[DW] Blackthorn/Swordhand: Episode III - The Sundered House

[Mazer Rackham]

"The Lady Lythea has been on Syndalla for nine standard months with a small retinue of trusted agents and acolytes - I can provide you with their details via data-slate for you to familiarise yourselves during transit. Her astropathic communications indicated that she had begun her search in the rural farmlands and uncovered evidence that genestealers were certainly on-planet. Her investigation was conducted secretly as she suspected the Planetary Governor may be compromised. She reasoned that a decapitating strike - killing the Broodlord xenoform - would throw the enemy into disarray. Hence her astropathic requests for aid from the Deathwatch. I have not heard from her for two weeks now."

 

Too casual.  The way he spoke about his "Mistress" was at odds with his previous passion.  Evan a man such as that - any mortal - should have been more careful around line Astartes, but hovering around a peerless warrior like the Watch Captain and Brother Torvald speaking to him almost as an equal?   Akkad's eyes narrowed, but he smiled as the Interrogator held out the data slate, but there was no warmth in it.

 

"And if the inquisitor herself has been compromised?" The Raptor spoke with all the grimness of a gallows and the insight of a flawless mirror.  It was a question Akkad had strayed from, but this Son of Corax had done them all a service and showed some of what was on his mind.  There were many here whose counsel was worthy Akkad thought.

 

Daon paused to allow the question to take root.  He nodded his thanks at the Interrogator and moved to take the proffered data slate, extending his hand slowly so as to not arouse suspicion.  The light glinted off the fingertips of his left, silver-shod hand, revealing the tips had been machined into feline like claws.  He took the moment of distraction by Atratus to examine the man now he was only arm's length away.

 

OOC: GM, I'd like to make a scrutiny check on Ryken, I am looking for hidden weapons, bionics, anything that would be immediately out of the ordinary?

 

MR.

Edited February 24, 2018 by Mazer Rackham

[Xin Ceithan]

A surgical strike then. Sabaan nodded, almost unnoticeable, at the Watch Captain's explanation. A more effective use of the force at hand, certainly. The situation detailed by the mortal Interrogator did nothing to convince him of such an approach, however. If the planetary government was compromised, the local defence forces would most likely have been subverted, too. A decapitating strike would require a sufficient number of mortals still loyal to the Imperium to take advantage of the situation once the strike force would have completed their objective. Otherwise, it would only delay the inevitable and risk further contamination. There were still too many unknowns to readily embrace a strategy yet.

The question posed by the Raptor -Atratus, he corrected himself- was solid and would have to be expanded upon. If the Inquisitor had been uncovered and the enemy already alerted, the Kill team would face a much more difficult operation. If the mortal had been compromised.. The request for the DeathWatch might already be a set up to neutralize them and thus weaken the already thinned out Imperial forces in the Expanse further.

 

Sabaan focused his senses on the Interrogator. His personal experiences with the Inquisition was rather limited. Actually, his experience with any mortal not in the service of his Clan were limited. As a mortal, however, he was an even more potentially unreliable ally than another Astartes by definition already. The Flesh was weak, after all. The mantra cut through his considerations.He closed his organic eye and focused his thoughts. .I am an Iron Hand. I will not walk into a potential trap at the behest of incompetent mortals, surrounded by uncertain allies.Such folly died at Istvaan.

 

He felt his organic eye narrowing. The lense of it's bionic counterpart mirrored the subconscious response. We will need to undertake our own investigations and must perform reconnaissance on our own before striking. Once more, Sabaan regretted not being able to uplink and exchange information as we would have within a combat clade of his Chapter. At this point, he would have welcomed even a limited verbal exchange via a closed vox channel. We will have to discuss this more privately, he thought, away from the mortal. He returned to his obversations, wondering who of his new Battlebrothers to approach on the matter...

[Commissar Molotov]

GM: Mazer, roll a Perception Test (+0) to discern what you can of the Interrogator. 

 

"And if the inquisitor herself has been compromised?"

 

The Raptor's question hangs heavily in the air for a second. The Interrogator gapes, as though entirely unprepared.

 

"Then you will ensure that the necessary steps are taken to ensure Syndalla remains proof against the predation of the Xenos." The words come from the Watch-Captain, his face grim. "We cannot predict the exact circumstances that you will face on Syndalla. You must act independently, under the ancient mandates of our Chapter. Act justly." 

