Rogue Trader: The Halo Stars [IC]

[Forum Explorer]

Verg looks around, considering. The machines were fine, but he should remain on guard regardless. He moved over to a computer and sent a message to the bridge. This is Verg. Enginearium is secure with all systems nominal. Requesting status report.

[The Glyphstone]

Ar'khaat is quite displeased at the disappearance of his foe, however illusory it might actually have been. Every battle was a test of worthiness before his ancestral spirits - hopefully they would not fault him for the monstrosity's manifest unwillingness to be real and obligingly mortal.

After inspecting his maul somewhat forelornly for any sign of chitinous scraps, bits of black warp-monster flesh, or any other indications of having faced an actual enemy he returns it to its sheath. He was still alone in the Arboretum - but if the cessation of warp phenomena had indicated a successful transition, they were probably close to nearing their destination. That meant it was time to get to work, and the first order of business would be making sure Balthasar was still alive. If the ship had actually been attacked by warp-monsters Ar'khaat could have died fighting without losing honor - after all, that was how his predecessor had fallen. But if the Rogue Trader had suffered a heart attack - or worse, been accidentally shot by some other crewmember - it would be a tremendously shameful failure.

As the Kroot rises to leave the grove of trees, his skin rippled and shifted appropriately, blending against the tree-trunks and changing seamlessly to the dull grey of hull-metal as he enters the corridors. The ship's crew were very rarely able to see him in the best of circumstances, and in their current assorted states of weeping, gibbering, catatonic, or dead none had a hope of doing so. He arrives unimpeded and unnoticed on the bridge, and to his unpleasant surprise found Balthasar had indeed been shot. It didn't seem lethal, though to be sure he stalks right up to Balthasar's side before giving the wound a rough poke of inspection as his concealment fades.

"You'rrrrre looking medium-well, Bossssss."

Spoiler: OOC

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Stealth rolls. 2 DoS on both checks if anyone feels like Awarenessing his approach.
Concealment (1d100)[76] vs. 100
Silent Move (1d100)[74] vs. 100

[Erulasto]

Seeming to take Baltasar's explanation of events at face value, Iskarya cast a side-long look to Ambrus with a rather toothy smile. Her incisors and canines had been filed to wicked fangs. Smiling was, after all, the only polite way of baring your teeth at someone.

With orders given to sweep the ship, Iskarya retrieved her helmet from where she had dropped it and slid it over her head. Once enclosed fully in her armor, she turned to the newly arrived Ghost.

"Ghost." She said in curt acknowledgement when he seemed to appear from the shadows of the bridge. "We are to sweep the ship for enemies. By the command of our Master."

A vox call was placed after to the armsmen who usually accompany her on her under-deck hunting forays.

If there was a threat on the ship, she would find it and purge it.

With great pleasure.

[Valmark]

Baltasar was going to answer Verg, even with his head somewhat occluded by the effect of painkillers, when a sudden poke at his wound made him grimace. He almost jumped after turning to find Ghost next to him, seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
"Yes, apparently laser pistols aren't great utensils for cooking. I trust that nothing happened that you couldn't handle?" he replied with a grin.

"Before going listen to this- you weren't here -I think- so you probably didn't hear much" he told Ghost and then answered Verg.
"Good to hear Verg. According to Sabina, whatever it was came from this side of space, with my guess being that it was something somewhere out there. Just in case, I've told Iskarya and Ghost to sweep the ship- if you can help them I'm sure there are things you can see that they cannot.
On to the good news. There seems to have been little damage, which makes me question what the point even was.
Anyway, this looks like a solar system that has seen better days, good thing our shields push away the small matter. They tell me that we've picked up an Imperial distress signal, so there's a good chance we'll have work to do soon enough" rising somewhat unsteadily, he walked to the helm.

"Right- let's see if I can boast without horrible visions attacking the whole ship. We'll follow the signal and when we get in proximity we'll go in silent run until we confirm the lack of hostiles! Or the presence of hostiles!" he knew well enough that for every distressed ship there usually was a distresser one.
Then he once again sent out a message to the whole ship.
"Alright! Despite what has happened, we've gotten to destination and with only the slightest damage, which means that now it's fun time gents! We've been here for a few minutes and we've already got something, so chin up everyone! And I'm still waiting on that apple!"

[Forum Explorer]

Acknowledged. I will meet them at crossing 372-Delta-Z, Verg said, identifying a point between the Enginearium and the bridge. Closing the terminal, Verg looked around before moving to the highest ranking tech priest still standing.

