Seeds of Liberation.

[ellna]

Pleegawa, the frozen planet. A tiny frosted orb that orbits a vast sun, with soft golden glow. Officially the world is designated as feral; but for centuries, if not millennia, two powerful corporations have fought to change that. The Derion dynasty and the Ebbesen collective both seek the right to exploit the unspoiled world. However the vast Imperium in it's wisdom, or in it's blindness, remains silent giving answer to neither. Instead in contents itself with taking bribes and offerings from both corporations while claiming a tithe of men and beasts from whichever primitive warlord boasts the strength of arms to proclaim himself king. Thusly the population of this unimportant, little world are left to fend for themselves without the meddling of the Imperium. In fact for most of the world's inhabitants the Imperium is little more than a word and like the edicts of their king carries less weight than howl of an approaching blizzard. Tribal societies are scattered across Pleegawa hunting savage creatures with nothing but stone-tipped spears. Such conditions breed humans fierce as Catchans and hardy Valhallans it is then no surprise that the Imperium's main use for them is as soldier to feed it's never ending wars.

Through the smoke marred window of your shuttle you can see the icy tundra, cast in the glow of morning light it possesses a stunning beauty. Flaming trails form around the other shuttles, that follow your descent from the void above. The spectacle looks as though flaming comets are raining down of the frigid planet. However it was not burning brimstone that fell today, but something much worse. The Imperium had returned.

---

"Looks chilly, eh?" The voice cut through the rumbling of the shuttle, as they descended the harsh rattling subsided and the howling wind outside could be heard over the hum of straining engines. The voice belonged to Santo, a gruff looking man. He had a matt of scruffy hair and an equally scraggly beard, it seemed as though hygiene was a foreign concept to this man and throughout the shuttle ride his odour had sought to invade every olfactory orifice. The only clean thing on the man was his weapon, clearly well kept it would've put a guardsman to shame. A immaculately polished and oiled autogun, the clip was clearly custom easily twice that of what be considered normal. Despite the care he clearly gave his gun, Santo was no soldier. Tattoos covered his arms that marked him as a ganger, though they were now covered with the same winter gear everyone had donned. What he had done to fall in with the inquisition was anybodies guess.

The man sat beside him cut a very different figure. His hair was neatly trimmed, his chin clean shaven and even his standard issue guardsman boots bore a brilliant polish. Underneath the heavy winter gear he was wore he no doubt wore a standard issue guardsman uniform. Even the lasgun sat in his lap was standard issue, in fact the only thing about him that wasn't standard issue was the heavy scowl he had kept fixed at the opposite wall for the entire trip. The only words he had spoken were those he barked before you had all boarded the shuttle. "I'm Sergeant Gabriel Aipopo, you report to me."

At least he had given his name, the scrivener buckled in the furthest seat had said nothing. Of course he didn't have to, he was just an observer watching and recording everything. The rumour was that Inquisitor, Lord Kantor, sent one of these loyal savants with each cell that operated under him. The man seemed sickly, his skin drawn taut over his bones and he clutched fiercely at the heavy tome that was his duty. Unlike the rest of this little band, he had not donned the warm winter garb, blankly staring at it when offered.

Earlier the shuttle bay.
"Hey slate-man, best wrap up."
"Hypothermia weather on the surface... I'll help you. Come here."
"Doc, leave it he don't want to be warm let him freeze."
"He is not going to be writing anything with his fingers falling off, come on help me get him in these."
"He ain't our problem, remember what ta' orders were, no tampering. Maybe he's a servy."
"No sort of servitor I ever saw..."

The doctor's conclusion seemed apt as what ever the scribe was, right now he looked to be a hair from chucking up his guts. The final member of the Inquisition's little cell was the Doctor. Least that's what Santo called him, true enough the slender man carried a box marked with the Medicae's crest, but he had given his name Lexus Medland. His features were all chiselled, as though a sculptor had carved him from stone. He didn't bear any scars or signs of wear and his hands, the dead give away, were long and neatly manicured. His voice and bearing too both betrayed him as being better, a man who once had wealth and servants. Now he too served the Inquisitor.

"Looks chilly, eh? Perhaps we'll have to keep each other warm." Santo again. slightly louder this time, it took a moment to realise he had been speaking to her. He gave a lewd wink accompanied by a dirty smirk.

