[DH1e] The Damocles Contingency (RPG IC)

[Mazer Rackham]

ROUND THREE CONT

 

G4: Free Strike (MISS)

The Guard jabs at your fleeing legs, trying to entangle them with his halberd, but fails.

 

G5: Dodge (FAIL)

Turning to confront you, the guard tries to twist out of the way but Reynard stands over him and the burst pummels his body before he lies still.

Note that G5 is also prone, (he didn't get up from where he lay when Nicios mind-melted him).

Guard 5 dies.

 

Guard 1:

The Guard seems to realise something. He shakes his head at the combination of pain and blood loss, it dawns on him he's shot a civilian through some bizarre, negligent discharge. He throws his revolver down with a clatter.

 

"We...we're just doing our...du-duty! You u-understand that don't you?" His speech is slurred, as though he's fighting for air after being submerged. "Duty. Fear and duty..." His halberd follows and it tumbles to the ground.  He tries to stand, but can't so props himself against the plinth closest to him.

 

The other Guards look angry that their comrades have fallen, but a strange resignation and openness lifts downcast shoulders, and lets weapons tumble down. As their weapons fall, the doors behind Nicios thunder apart, with a body of Guards at the fore, but through these pushes something else.

 

Men equipped in the armour of the Adeptus Arbites, shotguns peeking over the shoulders of suppression shield breachers in front of them form a solid line of the Emperor's Law. Their guns cover the room, menacing everyone.

 

"Throw down your weapons and prepare to be judged!" One of them, a tall, square-shouldered man in gilded epaulettes and well-cared for armour of excellent quality steps forward, the shieldwall parting to allow him to enter. His gaze takes in the scene.

 

Kraevus Aldario clutches Magda, now very much returned to normal, but spattered with flecks of blood. "Thank the Throne, Praefector Absolom! Arrest these assassins, they have tried to kill Her Ladyship - and have slain an Ecclesiarchy sister!"

 

He uses his free hand to gesture to Valkyrie, lying still, dripping rich blood from her wounds.

 

++ STRUCTURED TME IS SUSPENDED ++

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

"Absurd!" Reynard roared back, immediately showing his electoo to the newly entered Arbitrators. Time for quick minds and tongues rather than quick hands.

 

"Praefector Absolom, you will submit to the authority of the Most Holy Inquisition and have your troopers arrest both this foul witch and the fool beside her who besmirches the honour of the uniform you wear!"

 

Keep it simple. Give orders. Explanations could come later. As he spoke, he left his palm open, the sigil blazing across the room. Surely, unless the entire Hive had turned to madness, the Arbitrators could not do anything but obey him?

 

Edited January 26, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

The Upper House:

 

The gesture you make results in the Judges pointing their guns at you, in any other situation, you'd have been pasted against the wall.

 

"At this moment in time, your credentials are irrelevant. There is only the law," Absolom does not shout. His voice carries, unaugmented, the audience chamber amplifying his cold authority without any vox distortion. "I have walked in on a massacre. You stand over the body of a Royal Guard. Others dead, wounded. They are unarmed. The Governor is bloodied, faint."

 

He steps closer, hands empty, but lingering by the holster of his bolt pistol.

 

Valkyrie twitches, and Absolom waves his hand at a pair of Medicae-trained Judges to attend her.

 

"They need to look at Magda!" Aldario says.

 

Absolom ignores him, turning to Nicios. "Put your weapons down and raise your hands. Now."

 

His boot gently pokes Restal as he looks at the dead and dying men, then taps the loose brass that litters the floor.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard left the electoo showing, but made sure all his weapons were holstered.

 

"Indeed, Praefector, but the question is who is to blame for what you see? Examine the evidence before you carefully. Consider the wounds sustained by our colleague, the Prioress. Yes, she is our comrade, we entered with her at our side and she then fought beside us when we were attacked by Aldario and her guards. Her wounds were sustained in close combat, not caused by gunfire from our weapons. If your medics can assist her, she will confirm my words."

