[DH1e] The Damocles Contingency (RPG IC)

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard rolled his eyes theatrically, then grinned. He dipped a hand into a pocket.

 

"Twenty sufficient? You can keep the change."

 

The youngster nodded and put his hand out to take the proffered coins, but Reynard paused before dropping them.

 

"Keep your eyes and ears open. Our enemies have a nasty habit of turning up at the worst possible moment. Send your message and come straight back here."

 

His face was serious and sincere, the grin gone.

 

"We're trusting you not to run off again. Remember, you need our help to get your da back. Not that you need any other reason besides that to stick with us, but also be aware that what I've just given you is only a fraction of what our employer can and will pay you for the assistance you're giving us."

 

Edited November 17, 2022 by Lysimachus

[Machine God]

Restal:

 

+++ We should leave here very cautiously. Klaus informed our enemies that we were here, who sent the devices. We have to find Reynard! +++ voxxed Kerr Restal

 

"Sorry Kathago, you're on your own. Only idiots deal with explosives, that's not my forte. Sayonara!" said Kerr Restal exiting the bar. 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Kelvin's Ruin:

 

Restal:

 

Karthago closes his eyes, smiles, but it's a weird grimace. As you leave you crunch glass and shrapnel fragments beneath your boots.

 

You are now outside, and beyond both blast radius and earshot.

 

Nicios:

 

Karthago opens his eyes when Restal's bootsteps cease, sees you standing there. Peers across at the bar sadly. "What about you? We only do business...here, apparently. I'll trade you a name, for a life."

 

The Dispatch Box:

 

"Emotional blackmail, eh?" Seb grins, weighs the stack of coins. "It'll pay for the message at least. Who do you work for? Or do I want to know?"

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard's expression was half-grin, half-grimace. He shook his head.

 

"You probably don't. I wasn't exactly given much of a choice if I wanted to work for them… but they do have plenty of Thrones and influence, so there's potential there to make use of them? If any of us survive this mess, maybe I'll cut you in? I've been thinking about putting a crew together…"

[Mazer Rackham]

Go ahead and shop for new threads Tro, there will plenty of opportunities to obtain a good replacement.

 

The Dispatch Box:

 

"If your paymasters are like that, I think I'll bow out." Seb looks at Reynard soberly, with eyes that are suddenly very old, his gaze travels elsewhere. What he remembers is shaken off. He rolls his shoulders.

 

Without further word, he dashes across the street, one man moving with many, and enters the office to talk to the clerk, seated behind the desk in full view. The older woman has incredibly thick lens implants, as well as an auditory evocator.  The Thrones change hands and the small purse goes into one of many deposit/safe storage locker on the wall. A wafer chit is passed across. and a courier is called, who makes some notes on a dataslate, before leaving with a ruff in tow.

 

Seb bounces back, dodging the couriers, bodyguards and public as he does so. He regroups with you on the corner. "Now we wait. I asked for box 303."

 

When you look across, the box he mentions is in plain sight from the corner.

 

"We're going to have to wait. Shall we take the lounge?"

 

There is a small caravan and courier refreshments establishment opposite the Dispatch Box, with a nice view of all the corridors in and out.

 

"By the way, I've never met Tracer." Seb winks. "Kaff?"

 

He passes the spare change Thrones over his knuckles and back into his palm.

Edited November 17, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Lord_Ikka]

Nicios

 

Nicios motioned for the man to wait for a moment, while he began to move the blast victims out of the building. Working quickly, he got the majority of the civilians out and walked back to Karthago. 

 

"I am not a demolitions expert, but I can examine the package to see if there is anything I can do."

Spoiler

Tech-Use Test *(best case I think...?)

Target- 43

Roll- 27

Result= Pass, with 1 DoS

Gingerly touching the package, Nicios attempts to manipulate it without setting off any possible detonation device. He is hesitant, but this may be a way to gain a clue to their foes. 

[A.T.]

Falk

 

Falk looks over at Nicios' efforts, pulling his prisoner out of the direct line of any blast, "probably a pressure switch, like a grenade with the pin pulled. Don't change the angle or pull apart the packing... single small holes". Unclipping his lamp-pack he slid it over to Nicios, not yet willing to risk the hooded mans escape.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

"Sounds good to me."

 

Reynard walked over to the refreshment stand, paying for three mugs of steaming black liquid and taking them to a shadowed table at the rear of the seating area. Out of habit he took a chair with its back against a solid wall. Here they would be unobtrusive, hard to see, but they could clearly see box 303 and all of the exits.

 

"Are you sure this Tracer will turn up in person?" he asked, relaxing into the chair and taking a sip of the bitter liquid.

 

He wondered if the other Acolytes would arrive before the thief. Or even their pursuers might show up again? Hopefully the former rather than the latter. A few more pairs of eyes and a few more bodies in the way of any potential danger would be… pleasant.