[Strawberries]

Tajah keeps taking short, measured breaths, like she's done since she set foot on the damned shuttle. The smell certainly has a lot to do with it, although she is not stranger to company possessing unpleasant body odours, but the main reason is that the shuttle ride makes her nauseous. All shuttle rides, warp travelling, vehicles of any sort make her nauseous. She can sort of understand the fellow in the corner, who looks like he's going to puke sooner rather than later. She feels very close to be joining him in that.

"Tajah" She had just said when she's has been asked, and left it at that, although her expression had seemed to discourage any other overture, friendly or otherwise. Of the group, the doctor is the only one that had looked friendly (And nice to look at her mind had interjected), but he was obviously a damned Upperhiver... or whatever the equivalent of those was wherever he come from, the guy in charge had said three words and she has already the temptation to punch him, and the guy in the corner... Tajah has her own working theory on the guy in the corner, actually. She has seen people like him before. She has seen people in worse shape than him before, actually... and not on her home planet, either. He looks like one of those poor bastards that didn't make it, just before they came and carried them away. She hasn't checked, even if she has the means to. She had been slightly too preoccupied not to puke on her own shoes... but she plans to, as soon as the shuttle lands.

The fifth member of the little group, she realises abruptly, is talking to her. Screw that, the fifth member of the little group is coming on to her, and of course it had to be the one with the smell, hadn't it? "You wish." she just replies, scathingly, glaring at him. The reply and the glare have been pretty much an ingrained reaction. In your lonely, pathetic dreams she could have added, but every time she puts together more than four words, her accent gives her away as underhive trash, and as irrational as that is, Tajah is trying to avoid that for as long as she can. The less things people know about you, the better, she has soon learnt.

Spoiler

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I couldn't pass up the opportunity for a Firefly quote, couldn't I? Expecially given the mental image I've had in my head for the last half hour.

Spoiler: EDIT

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Also, right or wrong, Tajah is under the impression that the guy in the corner is another psyker. She'll try to psyniscience him as soon as the shuttle stops moving...and then possibly try to get him to put on something warm.

[ellna]

Tajah's reaction, only served to make Santo's grin grow, he licked his lips and...

"Stow it. Santo, stop fraternising with the scrag. It's here for one reason."

Gabriel barked his orders and fixed Santo with an angry stare. The sergeant's gaze then fell on Tajah, brimming with disgust. Santo's lecherous smile fled and was replaced with wary distaste. The wind howled and battered at the wall's of the shuttle, which now returned to a heavy stillness broken only by Lexus, muttering a prayer for his soul beneath his breath. Gabriel gave a thin smile before his scowl returned, thrusting his hand into a pocket he produced documents which he waved for the others.

"Right let's go over the mission. We've another scrag to catch."

The documents were signed by the Chief Quartermaster of the Anvil of Perdition, which sat in orbit above Pleegawa flanked by a pair of Naval Corvettes. The Anvil of Perdition was a monolithic Cargo Hulk, with the arduous task of ferrying supplies to the far reaches of the Imperium and for the time being acolytes of the Inquisition. The other shuttles dropping through the atmosphere bore supplies destined for the Imperial Guard stationed on this planet. The documents granted the acolytes the use of the shuttle for the duration of their mission and whatever they needed to complete it. Though exactly what "whatever" entailed, had been carefully detailed by the dutiful Chief Quartermaster prior to their departure. The first step was to reach the Imperial guard and produce the thick sheath of papers to whomever there held rank.

The second step was to see the King of this winter paradise. A bulky case sat buckled into it's own seat beside Gabriel, a gift for his majesty. Truly bribery was the simplest form of diplomacy. According to the briefing this king had an informant, one who had witnessed a child displaying: "The craft of the witch". The child was their true goal, to recover the psyker dead or alive. In the center of the shuttle's hold sat the iron coffin, a constant reminder of their purpose. It was easily large enough to house an adult and studded with dials and screens, but for now it's machine spirit remained silent, dormant and waiting. A metal prison. Somehow it managed to radiate an air of dread, even inanimate as it was.

"So any questions?"

Gabriel voice was so like a drill-sergeant from a bad holo-drama, that the question almost seemed to be ended with; maggots.

