[DH1e] The Damocles Contingency (RPG IC)

[Lord_Ikka]

Nicios

"Fire works well." Nicios smiled grimly. "Fire cleanses the unworthy and the damned."

[A.T.]

Falk

A question asked too late to impose on the armoury, some improvisation would be required.

As the market approached the thoughts of fire and witches turned to preachers and other minor acolytes of the Ecclesiarchy. Nicios would doubtless draw attention but to seek the relative solitude of the minor paths was to invite trouble.

The car began to slow, back to work, "are you ready?"

[Beren]

Stitches frowns slightly, although the minute twitch is only visible to Emilia.

"I assure you lord, she has suffered no harm from the incident just now. Everything I can see assures me that she is in good health, and a certain nausea assocaited with vehicular movement is not uncommon."

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

..like you've seen a ghost."

Reynard looked up at Tarrant's query.

Fool, he berated himself silently, one old, dead Hiver and you're forgetting every lesson life ever taught you. Now, focus on what you're doing, don't let anyone else see what you're really thinking… or you'll end up just as dead as that old man in no time!

He forced a smooth, charming grin onto his face.

"Just idly contemplating the age-old questions of life and death, my friend... no answers to be had though. Come, we must hurry. Hopefully we will find that the rest of the cell have also arrived when we reach the Sanctum."

 

Edited September 6, 2022 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Stitches:

Sir Fabian nods. "Poor dear was sick on the train as well. Thank you for your service, Surgeon."

Rummaging at his waist, he tosses a purse onto the seat, giving you a faint smile, before gently closing the partition. You hear his voice from the steering cabin.

"Canthus Medical. The Surgeon can alight there."

Lady Emilia looks relieved, and pats your hand. "My thanks, doctor. I won't forget it."

She struggles back into her long dress, and turns her back for you to zip her up.

Pulling into the House Canthus territory, you can see from the small viewport in the main cabin, a well maintained medicae centre. Armed men patrol it, looking more like Arbites, than soldiers. The large beefsteak who recruited you hands a passcard as the aircar lands in the port.

"Courtesy of his Lordship. You're free to use the facilities, but don't get any ideas," he growls, bending over to get in your face. "I'll be watching you."

The port is high, with a good view of the hive stratum below, plunging beneath you. In the distance is the long spinal tower which shrouds the heat sink shaft. More aircars buzz about you, as the wind snaps and tugs at your clothes. The security detail enter the building, with Lord and Lady safely huddled behind armoured bodies, leaving you alone on the platform.

You receive 30 Thrones, and a Canthus Medical Passcard.

[Mazer Rackham]

At this point, I'm going to pull the party together, and only going to refer to Stitches or Bardas in the particular.

The Sanctum:

The Sanctum is nearly as run down as the rest of the place in which it is situated. Shabby chic blends it in, makes the true purpose invisible. The triage room is small, guarded by Sisters Hospitaller, Frateris Militaris and lots of picter-cams. There are a number of patients. The sharp-eyed spot the genuine and malingerer alike, but the stern looks on the Sister Superior's face, shows she's no fool. Kerr Restal, Reynard and Scourge are shadowy figures emerging from the dim corridors to the main lift shafts, but your vox-nets intermingle, with familiar chimes, allowing you identify each other quickly.

Falk and Nicios are already there, after a tour through a colourful market, and few cutpurses sent reeling by a mind-bullet or three.

The Sister on triage duty approaches the two lawmen.

"Greetings travellers. What ails you?"

It is not clear how many ailments can be healed. The boxes of medical supplies are small, stacked on a shelf behind an armoured glass dispensary.

[Beren]

Stitches bows low before the security guard.

"Many thanks, many thanks. Please convey my... ah, gratitude to his lord and ladyship, for the honour of serving them."

With this said he scuttles off towards the facility. Once he's sure he's out of hearing distance, and that his mouth is out of sight, he mutters into his com-bead.

"Loose in the facility with a medical passcard, and permission to make use of the facilities. Might have a watching eye on me though, one I'd rather not start twitching."

