To Plunder The Stars Themselves, Episode III

[Trokair]

They had made their way back inside; perhaps he had spent a bit too long under the stars after accepting. Stowing his gear in his cell Brynjarr also took of his armour and changed into the simple tunic that had been provided. Functional and reminiscent of the sort of garments he would have worn before his death amongst his wont kind. The intent no doubt to be a unifying force amongst the Iron Gods.

 

Orphiel was waiting him as he stepped into the area that had been set aside for their training, armed with a metal rod of length, weight and width so as to simulate an Astartes sized melee weapon. This was training and practice, and such a simulacrum was sufficient.

 

Bowing to Orphiel Brynjarr stood ready to see how the sparing partner would open.

[Machine God]

Draak had conducted his shift within requisitions dutifully to the letter of the contract, his internal chronometer noted that his wait would soon be over however he waited for the Master Armourer to approach him.

 

Presently the Master Armourer appeared and summoned Draak, "Friend of the Forge your time of work is now ended. Now we go and see if you are worthy of the weapon of power!"

 

"Yes Master Armourer, I am ready" answered Draak. "But first I will leave Grendel here under the watchful eyes of your arms-men and tech thrall's. It wouldn't be prudent to unnecessarily anger a weapon that I intend to subdue to my will."

 

"A wise choice" said the Master Armourer. Draak detached Grendel's ammo feed and watched as it retracted into his backpack, he then placed Grendel down on a weapons holder. Draak then picked a bag of votive candles and an incense brazier on a chain.

 

The Master Armourer waited whilst Draak made his preparations. "I must tell you that ordinarily you wouldn't be even able to be considered to wield a weapon such as the one I will show you, however your rank has increased your standing. The Tyrant has said that the weapon is available to be claimed by all those of rank worthy. Talek Varn dismissed it as beneath him as he favours his axe and Master Sergeant Ghoran favours his power fist, but there have been others that have claimed it and lost."

 

The Master Armourer guided Draak down a wide corridor deeper into the armoury, they travelled through many doors and presently the corridors got wider and higher. Turning around corner they were presented by a high Blast Door that was rolled back into the wall. "Fortuitously it seems that Brother Mharkad has left. He uses this place to re-charge on occasion, no doubt he is watching somewhere or he is on his watch."

 

Brother Mharkad's room was massive and dark, lit by red lights and the stumps of smashed candles, enough room to place a Land Raider. Draak could see a wheel-locked door slightly opposite and to the right of the blast door, the floor was covered in heavy cables affixed to generators.

 

"Even though Brother Mharkad has left, these are still his quarters and as such we must both be very reverent and careful" said the Master Armourer "Only step where I step and say what I say!"

 

Before crossing the threshold of the blast doors, the Master Armourer said "Please excuse us Brother Mharkad, as we traverse your quarters. We seek to relieve you of your temporary guard duty of the weapon of power in the next room."

 

Draak repeated the entreaty and watched as the Master Armourer crossed the room, opened the wheeled door and then entered the other room. Draak then stepped exactly where the Master Armourer had trodden.

 

The wheeled door was itself set into another larger door, presumably so that Brother Mharkad could enter. The room was just as large as the previous one, however it was much less full. Within the room was a central dais, upon which sat a belligerent weapon of power. The weapon was plugged into generators by thick cables and as it fed on the offered power the lights in the room throbbed as if affixed to a heart.

 

"Well there she is Draak" said the Master Armourer as he went over to a wall opposite the weapon. "Subdue it and get it out of my Armourium! But be warned it is a fickle beast, do not under estimate it!" The Master Armourer pointed to a large dent in the wall about six feet above the floor. "This is where it threw Brother Mbo'kamo when he tried to take it!"

 

Draak could feel the waves of power emitted by the weapon! He lit the incense brazier that he had picked up earlier and wafted the incense about the room. He then made the Sign of the Cog with both hands which he showed to each corner of the room and to the weapon. "Oh holy Omnissiah, I am Draak of the Iron Gods, I beseech of you your guidance and strength to subdue this tool and employ it as a weapon in my power. For the Omnissiah!"