[Strawberries]

So much for people not knowing about her, it seems. You HAD to say that, didn't you, you bloody piece of rat crap? Tajah manages to bite her tongue before saying that, or an equivalent out loud: the guy is in charge, which means that the guy has all the means to make her life very unpleasant.... possibly even sent her back where she has been picked up. And if there's one thing that Tajah is absolutely certain of, is that she really, really doesn't want to go back where she has been picked up from.

She unconsciously crosses her arms in front of her chest and addresses everybody another glare, though is clear that she is slightly uncomfortable, this time. "No" she growls, at the Sergeant's question, even if she has two questions of her own. The first one is Do you train to be *******s or does it come natural?, but the second is slightly more pertinent to the mission. Why us? Why the Inquisition?. When she had been picked up, she doesn't remember the Inquisition being involved. It had been a malnourished-looking bounty hunter, that had dragged her away and sold her to the planetary force. A feral world wouldn't probably have a planetary force, but still, five people to go after a single psyker... she honestly hopes for him that when he gets caught he's dead rather than alive. She shudders a bit at the thought.

[ellna]

Gabriel glared at Tajah, some acidic remark no doubt on the tip of his tongue. However it was Lexus who spoke up.

"I only need to know the size of the child. The dose has to be tailored to the subject's body mass." He said to no-one in particular. His voice calm, as though the entire situation was perfectly normal. Gabriel grunted and broke off staring at Tajah.

"I don't see why we don't just shoot the runt, make our job easier."

"Lord Kantor, would prefer it alive."

"Why should we care? It's just some Scrag." Santo's voice is a sneer, as he casts a look at Tajah.

---

The howling wind grows stronger beyond the shuttles' confines and a harsh, red light begins strobing the interior. Over the intercom the machine spirit is barely audible, repeating crackling litanies of protection. The shuttle shakes violently as landing struts descend. Through the windows the ground, barely visible through the flurry of snow, draws closer and closer. The engines strain and the floor creaks from stress. The cacophony of the gale outside and the whining turbines reaches a crescendo, ending in a mighty shudder that signals landing.

The Pilot's voice rings out, as the din of the shuttle calms down.

"Next stop Pleegawa."

Then a horrifying sound, cracking ice. It carries over all over sounds with a crystal clarity. The shuttle drops suddenly, perhaps a couple of feet. Then it finally rests. Gabriel, who had been busily unbuckling himself curses, as the jarring impact sends him flying from his seat. The peculiar scribe heaves as though vomiting, but only a wheezing cough escapes his throat.

"Next stop, same as the last. Pleegawa."

[Strawberries]

Tajah doesn't give any of the several replies that have easily come to mind. It's not really worth it. She does, however, mentally cross the doctor off the 'make a pass at if occasion arises' list. It wasn't a very big list to begin with. "It'd be better if we just shoot him." she mutters instead under her breath. The poor bastard, whoever he is. She honestly hopes he's not too young. There weren't many young people, on Terra, and she hasn't seen any really young children at all... but she supposes young children are the very first to go. Damn

"Emperor's wrinkled ass, at least try to be careful!" she is startled into half-shouting by the sudden fall. Her hands reflexively tighten up on the seat's armrest, but luckily she was still strapped in, and doesn't follow the sergeant ignominious display. At least she hasn't made a mess, small comfort that that is, even though she does feel her stomach somewhere in the area of her throat.

She takes great pleasure in getting up and walking right past the sergeant, that's still trying to get himself up. "Hey, y' alright there, mate?" she asks instead to the scribe. He creeps her out, especially because of his utter lack of a psychic signature, but she feels more at ease to stand near him than anybody else. And if that isn't a sure sign of how screwed she is, she doesn't know how else to call it. "They weren't kidding, y' know, y' should put something warm on."

[ellna]

Tajah approaches the scribe, and for a second she feels something. The weakest of psychic signatures, but then like smoke in the wind it's gone. Whatever the scribe was it was at least living. Outwardly however the scribe makes no acknowledgement of Tajah, or her words. Instead as soon as the shuttle finally rests, he opens his tome and begins to frantically scribble across the empty pages. A quill clasped in one bony hand and an inkpot in the other. As Tajah's shadow falls across the book, she can see the cryptic symbols the scribe was writing, it clearly wasn't gothic. Perhaps it was some Inquisition code or shorthand; it looked, however, like the dancing of a deranged spider.