[Slips]

Solastion straightened further at the mention of the Inquisitrix possibly being compromised. Pertinent. he thought, afterall, if they were to plan for any and all possibilities with regards to the mission, this was probably one of the greater ones in terms of priority for landing on-world into a trap would definitely complicate things substantially for them.

 

Regardless, as the Interrogator spoke, Solastions opinion of him soured - not even a full Inquisitor yet and here he was speaking to us and the Watch-Captain as if we were mere underlings... he thought. He relaxed his grip on his chainsword and crossed his arms before him before he spoke again.

 

”Will the Interrogator be joining us as we make planetfall? If the Inquisitrix hasn’t made contact in the past two weeks then we can assume that, best case scenario, shes gone into hiding to avoid this...cult...and having a friendly pair of eyes on the ground that knows the environs will be a boon no pre-planning could provide as to avoid us wasting our time.” and he stared at the Interrogator as he gave his datapad to Akkad trying to get a measure of the man: was he brave or was he a coward?

[Mazer Rackham]

GM: Mazer, roll a Perception Test (+0) to discern what you can of the Interrogator. 

 

 

Perception Check: Target 50, D100  = 21, 2 DoS.

 

I'm happy for a PM to keep anything to myself for the moment Mol.

 

MR.

[Steel Company]

Tyber stood his ground, watching and listening to those around him, but this mortal that would dare stand his equal, no his superior, something about this felt wrong. He noted to himself to watch this human, for arrogance with ambition is a dangerous combination.

[Commissar Molotov]

GM: 

 

Akkad:

 

 

 

You take the data-slate, and also advantage of the Interrogator seemingly being thrown off-guard by the Raptor's question. It is rare for some of the Astartes to interact with ordinary humans, apart from the attendant serfs and subservient helots of your Chapters. You perhaps have a greater idea, having served with the human auxilia of the Tyrant's Legion. 

 

The Interrogator wears a hooded robe that shrouds most of his form. He wears a breastplate emblazoned with a holy warrior spearing a xenos of indeterminate form. He wears a sword at his waist, far smaller than any weapons carried by your compatriots. His face is pale, bearded and you get the glimpse of eyes that contain a mixture of pride, anger and - yes- fear. But despite your natural distrust of the agents of the Inquisition, you don't discern obvious falsehood in his manner. 

 

All:

 

Ryken speaks.

 

"I was given orders that did not involve the investigation into Syndalla. I have not visited the planet myself, and know only the broadest strokes of her actions.With that said, should you feel your operation would benefit from my presence, I will accompany you. The Conclave will not look kindly on me should my mistress be lost. I will do what I must to take up her mantle." 

Edited February 25, 2018 by Commissar Molotov

[Xin Ceithan]

"So, in summary, you are here to plead for help."

Sabaan kept his voice low. He felt a familiar ire rising in him in response to such mortal weakness. For moment, he felt an overriding need to punish the puny human in some way, any way for his failings. His armor lucked the growl, eager for conflict. The Iron Hand pictured himself dragging the lump body to a holding cell where the miserable wrench could cower in fear and await the results of the strike team's action in contemplative misery. Sabaan took a deep breath. It was a thoroughly conscious move. His biomechanical form had hardly begun using any of his oxygen reserves since entering the Strategium. But it helped him clear his mind. He took another breath. His implants responded, claiming the beating of his hearts, cooling his body. While being an exponentially decreasing source of information, the Interrogator was still a member of the Inquisition. As such, he might still be of use in navigation among the mortal institutions on Syndala.

Nycax decided to consider him a some form of access code unfortunately contained in a rather frustrating organic shell.

"I believe you should still accompany us. At best, it will at least offer you the opportunity to overcome your short comings. If not, you will die without having to face the wrath of your Elders."

[Dosjetka]

"You must act independently, under the ancient mandates of our Chapter. Act justly."

 

Such power given to a loose band of warriors who share only the most tenous bonds of trust and brotherhood... a sense of disbelief overcame Vaidan.

 

While his mind tried to come to terms with the Watch-Captains words and trust, the Novamarine did his best to continue focussing on the interaction between various Astartes and the sole human in the room, Interrogator Ryken. The man's reaction to the suggestion that his mistress might be in some way compromised betrayed a blind devotion that made him incapable of imagining such a scenario.