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Kelvin's Ruin:

 

Karthago looks down at the package as Nicios gingerly inspects it. It is cheap cardboard, available almost anywhere, the cellophane tape is individually weak, but a devil to get off or cut through, requiring effort to get at the contents.

 

The box itself is in excellent condition, yet there is distortion on the uppermost flap, a bulge as through something below is trying to escape. Karthago has this pressed against his chest. It is possible that this act alone saved him, and everyone near him.

 

"I see you're missing a finger. Gang, cabal, brotherhood?" Karthago says to Nicios.

 

He's speaking to fight the pain; you can see it. The shock must be wearing off in the worst injuries.

 

The Dispatch Box Cafe:

 

Seb takes a sip of the kaff. Makes a face against the bitterness, then gives it a resentful glance before downing it anyway.

 

"He'll likely send someone. Although it depends how much he wants to meet Dreyfuss."

 

Whilst you wait, there is the break in some kind of hive sports game. A broadcast comes in with the hive leader and planetary governor Magda Aldario. The volume is low, but she sadly dabs a black handkerchief to catch a tear on her veiled cheekbone,

 

"My loyal and loving citizens, terrible things are happening to our neighbours, our friends. Within the lower hive, our beneficence is being destroyed by radicals."

 

The vid plays the footage of the assault on the Sanctum. The video is spliced together from lots of different angles, interlaced with footage which wasn't part of the horrific experience, to make it look worse. Children crying, people running around bloodied and battered. One thing is certain, images of Stitches, Reynard, Scourge and a hazy composite of Restal are now being shown to the hive.

 

"My wonderful people, these violent thugs and criminals must be stopped. If you see them, report them to your nearest Arbites precinct."

 

A strange buzzing noise sets your teeth on edge. For a moment, every servo-skull, servitor, and slave-controlled devices hesitate, before continuing what they were doing.

 

Bardas/Tro, please make a Challenging (+0) Willpower Test.

Edited November 18, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Trokair]

With the message sent and the other two taking up position to keep an eye on the box Bardas headed back to the shop he had spied earlier, if there was time to spend he might as well make use of it.

 

Inside the shop it became apparent that the quality on offer was mostly less than what the window advertised. Most of it was typical hive fair, but on one wall was a few examples of the weather resistant garments he had seen on many of the caravan folk wear on his journey to the hive. Thought dependable wear, it was what he had spied from the window, and while he was a little surprised to find them in this style so far into the hive Bardas supposed that even in a weather free environment cloths that could survive a lot of harshness had their use.

 

Before he could take a closer look a audio vibration permeated the entire area, unsettling and strangely modulated.  

 

Spoiler

WP:35

D100: 27, Pass, no DoS

 

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Son of a bi…

 

Reynard saw himself plastered across the vid-screens and immediately shrank even further back into the shadows. The footage had obviously been doctored - not that anyone would believe them if they proclaimed their innocence - but who had obtained it in order to alter it?

 

He knew that the Spider had it, but why would she screw them over in this way? They had been right there in the centre of her web, easy targets if she had wanted them taken out!

 

Maybe the thugs had taken it immediately after their attack? Possible… and an interesting possibility at that. He had assumed they worked for someone wealthy - could it be that they served the Planetary Governor herself? It certainly wouldn't be the first time the ruler of a world had chosen to act in their own interests over those of the Imperium. Had the thugs' ongoing failure to capture the team prompted their mistress to seek the unwitting aid of all her subjects?

 

Either that or she was being fed bad intel by someone else.

 

He frowned. Irrelevant at this point. The question was how to handle it. Scourge and Stitches were gone, Restal was so blurred that he was unidentifiable. Only Reynard himself caused a problem.

 

Perhaps he shouldn't meet up with the others? Perhaps he should quietly disappear and leave the team free to continue the investigation unhindered?

 

Maybe it was a way he could back out of the mission entirely? Surely Verdict and Vigilance couldn't blame him for returning, not when his very presence might ruin their chances of success? For a moment he considered the thrilling possibility of getting out of this whole Emperor-cursed business. It was just a question of whether they'd view him as a loose end that needed tying off…

 

The other option? He could hand himself in to the Arbites, make them take him uphive to Aldario herself, and he could continue working the job from the top down? Such surroundings would certainly be more to his liking… but the chances of being killed were probably even higher than going back to the Vault empty-handed.

 

Edited November 18, 2022 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

The Dispatch Box Cafe:

 

Bardas: The Binharic cant pulses through you, but you shrug off the supplicatory and mandatamus prerogatives. The menial helots, servo-skulls and lobotomised cog-servants will be more...receptive. 

 

Reynard: The damning hand of doom, attached to the long arm of the law does not immediately materialise. The hive goes about it's business, maybe numb to the outrage provided by the savagery within the lower strata.