Gabriel picks himself up, red-faced, as the rest unbuckle. Outside other shuttles land like black locusts, marring the brilliant white of the snow. Their bellies laden with cargo. The landing ramp descended onto the crisp snow beyond and the biting chill entered the shuttle's hold, which suddenly seemed cavernous. The freezing air, carried one boon. It purged the stale and rank stench that was the eau de Santos. A soft fragrance could actually detect on the wind, some winter flower perhaps.

Gabriel was still organising himself when Santo strolled up and slapped him on the back.

"I was right, freezin'. Hey Soldier-boy reckon there's any women in the regiment. 'Coz I'd like t... " Santo was stopped mid-thrust, of completing whatever rude gesture he was making. Gabriel had span around and swung his fist into the man's face sending him sprawling to the ground. Anger twisted Gabriel's face, as he stood over Santo...

"That's Sergeant Soldier-boy to you! For that you can stay here baby-sit the box, while I get our ride." With that he swung his lasgun over his shoulder and stormed off into the snow. Leaving Santo sitting stunned on the floor, with blood streaming from his broken nose. Off to the side Lexus, carefully slid his hand away from his holstered pistol, clicking the strap back on. The doctor moved to help Santo, despite his waving away. Lexus gripped the still bleeding nose and snapped it back into place, wiping the blood clear on Santo's shoulders as he hauled him back to his feet.

As he did so Lexus clearly whispered something to the dirty ganger, but it was too quiet to catch amid the howling wind. Santo's reply, punctuated by spitting blood, was slightly louder.

"Feh, it was a cheap shot. He won't be so lucky next time."

With that Lexus grabbed his Medicae kit and cinched his winter furs tighter, before strolling after Gabriel. His measured stride, however quickly ceased when he stepped from the craft into the gusting wind; which forced him to bend and brace against it. The scribe, finished scratching at the faded parchment and also followed after the Sergeant. Already the scribe was shivering from the cold, his thin robe doing little to protect him from the elements. Once in the wind he bowed and swayed as though it was going to lift him clear of the ground. Still he said nothing.

---

Past the thick, swirling snow a dull, grey tower loomed. It burst from the frozen ice like a spear. From it's base; artificial light spilled out mingling with the glow of the morning sun. This was the only bastion of the Imperium on this forgotten rock and it bore the savage wind without pause. The other shuttles behind them had already begun to unload, ramps disgorging men carrying massive crates marked with the holy aquila. The turbines of the idling engines glowed red with their heat, but a thin layer of frost was already forming on the blackened hulls. Gabriel was forging towards the lit entrance with an impressive pace, heedless of the shouts from the other crews, which were lost on the wind. He slowed for a moment to allow you to catch him, before he continued wading through the deep drift.

"Remember, we're Adeptus Munitorum. Special assignment, let me do the talking."

[Strawberries]

Tajah makes sure to stay well away from the conflict. She doesn't like Santo, but, in all honesty, she would have preferred Gabriel to be the one wounding up with his face messed up. Because the douchebag couldn't help himself, he had to tell, didn't he?

The deep, bone-freezing cold that enters the shuttle when the doors open makes her launch a worried look at the scribe. She doesn't really like the idea of him dropping dead for hypotremia or whatever that fancy word the doctor used to mean freezing your bits off and keeling over is. She grabs the discarded coat of his winter attire and hurries after the shivering scribe. "You'll thank me, mate, trust me" she mutters, plopping the garment on his bony shoulders. The full impact of the weather hits her as soon as she sets foot outside the shuttle. Holy Emperor, it's cold

---

"Adeptus M'nitorum. Got it, sir." She had got that the first time she had been told, but the man wasn't in a particularly good mood, and Tajah doesn't see any reason to provoke him further. She had already got her nose broke once, and doesn't feel particularly keen to repeat the experience. That's why she makes a point to use the honorific, as well. Would it kill you to slow down a bit, dammit?