Preferably, the guard's warning would be an empty one. Preferably the noble family would immediately forget him (he was sure they forgot about commoners all the time). Unfortunately, the God-Emperor had long since shown that he didn't give a damn about Garvus' preferences. What was it he had promised to do again? Build a cathedral? Well, that wasn't happening, and he didn't thing His Holiness would fall for it twice.

 

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

Reynard ignored Falk and Nicios entirely, though he wondered what had happened to the rest of the cell. But this was still a public chamber. No point in coming in separately, only to meet up under the eyes of others. Instead, as the trio entered, he immediately approached another member of the Hospitaller staff.

He didn't think Hyronimus would have repeated his words at the Templum to anyone, but someone else might still have overheard them. So, it would be wise to stick to his previous story, at least until they had accessed the more private parts of the Sanctum.

"Your pardon, my lady Hospitaller. My name is Bertram Von Graen, of House Graen. I am here with the blessing of the revered Ecclesiarchs of St Iacinda - they assured me you would be willing and able to assist? My noble retainer here," he gestured to Scourge, "is suffering and in need of a curative. Might I request that we be allowed access to one of your examination suites and that one of your senior staff attend us there for diagnosis and, hopefully, a prescription of some kind?"

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Sanctum:

The Sister Minoris looks up from her dataslate, a young smooth face marked by long hours, bags under her fatigued eyes. She nearly rolls them at Reynard. Her apron is stained, but her hands are immaculate, as are the tools and trays behind her on a bench. The sharp tang of counterseptic seems to permeate the place.

She picks up a plastek box and withdraws latex gauntlets, snapping them on. "The best I can do is a store room. Most of our examination rooms are behind the secured area."

The Sister Superior is busy with Falk and Nicios, but flicks a glance over her shoulder, to see if there is any cause for trouble.

"This way," the Minoris coaxes, directing Scourge to a room, outside of which is a stack of mops, brushes and cleaning fluids. A surgical trolley is clamped the floor. This is obviously the decrepitude Hyronimus mentioned. Along the corridor is an armoured bulkhead, complete with a security office.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

Poor girl. Not unattractive. Perhaps even beautiful, under the weariness. Worked to the bone, probably. Exhausted. Likely not how she had pictured her life. Stuck in a dreary, humdrum existence, just wishing for some excitement.

Ideal.

He reached out and gently caught her hand before she could put on the latex glove, bowed low and then gave her his most devastating smile, just a hint of apology in his tone.

"Then, fairest healer, the secured area it will have to be." 

His reply was firm, but still given warmly. Reynard leaned in, gesturing for her to move closer. As she did so, he lowered his voice to a secretive half-whisper.

"You see," he confided softly, "there is a reason my… 'retainer'… goes masked. There is a reason why he cannot simply have the finest doctors in the Spire care for all his needs. But even so, a storeroom would simply not be… appropriate. I cannot tell you more, though I wish I could…" his piercing blue eyes looked deeply into the young woman's, "...but if you could speak with your Sister Superior and request that she grant us access to a suite within, my 'retainer' would be eternally grateful. As…," he smiled again, "...would I."

 

Spoiler

If required, Charm Test: Fel 45, Roll: 28, Success with 1DoS

 

Edited September 6, 2022 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Sanctum:

The charm offensive breaks through her world-weary exterior, and she lets you hold her hand, assessing you more closely, before slowly pulling her hand back. She does blush, and manages to look disappointed at the same time. Likely because she has to rebuff you for reasons beyond her control.

"I will ask her, but don't say I didn't warn you."

She finishes strapping on the glove with a snap, and approaches the Superior.

We're going to pause there for Nicios and auto-pilot Falk. I am sure the Witchfinder will have something to say to the Superior. ;)

You are getting vox traffic on your comm-beads. It's scratchy, but sounds a lot like the Cell medic...

Edited September 6, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Lord_Ikka]

Nicios

I wish I still had my badge, that would make this easier...

"Sister, my colleague and I are from the Magistratum, Special Investigations Unit. We've received a minor alert from a secured section of this facility. If you could escort us there quickly, we can clear this up and leave you to your good work." 