 

Vaidan decided to speak up now as the hostility against the Interrogator increased.

 

"I support the idea of you accompanying us, Interrogator. Seeing as you were selected by the Inquisition, you have no doubt received considerable training and gathered invaluable experience. I believe you have many potential uses, especially since you are the only regular-sized individual here."

Edited February 25, 2018 by Chaplain Dosjetka

[Commissar Molotov]

Watch-Captain Diocles presses the activation rune again, and the hololithic table goes dark. 

 

"If there are no further questions, then you may depart. See the Master of the Forge to ensure your arms and armour are ready for deployment. You will be transferred to the Voice of Thunder and prepare for Warp-Transit. Before your arrival to Syndalla, you must appoint a Squad Leader. Whether that decision is made through consensus, force of arms or some other means, that decision falls to you." You again receive the sense that this is some sort of unspoken test.  

 

++++++++++++++++++

 

GM: I am going to do the 'Preparation' phase somewhat out of order in order to fit the needs of what I wish to happen. We will undertake the 'arming' phase first. 

 

You all have a renown of 0 (Initiated) but the mission has a difficulty that generates 180 renown. Between nine of you, that's about 20 renown each. You may look at Chapter V of the Deathwatch rulebook to get a sense of what you can request from the Master of the Forge - you are able to pool your requisition if you can agree to do so. 

 

You need only list your final selections here - you don't need to roleplay an interaction with the Master of the Forge - but you may feel free to conduct your discussions in the OOC thread. 

[Mazer Rackham]

"If there are no further questions, then you may depart. See the Master of the Forge to ensure your arms and armour are ready for deployment. You will be transferred to the Voice of Thunder and prepare for Warp-Transit. Before your arrival to Syndalla, you must appoint a Squad Leader. Whether that decision is made through consensus, force of arms or some other means, that decision falls to you."

 

Akkad made a mental note to hand the Data-slate to Sabaan for a more thorough investigation.  He was not best pleased that the Interrogator was coming, to watch or second guess them, but he brightened a little at the challenge posed by Solastion - that was indeed well played.  A frown crossed his face, gone before anyone witnessed and his jaw and brows settled back into that familiar stern visage.

 

He did have further questions - but the manner of the Captain and the lack of anything more definite than an underlying "appraise as encountered" made them all moot.  The team would just have work the problems through.

 

Problems.  As he resumed his place within the semi-circle of brethren at the railing surrounding the holo-table, he sighed inwardly. Without a decisive choice from the Watch Captain as to who would lead the Kill Team, it would be open for challenge.  This posed no problem to him working under the direction of another, even more junior Astartes - a young mind was fresh and the different Chapters here had myriad approaches to problems that the Astral Claws may not have even considered - but what if Varvost sought the position?  Personal glory in battle did not serve the interests of your men - when they were humans they could be ignored, replaced or overlooked - the mere presence of such a man as Varvost amongst the Tyrant's Legion would drive them all forward regardless - but Space Marines?  Too valuable.  Each a link in a chain unbroken for ten-thousand years.  He would not allow that.  Strangers to him the others may be - but they were Marines.

 

No, the real problem here was that any Kill Team leader would be constantly up against the questions and opinions of others, his voice having agency, but no authority.  Save the authority of a Chainaxe.

 

Each problem like a grain of sand - each night I inherit the Desert - the thought, words said by Chapter Master Rovik Blake came unbidden.

 

A cold smile etched onto his lips.  One bridge at a time Daon, one bridge at a time.

 

MR.

Edited February 25, 2018 by Mazer Rackham

[Slips]

As the Watch-Captain spoke about seeing ourselves to the Armorium to acquire the gear the Kill-Team would be bringing along on the mission, Solastion looked around the room to see if any of the assembled Marines would be the first to act.

 

The mention of squad leader not being appointed by the Captain was odd indeed. Of those present, none had, thus far, struck him as leadership material and having to take the position through force of arms seemed like a rather fruitless endeavor since, if something were to go awry during any possible honor duels for the right to command I'd rather not have to tend to completely avoidable injuries where possible. He mused, brow furrowing slightly at the thought.