[ellna]

The scribe makes no response as the bulky garment is deposited on his shoulders other than slumping slightly beneath its weight and clutching his tome ever tighter like a frightened child. A sudden, violent gust of wind tugs off the insulating garment from the scrivener. Any sane person would of clutched at their coat in such circumstances, but the scribe seemingly cares only for his work. Oblivious, Gabriel continues to set an unrelenting pace. The snowstorm continues to build and soon the shuttles and their crews are lost from sight, even the imposing tower rapidly becomes nothing more than a soft glow that barely penetrates the flurry of white. In this harsh weather the scribe is buffeted savagely like a leaf and his coat, lying amid the climbing snow, threatens to be whisked away forever...

Spoiler

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The scribe's unresponsiveness means that Tajah would actually have to fasten the coat herself for it to stay there.

The scribe is making slow progress in the blizzard, Gabriel and Lexus are forging ahead and will soon be non-visible in the blizzard.

If you wish to grab the coat it requires a +30 Ag test to reach before it is whipped away by another gust.

[Strawberries]

"Hey!" Tajah is completely unprepared to the lack of reaction, but she acts by pure instinct anyway, diving behind the coat without even thinking about the wisdom of it. She does question the wisdom of it when she finds herself with a mouthful full of snow Emperor's balls, it is freezing., but is rewarded by her fingers closing around the garment just a moment before it's snatched away.

"You'll owe me, mate". She regains composure and an erect position, spitting the snow out as she struggles with the wind to put the coat back on his shoulder. She keeps it steady with one hand as she has to walk around him to try and fasten at least a couple of the buttons as if he was a small child, and in the meantime, the sergeant and the doctor who have gotten further away that she's comfortable with. But what am I supposed to do, leave him to freeze to his death?.

"Com'n, mate, help me out a bit, I know y're there somewhere." she mutters more to herself than to him as she tries to steady him and urge him forward a bit at the same time. "Hey!" This time the shout is directed to Gabriel and Lexus Slow down, dammit.

Spoiler

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Well, she'll continue moving forward, but she's not leaving the scribe behind. If she loses the other, oh well. She'll still go towards the tower.

[ellna]

The frail scribe continues to stumble forward through the unrelenting flurry of snow. The icy wind bites and pulls at Tajah as she wrestles with the thick coat. Despite this she manages to secure the garment around him.

When Tajah looks up from her task, Gabriel and Lexus are gone. She and the scribe could be mere feet from them and still not know. The snow that swirls around them was now so thick that nothing else could be distinguished; other than the light pooling from the vanished tower. The wind screams through her ears with a deafening intensity and Tajah can be certain her shout has gone unheard.

Forcing through the onslaught of freezing sleet, she eventually reaches the relative calm found in the shadow of the tower. Gabriel and Lexus are standing there, waiting at the entrance. Gabriel seems to be yelling something, his voice lost on the wind, as Tajah draws closer she manages to make out his repeated shout.

"Draw iron and follow me! Scribbler stay with the Doc! Scrag! Double time! We've got trouble."




Gabriel has his lasgun ready, the flicker of the safety showing it to be primed and ready. Lexus too, has drawn his side-arm and taken cover at the side of the open entrance. Beyond this yawning portal, lies a vast room easily able to allow ten men marching abreast. At the far side another door, sealed, waits marking the entrance to the domain of the Imperium. Snow has piled up at the entrance, flooding into the room. Then Tajah spots it, blood. Off to the left a smaller door, obviously intended for a single person and leading to it is a trail of dried blood...

[Strawberries]

Tajah swears under her breath, cursing all feral planets and the people living on them, and the Inquisition, while she's at it, sending her on this forsaken corner of the galaxy for Emperor only knows what reason... but she doesn't release her hold on the scribe's arm, and keeps guiding him forward between the flurries. After all the trouble she's gone for him, she's not having him get lost and die on her in the snow.

She draws her weapon when she hears Gabriel shout, recognising trouble even if she can't make out the words. Then, a second later, she does make out the word, and, oh, consequences be damned, Tajah isn't going to take a single minute of it anymore. "Y' want me to bloody cover y'r back, y' start calling me with my name, mate" she hisses at him. And for that, he may bloody well go ahead first, Tajah thinks. She certainly isn't going to risk her behind for him. Even though, there is no reason not to get a head start.

