IC: DH The Purity of Sacrifice

[Bennosuke]

Luis' voice rings out like the rapport of a gun in the silence of The Magos' chamber. Something twitches under the heavy weight of the Priest's blood-red coat. Skeletal hands draw back Petrovskii's hood to reveal a skull covered in hundreds of worming pulsing tubes. Without rising from his throne, The Magos says, "You are companions of Mech-Wright Xerros, yes?" The Priest's voice is a low robotic monotone, and could be read easily as a sincere question, a statement, or a judgement. Xerros of course was unable to come on this errand, too busy making repairs to the group's lair. "Heretical things?" The Magos asks, and this time somehow curiosity seems to creep into his words, "is that what you have in the boxes you have with you?"

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Marcella nodded, deciding that honesty was the best course of action.

"Heretical things of the warp that need to be safely destroyed."

[dojango]

"An' old Xerros told us how much you hated heresy things, so we knew you'd help us out. We told the boss man you'd take care of it for us before we came over..." Luis adds.

[Wyndeward]

Arl shifted uncomfortably under the Magos' gaze.

"The items were recovered from the gangs of down below -- someone in the Hive is trading in these obscenities."

[Bennosuke]

The Magos raises a robed arm with the whir of hydraulic pumps and the thrum of a motorized engine. He gestures to the boxes and commands in low monotone, "Bring them to me. Have you opened the boxes yet?" Assuming the boxes are brought to the Magos, he runs his mechanical hands across the surface of the chests as if he could see through the lid with his fingertips. "And you are Coin Guilders, are you not? And who was it that tasked you with finding these... objects of Heresy? This is odd behavior for those of your profession, is it not?"

[dojango]

"Heresy is bad for business. And business is bad for heresy," says Luis.

[Bennosuke]

The Magos shrugs, and emits a noise from his vox that sounds something like heavy static, before saying, "Very well then. Deliver the boxes here." He indicates with a hand to a spot before his strange throne where there are fewer glowing candles. "Will there be compensation from the guild for using the manufactorum for your disposal services" he asks flatly as if asking the price of a grain bar.

[dojango]

"Sure, give us an invoice and we'll push it forward for payment. If this is anything like Miss Lucy's establishment at Tollares, we'll pay extra to watch."

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Marcella remained quiet as she simply watched.

[Wyndeward]

"Sure, give us an invoice and we'll push it forward for payment. If this is anything like Miss Lucy's establishment at Tollares, we'll pay extra to watch."

Arl visibly cringed at Luis' comment.

[Bennosuke]

"Very well," the Magos says flatly. There is the thunderous sound of an engine turning on, somewhere deep within the bowels of the manufactorum, and then the whirr of servos as a computerized monitor on a multi-jointed arm extends down before the acolytes. Numbers and sigils file across the screen, as a computer bed begins to spit out a roll of printed out parchment. The Magos points to the paper and says, "You can take the invoice, and leave the boxes by the door," seemingly ignorant to the uncomfortable glances of the other acolytes.

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Marcella smiles diplomatically, "the invoices will be fine. But we would very much prefer to witnesses the destruction of these dangerous items."

[Bennosuke]

A rush of wheezing static emits from the Magos' vox, glass eyes studying Marcella for a long moment. "I am sorry," his modulated voice comes in flat monotone, "but I cannot allow that, nor do you have the privilege. The Adeptus Mechanicus must maintain a level of... guaranteed privacy to perform our great works. You are welcome to take your... heretical belongings elsewhere, but I cannot grant you permission to monitor how we do our job."

[dojango]

Luis looks at Marcella and says, "Surely if you can trust anyone it's the chief of the Mars tribe. I mean, they're almost as trustworthy as those other guys that was lookin' for this stuff. You know, the Inquisitor guy. Anyway, we gots to people to meet and knees to break. A debt collector's work is never done."

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Marcella, sensing what Luis was getting at, nodded her head in agreement.