 

Draak then lit four votive candles which he placed in a square around the dais. "You shall be mine!" Draak stated as he extruded a power cable from Eisen, he stepped forwards planted his feet firmly and grasped the weapon of power with his left exceptional bionic hand as the power cable of his armour and the one of the weapon met.

 

TICK!

 

Draak entered the common room within the Daggers Thrust that Kill-Team Cutlass had been assigned. He entered as usual with purpose carrying Grendel in his right hand, however his left arm was blackened by fire and he held a Thunder Hammer in his left fist.

 

 

Edited December 20, 2022 by Machine God
Removed Gender

[Mazer Rackham]

When Brynjarr made ready, Orphiel buried his surprise.  Without harness, the Marine sacrificed protection for flexibility.  Interesting.  His weapon was another disarming choice - a blunt sparring device fit for practice.  The qualms he harboured when duelling with the others vanished, this was not a challenge to be overcome, but to be enjoyed, the purity of doing something for the sake of it.

 

The silence of mind when only form mattered, when blows were skill, not force.

 

Orphiel began the dance, advancing, weapon raised, the newly lapped and polished blade throwing a reflection from the lumen globes across his opponent.  He closed swiftly, and the sword leapt forward in a deep lunge towards Brynjarr's guarded side, before vanishing and darting towards his lower ribs to the Breacher's left.

 

Brynjarr was quick, but as the bludgeon flicked to defend, the burly shield arm moved to bring the absent adamantium bulwark tight to his torso.  It was a momentary lapse in balance the Marine immediately compensated for with a slide of his left foot, reflexively bringing his weapon to parry the real threat, but the damage was done, the gap was exploited, and Zachariah's steel tapped the Breacher's torso in a gentle poke.

 

Orphiel withdrew, saying nothing.  The lesson was there for them both, and would inform the next blows.

 

EDIT: Tidied up a bit.

Edited April 8, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Machine God]

Draak observed the strange duel impassively. Had Orphiel sought to test his blade versus the Breacher Shield? It was clear that Brynjarr's choice of 'Sans Armour' had momentarily surprised Orphiel, Draak had noticed a mis-stepping.

 

Draak ran theoretical's.

[Trokair]

As Orphiel advanced, shifting his balance back and for as he decide where to strike and also gauged Brynjarr’s own response. He in turn kept his stance defensive, let the challenger make the first move.   

 

When the strike came, the angle, the glint of the blade, long years of training almost betrayed him as reflexively he went to block with the shield resting against the wall back in the cell. Even as his body moved Brynjar knew the mistake it was and went to correct it, stepping sideways and bringing the weapon round to block. Too little too late, Orphiel had found his opening and scored a hit.

 

As they broke apart Brynjarr nodded in acknowledgment, his mind was still unfocused, and in war that would have been his undoing. A silent cant to seek grandfathers guidance, to meld body and mind into the weapon it was, not the mindless tool it had been as his mind wandered the hull.

 

Having seen the success of the strike he just made would the other expect a mirrored reply. To obvious or to subtle, the answer would be forthcoming as Brynjarr moved in. One step, two, arm, feint to one side, then the lunge.

 

While the question remained unanswered Orphile was safe and whole, but now Brynjarr was close and took the opportunity. Taking the waster in both hands, one on each end and using it akin to a staff he pushed to deliver a full horizontal blow to the torso.

Edited April 8, 2022 by Trokair

[Machine God]

To others that might have observed him, Draak the stoic was proud, he was Ironclad and inviolate. Yet...

 

 

 

Edited December 17, 2022 by Machine God

[Mazer Rackham]

Brynjarr adapted, as all good warriors did, poise altered, a different angle in the defence as they closed again.

