[DH1e] The Damocles Contingency (RPG IC)

[Trokair]

Bardas 

 

Off to one side, in a little alcove cast in shadow Bardas had taken refuge for a moment. From here he could keep tabs on the recovering Penitent following the trials of surgery. He had been brave to accept the burden that came with the offer of the armour. He had thought that the other would be better able to make use of it in the trials to come and was gladdened that Scourge had the courage to agree. Still it was a risk and it would not do to let the other take it unaided.

 

Mortician Adams certainly had known his craft, and Bardas has helped as best he could. In a way it was enlightening to see such gifts of the Omnissiah pass from one to another and be integrated with the flesh and soul.

 

He hoped that all the rites of blessing had been correct, recalling those that had been chanted when he received some of his own gifts years ago. The ones he had chanted might not have been quite correct for the gift given, but they where the best he could do, and surly the spirit that would dwell within the penitent augmentation would know that they had meant well, that this was a chance for redemption and vengeance on behalf of its former bearer.

 

He knew he had dozed a while and woke to the Deadman conversing with Scourge again, they seemed to have formed a friendship in their short time together, no perhaps more like a mentor and mentee acceptance of the others presence. He would not interrupt them and instead meditated for guidance. His coming to the Hive for Duty had thrust him into a fable, and if he did not keep all the events in mind then it would be all too easy to veer.

 

Recalling the glimpse of the Foxkin he had caught during the operation he wondered if they had had success on their latest excursion into the Hive, what new leads would be forth coming. Even with the Deadman return they still had a mission.

Edited March 16, 2023 by Trokair

[Necronaut]

Scourge:

 

And with that, the Lord Inquisitor was gone from the operating theatre, leaving Scourge a bit bewildered and with more questions which likely would never receive answers. He pushed himself up from the slab and stared down at his dangling legs and feet, clothed only in his jute breeks. He gave his toes a test wiggle and was pleased to discover they still moved as intended. The chirurgeons had not left him crippled or otherwise incapacitated, although he did feel rather weak. An unpleasant side affect of his recent traumas, perhaps. 

 

His head felt strange, different somehow. The path of stitches and scar tissue across his scalp was still there, still healing. Feeling around the other side of his skull, however, he discovered the cold metal of the newly installed neural interface sockets standing proud of his flesh. His fingers jerked back reflexively from the foreign objects before returning to study them. The procedure had been a success, it would seem. 

 

He surveyed the room and noticed Bardas seated in an alcove, apparently meditating. On wobbly legs he rose and carefully walked over to stand before the silent tech-adept.

 

"I heard thy voice in my dreams, Bardas, thy prayers to the Machine God. Thou watchst over me whilst I slumbered, aye? Thou performed the rites of transmutation upon my flesh. I owe thee my life, friend."

 

He scratched his beard and offered his hand to help the shrine watcher to his feet.

 

"We should not keep our master waiting. And a man couldst eat after trials such as these."

 

Edited March 16, 2023 by Necronaut

[Mazer Rackham]

If anyone wants to rest up or eat/drink, the refectory is available as before, as are emergency bunks for working patrols.

 

Inquisitor Locke has taken his complement of Frateris to the training room - this is a large gymnasium with retractable physical training and combat practice equipment. he has left instructions with Haldane and Absolom Drake to commence Operation Blindfold. This will silence, isolate or remove Picter access for the Golem. This will take time. recorded playback loops will be installed - Throne knows the Arbites have the hours of footage.

 

Bardas may assist with this if he wishes, there will be a technician's vestibule where he obtain the appropriate cyber-mantle connections and engage with the Panpticon Adepts who share the Cog's blessing.

 

The Depths:

 

The ride to the surface is stable, the body of Kreavus held up by the two deafened men. The Acolytes within may be a little...reticent on talking, since they have just shared a strange, if awkward bond. Knowing your colleagues is one thing, knowing them inside out, is quite another.

 

The Spaceport has settled. The enginseers there have restored much of the air hauler's functions and flight surfaces, allowing easy - and private transit back to the Halls of Judgement. It is there you are wanted. An Inquisitorial coded transmission has been awaiting your attention, and now demands your immediate recall. It is countersigned with Haldane, and Absolom Drake's signatures.