Weapon drawn, she takes position on the opposite side of Gabriel, then carefully, she extends her perception again. As far as she's concerned, that is the one neat trick the Scolastica Psykana has taught her. And it would have come in handy in the Underhive, as well.

Spoiler

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Psyniscience again, please? (1d100)[48] vs 32

[ellna]

Gabriel clenches his jaw and swallows whatever retort he might of had. He doesn't spare a glance to Tajah as he moves into the room, sweeping the soft shadows for any hidden lurker. His lasgun's light reveals nothing lurking inside the large room, but as it plays over the massive inner door it's clear that it won't be opening in any hurry. The nearby control panel, with the rune of opening, throws sparks out into the room and the door itself has been partially melted. A discarded welder lies on beneath the rusted doorway, as further evidence of the hasty sealing. On the right side of the room another smaller door lies, it's light flickering weakly. Gabriel content that nothing was hidden in the main room, cautiously advances on the bloodied door. He manages to sidle up beside the door without any incidence. He spares Tajah a brief glance and prepares to go through...

Spoiler

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Initiative and Awareness.

[Strawberries]

The fancy, military-style moves are completely lost on Tajah. As far as her experience goes, there are only really two things to do: be quiet so they don't know you're there and run away really fast if you do get spotted. The second is not really feasible at the moment, mainly because the only way away leads to a frozen hell of a wasteland, so she tries to take cover the best she manages to and be as silent and inconspicuous as she can.

Spoiler

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Silent move? (1d100)[83] vs 32
Initiative (1d10+4)[5]
Perception (1d100)[14]

[ellna]

Tajah's attempt to be quiet is far from a success. The rusted metal floor accompanies each step with a grating ringing, which echoes eerily through the room. All she can do is move slowly and carefully and hope the thundering blizzard covers her approach. Gabriel of course makes no effort to move quietly, his military boots, announcing each separate step. As Tajah draws close to the bloodied door, she able to distinguish a voice beyond. Muttering and punctuated by a rattling cough. It sounds crazed and wild, the odd acoustics only serving to reinforce it's sinister quality.

"I won't succumb... I won't... I'm... We're... What have I done... Make it... Survive... Emperor forgive me... Not again..."

Tajah can also make out another sound, a ripping or tearing. Gabriel shifts his weight extending his hand towards the door, he spares a fleeting glance to Tajah, heavy with disgust. His hand extends three fingers. Then two. Beyond the door, Tajah hears the muttering cease and a soft tinkle, a scuffle of metal on metal. Then one...

[Strawberries]

Tajah cringes involuntary at the level of noise she's making. It doesn't matters much, with the level of noise Gabriel is making, but still, she is obviously out of practice. She scowls right back at the sergeant's look And why exactly should I do as you say? she refrains from saying. Even she realises that that isn't probably a good idea. Not with the sounds that are coming from behind the door.

Things is the thought that surfaces for a fleeting moment in her mind, coming from nowhere and gone just a second before she can assign a context to it. The sounds in question practically scream 'bad news', the sort of bad news from which you should run away very fast. They know we're here. Of course they do, with all the noise they've been making. And, Emperor be damned, she's going to follow the stupid jerk all the same, isn't she? Because really, what else can I do?

Tajah makes up her mind just a moment before he finishes the countdown, grips her pistol tighter and prepares to point it at whoever is behind the door.

[ellna]

Then one...

Gabriel turns the handle and barges the door, his shoulder forcing it open. Before he can bring his lasgun to bear, a trio of lasbolts are fired. They sear the icy air and leave a hectic after-image floating in the flickering light. Gabriel, clearly not expecting this resistance, is left standing in the doorway for a heartbeat, saved only by the assailant's poor accuracy. His training takes hold and he flings himself back into cover.

Beyond the door, the room is a sickening display of human carcasses. The bodies of at least a dozen imperial guardsmen lie in various states of mutilation. The room may of once been a mess hall and is filled with long tables and benches, however it now only serves as a charnel house. Their blood covers everything and seems to glisten, though it is now surely stale and dry. The source of the frantic rambling that Tajah had heard before is immediately obvious. Crouched behind an overturned table is a filthy man dressed in tatter's that were once the uniform of the imperial guard. The barrel of his lasgun still glows red hot. His hair is long and matted and his eyes show a manic fear, he seems more like a cornered dog than a human.