"Indeed, we'll inform the Inquisitor of where we deposited the items for disposal, for the sake of a complete record," she said towards Luis, but loud enough that the Tech-Priest would be able to hear.

Turning back to look at the Tech-Priest, "Thank you for your assistance. As always we are grateful for the cooperation of the Adeptus Mechanicus," she said diplomatically with a polite nod.

[Wyndeward]

Marcella

Marcella, sensing what Luis was getting at, nodded her head in agreement.

"Indeed, we'll inform the Inquisitor of where we deposited the items for disposal, for the sake of a complete record," she said towards Luis, but loud enough that the Tech-Priest would be able to hear.

Turning back to look at the Tech-Priest, "Thank you for your assistance. As always we are grateful for the cooperation of the Adeptus Mechanicus," she said diplomatically with a polite nod.

Arl set his box down with the other one, sketched a bow to the Magos and followed his companions out.

[Bennosuke]

Spoiler: OOC

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In case you have missed it, please see the OOC thread.

[Bennosuke]

"Very good," The Magos says, his electronic voice echoing in the vast candlelit chamber, "It is always a pleasure doing business with The Guild of Coin, and I look forward to Omnicron-5038's reimbursement as per the invoice I have provided." He hands Marcella the parchment paper. A quick scan shows a request for a staggering sum of thrones. "I trust the Guild will be prompt in their repayment, as you always are," Petrovskii adds, a layer of mirth somehow creeping into his monotone voice, "Oh, and please do send my regards to acolyte Xerros. Perhaps I will have to leave the forge-enclave some day soon and pay him a visit at your office some time soon."

The doors to the Magos' chamber suddenly open and the familiar pair of security servitors that had escorted the acolytes up to the chamber, march zombie-like into the room.

[dojango]

Luis gives a jaunty wave towards the Magos and the security servitors before heading back out of the enclave. Once they get back to the safehouse he makes the last few final touches to his report and then turns in to get a good night's sleep before their meeting with the Interrogator. After that gets a little boring, he slips out for a few drinks before their meeting with the Interrogator.

[Bennosuke]

Act 2 Scene i

Angevin Subsector
Hive World Helius, Hive Hapheastein
813.M41

The travel by railcar to The Upper Hive had been far more easy, and far more enjoyable for Marcella, Luis and Arl. Xerros had become involved in tending to the wounds of Severine, whose head injury appeared to be affecting the Sister more than expected. She had spent several days vomiting, moving in and out of consciousness, and mumbling to herself. The group had decided it would be best if she was not taken to a medical facility in the hive, lest their cover somehow be blown.

The railcar had taken the three up Spire Corona, one of the tallest spires in the Hive, primarily reserved for the transport and lodging of off world merchants and the like. The car itself had been far cleaner than the one used to enter the underhive, with temperature control and purified air. The railcar had wound round and round the spire, going up and up till it had cleared the dark clouds of toxins that hung low in the atmosphere, and suddenly the windows of the car were willed with bright blue sky and the brilliant light of the twin suns of Helius.

Everything about Spire Corona was different. White marble and mirrored glass made up nearly all structures, which were decorated with ornate bronze and gold finishings. Pedestrians were fewer and farther between; mostly wealthy nobles and their entourages, dressed in lavish silks in yellows and reds and golds. The individuals here lacked the sickly pallor of those in the lower and mid-hive, and in fact it seemed like the most heavily bejeweled and ornately dressed citizens were those sporting the heaviest and darkest tans. Most of the locals paid no mind to the red robed credit guilders walking amongst them, though most everyone seemed to give the acolytes a generous berth.

At the appointed time, the acolytes arrived at Platform 13, a long stone walkway extending off of the main spire to become a glass domed incubator about 500 meters long and equally as high. A light dotted runway stretched across the tarmac, and servitors milled about paying no mind to the acolytes. The air was filled with the high pitched hum of oxygen scrubbers, and the occasional roar of a nearby aircraft.