 

A quick nod to acknowledge his point before attempting a feint of his own, the Breacher's footwork was more assured now than a moment ago.  Orphiel countered the two jabs, one real, the other a decoy, by keeping his blade in front of his face. He rotated his wrists, no real power, just enough strength to ward the strikes.  Ching, clang, and the metal waster wore a couple of scuffs from the deflection.

 

Closer now to his opponent, the Breacher took advantage, bracing the pole as a short quarterstaff, and thrusting it forward.  Again the adaptation was fresh to the combat, and Orphiel let a small grunt of approval escape his helm, as he took the blade by grip and palm behind the flanged spear tip, to block with the belly of the sword, the crossgaurd blocking the blunt ram heading for his waist to force him back, topple him.

 

He felt Brynjarr's power in resisting his force as he heaved, the weapons bound but for a moment, before the Breacher rolled his shoulders, barging against Orphiel's left pauldron, forcing him onto his back foot with a ringing clang of weapons clashing and scraping free of the clinch.  Brynjarr pressed the attack, using impetus from the break to wield the steel pole one-handed, putting axe-man strength into the simple weapon.

 

Abandoning the quarter-grip, and using the flat of his hand, Orphiel slapped out, robbing the cudgel of any violent terminus, and stepping inside the lunge, past the point to swing his own edge at Brynjarr's shoulder, but as the Marine went forward, he exploited his balance displacement - the way a voidwalker knew - and ducked neatly under the strike, both men turning to face, now at the opposite end of their original places.  His robe fell open.  Brynjarr had snagged the rope-belt keeping it cinched about Orphiel's waist.  He smiled under his helm, but noticing Vesalius gathered vulture-like on his bench, watching the sparring, and Draak staring into the middle distance, he decided it would be wise to let the duel end.

 

+A good move the last,+ he raised his sword in salute, then sheathed it, offering Brynjarr a respectful nod.  +My thanks for the bout.+

 

Re-tying the weighted golden rope, he looked over to see the Ironclad grasping the sturdy maul, cast a sideways glance at Brynjarr.

 

+Are you hanging pictures, Sarjent?+

Edited April 9, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Trokair]

As they stepped back once more, now on opposite sides from where they had started, Brynjarr was initially ready to continue, adjusting his grip on the waster, casting a brief glance over it to inspect it for damage.

 

Orphile however respectfully drew the sparing session to a close. It had been intense if brief, to his mind only warming up. Had he misjudged the others intent in asking? Upon reflection and taking in the room at large it seemed more likely that Draaks arrival was the cause. Regardless of its brevity the bout had helped.

 

“and mine for the company.” He replied.

 

 

+Are you hanging pictures, Sarjent?+

 

An odd choice of words, but no doubt Orphiel was referring to Draak’s new weapon, the hammer in his grasp no mere forging tool. Brynjarr raised an eyebrow, what possible threat would warrant the use he wondered, surly it wasn’t intend as a breaching aide, they had better option than brute force for that.

 

“I hope you are not intending to batter down the airlock of the Pride with that.”

[Necronaut]

Vesalius could scarcely believe his eyes: the brute had managed to secure himself a thunder hammer from the armorium vault on Elysium. The duel had come to an abrupt close as those assembled in the common area gawked at the barely restrained power contained within the thing in Draak's grasp, at the cold malevolence etched upon the steel. The apothecary could not imagine what fell deeds must have been done, what blood-oaths had been sworn to claim such a weapon for Talek Varn's collection of arms. In the hallowed halls of his past life, such implements were traditionally reserved for those who had proven themselves worthy of his chapter's inner circle, the brotherhood-within-a-brotherhood, the most elite warriors. This display was breathtaking in its vulgarity.

[Machine God]

Draak filed away the theoretical's. The bout had stopped after a neat trick utilised by Brynjarr.

 

+Are you hanging pictures, Sarjent?+ enquired Orphiel at the conclusion of the bout.