 

He could take up the mantle himself, but command was not his primary concern and would only serve to distract him from his main concern: the well being of this motley assembly of Battle-Brothers. But, if his Gene-Cousin were to try and take the reins...Might have to step in if that were to occur. Seeing as the rest of the squad didn't react to favorably to his arrival or his answer to the question posed by Brother Akkad.

 

Assessing the situation as it arose would probably be the most prudent course of action; no point in trying to preempt something that might not even end up being an issue.

 

He was glad to know, however, that the Interrogator would be stepping up to the challenge he had posed but, again, he said something that rankled him "The Conclave will not look kindly on me should my mistress be lost. I will do what I must to take up her mantle." Curious... He thought.

 

After waiting a minute or two to see if any other marine would leave before he did, Solastion takes a step back from the hololith display's rail and signs the aquila to the Brother-Captain and nods curtly to the Interrogator. "Then, let us not waste any time. Many thanks for this Brother-Captain, Interrogator." and he turns to the rest of the squad "I shall meet you all aboard the Voice of Thunder's medical bay for a routine examination so that I may come to better understand those under my care and how to best minister to them should the need arise." and he shall make his way to the Armorium before transferring onto the Voice of Thunder.

[Steel Company]

With the conclusion of the Watch Captian's briefing, Tyber turned to his cousins, no brothers he reminded himself again, "Brothers I am happy to serve under whom ever knows the best way to face this threat. In the meantime I will head to the librarium to request copies of what ever data I can have in regards to this foe and world that we are heading too... There is much I need to know."

 

Taking a moment to bow his head to those in the room, Tyber hurried off to his chambers to gather his equipment on his way to both the forge and librarium before heading to the ship.

[Mazer Rackham]

Akkad watched quietly as the other Marines made their excuses and left.  He banged his fist to chest plastron, saluting in the warriors' way, bowing deeply to the Watch Captain.  He ignored the human completely.  Recovering his posture a thought struck him.  His green eyes fixed upon the Novamarine - Vaidan and he spoke evenly, neither in command or supplication.  The voice of an equal to an equal.

 

"Brother Vaidan, you are a void-farer like myself.  I intend to inspect the Voice of Thunder and would appreciate your wisdom upon her capabilities - by your will my Captain of course."

 

A smile deep inside.  This was probably the most he had spoken all day - maybe all week.  He had wanted to avoid politics, but it would have to start now.  He only hoped he was right.

 

MR.

[Commissar Molotov]

Watch-Captain Diocles nods his assent. 

 

"You may do as you wish in the limited time available to you. As I mentioned - remember that the Voice of Thunder is not a vessel of the Deathwatch. Captain Dimitar serves the Imperial Navy, and assists the Deathwatch at the pleasure of the admiralty. You have a great measure of latitude whilst you prosecute your mission, but the Captain is lord of his domain, and if you are to secure his cooperation that should be recognised and respected."

[Dosjetka]

Satisfied that the Interrogator was accompanying them, the Novamarine made a mental note to make sure the rules of engagement were crystal clear in the man's mind. Vaidan did not want him running around believing his percieved authority would have much effect on the Astartes and their decision-making once the mission was underway. As far as Khyber was concerned, Ryken was simply another tool at their disposal, nothing more nothing less.

 

The Novamarine bade farewell to the Watch-Captain with an Aquila sign and a deep bow, before turning and heading towards the armourium. A voice calling out his name stopped him in his tracks. The Astral Claw had turned to face him and was asking for him to join in the inspection of the Voice of Thunder. Khyber flashed a warm smile and adopted a more relaxed posture than the one he had maintained during the mission briefing.

 

"Aye, I have seen my fair share of the void, brother, and am glad to hear that I am not the only one here. What was your role in your Chapter fleet?"

[Mazer Rackham]

"Aye, I have seen my fair share of the void, brother, and am glad to hear that I am not the only one here. What was your role in your Chapter fleet?"

 

Akkad takes a moment to meet the eyes and nod to the other Astartes present in farewell as he approached Vaidan, stepping steadily.  The Novamarine seemed to relax and offered him a warm smile at the prospect of a welcome topic.  Akkad's smile in reply was thin, but it carried through in his eyes, a temporary thawing of the chill barrier between him and the worlds he found himself in.  At least Vaidan seemed sincere - he had openly welcomed the other Marines as he had openly despised the war-machine that was Varvost.  His passion for humanity was plain - a tactical mind behind a welcoming face.

