IC II: DH The Purity of Sacrifice

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Marcella leads Arl through the ship, doing their best to soften their echoing footsteps as they make their way toward the ship's cockpit. It was Marcella's assessment that the vessel's navigation cogitator and travel logs would be held there. As they draw nearer, the hallways begins to narrow, and the lights dim further. Then they hear the sound of footfalls drawing closer, though there is no door or hallways to duck into.

Marcella finds an area of the wall dressed heavily in shadow to slip into, but Arl is not as fast and does not have the benefit of warp powers. A pair of malnourished men lumber into view, both dressed in the coveralls of the dock workers. One man is hairy like an ape but damp with sweat, and carrying a metal toolbox that must weight nearly 20kg. The other one is hairless and skeletal, his sallow face half hidden under a fire-protective visor. The two catch sight of Arl, not yet noticing Marcella. The big one with the tool box nods his head in greeting towards Arl, but says, "We got everything repaired over here. Lookin' for something?" There is only a hint of suspicion in his voice.

Hidden in the shadows, her image camouflaged against the corridor and unseen, Marcella remains silent as she watches the conversation. She could see that the two workers weren't yet suspicious and were treating Arl as if he was supposed to be here, so hopefully that's all it was come to.

Nevertheless, Marc poised herself to strike if necessary.

OOC:
_____________________

Holding action in case anything goes down.

[Bennosuke]

The bodyguard chuckles at Orla's offer, his grin widening to show crooked teeth. "I assume you're hear serving someone? Wouldn't they be miffed if you deserted them?" Noticing Orla's search, he reaches into his coat and pulls out a rather ornate hand lighter and opens it with a metallic click, offering her the orange flame.

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

Marcella remains unseen.

(OOC: Will wait for Wynde)

[Haval]

The bodyguard chuckles at Orla's offer, his grin widening to show crooked teeth. "I assume you're hear serving someone? Wouldn't they be miffed if you deserted them?" Noticing Orla's search, he reaches into his coat and pulls out a rather ornate hand lighter and opens it with a metallic click, offering her the orange flame.

'Thank you.' Orla accepts the man's offer. 'Well not right now obviously. If I go around breaking contracts I'd get a reputation and no one would want to hire me, but I've always got to think about the next job. Just in case.' She'll pause to take a drag on the lho stick. 'Course, if you have a lot of mates maybe you don't need the help. You ex-PDF?'

[Bennosuke]

The man nods his head through Orla's banter, but raises his eye with curiosity at her question at the end. "Eh, something like that," he says, a little cagy. Then he nods back at Orla and asks, "You?" He also eyes Hound, Orla's companion with a bit of suspicion.

[Haval]

The man nods his head through Orla's banter, but raises his eye with curiosity at her question at the end. "Eh, something like that," he says, a little cagy. Then he nods back at Orla and asks, "You?" He also eyes Hound, Orla's companion with a bit of suspicion.

'Something like that.' Orla repeats the man's evasion. 'You know how it is.' Noting the man's look to Hound, 'Don't worry about him, he's alright.'

Spoiler: ooc

Show

I think I've exhausted this conversation unless he reconsiders offering Orla a job before we leave. Will give Rax a minute

[rax]

"Adept Third Class Toomes, personal secretary to His Excellency, Master Philius Jarkov of Carcus. On loan from the Divisio Recordari," Hound answers, his attention suddenly snapping back to the conversation. "We are...off-worlders," he adds by way of explanation.

[Bennosuke]

The body guard raises an eye at Hound, and replies flatly, "I see..." He looks back to Orla a small expression of confusion playing on his face. He snaps his lighter closed and stuffs it back into his fine coat. "Well, unless there is something else we can help you with," he says with a sigh, "I suppose ya best be moving on." He eyes Hound a gain with suspicion, and seems to be waiting for the man to reply, perhaps in protest or maybe just with more to say.

[rax]

"Apologies for any confusion, I am as yet unfamiliar with proper protocol in your Hive. My master and I are off-worlders. This one is a local hire," Hound adds, gesturing to Orla.

"Yes, moving on. Or do you wish to socialize further?" he asks Orla, apparently oblivious to the guard's suspicious gaze. "Master Jarkov has not yet indicated that he requires us to return to his side."

[Wyndeward]

Marcella leads Arl through the ship, doing their best to soften their echoing footsteps as they make their way toward the ship's cockpit. It was Marcella's assessment that the vessel's navigation cogitator and travel logs would be held there. As they draw nearer, the hallways begins to narrow, and the lights dim further. Then they hear the sound of footfalls drawing closer, though there is no door or hallways to duck into.