 

 

Brynjarr raised an eyebrow in wonder and contemplation, the expression quite clear on his un-helmeted face.

 

“I hope you are not intending to batter down the airlock of the Pride with that.” Brynjarr stated.

 

 

"No Breacher, that would be foolish to damage a treasure we intend to utilise. This hammer will be employed to bludgeon any recalcitrant nails that we come across in our quest." replied Draak "The only pictures to be hung will be the image caught by Vesalius' picter showing Brynjarr's masterpiece of your disrobing, Orphiel!"

 

Draak had noted the gawk from Vesalius, his helmet canted around to one side like an inquisitive crow. 

 

~Soon, soon your provenance shall be unleashed and made known!~ Draak said to his Thunder Hammer, ~Until the Anvil of War!~

 

 

The second hand of time still hung waiting to strike.

 

 

Edited December 17, 2022 by Machine God
Tidy up

[Lysimachus]

The voyage towards the Rhogau system is uneventful. Captain Achard and his Navigator are highly skilled at finding routes that keep contact with Imperial shipping lanes to an absolute minimum. These evasions add several days to your total journey time, but also ensure the secrecy and security of your mission. The hold and storerooms that continue to serve as Cutlass' barracks may feel somewhat empty compared to your last journey. The supplies taken from the Sororitas of Viorda Secundus have now been removed, but it is more than this. Whether you viewed them as friends or enemies, comrades in arms or tools to be used, the absence of three Astartes - nearly a third of your Kill-Team - is immediately apparent.

 

When you are nearing your first goal, Achard invites the Kill-Team to join him on the Bridge. The Dagger Thrust translates into realspace just beyond the Mandeville Point on the northeastern edge of the Rhogau system. It is a small and unimportant place, much as Lang described. Only a handful of celestial bodies of any real size are caught up in the star's gravity. The gas giant, Rhogau III, has a mining facility on the largest moon that orbits above it. Rhogau II, a frontier world of less than one hundred thousand inhabitants. Several slightly smaller objects; dwarf planets, moons, comets and asteroids.

 

As your ship moves southwards into the largely empty system, Lang stands at one of the long range augur consoles, perusing local star charts and making calculations. Captain Achard waits for nearly half an hour as his ship travels in towards the star, then speaks tersely.

 

"Well, Lang?"

 

The cartographer looks around, startled at the interruption of his thoughts.

 

"Yes, yes. We are currently following a course that matches that taken by the Trailblazer almost two years ago. We headed in towards Rhogau II, where we stopped to resupply, then back out towards the western boundary of the system. I am working to re-identify the first star we chose to explore... it was a K- type, had a fascinating little flicker in its UV output… then calculate for gravitic fluctuations and temporal displacement... it should only take me a few more moments to find it..."

 

The heavyset Captain frowns.

 

"It's too quiet," he mutters, turning to regard you. "We haven't received hails from the Imperial authorities on Rhogau II or III. Their border arrays must have detected our arrival at the edge of the system, and I'm sure it's not like Viorda was - they don't get enough visitors here to become blase about it."

 

***

[Machine God]

Draak had mag-locked Grendel to the top of his backpack with its ammunition feed stowed prior to appearing on the Bridge of the Daggers Thrust, although he held his Thunder Hammer at the ready.

 

"Nothing, Captain Achard? No hail's from the Mechanicus, or warnings from marker buoy's?" asked Draak. "Any signs of Void War, wreckage or strange returns from silent ships?"

 

+Odyssus if you have the ability, please scan Lang and find out if he has been scanned before!+ stated Draak over squad vox +Here Be Dragons indeed, more like a Jonah!+

 

 

Edited December 17, 2022 by Machine God

[Trokair]

"Captain, would battle stations be prudent? If someone has come this way before us seeking the same prize they may have subdued the locals to cover their tracks or to lay a trap for anybody following."