Spoiler

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Surprise Round: Crazy fires and Misses
Tajah is up next.
Then it'll be Crazy then Tajah then Gabriel.

Crazy is hunkered down behind a table, armed with a lasgun and guard flak armour. Distance 15m ish.

[Strawberries]

Damn. Tajah has seen enough people in similar conditions to realise there's probably no way of reasoning with the guardsman or whoever they may be. Still under cover, she starts to point her weapon towards him, but just before the barrel can align itself with his head she thinks again about it. If questioned, she would probably tell she's done it so that he can be captured and interrogated, but the real reasoning behind it isn't so tactical. I'm here for one reason, am I? Well, let's show him.

It's her very first trick, the very first thing she has learned how to do. Tajah focuses, tuning out Gabriel and all the rest, concentrating only on the guardsman and, most important, the lasgun that the guardsman is carrying. It's a thing made of mechanical parts and machine spirit, and she has always had a knack for putting her hands where they don't belong anyway, even if it's just her mind's hands.

Spoiler

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Weapon jinx ahoy!

(1d10+4)[7] vs threshold 8. Fingers crossed. Edit: awww....

[ellna]

The crazed man fires his gun once again, another trio of lasbolts slamming against their cover. Frenzied, wild and inaccurate. The doorway, built to last by imperial hands, withstands the onslaught with little more than welts in the masonry. The door continues to creak back and forth as it hangs open.

"Frak Krast! Frak 'im."

Spoiler

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Tajah is up again.

[Strawberries]

It hadn't worked. Of course it hadn't, it seemed to never really work when she needs it too. And really, the only time that it had saved her behind had been pure luck, hadn't it?

Sodding feral planet, sodding crazy lunatic and sodding Inquisition! Tajah scowls again, fiercely. Not that he can tell her expression, ducking under cover as she is. "Who's Krast, mate?" Distract him, he's unhinged enough that maybe he will forget to shoot us.. And now would be a perfect sodding moment for her powers to work, wouldn't it?

Spoiler

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To err is human, but I like perseverating.

Let's try that power things again. (1d10+4)[8] vs threshold 8. EDIT: HEY!

[ellna]

Gabriel snaps of a burst of las, with trained precision. The screaming bolts find only the cold embrace of metal, however, as they burn through the overturned table. He snarls as he sees his efforts wasted.

"Don't try it! I'll kill you all be..."

The lunatic pulled once again on the trigger of his own lasgun. It then made a sound that every guardsman feared. Empty, broken, malfunctioning. Whatever the cause no bolts spat from his weapon, instead it crackled with electricity. He yelped dropping the gun, his eyes wide with panic and fear. He turned and sprinted...

He was scrambling towards one of the corpses, a lasgun forgotten on the ground beside it.

"Forward, Move up."

[Strawberries]

Tajah looks around herself, locating a suitable cover a few metres ahead, in the form of an overturned bench. She runs towards it and crouches down, narrowly avoiding to step on the mauled body of one of the Imperial guards in the process, and fires at him in the hope to incapacitate him before he can reach the gun.

Spoiler: rolls

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shooting him, for now.

(1d100)[54] vs 31,plus whatever bonus applies for being two against one (is it +10, I believe)

If it hits, damage is (1d10+1)[3]

[ellna]

Tajah's las-blast fails to connect with the frenzied lunatic, but is close enough to give him pause. Gabriel sprints forward and ducks behind the same overturned table the maniac abandoned, peering through the holes his own shots had burnt.

The ragged man manages to make it to the corpse and snatches up the fallen lasgun. His breath is loud and irregular, coming in panicked heaving.

Spoiler

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And back to Tajah.
Gabriel and Crazy are now ~5m from each other.

[Strawberries]

Tajah considers the situation. She could shoot him again, sure, but if she can actually manage to buy five seconds for Gabriel to lounge at the crazy, they could just finish that straight away and get a prisoner in the process. "I'd put that down if I w're you, mate." she says, in a conversational tone. "Y'know, 'fore it jams again?"

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I know, I know, it's just tempting fate now...

Once again! (1d10+4)[7] Edit: oh, well, at least I didn't get a 13.