 

Reynard thought for a moment, then continued more softly.

 

"You must have been aware of our presence here on Damocles. Our masters recruited one of your own men to assist in our task. They would have contacted you."

 

Edited January 26, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

The Upper House:

 

Absolom's face is the granite slab of the Imperial Justice System.

 

"And what of the witness that tells me you are impersonating an agent of the Holy Inquisition? Or of the guards who swear they saw you enter here with a weapon at the noble Sister's back?"

 

He lists your charges:

Spoiler

"You are hereby charged with the following crimes: Regicide, attempted Regicide, conspiracy to commit Regicide, Treason, conspiracy to commit treason, assault and battery, affray, violent and threatening behaviour in a public place, criminal damage." He takes another breath. "Criminal trespass, impersonation of an Agent of the Holy Throne, disobeying the direct orders of an appointed officer of the Arbites, wilful vandalism, improper use of credentials and fraudulently obtaining an audience with a superior not of your social stratum," he breaks for another breath, but the tone is still reasonable, confident. "Possession of illicitly modified firearms, loitering, loitering with intent to steal, going equipped to commit theft, murder, conspiracy to commit murder, failure to report thoughts of said conspiracies or acts and prevention of others doing so."

 

He finally stops.

 

"Lord Justice Praefector, I demand immediate execution-" Aldario warbles.

 

"Quiet!" Absolom bites him off without even looking at him, his voice thunder for the first time. Even his own Judges flinch. When he resumes talking, he is once again cool and confident. "I am the law. His law. And if not for the accident that befell my Secundus, you would not stand in his place."

 

Absolom rounds on Reynard. "I gave you a chance. Now my men will disarm you."

 

The Judges sweep around Nicios, taking him to the floor, and placing restraints on his wrists and upper arms. They stun him with batons, and turn out his pockets and pile all his items. They do the same to the snoring Restal.

 

When they go for Reynard they come in hard, shields up. Taking no chances they slam him against the wall, and a stun baton drops.

 

Darkness.

 

++++++++++

 

The Party in the Spire has now been captured by the Arbites. Falk and Bardas are on their own. Both @Trokair and @A.T. are free to now take any narrative interaction regarding the book and box they found, before I finish this part and move us onto Part 5.

Edited January 26, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

He almost laughed out loud at that. The idea that an autogun at the back of a Battle Sister would convince her to do anything against her will was ridiculous. Even if they'd had a much bigger gun, she would have spat in their faces and died happily rather than do anything that might betray her conscience.

 

As to the genuineness of their Inquisitorial credentials, he'd wondered about Verdict and his crew. But if Valkyrie was the real deal - and from everything he'd seen, he couldn't see how she could not be - and she believed in and supported them, then the sigils must be real too?

 

He nearly said as much, wanted to bluntly point out that Absolom was a pretty piss poor investigator if he couldn't spot the same obvious facts.

Then Reynard stopped. The Praefector could see it. He must be able to! Something else had to be going on here.

 

He didn't struggle at all as the Arbitrators approached.

 

Sudden pain… and darkness.

 

[Trokair]

Bardas 

 

Bardas takes a good long look at the little statuette, trying to decide if it had been sculpted by human hands or those of the alien. Making a sign of warding he turned away from it and back to the contents of the crate he had found just before Flak had caught up with him.  

 

+No, I dare not interface directly without preparation akin to the cage we left behind unless there was no other option, but if we can find a terminal that we can isolate from external data connection we might be able to hook this one up without too much problem.+

 

Taking out the cogitator core he stowed it amongst his possessions, showing the inscription to Falk as he does so.

 

+ It reads ‘Gladius Dei Sanctus.’ Does this mean anything to you? There is also this book that I have not had time to examine yet.+

 

---

 

+A Ship perhaps, and a cargo, passenger and or colonist manifest of some kind+ Bardas hazard.