Only twenty minutes late, the dome of Platform 13 began to shake and rattle as the roar of an approaching vehicle drowned out all other noise. Sleek and agile, a matte charcoal Guncutter soared into view, growing closer and closer till it entered the port-mouth of the platform, landing gear hitting the tarmac as it decelerated across the runway with screeching wheels.

The Guncutter rolls to a stop only fifty meters in front of the gathered acolytes, an arrowhead shaped metal bird, two long barreled fore-guns aimed menacingly ahead. With whining pistons, a landing ramp extends from the bottom of the ship's hull. Even before the ship has begun to power down, boots begin to ring on the ramp. Interrogator Ezekiel strides into view, a man perhaps in his late thirties, clad in fine green robes tucked into a burnished Carapace chest plate, ornate pistols strapped onto either hip on a fine leather belt. Cold blue eyes study the acolytes as he approaches, followed by a retinue of three new acolytes.

The trip for Null, Hound and Mort had been long and quietly tense. Interrogator Ezekiel was a brooding man of few words, and it had been the first time for each acolyte to spend any time with the man. He was well spoken and thoughtful, when he did deem it worth his time to speak with his acolytes, but seemed to have preferred spending as much time alone as possible. This had given the three plenty of time to get to know each other on their travel through warp space on board the merchant vessel Argos. The Interrogator had taken the time to fill the three acolytes in on their mission; rumors of strange Xenos missions being secreted into Hive Hapheastein through the underhive, discovered by an underhive gang. The Interrogator and the three were here now to follow up on the first cell's progress, uncover who was sneaking in these Xenos weapon and why, before putting an end to the heresy.

Interrogator Ezekiel stops at the bottom of the boarding ramp, crossing his arms across his armored chest, and turning his tonsured head to one side, an unimpressed glower on his impassive face. "You must be the... Guilders I was sent to meet," he calls, forced to yell over the whine of the slowing Guncutter engines, but clearly being sure to choose his words cautiously. "These are my companions," Ezekiel says, gesturing to the acolytes behind him, "and what shall I call you three?" he asks, seemingly already bored with the topic before he has even received an answer.

(OOC@All: Please use this as a quick opportunity to introduce and describe your character)

[dojango]

The young feral-world warrior stood on the tarmac. He leaned on his bow stave, watching everything wide-eyed with wonder. It was good to see the sky again. He was wearing his gold cloak over his battered flak armor, with a fur hat on his head. When the interrogator came out of the cutter, he stood up straight, doffed his hat, and said, "Luis Crow-Tooth of the Flint Bear tribe, at yer service. Here's the report you was askin' about." He stepped forward and offered the Interrogator a handful of wrinkled papers.

Spoiler: Report

Show

Using the crude color sticks that some of the children in the habs use, he has illustrated some of the high points of the investigtion; a man shooting a bow at some mutated creatures, a man in red drinking a beer, a blond woman with lighting bolts shooting out from her head and hands, another man shooting a rifle at a ganger, a man in red holding a severed hand, a drawing of boss half face angrily scowling, the acolytes pointing weapons at a smug-looking young woman, a drawing of a few Clan Raptor gangers standing around some boxes with spooky lines coming off of them, a drawing of the acolytes fighting the gangers, a drawing of a man handing a comically oversized bag of cash to a fat soldier, and finally a picture of some tech-priests throwing some crates in a fire.

[Bennosuke]

"Pleasure to meet you, Luis of the Flint Bear Tribe," the Interrogator says with an impassive face as he reaches to take the document. He opens the parchment, eyes scanning the crude drawings, but his face remains a nearly unreadable mask. Ezekiel says nothing, but instead raises his eyes expectantly, perhaps waiting for another acolyte to explain, or at least introduce themselves.

[LairdMaon]

The large brutish man steps forward and drops his rucksack to the ground. He immediately makes the sign of the aquila followed by an arbite salute. "I am Regulator Mallory. I'd give my home precinct, but they asked me not to."

He hefts his bag to his shoulder like it weighs nothing. As he straightens up, a brand can be seen above his left hip.