Edited April 9, 2022 by Trokair

[Necronaut]

Vesalius's eyes narrowed at Achard's admonition, and he looked at Lang, wondering at the possible depths of treachery that the man might be hiding. While no psyker himself, he was familiar, in principle, with the unnatural abilities wielded by the psychic assassin-clade within his brotherhood, and how they could bend the mind of an unwitting or unwilling subject to their will, creating eyes-and-ears and sleeper agents within enemy strongholds.

 

Without turning to look at the librarian, the unfamiliar gothic term still as of yet not fully integrated into his preferred vocabulary, especially given that the role of lore-keeper was traditionally handled by his former chapter's chaplains, he said over the vox, +Odysseus, has Lang been tampered with? Does your witch-sight show any psychic scars? He believes Jinsho left him unmolested, but I am unconvinced in the absence of hard data.+

 

Achard was right, it was too quiet. Too quiet by half.

 

+Achard, let us not tip our hand if we're being surreptitiously observed from afar. I would counsel us to stay the course, acting unperturbed by the absence of activity in the vicinity.+ He paused briefly before continuing, +Are you able to determine from comms traffic or any intercepted astropathic signals if a battle or raid occurred here recently?+

[Lysimachus]

Achard snaps his fingers at various officers and adepts across the Bridge and they respond quickly to your questions.

 

"Border buoys are definitely operational, sir. They transmitted a warning in-system as soon as we crossed the Mandeville. But no signals appear to have been sent in response."

 

"No physical debris that suggests recent combat, sir. No vox or augur contacts, either, but any vessels in a close opposed orbit would be hidden from our scans by the planets themselves?"

 

Achard grunts at this lack of information. Then he nods respectfully at Brynjarr and Vesalius' suggestions.

 

"The crew are already on highest alert. Bosuns and gunnery chiefs have their teams standing ready. But I agree we don't want to show it yet."

[Machine God]

Achard snapped his fingers at various officers and adepts across the Bridge and they responded quickly to your questions.

 

"Border buoys are definitely operational, sir. They transmitted a warning in-system as soon as we crossed the Mandeville. But no signals appear to have been sent in response."

"No physical debris that suggests recent combat, sir. No vox or augur contacts, either, but any vessels in a close opposed orbit would be hidden from our scans by the planets themselves?" stated Captain Achard.

 

"So we did translate at a proper or designated Mandeville Point and not a Pirate Point?" mused Draak "We left Elysium Station that is in the Arotil Salient, a small tendril of the Solios Nebula and we have travelled to the Rhogau System. Now we know that Viorda was very much so in Imperial Space, but this Rhogau is a backwater system. Have we travelled back into galactic space within the Solios Nebula or as near to as that Rhogau owes fealty to Talek Varn?"

 

 

Edited December 17, 2022 by Machine God

[A.T.]

The air was still thick with the energies of their transit, but no greater around Lang than any other. A fact that in no way absolved him of suspicion but then had an inquisitor left detectable signs of tampering the suspicion would only be greater.

 

"He bares no sign of such, but no inquisitor worth of the title would be so incompetent. If you wish to truly be certain the methods would be... more permanent."

 

Turning back to the display Odysseus considers the situation, this place as silent as Lang had described the vessel. "What of the autonomous systems? Have you signalled for temporal correction?" Travel within the warp rarely matched the flow of time within the materium requiring vessels to correct their chronometers when re-entering realspace. A response, or lack thereof, might serve to shed some light on whether transmissions were blocked.

[Black Cohort]

"Perhaps we should run as silently as possible.  There are much greater predators in the void than our ship.  Best if as few traces of our presence are left as possible."

[Mazer Rackham]

The choice was to run silent, or bluff.

 

Orphiel folded his arms into his sleeves, and did both, awaiting the Serjant's decision.

Edited April 10, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

One of the officers replies to Odysseus.

 

"Signal sent, sir. But no response."

 

Achard nods in agreement with Decimus' words, eager to protect his vessel. His eyes narrow suddenly, remembering Lang's words.