[ellna]

"Jus' die! Frak'n..."

His chest rattles as he struggles to draw in precious air in fast enough to fuel the stream of profanities straining at his lips. A shot from Gabriel flashes dangerously close to his face and serves only to spur him deeper into frantic madness. The screams of rage become incoherent as spittle flies from his lips. He fires. More flashes of light. Two lasbolts punch through the thin metal of Gabriel's table, adding more holes and leaving angry weals on the sergeant's armour. The third streak of energy hits higher, flying over the table and burning straight to his flesh. The stench of cooking meat and singed hair rises from his arm, as Gabriel grits his teeth in pain.

Spoiler

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Gab makes an aimed shot on Crazy and misses.
Crazy hits with a 3 shot burst, the first two going through cover and the third a direct hit to Gab.
Gab is hurt, but still active. Gab's Table is rapidly succumbing to Las-fire.

Tajah's turn.

Spoiler: Suspicous GM stuff.

Show

Gabriel takes 4 wounds(is now on 6). Cover is on 5.

[Strawberries]

Crap. She's not particularly attached to Gabriel - alright, let's face it, she wouldn't piss on him if she saw him on fire in the street - but it's probably better if he doesn't end up singing praises to the Emperor in the great choir in the heaven just yet. He's actually useful, if only to draw attention to himself and away from her.

"Hey, nutter!" she shouts, and leans over the bench just for a second, in the direction of the unhinged man before ducking down again

Spoiler

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I think I have something wrong on my character sheet... my laspistol fires only once, doesn't it? I can't do a semi auto burst? (If I can I will but I don't think so)

So, attack (1d100)[65] and if by some miracle it hits, damage (1d10+1)[2]

[ellna]

Tajah's shot flies wide, the madman rounds on her drawing up his lasgun. Before he can fire Gabriel looses another shot, the lasgun trembling in his injured arm, his lasbolt too flies wide. The nutter lacking any semblance of discipline fires as he spins his aim back to Gabriel, the result is for his burst to sail harmlessly into the space between Tajah and Gabriel. Over the wild screams of the unstable opponent Tajah hears;

"Frak'"

Gabriel spares a moment to glance back at Tajah and makes a motion with his arm, that causes him to visibly wince. He points at her then makes a circling motion with his finger.

Spoiler

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More Combat back to Tajah... Both Gabriel and crazy miss miserably.

[Strawberries]

Circle him, got it, got it. Tajah casts a glance over the edge of the bench, looking for another place to get cover behind. She would very much to avoid getting shot while she follows Gabriel's directions. She finds what she's looking for a second later, another overturned table, this one spattered in blood and other even less pleasant material. She quickly assesses that the path is free before dashing for cover.

Spoiler

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I'll be a good acolyte and obey orders, then, shall I?

Moving wherever is close to him and I can take cover , and then shooting him. If I need a double move, ignore the shooting part.

Again (1d100)[21] and (1d10+1)[3]

[ellna]

Tajah's shot catches the lunatic in the arm, causing him to whip his focus back to her. Unfortunately it was clear the shot had merely glanced him and been absorbed by the flak. Gabriel made use of the distraction weaving through the blood-soaked tables. The crazy man was caged between them, his situation now was hopeless. Still he roared, spluttering and choking as he disgorged his insanity. Then he fired, heedless of the sergeant behind him. A deadly trio of lasbolts fly straight at Tajah...

Spoiler

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Tajah scores a hit, but no damage.
Gabriel full moves, The crazy is no between the two of you, Gabriel is in range to charge.

Crazy fires on Tajah scores 3 hits. The first two are soaked by your cover. The third hit will be hitting for 11 Damage in the arm. That's nine after Toughness reduction.

Tajah will be needing 2 Degrees of success on a dodge to avoid all three and escape the damage, not looking good.

[Strawberries]

It's not the first time Tajah has been shot at, and certainly not the first time she has been hurt, but for some reason, it always manages to catch her by surprise. She grimaces, blinded for a second by reflexive tears that have formed in her eyes from the pain, but manages to point her gun again in the general direction of the man and pull the trigger.

Spoiler

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And one last time, I hope.

(1d100)[58] and (1d10+1)[10]