 

The flight is uneventful, and you land from whence you arose, in the Precinct hangar bays.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

After Locke left, Reynard stayed where he was, sleeping a while longer. The deadly fight in the Cradle bunker, with its poisoned air, had clearly exhausted him. When he awoke he was starving, so he headed for the refectory to find some food and drink. Finally, he visited the Arbites medical centre to obtain treatment for the injuries he had sustained. The Arbites' doctor was almost as cold as their mortician, but at least the man seemed to have some skill.

 

 

Spoiler

Reynard sleeps, eats and drinks - not sure if necessary yet (are we moving into another day? Are we still on the same day/game Session that started with us waking up in the HoJ, I can't remember!) but might as well? Hopefully resting at least removes the Fatigue from the bar fight?

 

I assume the Halls of Judgement med facilities are of the Good Quality level on the Medical Care table: a trained doctor, Int50, Medicae+10. (Not sure whether I need to pay the 150 Thrones for this?) Anyway, Int50 +Medicae+10 = 60, roll: 49, Success. Heal (Int Bonus 5) 5 Wounds.

 

 

Feeling much better, with the wounds in his shoulder and thigh carefully cleaned and glued, Reynard left the Infirmary and went looking for Locke and the other Acolytes. Oddly, it felt almost as though the Lord Inquisitor had been avoiding him? Probably his imagination, or perhaps simply frustration that the man who could answer so many questions was so close, but too busy to answer them.

 

 

Edited March 16, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Trokair]

Bardas

 

Accepting the offered had Bardas rose.

 

+Indeed substance is wise after such an ordeal, and I suspect you will find for some time to come that your body will be more ravenous then you may expect. Let us seek the others by way of the refectory+

 

---

 

A little later, having partaken in a light meal and leaving Scourge to enjoy heartier fare, Bardas sought out the Lawmen carrying out the aptly named operation Blindfold. In theory it would deprive the corruption of the Dark spirit information, and with it leave it vulnerable.    

Edited March 18, 2023 by Trokair

[A.T.]

Falk

 

One wonders what had happned to the others in their brief excusion to have ended the venture into Canthus' territory so quickly, but it was perhaps fortunate that if Canthus himself was not directly involved in these events he might be wielded against them as means to distance himself from the events. Greyson run down or handed over made little difference to Falk though he found himself wondering once again why Canthus was a target at the station, if indeed him and not one with him.

 

It was time now to seek out Gwynne once more as she had acted directly against this force and would likely be a target, and with Kraevus dead was the last direct link to her sister.

[Mazer Rackham]

The Training Room:

 

Reynard:

 

Your feet take you through the precinct, past Judges beaten all to hell with dust, fatigue and weariness. Some are asleep in the corners of rooms, corridors, shotguns and helmets at the ready. Other Judges watch over the place, as picters are carefully removed. The Frateris are arranged in serried ranks, practicing with their staves in silence, other than the grunts and calls of exertion.

 

Steel poles cut the air, spin, brace, riposte, trip. All in virtual unison.

 

Others are exercising by sparring with heavy, weighted poles, or the sturdy batons of the Arbites.

 

At their head, Locke watches, bracing himself on his own stave.  He sees you come in, watches your interest.

 

"Have you come for instruction, Acolyte? I see the hired killer has found a bed? Wise to get sleep when you can."

 

Falk and Nicios:

 

Haldane, no doubt informed of your arrival, meets you just as you leave the hanger. He looks at the guards and Kraevus. "Ugh. Judges arrest them. Charges pending."

 

Three of the armed and ready officers take the three men into custody. One even cuffs Kreavus. Haldane nods approvingly before turning to you again. "Gentlemen, if you'll follow me..?"

 

Haldane will bring you both back up to speed.

 

If you have questions etc, go ahead. Feel free to go where you please or let me know where you want to wander. In essence, this brings the Party back together, and everyone up to date without being tedious.