Attention. He ordered. You have functions to perform. One; awaken the fallen and analyze mental condition. Any deemed unable to perform their duties are a liability and will be escorted out of the Enginerarium until further notice. Two; bring the Enginerarium up to status Orange in preparation for potential combat. Three; sweep the Enginerarium for any abnormalities that may have been placed here during the mental attack. Acknowledge that you have received these orders. he chatted in binary.

[Henry the 57th]

"Acknowledged," one of the less obviously frazzled Tech-Priests manages to reply to Verg, using a clawed mechandrite to anchor himself to an overhead pipe. "Omnissiah go with you."

As Verg turns to leave, those crewmen that aren't obvious unstable, unconscious, or still writhing on the ground begin to carry out orders, dragging the fallen aside so that those who can function can resume working on the machine. It doesn't take him too long to rendezvous with the pair of xenos hunters coming down from the bridge, one seeming excited to find something that might be worth killing, one barely visible at all. Together, the odd trio begins their sweep of the ship. Obviously the Impiorum Requies is a vast ship, miles long and filled with ancient, twisting, disused corridors spoken of only in whispers by the crewmen, and so even working together scouring even a small fraction of it is a slow and tedious process. Hour after hour passes as they prowl down abandoned hallways, search back rooms, murder the occasional uppity mutant, and generally get avoided by any crew member with a lick of sense. No one wishes to be around one alien scum, much less, and even less two when they're stalking through the darkness with a bloodthirsty gleam in their hideous xenos eyes. Unfortunately for them, though, nothing of particular interest chooses to show itself at this juncture, let alone anything capable of such a potent psychic attack. Beyond the odd and lingering feeling of faint dread at the back of their minds and the occasional spot of relatively fresh blood on the decking, they would hardly know the ship had been attacked at all.

Meanwhile on the bridge, the crew gets to watch as the ship crawls forward through the nebula at a relative snail's pace, doing its best to avoid giving itself away to anyone who might be watching. Captain Baltasar eventually does get his apple, which makes for a tangy but not unpleasant accompaniment to the slow drift through the blue-green clouds swirling outside the viewport. An hour passes uneventfully as they cruise through space towards the source of the signal. Then a second passes. Then a third. The scene outside, in contrast to the usual black void of space, is rather peaceful. The soft, drifting stardust seems to drift by as if carried along by a gentle breeze, glowing faintly with some inner light to smother the weak glare of the distant star. Were it not for an unusual sense of persistent dread hanging just at the back of their minds, and the wound still smarting on Baltasar's chest, it would be easy to forget this system introduced itself with nightmares and violence. But even so, the journey in-system continues to go by slowly and without anything emerging from the clouds to attack. It takes around seven hours of slow travel before the ship's sensors can get a true lock on the signal through the nebula's interference, but when they finally can the results are a bit surprising. The Imperial distress signal isn't coming from a ship in orbit - as best the Impiorum Requies can tell there are none - but rather appears to be originating from the surface of the unknown planet itself. That's rather surprising, as for a signal to be reaching the outer system intact indicates a transmitter of some power down there, much more so than one could typically carry by hand.

[Erulasto]

With the sleek shardcarbine in hand, Iskarya’s frustration grew considerably the longer they prowled the labyrinthine corridors of the Impiorum Requies and found nothing. It was impossible to tell her expression behind the imposing black helm, but her posture spoke of an agitated predator and sent what crewmen they encountered scattering before her.

With their sweep completed, Iskarya snarled and pounded the nearest bulkhead with an elegantly armored fist.

A torrent of words spilled from her mouth, the xenos tongue fluid and gracefully cold in sound. It took a delayed moment before her translator-unit was able to work through the rant.

”Blood of Khaine! When I get my hands on whatever has caused this…attack…I will rend its flesh and drink its soul!”

She turned to Ghost and Verg, eyeing them with murderous intent.

”I see nothing! Nothing but ghosts in the Warp!”

[Forum Explorer]

There are no signs of Warp exposure, nor foreign entities. Verg said, waving an auspex slowly over a patch of discolored metal. He turned to look at Iskarya, Perhaps the attack wasn't psychic in origin after all. Do you have any prisoners we can dissect? Perhaps there was a chemical basis to the hallucinations.

[Valmark]

"Impiorium's apples are the best, I always say" Baltasar commented during the travel. Aside from that it had been a fairly boring travel. He perked up as soon as he was notified about the signal coming from the planet.