Marcella finds an area of the wall dressed heavily in shadow to slip into, but Arl is not as fast and does not have the benefit of warp powers. A pair of malnourished men lumber into view, both dressed in the coveralls of the dock workers. One man is hairy like an ape but damp with sweat, and carrying a metal toolbox that must weight nearly 20kg. The other one is hairless and skeletal, his sallow face half hidden under a fire-protective visor. The two catch sight of Arl, not yet noticing Marcella. The big one with the tool box nods his head in greeting towards Arl, but says, "We got everything repaired over here. Lookin' for something?" There is only a hint of suspicion in his voice.

Arl nods a greeting in return, putting a look of confusion and aggravation on his face. "Nah, someone just pullin' a prank on the new guy, tellin' me to get stuff from the forward hold." he said sourly. He sidled up towards them, his right hand rubbing on the fabric of his coverall, his left slipping into the rings of the brass knuckles in his pocket. Arl consciously maneuvered to allow Marcella to slip past these two while he distracted them. "C'n you tell me how to get back to the loadin' area? I have to kick someone's arse for this waste of time."

[Haval]

Orla had been very carefully not saying anything in response to the idea that she was an off-worlder. There was no guarantee that the man had been anywhere near the Underhive so whose to say what she sounded like to him. She'll just grin at the man and say, 'I'm from all over, me.'

To Hound, 'Socialise? Only if this one wants to get a drink with me when we both get a break. Depending on how hard his boss makes him work obviously.' To the man, 'Name's Cordelia. Let me know if you ever want to compare war stories later.'

Spoiler: ooc

Show

Will head off to go pretend to smoke if he has nothing major to add

[Bennosuke]

The yet-unnamed body guard looks from Hound to Orla, then replies, "Well ya' sound like a local..." though is voice trails off as he stares at Orla with what might be growing suspicion. To Orla's introduction, the man will place a hand over his chest and reply flatly, "Kertz."

He let's the two walk off, though you get the sense that Kertz watches the two acolytes as they move away from the doorway and down the hall.

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

The skeletal man is the first to reply to Arl, his voice is thin and creaks like a willow in the wind. "We're headin' of the ship now, if you ya' wanna follow us." He looks to the burlier one for agreement, but his companion simply shrugs. They still seem unaware of Marcella, and don't yet seem to suspicious of Arl.

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Hidden in the shadows, Marcella was able to deduce what Arl was up to: he was buying her a distraction. Buying her time.

She waited a few moments until Arl and the two had turned away and moved some distance down the corridor, before she slowly proceeded on. She stuck to the shadows, moving between each, pausing, waiting, listening, then moving on again, as she made her way to the cockpit where she could access the flight logs, transponder codes and other important information.

[Haval]

As soon as they were out of earshot Orla will find something to lean on while she finishes the lho-stick. To Hound, 'I suppose that could have gone worse.'

[rax]

"Indeed. It appears you have a talent for social interaction that has been lacking on the team for some time. Your presence will no doubt improve our chances of success," Hound answers.

"We might avail ourselves of Mr. Kertz' advice and seek out this saltwater pool he spoke of. Perhaps that will allay his last-minute suspicions somewhat?" he suggests.

[Haval]

"Indeed. It appears you have a talent for social interaction that has been lacking on the team for some time. Your presence will no doubt improve our chances of success," Hound answers.

"We might avail ourselves of Mr. Kertz' advice and seek out this saltwater pool he spoke of. Perhaps that will allay his last-minute suspicions somewhat?" he suggests.

Orla considered that. 'Well no one pulled any guns. Short of having Marcella along as a failsafe, I'd say that's the best you can hope for.' She'll take Hound's advice and go looking for this pool. 'I suppose they can't stay in that room forever.'

[Wyndeward]

The skeletal man is the first to reply to Arl, his voice is thin and creaks like a willow in the wind. "We're headin' of the ship now, if you ya' wanna follow us." He looks to the burlier one for agreement, but his companion simply shrugs. They still seem unaware of Marcella, and don't yet seem to suspicious of Arl.

Arl gives the men a smile of feigned relief and falls into line behind them, silently reciting a prayer to the God-Emperor that Marcella would be able to get the logs.