Edited March 16, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

"Agreed, my lord. I am only recently woken myself."

 

Reynard bowed flamboyantly, the much lighter material of his long coat allowing the edges to flare out as he moved. He grinned.

 

"You look remarkably well for a man dead a century and a half. But in answer to your question, yes I seek instruction… though preferably of a kind that does not include being hit over the head with a large stick?"

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Reynard:

 

Locke grins.

 

It's a rather large grin, which is missing a couple of teeth, but his eyes are filled with a knowing look.

 

"Oh, being dead is all well good," he blathers on, that ribald edge coming out, "Vigilance would warn me about taxes. Thankfully, the Ecclesiarchy have an exemption." He tosses a light stave to you, his tone suddenly heavy in contrast.

 

"We rarely get what we want, Reynard," he continues, "that is the price of the Inquisition, and the real answers are always earned the hard way. Haldane told me about you swinging your seal around like a jarrafruit in a sock. Take a guard my son. Talk to me."

 

The grin returns. "Be thankful it isn't Cephas asking you to dance. He likes stamping on toes."

 

"No afraid of an old man, are you?" he asks, voice suddenly becoming cracked and withered, but he's wearing a wicked expression.

[Lord_Ikka]

Nicios

 

After Haldane's briefing/debriefing, Nicios eats, showers, and sleeps before meditating. His mind needed to reset and resettle after the switch with Falk, and to center before any further adventures.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard caught the stave and rolled his eyes. Another distraction tactic.

 

"Have we really got time for playing with sticks? Fine."

 

He held the stave up in what he hoped approximated a guard stance. Not his type of weapon, no idea. He spoke, trying to get the old man talking rather than fighting.

 

"I think you must have seen how my face was already plastered all over the whole Hive. I figured if I couldn't stay hidden, I might as well make the best use of my infamy. Not the way I would have preferred to do things… not the way I would have done things if your 'followers' in the Vault had actually given us all the information they had, all the information we needed."

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Reynard:

 

"All the time in the world." Locke steps into measure, gently menacing with the blunt end of his stave. "It will take a few hours for Operation Blindfold to complete."

 

He doesn't strike with a sweep or overhand blow, instead he jabs, the polearm sliding through his hand to try and strike you, but it's shy. A feint.

 

"Your handsome distraction certainly took eyes off me. My compliments, but the Cell gave you exactly what you needed. Now you've come to get what you wanted."

 

This time, he does come at you, a quick roll of his shoulders, to put the stave onto your head, but he mistimes it, swishing past your face a couple of inches away.

 

"Go ahead and ask thy questions, vent thy spleen."

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard didn't believe the mistimed strike for a second. He had no doubt the old man could put him on the ground any time he liked.

 

More games.

 

So Reynard didn't play. He did his best to dodge or block, but he never attacked. Ignored what seemed to be opportunities. They weren't.

 

"Will I get honest answers?"

 

He knew the answer to that one already, but… he started firing questions anyway.

 

"I have been told that your… our… enemy is the 'Golem'. An 'Irradial Cogitator'. In truth, I don't understand what that is, or what threat it poses? How did it come to be here on Damocles? Carried aboard a Black Ship, I know. Aided by Aldario, I assume… his 'deal with the devil' in order to save his children?"

 

He shrugged, even as he ducked under a swipe. Then he stood back, pausing.

 

"Conjecture... on the part of my colleagues and I. However, I would prefer a first hand account. What actually happened aboard the Gladius? When and how did the Golem escape? To where? How much of the technology of these Hives has it since corrupted? All of it? How was it defeated before, and can we use the same method again? If we can answer these questions, perhaps we can find it and stop it."

 

 

Edited March 16, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Reynard:

 

Locke presses no attack, leverages no advantage. He breaks off for another jab, which turns into a sweep. It knocks your stave enough to turn you. A reflex blow would follow up behind the knee. Body mechanics and impetus do not lie, but the blow doesn't land. In a quick reversal, he turns you again.