 

+I am only saw a little of the data at the laboratory, so while I can see commonalities to this I do not understand, do they make any more sense to you?+

 

Before they could do anything further the sound of others disrupted the quiet of the Vault.

Edited February 3, 2023 by Trokair

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal

 

 

The teeth!

 

 

Strange sounds in the night, in his head. Always be prepared against the sneaky thieves. Protect it!

 

 

The new life in the hunt.

 

It was a good thing that he had habitually swallowed, then later cleaned and re-swallowed the cruciform =][= ingot. Stopped it being stolen and his life forfeit. 

 

 

 

[A.T.]

Falk:

 

They needed more time. No more chances than necessary.

 

Those above had at least not chosen to breach the door and at this time it would be best they not, whoever they were. The records had specified the timings of the frateris security sweeps but the information was old. Switching his comms to the local arbites channel as he recalled the patrol above, "Officer requesting assistance, Iacinda block, sector 103, east market block four, inform eyes on gathering warehouse entrance north, priority urgent".

 

Clear and present evidence of heresy, and if those above were enemy then it was time to tighten the noose.

[Mazer Rackham]

The Storehouse:

 

Falk:

 

You hear the call cut through to the emergency support comms line reserved for Arbites personnel, either off-duty or on secondment to undercover work, or simply in a different precinct without the vox codes. Your ident tags pass down the line, and the precinct dispatch officer patches on immediately.

 

"Officer, 10-4, all received. Will instruct locals to proceed with caution. Wait one."

 

Her voice dials off, but you can hear the chatter in the comms room of whatever the nearest precinct. It's all familiar, perhaps even reassuring in the clipped and professional intensity. "Linking you now."

 

The voice changes to a masculine, but mellow tenor. "This is AO 1040, single officer on foot. Will make covert obs, ETA, 2 mins."

 

His distance away would lead you to believe he is the Judge you saw earlier. He leaves the line open as he talks, and you can hear him exchanging small courtesies like he's out for a walk in the hydroponics park. The seconds become long as he quietly approaches. You can imagine him strolling, as though nothing was of interest. He doesn't whistle, keeps his voice low. Even his gear jostles and rasps quietly as he moves.

 

"AO 1040, on location at standoff distance. Crime scene indicators set, blue light established. I have one suspect at the door. Possibly Mechanicus personnel. Tampering with the lock. Request additional units. Please advise."

[A.T.]

Falk:

 

Suspicions of the mechanicus device would have to wait as Falk indicated for Bardas to follow him to the door, reading his weapon. The open signal indicated the manner of an arbites rather than one of the false judges from before.

 

Pointing Bardas to hold a covering position Falk replied, "officer on scene, moving to identify suspect be prepared to track and intercept."

 

Three swift strikes on the inside of the door, "this warehouse has been sealed by authority of the Adeptus Arbites pending investigation, interference with an official seal is a class 4 criminal act under order 4248819 of the Imperial penal code, punishable by field judgement. You are hearby placed under detainment. Identify yourself."

 

Keep it official and impersonal, another faceless judge following a lead unrelated to the events at hand, perhaps investigating the same damaged lock that drew the techpriest.

 

He glanced back at Bardas, "I can have a Verispex team here in ten minutes, less if they abandon subtlety. If our actions have been noticed perhaps best to guise them as an official arbites investigation. There is evidence here of sedition, perhaps even secessionism that not even the Judge Absolom could dismiss."

[Mazer Rackham]

The Storeroom:

 

As your instructions parse through the various comms patches, the officer outside replies.

 

"AO 1040, received, preparing for low intensity pursuit," he says, line still open the roger-bleep is a dull patch of squelch. A heartbeat, then: "He's running! All local units converge on my position, suspect fleeing my location, crime scene tampering, attempted criminal damage."

 

You can hear him lurch into the steady cadence of a jog, breathing quickly as the adrenaline spikes and his reports keep going. Another voice joins the net, female.