Nicios hated this sort of thing. He was more used to interrogating suspected witches than deceiving hinest Imperial servants. Hmm, maybe I can do something to help.

"I was sent because I have some abilities that are related to the medical fields. Here, let me show you." 

Taking the sister superior's weary hand, Nicios opened his mind, attempting to heal a little of her aches and pains.

Spoiler

Psychic power Healer

Threshold- 7

Roll- 1 + 2 + 4(WP) = 7

Result- Pass (barely....)

Edited September 6, 2022 by Lord_Ikka

[Mazer Rackham]

Sanctum:

The Mother Superior's eyes widen as the power passes through your contact. She blinks as though listening for something, waiting. Only you, Nicios, could know something within has been mended - a pain driven away. One she has been used to the lash of for quite some time. Her posture alters subtly, a slight straightening of her back. The small kindness makes her look younger, even though her eyes have seen great pain. Hers, and certainly that of others. Your brief contact cuts both ways of course, palms covered in the blood of young and old, trying to force life back into shattered limbs, broken bodies. You hear wind in trees, and the utter freshness of mountain air. Upon how many worlds have her feet trodden dust? She is no wilting spring flower.

And now you've helped her to stand a little taller at her true height of roughly five feet-ten. She gently withdraws her hand from yours, without disgust or fear, and with a healer's understanding, realises the truth of your claims. She clasps her hands in front of her, palm-to-palm, the fingernails practical, short.

"I am the Matron of this small hospice," she says, the crow's feet at the corner of her steel-blue eyes crinkle in a soft narrowing. "I have received no alarms since Biologis Dreyfuss was murdered. The local precinct must have escalated it, for I was told to admit no-one."

Her tone implies a train of thought, not a question.

Falk, merely nods along with the conclusion.

She looks over her shoulder, lips pursed at the lavish foppery of a man whose entire raiment seems to be composed of pockets. A few moments later, her assistant, the young Minoris cuts across the floor, a resigned look on her face.

"Superior, the gentleman craves the privacy of one of the inner suites. He says it is important, but gives no further reason." She tucks a stray lock of chestnut hair behind her ear. "He seems respectable."

The Superior looks around, studying. Face hardening. She regards Nicios. "Or, he's the cause for your alert, Magistrate. I long ceased to believe in coincidences."

[Lord_Ikka]

Nicios

"I agree Sister. We will take them with us, just in case." Nicios' voice was clipped, faintly disapproving. He motioned for the Sister Superior to lead the way, while having Falk bring up the rear.

At least we will all be together...

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

As the young Sister turned away to speak with her mistress, Reynard's microbead hissed. It was hard to hear perfectly, but the voice still was identifiable as the doc.

Reynard moved to one side of the triage centre, followed by Scourge and Tarrant. A quiet area, not far from the security door, but far enough away so as not to cause suspicion. He spoke softly, amusement creeping into his tone.

+++Nice to know you're still with us, Stitches. When I saw the other two without you, I was worried you might have done something that upset our more… upright… teammates.+++

Then he was back to business.

+++We have linked up and are now at the entrance to the Sanctum, attempting to gain access to the secured area. Someone here should know how to get us into the Sepulturum lab.+++

As he spoke, the Superior turned from the lawmen to give him a suspicious look. All three started to move towards him. He spoke again, low and fast, then straightened to give the approaching harridan a gracious smile and a respectful nod.

+++Got to go. Reynard out.+++
 

Edited September 7, 2022 by Lysimachus

[Trokair]

Bardas
 

As the cart slowed down for its final approach Bardas got a good look at his destination, a long hall, used as a store room of sorts, though off to the left he could see other rail terminuses. This places used to be some form of industrial fright interchange point. Perhaps the other lines led to factories or mines in the vicinity of the hive, but alas most looked as unused as the one he had arrived on, functional but not running with much frequency.   

To the right most of the workers and servitors where loading a series of motorised carts, no doubt to deliver their goods to elsewhere on this level of the hive. It did not look like any of the workers had seen him yet, but as the only exit he could see, if he did not want to go down on of the other railed tunnels was past the workers there would be no avoiding them.