His voice changes, as his memory takes over. "On a world of blood and fire, under the giant baleful eye of Antares, I battled with a servant of Ruinous Power, which I will not name. He was served by a clade of Samech, a Dark Forge, and together, they overtook a Manufactorum district which produced Warhound Titans."

 

The stave whips at you again, the clack-crack of staffs meeting, then breaking apart.

 

He gets faster, breath pushing as his age battles the ferocious memory. Sweat beads on his brow, glistens on his arms where his sleeves roll up in the lift and shunt of his bough. Locke frowns, beads blinked out of his eyes. Desperation in them.

 

"We executed a purge, taking with us weapons which would not fall sway under the machinations of the Monster. The true Mechanicus aided us. Thousands of menials torched, hundreds of precious Mechanicus data stacks! We cleansed everywhere it could haunt, with wanton vandalism and tech-rites, finally trapping it within the dormant Cogitator placed aboard the Gladius."

 

"How it railed, how it seethed as it was diminished! The thing took control of anything it was plugged into! A thousand copies of itself in a few heartbeats! I ordered it cast into a star. I was disobeyed, outmanoeuvred by a Lord form the Ordo Xenos, who demanded the plague of this Beast be delivered unto the T'au."

 

The blows become a little fiercer.

 

"Hence how it came here. Hence how it was allowed to endure. And then weakness gave it a chance, betrayed by a friend!"

 

He suddenly stops, after driving his staff against yours, with a slam. He retreats, composing himself.

 

"What happened aboard the Gladius when she sailed, in truth is known only by the enemy," he puffs the words after the ongoing exertion, "but I can guess. When I damned the Aldarios, my true purpose was to check the Golem was secure. Old Galvin agreed, but I thought him resolved. It was not so."

 

"A father will do anything for their child," he concludes, putting the stave down, staring into the distance. For the first time, it feels like he does not see what is in front of him.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Tempting to give the old man a whack while his mind was elsewhere… but even now, Reynard didn't quite buy it. Plus, Locke was actually talking. He lowered his own weapon, holding it one handed with one tip against the ground.

 

"And after that?" he pressed, "What happened to the Gladius itself? How was it you were stranded here? And with all respect, what have you been doing throughout the decades that have followed? Why was House Aldario still allowed to rule? How has this Golem been able to extend its influence into not one but three Hives?"

 

He paused, trying to think the situation through as logically as possible.

 

"And what has changed for it to cause the utter destruction of Tertius and Secundus now?"

 

Reynard looked up suddenly, staring into Locke's eyes.

 

"Lastly, if this daemon can replicate itself so easily, how do you know some part of it has not already passed beyond your reach and out among the stars?"

 

Edited March 17, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal:

 

Still asleep and in deep sleep. 

 

And was the purging of the other two Hives, an Ultimate Sanction to limit The Golem? 

 

Eradicate the dead rotten flesh so that the healthy body can survive. 

 

 

 

 

Edited March 17, 2023 by Machine God
Tangential dreaming

[Mazer Rackham]

Reynard:

 

Locke sighs, but turns with a rueful smile.

 

"The Gladius came down in the desert, next to Tertius. The cancer took root whilst I was awaiting transport offworld. I only know that it spread from there."

 

He holds the stave upright, leaning on it, and for a moment he looks exhausted. "You're not bad at sensing misdirection, Reynard. Tell me, how far do you think you can get when you're in a rat's maze, with every decision you make being watched, every move you attempt being countered or hounded in a balance of torment for pleasure and vexation designed to delay?"

 

"I gathered allies, slowly. Haldane being one of them. A couple of friends in the Noble Houses, a handful in the Trade Blocks. I gathered the Frateris, men whom I could trust. I sent them on pilgrimages, to build allies elsewhere. An army, gathered in secret, of men and women deep in faith - for make no mistake my son - in times like this, faith is our greatest ally, and all we can lean upon."

 

He gives the staff a meaningful glance.

 

"And Him on Terra answered my prayers. He sent me beloved Viceroy, steely Verdict, deadly Vendetta. I established the vault, and we screened candidates for their qualities," he breaks off to look you up and down with a stern eye, "and then one of the Aldario idiots contacted the Sepulturum I was working with. I was siphoning funds for Dreyfuss. He was part of the plan."