 

"AO 1138, approaching from subsector 102-Delta, converging."

 

"10-4, lost viscon on suspect, last seen moving through 103-Charlie, through the Fulda Narrows."

 

There's a whipping noise, and hard on the heels of this is a muted bang. "1040, suspect armed, resisting arrest, attempted murder of a Judge, request summary authority. Halt!" This last is hurled from his lungs to the fleeing interloper.

 

"1138, closing, hold on 1040, I am ETA 3 mike."

 

The breathing gets heavier now as the Judge performs his duty, "1040, passing into 103-Delta, substrata 01, Fulda Hollow, repeat-" There's a gasp.

 

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.

 

"Ambush, ambush my 10-20! Multiple sus-" Silence.

 

"1138 to 1040, come in!" Static. "1040, respond!"

 

Static.

 

We'll hang fire for Tro now. Players are free to ruminate in the OOC.

[Mazer Rackham]

The Storeroom:

 

Falk:

 

"Suppression Teams on intercept," the dispatcher says.

 

The door is significantly well armoured, and even to technical attack, will hold if there are any untoward visitors, but with a team of Judges en route with shotguns and shock shields anyone lingering at that door will be in for a warm welcome.

 

You have time and opportunity, but it may be a near run thing. You will have to decide to explore onwards, and trust to the Emperor, or leave the Storeroom now, and rely on yourselves.

[A.T.]

Falk:

 

Another dead judge, he cursed the secrecy of this task that he could not have dealt with the imposters before but had little doubt there were more to replace them. There was no hiding this however and this debacles only saving grace was that those they pursued might see this as a botched encounter with the arbites and not as a cause to step up their plans... if indeed that was ever an option.

 

Opening comms once more, "no visual on attackers, believed disguised, advise full cipher ident protocols. Judge on site ... code 17". No long code, subcode and subsection this time, 'unlawful association with xenos'. answers would be demanded of the heresy found in this place.

 

With the word given he quickly turned back to the task at hand and motioned to Bardas "This entire sector will be swarming with arbites and verispex hunters before long, and I would know what secrets this place conceals before I must make accounting of it". The arbites would melt this whole place down if needed to reach the sub-basement but Falk hoped that his own efforts would suffice.

Edited February 2, 2023 by A.T.

[Mazer Rackham]

Sub-Basement:

 

Falk:

 

The passage to the chamber below is not easily found, but the auspex identifies it as lurking behind some packing crates. Innocuous enough, but as you lift them, it is no question as to why they are there, being quite heavy. Behind them, is a gap in the hive's own structural lacing, a square slot where the strata of the hive haven't quite married. A smuggler's ideal hole.

 

As you slip through, you step and duck between the bracing girders, but there is enough room to manoeuvre two abreast. Great ingots thicker than a Baneblade, made of plasteel and adamantium thrust into both sections of the hive, binding together like giant staples attempting to close a wound. Someone has laid a path here, broken gantries, rail sleepers and thick boards lead a perilous path, the materials creaking and flexing with your weight. It would not do to make haste, the cadence of swift feet would break this ramshackle bridge apart and cast whoever was on it down into endless dark.

 

Light from the storehouse bleeds into this twilight, enough to give you some ability to see, but down at the bottom of this rickety bridge which turns in on itself, the orange sodium glowbulbs frame the mouth of the lower hollow Bardas detected, a cave in the hive wall. You can see that the entrance has not been fabricated, as with the lacing split - no, it has been maligned with tools, the light from within brightest on the chisel and cutter marks.

[A.T.]

Falk:

 

A breach in the interior of the hive, bypassing any number of checks. The construction seemed too fragile and ramshackle to suggest a rogue of the mechanicus. Falk risked keeping his shotgun at his side to ensure he had both hands free should the bridge give way but it would at least give warning of pursuit should anyone somehow slip past the closing Arbites cordon behind them.