At least some of the workers would be Rockheads he thought, as they would want to keep an eye on their connection to the hive, equally however there seemd to be far too many goods stored here for it all to be Rockheads domain. No most likly they just had an agreement whit however owned nad operated from here.

Clambering out of the cart he set it off on the return journey as asked. Wincing slightly as he straightened up, the rest had helped but he still had to mind his injuries. Heading towards the exit, walking casually as if he had every right to be here, he surreptitiously looked over each of the workers searching for any signs that any of the belonged to the Rockheads.

 Finally spotting one with a tattoo on one arm,  just visible bellow a rolled up sleeve he nodded in the workers general direction.

+Pump repair for the Chife.+ he uttered as an explanation and continued for the exit. A few steps later however he turned, as if in though and looked back at the work who now came over.

+I am a little worse for ear, I was told there is Medicae Sanctum where I might be helped, can you give me directions?+

[Mazer Rackham]

Bardas:

The burly stevedore puts down his crate, and nonchalantly unclips a large bolt-wrench form his toolbelt. It is a tool used for unfastening the large bonding nuts which fasten together the caps of large metal containers. It is a solid lump of hardened metal. He taps it into his palm.

"The Chief? Maybe I's 'eard of 'im, and maybe I's ain't." It dawns on him you're staring at his tattoo. He quickly rolls the sleeve down. "We's got a sayin' so we knows who's one of us. If'n you know the Chief, he'll 'ave said."

He doesn't move. Just flexes his biceps.

Sanctum:

The Mother Superior, now leading the charge of the lawmen, cruises towards Scourge, Kerr Restal, and Reynard. Her face is a frame of dignity and cold austerity, no doubt for those she perceives as Ne'er-do-wells. She claps her hands and attracts the attention of several Frateris Militant. Within a few moments, she is surrounded by a handy gang of ruffs sworn to her cause.

"Young man," she begins on Reynard, "I am not some ingenue Novitiate whose bloomers you can inflate with your waffle. What would your mother think of your trying to take advantage of a poor, tired girl?"

You sense that this is where her outrage truly lies, realising she is speaking not as a Superior, but as a Matron.

"You are a robber of virtue, sir, and your clutch of reprobates will leave, or these gentlemen," she indicates Falk and Nicios, "will arrest you."

[Trokair]

Bardas

 

Reaching into one of his pockets Bardas retrieved a small sleeker tooth, it had been unsuitable for enhancing any bullets, being a particular small example, but still recognisable for what it was.  Holding it out to the stevedore he replied.

+You're the Rockheads, simple men who keep our word.+

[Mazer Rackham]

Bardas:

"You speaks it right." The stevedore takes the tooth, grunts. "Blimmin' Sleekers. No good excep' for killin' and cookin'. Take the service lift in't back, it'll take you up a couple o' levels. There's a free clinic a ways up further, might be the one you mean."

He pockets the tooth with wink, and goes back to loading. An honest man about his work.

"The Cogger's a Rockie," he bellows into the large space, "leave 'im be, or else."

The lift will take you up one level at a fair rate, since it's a dead-counterweight not designed for people. You would be familiar with it being a Mechanicus agent. You will have one level between you and the Sanctum, which you will have to negotiate yourself. The initial trip will take 30 minutes.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

Reynard held out his arms wide, his face a picture of confused, slightly wounded innocence. He offered a reassuring smile, though inside he was suddenly cold.

My mother died a long time ago, harpy. Before I stood as high as your shoulder. She ended as a bundle of bloody rags in an underhive gutter. Skin and bones. Last thing she told me was to do whatever I had to not to end up the same.

"Dear Lady, I meant no offense to your Sister, and I assure you my intentions are to the highest good. If you will allow us access to a place of… greater privacy… I will happily reveal the matter to you in full. Furthermore, if you require it, I shall willingly place myself and my companions into the custody of these fine guardians of the Emperor's Peace, and they may watch over us until this whole misunderstanding is resolved."

 

Edited September 7, 2022 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Sanctum:

The Superior bridles less, tone smoother around the edges. "If you people will not take my word," she turns to the newcomers in her demesne before looking back to Reynard, "and you are so hell-bent on having whatever ague plagues you, then come with me."