He opened the ship-wide for an announcement.
"Good news! We've reached what could be something interesting, which means preparing the Teleportarium! If there is no way to contact whoever sent out the signal we'll go down as close as possible to the source to investigate. I want an analisys of the planet's atmosphere to make sure it has breathable air and the Bloody Hawks are to prepare for departure. Iskarya and Ghost, if my gut feeling is right you'll get to stretch out your muscles too. Verg, it's likely that the signal is coming from some kind of powerful transmitter, you should prepare for departure too. Until we come back, the ship should stay in silent mode and any new development is to be communicated to me immediately" he said, closing the channel and leaving the helm.
"Ambrus, think we can try contacting the source of the signal remotely? I doubt that but trying doesn't hurt. Sabina, do you mind preparing too? Your help would be invaluable"

[Erulasto]

"Only the mutant ghilliam I have pulled from the labyrinthine dark of this veseel." Iskarya said to Verg, "But feel free to disect. Or vivisect. I am not picky."

With Baltasar's statement they may be going down to this strange planet's surface, Iskarya turned on her booted heel and stalked off down the corridors of the ship to her quarters. If she was going planet-side, she would need her kill-recorder before returning to the bridge.

For posterity.

[Janwin]

"We can certainly try through the normal communications array. If it is a ground facility or a crashed voidship, it should have the necessary receivers to pick up and respond to our comms."

He glances over to one of the crewmen manning the comms array. "See if you can get any sort of response from anyone living down there."

[MechaMaestro]

"Let me fetch my sidearm and arrange for another astropath to stand ready on the bridge Captain!" Sabina says, smiling, before curtsying to Baltasar and departing.

As Sabina walks off, her eyes begin to glow as she sends a telepathic message to Ordoius, her choir subordinate telling him to be on standby as she will be likely heading to the planet's surface.

[The Glyphstone]

Half-seen and barely heard during the sweep of the ship, Ghost had remained privately amused by Iskarya's increasing moodiness, even if he privately felt the entire search was a waste of their time. The mysteries of the warp would not be so easily revealed by mundane eyes, however skilled - but it gave the Boss orders to issue, and a sense of being in control would as much for Baltasar's health after the incident as any medicae.

When the away team was announced, though, he did perk up. The cold, sterile corridors of an Imperial starship were an unpleasant experience he had adapted to, but every chance to breath the air of a planet and test his fieldcraft against its surface was a rare treat.

"A hunt issss alwayssss enjoyable forrrr itssss own ssssake, though lesssened by the lack of ssssspecific prey. Perrrrhapssss we will be luckierrrr this time."

[Forum Explorer]

Without a pre-existing bioscan of such a creature, such an operation would be a waste of time. Verg said. He paused at the announcement, and headed back to the Enginearium to stand down their readiness and prepare for the ground trip.

[Henry the 57th]

"Aye aye, my lord," the man Ambrus spoke to, Sentanis, says with only a slight tinge of uneasy to his voice. There is a bit of activity as the ship's technicians and communications officers briefly test to see which frequencies seem capable of penetrating the nebula clouds and atmospheric interference alike, before eventually seeming to settle on a narrow band with apparently good odds of success. What follows is a short broadcast requesting identification, followed by a minute or so of static in response. Just as the officers seem ready to abandon the obviously hopeless effort, Sentanis' console gives a high-pitched squeal that echoes easily throughout the vastness of the bridge.

"Pra..." a crackling voice framed by horrific levels of static manages to force its way out. "-ar Emperor! People! Act... are he..." The celestial interference continues to eat most of the other side's voice.

Even while the officers are scrambling to try and tune out some of the interference, the voice disappears. When one comes back on a moment later, it seems noticeably deeper and less exuberant than the first.

"...name of... Authority and... -peror," it says, somewhat harshly. "Identify yourse..."

[Erulasto]

”That sounds…promising.” Iskarya said wistfully as she listened to the garbled transmission now that she had returned to the bridge of the voidship. ”They encountered something they did not expect. Is this planet listed as one of your mon-keigh colonies, my Lord?”

[Valmark]

"Don't think so, Iskarya. And this doesn't look like a colonizing process" he said, before answering the trasmission.

"Here is Baltasar Paradus, Rogue Trader of House Paradus and captain of the Impiorum Requies. We stopped by because of your distress signal that somehow reached us from outside the system. And who are you?" while Baltasar didn't like that tentative of imposing autority, he was willing to let it be. Apparently, they had already their own share of problems.

"Am I correct in assuming that you need help? You know, distress signal and all. If you can give us precise cohordinates we can come down and help out as possible. We can still come down, but you know, wanted to avoid a useless trek is a jungle or something like that"

[Henry the 57th]

“Rogue Trader, thi...” the deep voice continues to be afflicted by static, though as the bridge crew hone in on the exact frequency there seems to be less and less of it. “...Volantis Sovereign Colony Authority. Heavy xenos incursions. Repeat, heavy...” more crackling static. “...ting immediate assistance and evacuation. They... from nowhere in the dead of night, and... with the sun. In the name of the Star Emperor... us.”