 

Locke sighs again, once more staring into and through the walls. "Somehow, the Golem must have got wind of it. Either from its allies, or its myriad eyes and ears, and leveraged its influence to deal with him."

 

"To your final question, which ties up with why the Archenemy moves so suddenly - look inside yourself, Reynard."

 

He scowls as he tries to gauge your reaction. "Even now, your brain is calculating ways of escape, evasion, obfuscation. You are a mortal prisoner to fate, yes? You despise the hand you're dealt." His staff reaches out to gently tap the back of your hand containing the electoo, before retreating.

 

"Imagine then," he continues, grinning, quite unpleasantly, "what a hateful, immortal prisoner, so much more powerful than you, with all its abilities, calculates."

[A.T.]

Falk

 

The pieces began to fall into place, motivations, why Locke... either fear at the one thing that might knowingly capture it or the simple desire for revenge. If the latter then Lockes arrival was a danger to the hive for confirmation of his presence might be the only thing delaying the cogitators hand.

 

As Nicios departs Falk remains with Haldane seeking some way to turn this new information to their advantage, "in the underhive when the golem came after Kreavus it seemed more than just control of the machinery, a distant force that pushed down upon the lift and was in turn challenged. Perhaps it's connections can be weakened by those like Gwynne or even traced back to their strongholds. And I fear her life may now be in danger for confronting it."

 

And all the while Helene and her coven ran free, and whatever it was that they had first chased. "We should contact Canthus, secure Greyson and everything they took from the shuttle at first opportunity. One less battle to fight and one more weapon to wield if Dreyfuss had truely isolated the cure he was seeking."

[Mazer Rackham]

Falk:

 

Haldane nods as the prisoners are escorted away.

 

"I'll task the react team to try and apprehend Greyson quietly, but their last report was the Canthus holdings were being besieged, and the Trade Block had hardened down on their centres. Perhaps a temporary amnesty would work to get us in. We could present our evidence, perhaps - secure their compliance at least."

 

"We did deploy a couple of snouts to go and catch what they could of Lady Gwynne, and we have not had a report in several hours, but that isn't unusual. Our Judges are stretched. Anyone would think the hive was about to come down - and it will, if the idiots within keep rattling the damn stanchion bolts!"

 

Haldane sighs as he scrolls through the dataslate. "The attack on the shuttle was ordered by Tarkan Pirentus, for money, not Greyson and his associates. Eyewitnesses confirm it under excruciation. They were of similar descriptions, but it wasn't the Canthus troops - just some other bastard trying his hand. Tarkan had his hooks into everything, so it isn't a shock."

 

"Thank the Throne he's dead. Last thing we needed was some damn cult overrunning the Spaceport. Old Hyron-I mean, Lord Locke has assured me the version of events is accurate." Haldane shrugs. "Apart from his rank, I believe him. Whatever was recovered from the shuttle has been kept in his possession, or given to your comrades."

 

He pauses, thinking. He breaks from it quickly.

 

"Do you want to head for Lady Gwynne? It sounds like your Psyker friend will be needed."

Edited March 17, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal:

 

Wake Up!

 

 

"Just a short rest was needed." Instantly he woke and got ready, he retracted his trip wires, he didn't want to inconvenience the Cleaner. Never stay in one place too long, don't set patterns.

 

Moving cautiously and with silent application of deed, he moved through the precinct. Not rushing, allowing those who needed to pass by do so. He was never there, be the little ghost of memory.

 

He availed himself of food from the refectory, drank and filled his canteen. Then he left for practise and maybe the conversation of other.

 

He found himself within a hall of violence and order nonetheless. Walking with purpose he threaded through it all to where he needed to be. Be the eye of the storm.

 

He found Reynard sparring physically and verbally with the Deadman.

 

 

He projected his voice to be heard by them. 

 

"And did not Saint Iacinda say: 'Knock and the door shall be parted, and upon thy foot be stomped by the holiest of sabatons, whilst thou gawpest at the statue with the large corset?'."