 

Such a difference to Badab and the chill airs and graces of the Noble houses, brashly calling out their rights, their entitlements, even as Akkad himself had struck them down.  A gruff bark of a laugh almost escaped him as he remembered with striking clarity, the knotted resistance of crunching his chainsword into High Master Volentio, leader of the House most responsible for Akkad's own family being exiled to the streets.  The cold satisfaction was...fitting.  Then, like an uninvited and unwelcome guest the guilt and shame he had felt afterwards.  House Fortano had done nothing to him.  He had watched as they were cut to pieces by Bolter fire.  The Tyrant's Will.  They had all shouted it at the time.  How foolish they were, how wrong.  How young.

 

He snapped back to the present, his mind racing to reply to Vaidan, keen to accept the warmth there.  The cold always was.

 

"Ah, now that is a question Brother.  I served on many ships of the line as a member of many boarding teams, of which I will speak - but first, let me tell you about a Rogue Trader..."

 

Akkad gestured for Vaidan to lead on - the Armourium first, then, this ship and her master.  Diocles had spoken well and truly.  The Emperor was master of the Universe, but a Captain was master of his ship.

 

MR.

Edited February 27, 2018 by Mazer Rackham

[Nineswords]

GREYSIGHT VIII

Restoration

THE BRIEFING WAS concluded at the behest of Watch-Captain Dioclese, and Greysight left the strategium quickly, ignoring the inevitable chatter of his new brothers and headed straight for the armourium.

As he walked, Greysight considered the mission. A surgical strike to diagnose and appraise the situation at hand was the most sensible course of action. If one could cut out the cancer before it could take root, then Syndalla would be spared from the fires of exterminatus. The interrogator, Ryken, was a liability, and whilst Greysight wasn't perturbed by his perceived lack of respect to the astartes, the interrogator was clearly hiding something.

Then there were the others. The natural order was still asserting itself, evidenced by the Giant's initial posturing withering over the course of the briefing. The others, particularly the Angel, the Lion and the Novamarine Vaidan, were the talkers in the group and no doubt would make a bid to take mission lead. That suited Greysight just fine. The Hawk kept himself quiet, and the Iron Hand was as inhuman as all his kind, which left the Wolf and the Killer, Vârvost. Greysight doubted either would claim authority over the kill-team; the Eradicator was too cold and the Space Wolf's status was established by dint of accompanying the Watch-Captain to begin with. This, Greysight surmised, made both reliable when it came down to it, neither possessing an ego that would compromise their combat abilities.

The Storm Son's reverie was broken as he entered the Watch-Station's armourium. Though in keeping with the rest of Azurea's vaulted architecture, the Watch-Station's tranquility was dispelled as Greysight passed through solid steel doors three metres thick into the forge. The first impression of the armorium was the punishing noise of machinery, as motorised tools ceaselessly hammered and whined. The forge was a vast space, though it barely contained the activity within, as dozens of personnel streamed between workstations and arming cradles of varying scales. Ebon-clad techmarines stalked between the groups, supervising the toil. Here, adeptus mechanicus and their servitors tended to a hulking dreadnought's sarcophagus in a web of neural bundles and power plugs. There, Inquisitorial artificers restored and maintained hundreds of artefacts of varying design and origin.

Despite the activity, it did not take long for Greysight to identify the Master of the Forge he had encountered just over a week ago. Walking over, the Storm Son could not help but admire the dizzying array of weaponry on display. Most were Imperial, though of newer and more advanced designs that Greysight was accustomed, as well as weapons that were clearly of xenos origin: wicked blades crafted by the despicable aeldari, bastardised and comically chunky auto-guns of the greenskins. There were even several slender rail-guns employed by the Tau of the Eastern Fringes in various states of disassembly.

The red-helmed forgemaster looked up from the power-armoured gauntlet he was tending to as Greysight approached, though his servo-arm manipulators continued to work. The Storm Son bowed.

'Sitai-Ezen, it is good to see you again,' said Greysight in greeting. The techmarine inclined his head slightly, as if accessing a particular memory.