 

Nowhere to go but down and no cause to delay, this would be clue as to the events at hand so far had only offered more questions.

[Mazer Rackham]

Falk:

 

The walkway - if it can be grand enough to be called such a thing, leads you down to the chamber. You calculate that you have descended at least two substrata. Carefully examining from outside, you can hear no immediate movement within, and there would be ample noise from the walkway to alert anyone keen enough not to be disturbed, but all you can hear is the creaking old bones of the hive, and the wind from whatever gaps and cracks endure within them.

 

As you close with the entrance, the sodium light from within becomes brighter, enough for the handling of tools - or weapons.

 

The chamber's floor is coated with dust and grit, no doubt from natural accrual over the ages. The tool marks are present, but you can see corrosion within the deepest cuts, suggesting these were made some time ago.

 

In the belly of the chamber lie a serried rank of seven, dark, oblong boxes, which appear to be tooled stonework. Brass glints in the amber light. The rolled tops of the boxes take a moment to place, but then you have it.

 

This is a mausoleum.

[A.T.]

Falk:

 

Raising up a hand to indicate pause Falk knelt down looking for any sign of recent movement in the dust, and clue as to what was being done here. Events long in the making and predating the creation of the key by countless years.

 

"Does the auspex show any sign of biological corruption here?" Gene-clones were not unknown to the records of the arbites as means to seize power within a hive, but the dead brought other dangers. Making the sign of the aquila Falk switched the vial in his injector from Stimm to De-tox and returned it to his pocket within easy reach.

 

Scanning the room with his eyes he rached next for his cartograph, with any luck the mausoleum or the house that owned it would be identified in the records.

[Trokair]

Bardas

 

"I can have a Verispex team here in ten minutes, less if they abandon subtlety. If our actions have been noticed perhaps best to guise them as an official arbites investigation. There is evidence here of sedition, perhaps even secessionism that not even the Judge Absolom could dismiss."

 

+I concur with your plan, I presume in this fiction I am a requisitioned Tech-Support Cleric.+

 

 The sound of Officer 1040 dying in an ambush was worrying, the opposition was closing in on them. Though why they had send a scout out ahead of them if they already knew that Falk and Bardas where here, perhaps they did not know and were following another trail to the vault.

 

Following Falk into the chasm below the vault, weary of the makeshift path he was reminded of the Rockhead miners and other part of the underhive. Functional but scraped together from scrap and never truly safe in its construction. Things meant to last a few trips still somehow hanging on years later. Falk clearly had some familiarity with such construction, for his tread was carful and with experience, Bardas did his best to only tread where the other had already been.

 

"Does the auspex show any sign of biological corruption here?"

 

Spoiler

Int 39 + 10 (Tech-Use +10) = 49

D100: 55, Fail, 0 DoF

 

Adjusting the settings and spectrum of the Auspex he swept the room in front of them.

 

+Nothing conclusive with the general settings, I can try more refined scans given time.+

[Mazer Rackham]

The Crypt:

 

The result of the Auspex Scan was only a partial fail, and detecting corruption in this place would be quite a simple affair, so without altering anything, we'll say it was inconclusive, because there's nothing there. Absence is evidence in this case.

 

The Cartograph reports you are still within Eccesiarchy holdings, (as it goes on the boundaries).

 

Now that you are both closer, you can see there are six sets of footprints, three going, and three coming. They are masked by a fresh falling of dust, like snowfall over tracks laid earlier. Invisible from further away, they lead to and from the seventh casket, which is off to the right of the entrance. (The hole in the wall leads to the middle of the room, so you have three caskets to the left, one directly ahead, and three to your right. Number 7 is on your right - I've just numbered them as you would count them).

 

The air is stuffy, but cool, and nothing spikes upon Bardas' auspex as contagion. Inside the lea of the entrance, the wind dies to almost nothing, but the echo of it's passing sounds oddly as though the hive is breathing.