 

"We don't need resupply. Is there any reason to go closer in to the inhabited planets? Can't we just turn west now?"

[Machine God]

Achard's eyes narrowed suddenly, remembering Lang's words.

 

"We don't need resupply. Is there any reason to go closer in to the inhabited planets? Can't we just turn west now?"

 

 

Whilst Lieutenant Lang busied himself on his calculations he was oblivious to all else. Certainly he did not notice Draak drift over behind him.

 

Looming over Lang and looking at his charts, Draak whispered menacingly "Well Lang, answer your Captain! Can we move to the western part of the system to find your mysterious K-type Star?"

 

Lieutenant Lang looked up startled at Draak.

 

"Well it was just a simple question" said Draak. "I'm sure that Vesalius could loosen your tongue, if you still feel reticent."

 

 

 

(Edit: Changed to fit better with Lysimachus' post below)

Edited December 20, 2022 by Machine God

[Lysimachus]

Lang looks up, startled. The suggestion, pragmatic in nature, has clearly not even crossed his academic mind.

 

"Um, no…" he answers slowly, "no reason we cannot go directly westwards. I should be able to find the next star from any position within this system. In fact, I believe I nearly have it."

[Mazer Rackham]

Orphiel watched the haranguing dispassionately.  A little positive pressure would focus Lang's attention.  As he observed the Lieutenant dally with his astrogation slide-rule, in the shadow of the Ironclad, the reports of the deck officers percolated through his mind.  He sniffed, letting the half-noise play through the vox to announce his thoughts.  He canted his helm to pose a question to Achard, the muzzle of his faceplate coming about in kinship with the Dagger Thrust.

 

+Just for clarity Shipmaster, are our augurs registering no contacts, or nothing at all?+

 

He paused for a sole breath.

 

+And what are we spoofing our ship designation as this time?+

 

His robes swayed as the ship gently rolled into the start of a turn.

[Lysimachus]

The Bridge crew respond quickly and the highly manoeuvrable Sword-class banks almost immediately, swinging around to take a westward course.

 

"We are now showing as a merchantman out of…"

 

Just as Achard is answering Orphiel's question, the Augur Operator interrupts with a sudden yell.

 

"Contact! …no, wait..." the crewman pauses, obviously confused. "Sorry, Captain. After we changed heading, for a second we picked up an object in orbit around Rhogau III's primary moon. It's gone again now, probably just a sensor ghost."

 

"What reading was it?" Achard asks tightly.

 

"Ship ident, sir, but incomplete due to the partial nature of the contact."

 

"Run it through our data-logs for comparison. Do it fast."

 

"Aye sir... it will take a minute or two..."

 

One hundred and seven seconds pass in tense silence.

 

"Sir? We cannot be sure, but our cogitators estimate a 38% probability that the ident was one we have encountered recently. Battlefleet Tempestus, Light Cruiser, Endeavour-class, Leobardis."*

[Necronaut]

And just what might you be doing out here, Captain?

 

What in the blazes were they doing out here? Clearly on the cusp of being shot to pieces by a light cruiser if they couldn't outrun them, or otherwise encourage the vessel to ignore the Dagger Thrust. Captain Achard had proven capable of evading particular notice previously in the Viorda system, but one data point did not a trend make.

 

Talek Varn and his pirates must truly be living on the knife's edge to be sending them out here in the search of a ghost ship alone. The plunder they had brought back to Elysium from Viorda had been ample, but…

 

Alone?

 

The word turned itself over in his head again. Why would Talek Varn send one of his frigates with a handful of Astartes out on their own in search of such a high priority target? Ghoran's words echoed back at him, "... When… if… you find the ship, transmit your location back to us immediately." He grinned. "We'll be along."

 

Vesalius certainly appreciated the need for subtlety. One didn't want to tip one's hand to the fact that one was looking for buried treasure, but on the other hand…

 

He set his jaw as the path of reasoning wound its way to its logical conclusion.

 

Bait.