'Greysight. I can only assume you are here on the Watch-Captain's orders and awaiting arming and requisition.' The forgemaster's rumbled reply, though tinny through the vox-grille of his helmet, was clear even over the din of the forge. The servo-arm suddenly stopped and retracted as the forgemaster stood.

'This way,' commanded the forgemaster, and both astartes threaded their way through the vast space towards a set of arming cradles beyond the main work areas. As the warriors approached, an Inquisitorial artificer greeted them, bowing stiffly and splaying his hands across his chest in the sign of the aquila. They were led by the serf to an arming cradle that contained the Storm Son's renovated armour.

The battle suit was clearly recognisable and retained its aura of brutality, dotted with monomolecular bonding studs that spoke of the power armour's long history. However, gone was the verdigris of the bronze electroplating, in its place was the dull black sheen of the Deathwatch. The blackened and dented aquila of Deluge was restored, proudly gleaming silver in the phosphor lamps of the forge, emblazoned with the lightning strike sigil of the Great Khan. A pauldron once encrusted with greenskin gore had been scoured bare, revealing the lightning corona chapter symbol of the Storm Sons etched into the bronze. The left arm had also been cleansed, and was now a polished silver accompanied by a new pauldron, also of polished silver, bands of acid-etched gothic lettering surrounding the skull device of the Deathwatch. Greysight nodded in approval, impressed by the work.

On cue, arming serfs and servitors approached and began the rites of armament, the dirge somehow cutting through the ambient noise of the forge. Greysight divulged himself of the black chiton, handing his knife and a lock of hair pinched in a bronze tube to the artificer, and stepped into the cradle. The whir of servos began in earnest as various pieces of armour began to be drilled into place. Greysight grunted as the first neural socket was plugged in, meshing with his black carapace that powered the armour's internal systems.

The forgemaster spoke, ignoring the hub of activity around the Storm Son. 'I have taken the liberty of making some modifications to your armour and weaponry to optimise your combat ability. Your armour in particular was in need of repair, and some of its internal servo systems have been upgraded. Further, based on the particulars of your mission to Syndalla, your boltgun now has an additional prey-sense scope, and I've requisitioned additional Hellfire rounds for you.'

'Hellfire rounds?' asked Greysight.

'A modified ammunition type containing cores filled with mutagenic acid, that will disintegrate tyranid bio-armour at a molecular level,' answered the forgemaster. 'It's efficacy is satisfactory.'

The armament proceeded, with serfs and servitors making the observances required to appease the armour's machine spirit. Gauntlets, greaves, an ebon helmet, and the rest. Last to be drilled in place was a silver rimmed roundel, emblazoned with the Khorchin shadow-rune arankui, from which a faded yellow tabard hung. Stepping out from the arming cradle, Greysight took the knife and knotted hair from the armourer without comment. With reverential care, he mag-locked the bronze tube of hair to the inside rim of his new silver pauldron, and Greysight thought he could sense the armour purring smoothly in response.

A good omen.

'Syndalla awaits,' said the forgemaster, handing the Storm Son his boltgun. Greysight dropped to one knee to receive it, in deference to both the forgemaster and the armourers. The forgemaster concluded the rites of armament. 'May the God-Emperor watch over you, and may the Omnissiah guard your armour systems, Storm Son.'

Greysight stood, and nodded once more. Without saying another word, the Storm Son stalked towards the embarkation deck for conveyance to the Voice of Thunder.

Edited March 12, 2018 by Nineswords

[Commissar Molotov]

The Astartes are not, as a rule, prone to sentimentality, and none of you arrived on Azurea with much other than a few keepsakes and your years of combat experience. As such, when the Watch-Captain orders you to transfer to the Voice of Thunder, it does not take long for the nine of you to gather in on of the Station's cargo bays. 

 

Azurea's Forge-Master, Fasumé, stands in the middle of the bay surrounded by monotask servitors mindlessly hauling crates onto the waiting ship. This is no Astartes craft - no Thunderhawk or Storm Raven. This is a flat-nosed, slab-sided cargo conveyor of the sort used by the Imperial Navy, capable of carrying hundreds of Armsmen. 

 

Fasumé is large for an Astartes, and his size is only enhanced further by the bulk of the servo-harness upon his back. The servo-arms move as though they were an extension of his own body - and many of you realise that this is close to the truth. His Chapter, the Marines Ascendant, are rumoured to come from the gene-legacy of Vulkan, and in this craftsman and commander you can see his echo. 