There is a noticeable pause before the voice continues, now seeming to be the lighter one originally heard.

“Coordinates 33.6119988" N, 112.103003" W,” that first voice says,” as though giving away some great secret. “Watch the ski... aircraft. Come armed.”

[Valmark]

"We'll come immediately then- not all of my crew is human, so don"t get alarmed. See you soon" he said, taking note of the cohordinates then told the bridge to end the communication.

He opened a broadcast then.
"Teleportarium, We've got our cohordinates- 33.6119988 north and 112.103003 W. Everyone going down to the planet, meet there. To the crafts hangar, prepare some fighters- they said that there are enemy aircrafts, so it's likely we'll need them" he closed the communication and turned to Iskarya, smiling "Looks like you'll get to have fun, finally"
He turned towards the exit.
"Very well- standard procedure from when I'm not on the bridge. Ambrus, you are coming too, yes?"

[Erulasto]

Iskarya listened to the transmission being received on the bridge, shifting listlessly from the ball of one foot to another. It wasn’t as outright predatory as pacing, but it was clear she was anxious, or frustrated. When Baltasar eventually confirmed they’d be going down, she grinned toothily behind the monstrous mask of her helmet.

”I am your weapon to wield, my Lord.” She practically purred, before turning on her heel with a flourish of her skin-cloak and made her way to the teleportarium.

[Forum Explorer]

Perhaps this Xenos species was responsible for the mental attack. We should aim to capture one to interrogate later. Verg suggested.

[Janwin]

"Xenos attackers? I wouldn't miss it for the world, cousin. I just need to grab my gear."

With that, Ambrus heads off to his quarters to grab his armor and weapons, and meets them at the teleportarium.

[Valmark]

"Knew I could count on you!" Baltasar smiled and slapped Ambrus on the shoulder on the way out.

After having gathered his equipment he met them all at the teleportarium.
"I like Verg's suggestion- if they are intelligent enough we should force their surrender. Or just hit them on the back of the head, either works" he told them when everyone had gathered. The technicians of the teleportarium already had all the required info, so he was good to go at any time.
"They'll probably be weary of Iskarya and Ghost, since they've been dealing with hostile xeno forces- in case one of the humans tries to pull a gun on us, let me and Ambrus smooth things over. If someone tries to shoot a gun at us, they are idiots and deserve whatever concequences fall on them. I'm not going to save someone that's trying to kill me or anyone else present"

[MechaMaestro]

With a laspistol now holstered around her hips, Sabina arrives in the teleportarium, ready to make planetfall after reciting her usual prayers of protection to the Emperor.

[Henry the 57th]

As the Impiorum Requies picks up speed, pushing its way through the endless clouds of cosmic dust, the distant sphere begins to appear in the viewport. At first it is just a tiny black dot, notable only for not being more of the bluish-green streams flowing around the ship. But as the minutes tick by the planet grows larger and larger, the nebula growing thin enough that some of its traits can start to be made out with the naked eye. It appears as a greyish-white ball in the sea of starstuff, the weak light of the system's primary only just enough to keep it habitable. The seas of liquid water found on most naturally habitable planets are notable for their complete absence, cloud cover for its intensity. The old ship's sensorium soon establishes the atmosphere to be relatively thin, but breathable. Without the swathes of green and blue that normally oxygenate the air, it isn't immediately clear how that is possible.

By the time the ship makes low orbit only just above where day transitions to night, the apparently ailing planet has become a great white marble in the sky, great shards of grey that can only be staggeringly vast mountain ranges piercing through the otherwise endless stark white. Despite the colonists' allegations of attack, the cruiser's arrival is completely unchallenged, the planet's lonely grey moon the only other celestial object in the vicinity. Streaking fightercraft can be seen cutting through the wispy nebula like bullets almost as soon as the ship reaches optimal launch position, hurdling towards the atomosphere and whatever xenos abominations await.

The launch of the fighters is the last thing those on the initial landing party get a chance to see, as the optimum time for a teleportation coincides with their departure. Deep in the bowels of the ship, surrounded by chanting tech-adepts waving censors of sacred incense and burning oils, the six of them get only a moment of warning, a single crack in the air, before something grabs them by the stomach and pulls. What follows could best be compared to being dragged by the intestines through a pipe only a few centimeters wide. The pressure from all sides is enormous, the talons wrapped firms around their guts, almost unendurable. But praise be the God-Emperor, the situation only lasts the scantest fraction of a second.