[Bennosuke]

Orl and Hound depart from the upstairs library, and begin moving down the hallway as directed. As they walk, a commotion can be heard far farther down the corridor. Even when they get to entrance for the saltwater pool, they can hear a man's voice belligerently hollering, "Do you know who I am? Hah, I eat swine like you for breakfast!" The pool room itself is magnificent, the floor completely covered with the finest pink sand, creating a small beach around the sparkling lap pool. Heat wafts from the room, piped in from large round lead pipes overhead. A group of strangely dressed partygoers are lounging by the pool. From their dress alone they look like off worlders, and the four don't seem to be enjoying themselves in the same way as the rest of the partygoers.

Again the man's voice from down the hall, "I've gutted men twice your size for such buffoonery!"

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

The two workers fall slightly silent as Arl falls in line with them, leaving Marcella alone. After about fifty paces, the thinner man speaks, "How long ya been on shift? This is our 16th hour. Almost time to clock out," His fair voice is filled with exhaustion, his shoulders slumped to almost ovular as he and his companion trundle down the hall.

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

With Arl leading the two away, Marcella is clear to continue her passage deeper into the ship, unless there is something she would prefer to do first.

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Her figure crouched low and blended in with her surroundings, Marcella made her way to the cockpit where she could access the transponder codes and flight logs. That was, unless, she knew somewhere else she could gain them aboard the ship.

[Haval]

Orla is surprised that there was an actual swimming pool in here. To Hound, 'I can't believe anyone just has a place like this in their house. What if all the water leaks?'

On the shouts, 'Do we want to see what that's about? I take it he's not actually going to gut anyone in the middle of all this.'

[rax]

"Then the drudging classes will clean it up," Hound answers.

"Yes, let us see what the commotion is about. Then we can return to see what our "fellow" off-worlders are so glum about," he says.

[Wyndeward]

The two workers fall slightly silent as Arl falls in line with them, leaving Marcella alone. After about fifty paces, the thinner man speaks, "How long ya been on shift? This is our 16th hour. Almost time to clock out," His fair voice is filled with exhaustion, his shoulders slumped to almost ovular as he and his companion trundle down the hall.

Arl gave a non-committal grunt, then gave a rueful-seeming smirk. "Been here a couple of hours, with the rest of a double shift to look forward to."

[Bennosuke]

Marcella pads her way down the corridor, descending into the darkness of the ship. After several wrong turns she is able to find the control room or cockpit, that has the navigation cogitator. For once things go right for the psyker, who is able to quickly rifle through the travel logs shared by the skiff and the Rogue Trader's primary vessel docked in orbit above. It takes about fifteen minutes to print out records going back over the last three years, gathered on rolls of parchment.

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

Meanwhile, the two dock hands lead Arl back through the ship, and down the exit ramp into the bay. The conversation is rather stilted, and by the end of it, Arl can tell the two are looking at him queerly. But the dock hands are too exhausted and too simple minded to investigate, and with tired waves, leave at the base of the ship to go clock out. Outside the vessel, Arl is surrounded again by the clamorous noises of machines and motorized repair tools, and the calls of dock hands to each other as they continue to prepare the ship for takeoff.

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

Hound and Orla walk farther down the hall toward the sound of the surly man's voice. Another five doors down, they come to a half open door where inside a group of men and women appear to be playing cards. The source of the voice is a man standing with his back to the door, his red coat mantled with the fur of some strange xenos pelt. The man is well built and dark skinned, his long braided hair dyed richly with purples and reds. The man is still berating someone at the table, though whomever it is can't be seen behind his massive figure.

A terrified voice on the other side of the table is apologizing, saying they are sorry over and over, though the standing man is having nothing of it, accusing them of being a lying sniveling cheat.

Then the man in the red coat turns to face Orla and Hound at the door, his blue eyes filled with fury. "Is there something I can help you two with," the man asks. His face is weathered, and a long dueling scar pulls down from his left cheek to where his jaw meets his neck.

[Haval]

Then the man in the red coat turns to face Orla and Hound at the door, his blue eyes filled with fury. "Is there something I can help you two with," the man asks. His face is weathered, and a long dueling scar pulls down from his left cheek to where his jaw meets his neck.

Orla will lean on the edge of the door frame. 'It's ok. I just wanted to see what all the shouting was about in case someone was getting violent. What did he do anyway?'