 

As you gather, he nods to Greysight and makes the symbol of the cog to Sabaan. His interactions with the rest of you during your tenure have been curt, and this is no exception. 

 

"I have received your requisition requests. Any equipment you are not already carrying and any items released unto you have been stowed already, and you will have access to them aboard the Navy vessel." One servo-arm indicates the Conveyor. "Respect the war-spirits of your wargear, and they will see you home again." 

 

He hands Sabaan a data-slate. 

 

GM:

 

180 Requisition

 

Atratus (A.T.) - TOTAL 25REQ

- "Ultra" Pattern Mk. IX Sniper Rifle (25) 

 

Daon Akkad (Mazer Rackham) - TOTAL 12REQ

- Auspex (12) 

 

Khyber Vaidan (Dosjetka) - TOTAL 20REQ

- 1x Hellfire Rounds Clip (Bolter) (0)

- 1x Photon Flash Flare (5)

- 1x Hopper Mine (5) 

- Flamer (10)

 

Tyber (Steel Company) - TOTAL 0REQ

 

Solastion Albikus (Slips) - TOTAL 20REQ

- Diagnostor Helmet (15)

- Godwyn Bolter (5) 

 

Nycax Sabaan (Xin Ceithan) - TOTAL 35REQ

- Omni-Tool (25)

- Recoil Baffling (Bolter Upgrade) (10)

 

 Greysight (Nineswords) - TOTAL 18REQ

- Hellfire Rounds Clip (Bolter) (0)

- Preysense Sight (10)

- 2x Astartes Cluster Mines (8) 

 

Varvost (NPC) - TOTAL 22REQ

- 2x Metal Storm Clips (Pistol) (15)

- Astartes Assault Shotgun (7) 

 

Thorvald (NPC) - TOTAL 20 REQ

- Frag Cannon (20) 

 

 

2x Medicae Pouch (8 Req)

 

 

 

 

It does not take long before you are aboard the Conveyor. Its seats are not designed for the sheer bulk of an Astartes in warplate, and you are forced to stand as the vessel departs with a thunderous roar.  For your part, this seems positively pleasant compared to the screaming hell of drop-pod insertion. 

 

++Worry not, Interrogator.++ Vârvost, having donned his armoured helm, seems positively cheerful through the grinding of his vox-speakers. ++It will be over soon.++

 

The Interrogator, Ryken, looks positively bilious as the whole craft shudders. He nods almost to steady himself, looking up gratefully at the Eradicator standing above him. 

 

++After all, if anything happens to this sow of a craft, you'll be dead before your body realises it.++ 

 

The sound of vomit splattering against the deck of the craft mingles with Vârvost's throaty chuckle as he turns and stomps down the hold. 

Edited February 28, 2018 by Commissar Molotov

[Steel Company]

Once aboard the vessel, Tyber kept his helm looking forward, as his eyes kept looking at the Interrogator, fixated on the patch identifying him as a servant of the Inquisition. His features formed a frown, thankful for the face plate of his helm to hide his disgust at that symbol on a mortal human. How many times have my brothers in my home chapter suffered due to these mortals…. He pondered to himself, recounting no less than eight separate ‘witch hunts’ with in his Chapter, looking for corruption where none was present. The latest of these ended with a chapter master meeting there end at the wrong end of a Vindaicare’s bullet. Sighing quietly to avoid it transmitting over the vox, Tyber reminded himself that this Interrogator was part of a different branch and was not likely involved during any of the past attempts to persecute the Dragons of Caliban, not unless he found a way to cheat death for two millenniums and avoid the attention of those he works with.

 

Under his helm Tyber rolls his eyes at the interrogator, his mind shot back to the briefing room with this human trying to establish himself their equal, yet he is unable to keep his constitution on a ship barely moving, this exasperation escaped his lips, loud enough to be caught by the vox pick up, a low amused tone rang out from the speaker: +++Mortals….+++

 

Pushing past the interrogator while heading in a different direction from Varvost, Tyber heads off to find an area of the ship to start looking over the data pad, for as much information that the Libraians had allowed him to bring with him on the world and the foe they face.  Adjusting his back and shoulders that felt a little off due to the extra bulk of the jump pack, something he was not accustomed too, Tyber linked the data slate to his heads up display to allow visual and audio data to play for him, while watching the crew of the ship go about their business. Watching the crew brought Tyber a moment of peace, such simple and mundane creatures when compared to him, he couldn’t help but wonder at what they may have already seen or will see in their short lives.