Cold.

Immediately, each and every member of the landing group are slapped across the face with a horrible, mind-numbing, bone-chilling cold that seems to be actively trying to suck the life out of them. No matter how well-armored or well-insulated they might be, the sheer shock of transitioning from the mild if somewhat stuffy depth of a starship to the subzero surface in an instant is enough to discomfit and stagger them for those first few seconds. Hearts beat frantically and breath seems to all but crystallize in front of their faces, limb instinctively huddling close to chests for warmth. Fortunately, this too passes.

After a few seconds of minor adjustment, the group is able to get a better picture of their surroundings. The teleportarium has deposited them in the midst of a wide mountain valley covered with tight-packed snow. Jagged formations of grey rock litter the valley floor seemingly at random, casting long shadows in the dying sunlight, leaving the terrain deeply uneven and visibility poor at best. From their position in a relatively flat area amongst these numerous small peaks, the six of them can make out the distinctive gunmetal grey of an artificial structure jutting horizontally out from a mountainside, bearing the distinctive heavy and blocky appearance so characteristic of human manufacture. Similarly-colored aircraft of unknown design are scattered across the valley floor, wrecked and so weather-worn that they have obviously been of no use for some time.

As their eyes cast about for a clear route through the jumble of rocks, snow, and ruined machine, the six of them catch the sound of a brief and slight hiss over the whipping of the wind in their ears. Before they can make out where it came from, it is followed up by the much louder and distinctive cracking of solid slug projectile discharge, this time clear emanating from just beyond a nearby rock formation.

[Valmark]

Baltasar almost thought that he would've been better off staying on the ship to cohordinate the fighters when he was horribly ripped from his thoughts and landed on the planet. He repressed a curse, kneeling down and hugging himself to try and keep the heat in.

After a fair bit of jumping in place in quite an embarassing way to warm up, he turned to inspect his surroundings.
"Honestly, I expected better. Well- let's follow the gunfire!" he said, pulling out his autopistol "Just in case. If they are human, don't shoot first of course"

Spoiler: Ooc

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Sorry, I thought I sent it but I did not. Can check the book right now, so I have no idea what my Awareness (is that the skill?) Is, so I'll just roll:

(1d100)[9]

EDIT: with that roll it doesn't matter what stat it was. Anyway, yeah, awereness to not fall into any trap.

[Janwin]

As he gathers his senses after the shock, Ambrus quickly pulls his cameleoline cloak tightly around himself, both for its concealment and its small amount of Emperor-blessed warmth. He takes a quick look around to try and find a path they might safely take toward the gunfire.

Spoiler: OOC

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Awareness: (1d100)[8] vs TN 59

Also, reminder for the GM, Ambrus has Paranoia. In case we're being ambushed in the near future and you want to use it.

[Forum Explorer]

Verg draws his Hellgun as he follows along. He listens to the sounds of gunfire, trying to identify which weapons are being fired. Both the snap-hiss of the first rounds fired and the solid slug rounds.

Spoiler: Rolls

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I'm not sure which rolls these would be, so here is my best guess:

Awareness (1d100)[19] vs 50

And a Knowledge of some kind so Int (1d100)[30] vs 60-80 depending on the knowledge. I doubt it's Archeotech, but if it's Common Lore Tech than it's 70. Otherwise 60.

[MechaMaestro]

Sabina is far more concerned with keeping herself warm than tactically prepared, and keeps her hands under her arms for warmth.

"C-c-c-c-captain might I s-s-s-s-suggest th-th-th-th-that n-n-n-n-next t-t-t-t-time we analyze th-th-th-th-th-the weather b-b-b-before t-t-t-t-teleporting? I h-h-h-h-h-had a f-f-f-f-f-fur c-c-c-coat in m-my c-c-c-closet th-that w-w-w-w-would ha-ha-have b-b-b-b-been s-s-s-s-splended t-t-t-t-to h-h-h-have."

Spoiler: Roll

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Awareness (1d100)[85] vs 63

[The Glyphstone]

At the sounds of conflict, Ar'khaat perks up immediately. The Boss had promised a hunt of some kind - the Kroot hadn't been paying a great deal of attention to the details, or whatever was going on down on the surface. But there was a fight at hand already, and close by it seemed. He bounded forward towards the noises, power maul dropping into hand even as his skin turned blueish-white to blend with the snowy terrain.

Spoiler: OOC

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Awareness: (1d100)[47] vs. 58
Concealment: (1d100)[53] vs. 100
Silent Move: (1d100)[21] vs. 100