 

On the wall is a portable work-lamp, which provides a good deal of the orange lighting. It is held in a cradle, and fixed to a retracting cable reel, no doubt powered from the hive's main plant. Cobwebs have gathered on it, lazily flexing in a silken shimmer as the massive conurbation about you gently exhales.

Edited February 3, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[A.T.]

Falk:

 

"I had feared this path would take us closer to the core, a prelude to the threads leveled against the hive. But the more that is uncovered the more this seems political in nature." Turning back to Bardas, "some grab for power, false claim or concealment of past heresy, all of these things I could suspect and understand. But the involvement of the mechanicus yet makes no sense. Did you discover nothing earlier that might shed light on this, or could it be possible that the device above could have somehow... contaminated those that came into contact with it?"

 

Any answer would not change what must be done next. Moving around the periphery of the room to not disturb the footprints he approached the seventh casket attempting to leave as little contamination behind as possible to lessen the follow-up investigations of the verispex as he kept rigidly to his training. Touch nothing with bare skin, breath only through filtration plugs, study and catalogue in accordance with protocol.

[Mazer Rackham]

The Crypt:

 

The casket is a clone of it's fellows, in size and stature, but the brass plaque upon the casket is not professionally etched, the heraldic escutcheons where the interred would be honoured by their house or fellowship are missing - and instead of the careful engraving, there are the almost haphazard marks of a cutting tool. The writing is in a refined hand, but it lacks the familiarity of one trained to such a task. A minor blasphemy to the trade, and perhaps even scrivener class, whose job is to furnish the dead with the best efforts possible.

 

The plaque on the seventh seal reads:

 

"A Daughter of the House Aldario,

 brightness taken from us by sorrow,

we love you still."

 

The plaque is mismatched for the size of the recess it is intended to fit. You can tell that another plaque was embedded here before, the screw holes are the giveaway. There are fresh finger-grooves in the dust around the lid, where the dust has not been able to accrue.

Edited February 3, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[A.T.]

Falk:

 

Aldario. "This complicates matters, if the Praefectus Secundus is involved then Absolom Urr must be informed." But why replace a plaque unless perhaps to conceal the cause of death, unless the daughter still lived...

 

"Help me with the casket, let us see this through".

 

Falk checked his comms for a signal, the reach of Aldario was long and if the Secundus had a hand in this then the call to the warehouse would already have been relayed to him.

[Mazer Rackham]

The Crypt:

 

The Comms signal is very patchy, for now you are in pseudo seclusion for good or ill.

 

As you both heft up the lid, the smell of preserving fluid strikes you, even through flugs, the sharp tang is unmistakeable. The preserving sleeve within sheathes a smaller body than the casket was intended for, and holds the smaller stature within as though she is merely swaddled into a large crib. Beautifully preserved flower petals are placed within the casket, some manner of rose, perhaps, and the rush of chilled air leads you to conclude the coffin is powered and refrigerated.

 

There is a window in the close-fitting shroud, which shows a young woman of striking looks, despite her face being drawn and deathly white. Her eyes closed, she appears wonderfully serene.

 

Great care and secrecy lingers here, which smacks of a deep sentimentality. A thick, cream-coloured envelope sits at the feet of the body. It is blank.

[Trokair]

Bardas

 

+While scarp code and the heresies that follow from it could certainly originate from the cogitator-core. However I fear that there is too much agency in what we have seen for it to be just that, the scrap code is more likely just a tool often unseen hand.+

 

After thinking for a moment Bardas continued.

 

+The last coherent data I received from the late Magos Yurian Krupp was a string of digits, with some imparted a significance not clarified in the data. It could just be the dying thoughts of the Magos for I have made no sense of it.+

 

He repeated the numbers for Falk in case the investigator could spot something he had not. As he did so he moved to the other end of the casket to help Falk in moving the coverstone.

 

Spoiler

0 9 7 9 8 3 2 0 1 2 3 2 2 7 3 6 4 9 0 3-m