Edited March 1, 2018 by Steel Company

[Dosjetka]

As Vârvost and Tyber stomped down their respective corridors, Vaidan could not suppress a rising feeling of disgust.

 

"We were all once mortals, never forget that."

 

He shook his head. "Such nauseating arrogance," he thought.

 

The Novamarine tried to vent his thoughts and relax. After a few moments spent reciting a mantra taught to him by his Scout Sergeant, he looked at Akkad.

 

"Come, brother. I suggest we retrieve our requisitioned equipment and explore this vessel. I have never been aboard a ship like this one so I am curious to see what she has in her. I prefer knowing the layout of this ship before we get boarded."

Edited February 28, 2018 by Chaplain Dosjetka

[Slips]

”Come now, Interrogator, this is nothing compared to drop pod insertion. Have a drink of water and, if necessary, find a viewport to maintain visual contact on a horizon to steady the sickness. Should it persist, come find me and I’ll administer a stimulant - much diluted - to ease the malaise.” Solastion says as he places a hand on the interropgators shoulder to steady him. ”And pay no heed to Varvost, in his own way I’m sure he means well...”

 

He then leaves to find the bridge so that he may observe the goings on of the Conveyer central nervous system but stops at his arming station to retirve his temporary helmet and bolter.

 

[ooc] on phone so cant change color to green but: were not on the Voice of Thunder yet, are we? We’re just on a cargo ship thats bringing us to it, right?[/ooc]

Edited February 28, 2018 by Slips

[Commissar Molotov]

GM: That's right - though I think Vaidan's comment can still be justified in the fact that, whilst this is a common and ubiquitous vessel, it's hardly one that would be typically used anywhere near Space Marine operations. 

[Xin Ceithan]

Following the briefing, Sabaan had returned to the Watch Station's Forge. Since his arrival, he had been modifying the Boltgun issued to him upon his arrival so as to better fit to the an Iron Hand's fighting style. A sleek Godwyn pattern, encased in a the crimson of holy Mars, it was it had a hunter's spirit and took to the modifications eagerly. After overseeing the final adjustment rituals, Sabaan performed the benediction of preparation and undertook several rotes of blessing in the firing ranges. It would need further time to ease the linkage and improve the bond between it and his armor, but for the moment, their performance projections were within tolerable margins. Likewise, he had run the diagnostic divinations to ensure his armor was prepared and ready for deployment. Unsurprisingly, the warplate met the expected projections. Sabaan reported to the deployment deck with the precision of a Marian automatic chronometrum

 

On the flight deck, the Iron Hand returned the blessing of the Omnissiah to the Forgemaster. He scanned the Data-Slate With a cursory glance, inloading the data stream into his armors memory banks once the warplate manifold barriers had deemed the data sufficiently pure. He gave the Forgemaster a slight nod. +I look forward to our next game+

[Xin Ceithan]

Post-departure, the Iron Hand had watched the Eviscerator humble the mortal Interrogator. The human's reaction was pitifully but not unexpected. Sadly, while Sabaan's estimations had been cautious, the mortal seemed determined to underscore his projected usefulness. The target numbers dropped among his autosenses as he recast his projections. Varvost's performance was In a way much more concerning. Destabilizing the human before they had even reached their transference vessel served no purpose beyond possible emotionaly and physically draining an already low unaugmented human and would only serve to dimish the mortal's possible benefit to the mission. It was unnecessary, inefficient and wasteful. Another set of numbers tumbled down as Sabaan entered these factors in an already unfavorable equation.

"I suggest you report to the Voice of Thunder's Apothecarium upon arrival, Interrogator. If your physiology is handling a void transfer in this matter, your body should be rehydrated and screened before Warp transit. There a preparations to be made and lacking any noospheric exchange capability I can detect, I predict you will be struggling to offer verbal information and relieve your body of gastric fluids in this way a the same time."

Unlocking his armour, the Iron Hand followed Solastion deeper into the vessel.

A vox request issued from his helmet relay. +Brother Apothecary, may I have a word?+