Once more at cruising speed, the Superior leads you all down to the security station, which is unmanned save for a terminal within.

Beyond it, is a treatment station, the clinical clean-room doors unsealed. You can make out more terminals, and large storage tanks for samples and research studies behind. The tint on the windows is strong enough to block out the lights from within, and all looks like it is ready to be used - abandoned half an hour ago, in the middle of something.

You can just make out strange puddles on the floor, and the slurry of things on shelves, desks. Small metallic pools.

"There. The suites are sealed. If you remain unsatisfied as to why, place your palm on the armoured glass."

MAP:

Spoiler

FLAVOUR ART:

Like this on one half, glass tanks with stuff in them on the other, the usual green goo in it, lots of melted stuff, unidentifiable blobs which may have been specimens/people/whatever. FYI - Doors TO the clean room are unlocked, but closed. Doors FROM the clean room are Sealed (locked/closed)

Spoiler

 

Edited September 7, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[A.T.]

Falk

There was a time to talk, and a time to listen. With still no real understanding of the scope of what faced them each and every individual they met in a place such as this was both suspect and witness, their actions and responses tiny pieces in the puzzle of what took place.

Play the role, allow others to see in you what they wish that they would reveal what they desire. Patience.

Their time limit, the fate of tertius... patience indeed.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

They followed the Matron up and around the corridor towards the security door. Reynard looked back, checking they were not visible from the triage area. When the Superior spoke, he frowned and stepped forward to peer through the armaglas into the treatment area. Odd. The puddles and stains. Brownish in colour. Like rotten vegetation, or even dried bl… Could they be once-living tissue? The remains of Sanctum or even Sepulturum staff?

He did not understand how such a monstrous effect might be achieved, especially without damaging the Medicae equipment. A wide-band, low-power melta blast, perhaps? Or a toxin or virus? Whatever the case, it did seem possible that it might be part of the 'autoclave' process Verdict had mentioned at their initial briefing.

Calmly, as if calling the Matron's bluff, Reynard laid his hand against the window.

"Can we not enter? I think we need to hear exactly what has happened here, Sister."

He spoke softly, dropping all trace of charm or guile from his manner, leaving only cold, considering thoughtfulness.

 

Edited September 7, 2022 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Sanctum:

Reynard: The warmth of your hand is reflected on the glass, which becomes hot very quickly. What you may have dismissed as warp and weft in the very thick pane, is obviously occasional shimmer. So little of it means the room temperature is constantly hot enough to make the armaglas warm, but not melt it. Being a hiver, you are aware how tough building materials have to be. The rest of the surfaces in the room make sense now. Plain plasteel and plascrete, the finer objects expensive to produce, but which will stand the autoclaving.

Anything else is a puddle - or reduced to a strange organic blob mimicry of a recognisable object. It is a scene painted by a bedlamite remembrancer.

"I will not and cannot breach the seal," the Superior staunchly states. "Should the Magister have the authority, that is his duty, but I know not the cryptogram of opening. I leave it in the Emperor's hands. I will pray for the soul of Biologis Dreyfuss, after attending my patients."

She excuses herself and leaves the party to their own devices, giving the lawmen a firm nod.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

Reynard pulled his hand back as soon as it started to get warm. The autoclave process was still active? If it had done its job and then shut down, the heat would have dissipated over the last seven days. Probably would have released the seal on the door too.

The Superior strode away before he could ask further questions. Where were the controls? What cryptogram? Was this the only way in and out of the laboratory? Did her Sanctum have any security picters that recorded anything of what had happened here? What did she, as the overseer of this place, know about the Ordo Sepulturum and their work here?

He watched the old shrew turn the corner and disappear. Not very helpful. Reynard turned back to look at the window and the sealed door, then at the security station between them. Whatever she said, they needed to get inside and recover any evidence. With a shrug, he stepped forward to examine the terminal.

"Anyone know their way around these things? Where is the tech-adept, by the way? We could certainly use him right now?"

Edited September 8, 2022 by Lysimachus