the others, we should probably destroy it to save the corruption spreading. We also need to figure out how to stop what's going on here from those controls."

[ArendK]

"I think this wins the award for 'most disturbing drek I'll see all day'. Which is impressive. Still doesn't hold a candle to that mutated fish smell though." Jericus leveled his pistol at the weird creature, taking his time to line up the shot. If AX had any objections, he had ample time to call him off. His finger wrapped around the trigger as he looked down the sights at the living meat grinder of a machine.

The scattering of weapons and the armor caught Jericus' eye. His time on Tranch taught him the value of on-site procurement of supplies. He gave a quick glance looking at the types of weapons and making a quick mental inventory. There would be time to be more thorough soon.

Two Aim Actions, I'll fire start of next round assuming I'm not interrupted. For sake of simplicity, the rolls will be below just in case.

[roll0] vs. 63 (43+20 Aim)
[roll1] Energy 0 Penetration

[Bennosuke]

Alaric's face screws up for just a moment, then relaxes. "Things have really gone towards The Eye here!" He looks over to the controls, then back to Qualia and says, "I'm not sure how much help I'll be with those."

Alaric will also survey the dead, looking for any ammunition for his pistol, before stopping at the figure in Carapace armor and rummaging for any evidence regarding the person's identity. He also says to the group, "This guy looks important. Any idea who he may have been?"

(OOC: Not sure what rolls would be needed to find supplies, or to identify this figure, who is clearly unique to the rest of the group, so feel free to roll for Alaric as appropriate).