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

Marcella pads her way down the corridor, descending into the darkness of the ship. After several wrong turns she is able to find the control room or cockpit, that has the navigation cogitator. For once things go right for the psyker, who is able to quickly rifle through the travel logs shared by the skiff and the Rogue Trader's primary vessel docked in orbit above. It takes about fifteen minutes to print out records going back over the last three years, gathered on rolls of parchment.

The banks of computer screens drained the color from Marcella's face as she stood there in the dimly lit cockpit, smiling from ear to ear as the soft thud-thud-click of the printer worked its magic. Once all of the rolls had been produced, their faces covered with the beautiful writing that would tell them so much, the Psyker hurriedly stuffed them down the front of her coveralls before departing the cockpit.

Still blending into her surroundings, Marcella would smile and 'inhale' the scent and atmosphere of the ship for one last time until departing, quietly making her way outside and looking for Arl. Once she had found him, she approached, her image still reflecting that of whatever was behind her.

"Psst - Arl!" her voice excitedly giggled from the shadows.

"I got a bunch of print outs; we should probably bail!"

[Wyndeward]

Marcella

The banks of computer screens drained the color from Marcella's face as she stood there in the dimly lit cockpit, smiling from ear to ear as the soft thud-thud-click of the printer worked its magic. Once all of the rolls had been produced, their faces covered with the beautiful writing that would tell them so much, the Psyker hurriedly stuffed them down the front of her coveralls before departing the cockpit.

Still blending into her surroundings, Marcella would smile and 'inhale' the scent and atmosphere of the ship for one last time until departing, quietly making her way outside and looking for Arl. Once she had found him, she approached, her image still reflecting that of whatever was behind her.

"Psst - Arl!" her voice excitedly giggled from the shadows.

"I got a bunch of print outs; we should probably bail!"

Arl reacted with a brief instant of startlement, then allowed himself to relax and smile.

Mission accomplished, then." he said in a low tone. "Let us see about getting out of here. It would be a shame to get caught at this late juncture.

With that Arl lowered his head and unfocused his eyes and began to move towards the exit, going with the movement of the masses and allowing himself to flow with currents of the crowd.

[BananaPhone]

Marcella


The Psyker smiled happily, Arl's words reassuring her that she had done a good job.

Quietly, she fell in behind the Assassin and followed him towards the exit.

[Bennosuke]

The man in the red coat glowers at Orla. "The fool tried to cheat me at cards," he grunts, glancing behind him momentarily, one hand on his hip. He raises an eyebrow at Orla and says, "And who the hell are you? You speak like a slum rat from the underhive of this Throne forsaken city." The man's gaze drifts from Orla, to Hound, then back again.

[Haval]

The man in the red coat glowers at Orla. "The fool tried to cheat me at cards," he grunts, glancing behind him momentarily, one hand on his hip. He raises an eyebrow at Orla and says, "And who the hell are you? You speak like a slum rat from the underhive of this Throne forsaken city." The man's gaze drifts from Orla, to Hound, then back again.

'Well frankly milord, anyone who cheats at cards should expect that someone's going to try and stab them. You'll get no argument from me.' Orla smiles. She does not care about the allegeded cheater. 'As long as you're ok with how the security people are going to take it.'

On the second point, 'The people I work for hire from a lot of places. Is that a problem?' Did she need to ask Marcella to teach her how to lose the accent?

[rax]

"I am Adept Third Class Toomes, personal secretary to His Excellency, Master Philius Jarkov of Carcus. The Master has recently arrived from off-world and felt it would be useful to hire local talent. This one came highly recommended as a security specialist. Whatever her failings in matters of language and etiquette, she has so far not disappointed in her assigned role," Hound intervenes to explain Orla's presence.

[Bennosuke]

The man shrugs at Orla's first reply, even chuckling at her suggestion about a stabbing. He replies, "Unfortunately, such an action would probably be frowned on by our host," his voice filled with humor. He even pauses for a moment to lay a playful glare at the man behind him.

He raises his eyebrow with curiosity when she speaks about the people she works for, and this only seems to intensify when Hounds peaks up. "I see," he says, studying Hound's face, the man's head tilting slightly to the side. After a moment's pause he adds slowly, "Lovely place; Carcus. Can't say I've heard of the Jarkov's... though I suppose it's a big enough place." After this he shrugs, and half to the group behind him, and half to the two interluders, the man in the big red coat says, "Very well then. Shall we return to our game... assuming everyone is going to play by the rules from now on?"

(OOC: Not kicking your characters out but encouraging you to dig deeper if you want to keep up the conversation)