[Wyndeward]

Arl bowed slightly at the waist. "I am called Arl of Kesh, Interrogator." He rolled up the sleeve of his black body-glove to reveal scarified pictographs carved into arm, of both beasts and men.

"It would, perhaps, be best if we presented our findings away from here."

[LairdMaon]

Mallory shudders at the word 'interrogator' and lights a lho-stick, very obviously trying to hide his reaction behind the smoke.

[Blindfolded Ape]

The red robed figure behind the Interrogator looks up from his data-slate, fingers tapping away with mechanical precision, not even looking up from his work as he speaks. "Designation: 0x880804-Null. Statement: This one is here to provide assistance as directed by both Interrogator and Inquisitor." He chitters to himself briefly in a burst of binary, glancing up only as long as it takes to get an image of his new companions.

[rax]

A wiry, unshaven man with a mop of reddish-brown hair strides down the landing ramp after the Interrogator. He's probably in his early thirties and wears plain grey Administratum robes over a bodyglove. Of note is a bar code tattoo on his forehead. Blue eyes scan the assembled acolytes from top to bottom before he speaks.

"I am called Hound. I will review, collate and examine the data you have recovered so far. Your assistance will also be required in securing further data as needed to bring this investigation to a successful conclusion. The enemies of Mankind will then be excised," the man states as if he were speaking incontrovertible facts.

[BananaPhone]

Marcella


Marcella had mostly kept to herself after the group had left the illustrious presence of the Tech-priest and his Omnissiah-worshiping compatriots. To be honest, the Adeptus Mechanicus creeped Marcella out just a touch. As a member of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica herself, the budding Psyker was not overly fond of the idea of transferring her mind into that of a cold, dead machine, as her mind was a gift of nature that allowed her to act as a bridge between reality and the warp. How that conduit was created was up for debate, but what was certain was that it required the neuronal tissue of her brain to do so and thus, such a connection would be lost were her consciousness to enter into one of the Mechanicus' computers. Just the thought of no longer being able to feel the world around her through her extrasensory perception was a frightening prospect to the Psyker, like asking a normal person if they would like to lose their eyes or sense of touch.

Having compiled her report in a much more neat and presentable fashion than her feral-world compatriot, Marcella cut a different image when she greeted the Interrogator and his companions. While Luis was a primitive put into a pretty robe, Marcella had a more comely and polished exterior. Her clothes were neat and frugal and her collar framed her neck and jaw. Her blonde hair was drawn back into a loose-fitting ponytail that gave her angular, pleasing features an unusual combination of being both relaxed and presentable at the same time, while her intelligent, bright green eyes sat at the centre of her face.

After Luis had handed his report over, Marcella did likewise. With both gloved hands, she held the neatly formed and pressed documents out for the Interrogator to take.

"Marcella Dominica," she spoke, her normally soft and gentle voice needing to be raised to be heard over the whining of the ships engines.

"I concur with Brother Arl: a debriefing would be better performed elsewhere!" she said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she gestured to the engines.

[Bennosuke]

"A pleasure to meet you, Arl of Kesh," the Interrogator says, "and Marcella Dominica." He greets the additional two acolytes with similar exhaustion/exasperation. "Your plan is more than reasonable," Ezekiel says flatly, before looking back at the Gunncutter, "Unless you have your own transportation, I will... arrange for our return." When he's confirmed that the acolytes don't have their own transportation, the Interrogator raises a hand now clutching a mechanical remote stick, and depresses a single red button. A roar comes from within the Gunncutter and within moments a non-descript four wheel car rolls out from ship, complete with fully tinted windows. "I'll drive," the Interrogator says unenthusiastically.

*************************************************

Having returned to the midhive, and discretely parked the car in the back of the cell's compound, Interrogator Ezekiel stood at the head of the library table, both gloved hands resting on the fine darkwood table, looking over the acolytes. He raises the primitive drawing provided by Luis and says, "Now that we are alone, and gotten to know each other... explain."

[rax]

Hound is as eager as the Interrogator to hear the first team's report, but conceals his interest by puttering about the library to study the books.