 

 

 

Edited March 17, 2023 by Machine God
typo

[A.T.]

Falk:

 

Falk nods, "though it sounds like we may need a little more firepower. What of the antidote, is there any sign of its fate?"

 

He fished through his possessions for Magdas blood, "Gwynne said that her sister was the key but did not elaborate." As he did he came across Kreavus' holocameo, what little he had heard of De Grassis involvement suggested the noble was still very much an active player in this pursuit.

[Mazer Rackham]

Falk:

 

"The serum recovered from the Sepulturum Lab and almsot taken by the thieves resides with one of your colleagues, I believe."

 

Haldane takes the sample. "We'll run this through the labs. With Yshing gone it will take time, but we'll get there. I'll send you the report."

 

He smiles, a rare flash of disarming warmth before the wintry chill of his disposition returns. "Speaking of firepower, the Praefector wants to see you."

 

Restal:

 

"Verily so! And with heaving plentitude at that!" Locke raises his arms to Heaven. "And lo, should thy adoration be unspent in the boxes of the templum, the moths of penury shall devour thy wages."

 

He turns, some of his old candour returning.

"And behold the vagabond killer. Pray, what bothers thy breast to stir thyself into my benign presence?"

Edited March 17, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[A.T.]

Falk:

 

"As he commands," Corrupted cogitators, rogue psykers, cults in league with the dark powers. Had Locke been another inquisitor this hive would likely have been ashes long ago, but then that would have at least contained the infection.

 

A thought occurred, "what possibility this could spread offworld aboard a startship?", and why had it not done so long ago. Some limitation perhaps, an inability to exist save as puppetmaster outside of a suitably complex cogitator system.

 

Falk stood, there would be time enough to study the rest of the report in transit.

[Machine God]

Restal:

 

"HE told me to wake up," said Kerr Restal. 

 

"The blessed realms of sleep help me with higher thoughts. I am a practitioner of direct methods, but I am not stupid."

 

"Was the destruction of the Hives done by The Golem, or was it done to deny power to The Golem?" 

 

 

 

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Spoiler

OOC: For after Locke has answered Restal's excellent question... 

 

Reynard was glad of Restal's interruption. Informative as Locke was being, he didn't much care for the comparison the old man made between himself and their monstrous daemonic enemy. Yes, he might have run, given the opportunity, but only to avoid being made a pawn by the upper classes. He would choose his own fate.

 

He frowned, thinking of all the common people who he had seen caught up and crushed in the middle of games played by the self-styled 'masters' of mankind. The nurse at the Sanctum. Hef and Tabitha and the little girl at the Freehold Market. Seb and his father. Una and Dottie. Reynard's own mother. Other innocents, lives beyond counting ruined by the bastards in their silver towers.

 

When Locke turned back from speaking to Restal, Reynard answered softly.

 

"I suspect you and your... recruiters... might have figured out more about my motivations than most? The simple truth is I don't like your Imperium very much. I don't think it works. Too many selfish, vainglorious and greedy fools at the top. Governors, Generals, Fabricators, Ecclesiarchs… even Inquisitors. Individuals who care more about themselves and their little obsessions than they care about the ones they are supposed to lead and protect."

 

He grinned savagely.

 

"I've always considered it a duty - yes, and a pleasure - to put a thorn in the foot of men like that, any time I get the chance. Or a knife in their guts. To take something back from them. In fact, I'd happily tear the whole thing down around their heads and start over."

 

Then he thought about the foul things he had seen recently - the vile witch Helene, the perverse, mutated Chaos cult of Tarkan Pirentus, what the Inquisitor had just revealed about the daemonic Golem itself. He sighed, conflicted. What would happen to the innocents, of Damocles and beyond, if enemies like these were victorious?

 

"However… I'm learning that maybe there are even worse things out there."

 

He shrugged.

 

"Maybe those things need to be dealt with first? I suppose I'm saying that I know I'm not considered the most trustworthy member of this little team… but I do want to help. I'm not running… not just yet, at least."

 

 

Edited March 17, 2023 by Lysimachus