 

"Might have a bite," Seb calls, pausing in his guzzling. He tips the cup towards a young woman with dark hair, wearing a faded mustard dust coat. She isn't out of place - this close to the underhive gives everything a frontier feel.

 

The dark-haired girl approaches the clerk, talks to the older woman, who then reaches up for the secure boxes.

 

304.

Seb groans, and slumps back into his seat.

[Trokair]

Another worrying sign, this omnidirectional signal. He dared not let his gifts response, even to analysis it in case it could then turn on him, for he had caught enough of it to see the start of overwrite coding. He would mention it to the others.

 

Turning back to inspect the longcoats on display Bardas signalled to the store owner his interest.

 

Spoiler

Evaluate Test
Int: 34

Trying to gauge the quality and value of the longcoat to see if the price asked for it is fair. As per p103 I think you get to make the actual role in secret and then let me know what Bardas thinks he has gleamed.  

 

[Lord_Ikka]

Nicios

 

"No, no gang or cabal. Imperium." Nicios' voice is quiet. He looks around, searching for something heavy. If I could place the box on the floor while sliding a weight on it, then maybe...

Edited November 19, 2022 by Lord_Ikka

[Mazer Rackham]

Bardas:

 

Whilst you determine the materials of the coat to be different to your previous garb, and quite common, the manner of how it is assembled is the real value. Most of them are handmade, some stitched with better thread than others (waxed, bar-tacked etc). In fact, the particular one you are examining is probably underpriced by a handful of Gelt.

 

The storekeep waits patiently for your selection as another customer enters, asking about boots.

 

Nicios:

 

There are chunks of heavy wood panelling, rockrete, or the remnants of furniture (heavy barstools) which could be used. With the device's size, it could be safely assumed the compression switch could be held down quite easily by these objects.

 

"Imperium?" Karthago slowly, painfully pushes up the cuff of his shirt by sliding it on his body, to reveal a Munitorium tattoo. Above it, sits a Maltese, crusader cross.

 

Restal:

 

Outside you are not alone.  Two burly men approach the Gallery from the main street, heading towards the arch. They are armed and armoured in basic equipment, each having an individual preference for equipment placement and choice. One looks concerned, the other impassive. The former accosts you.

 

"What the bloody hell happened here?"

Edited November 19, 2022 by Mazer Rackham
Responses.

[Trokair]

Yes, this one would do nicely; having sought permission from the shopkeeper to try it on Bardas found that the duster was slightly on the large side, but that would be just fine. The shopkeeper had turned to attend to the other customer, so while he waited Bardas inspected the hats on display near the counter, settling on a wide brimmed example. While there was little sunlight in the hive to shield from it alongside the duster would  aid the appearance of an outlander.

 

Business concluded Bardas rejoined the Seb and Reynard at the table, his drink still warm. Catching sight of a repeat of the announcement on the screen he wordlessly took of his new hat and held it out for Reynard, turns out a wide brim might be useful in the hive after all.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Wordlessly, Reynard nodded his thanks to Bardas and took the proffered hat. Disguise was also a valid idea.

 

"I have another thought that might help. Keep watch for a moment?"

 

He stood, moving towards the ablutions at the side of the eatery. Checking that the room was empty, he then locked the door and filled the sink with tepid water. He looked thoughtfully at himself in the cracked, dirty mirror.

 

His long coat was deliberately non-descript. A dark blue-grey, almost black, it was outwardly no different from literally millions of similar garments. Not the problem.

 

He'd originally grown his beard almost a decade ago, to hide his youthfulness, but that had become less and less of an issue as the years passed. In more recent years he'd shaved and re-grown it a few times, depending on the prevailing fashion on the world he'd been working on. Damocles hadn't seemed to have a bias one way or the other, so he'd kept it, but now? Getting rid of it and wearing his new headgear would totally change his look. He wouldn't be a bearded man in a coat, he'd be a clean-shaven man in a hat.

 

Reynard pulled out one of the knives that Verdict had sharpened for him. Time to see how good the mono edge was.

 

[Mazer Rackham]

The Dispatch Box Cafe:

 

As Reynard disappears, the woman with the pale coat stands outside the courier's station, idly scrolling through a dataslate, peering around as though waiting impatiently for someone.

 

Then she notices someone in the crowd, a tall man wearing a long, dark blue cape and hood over a bodyglove...and going pale, lets rip with a piercing scream.

 

A lot of people freeze, some don't even glance up from soylens cups they carefully nurse. Then the man brandishes a knife and runs at her, shouting profanities and screaming threats. She bolts into the crowd, and chaos ensues as panic grips all and sundry, everyone begins dashing higgledy-piggledy to escape a slashing madman.

Edited November 19, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Machine God]

Restal:

 

Two burly men approached the Gallery from the main street, headed towards the arch. Well armed and armoured in basic equipment. 

 

One looks concerned, the other impassive. The former accosts you.

 

"What the bloody hell happened here?"

 

"Explosion, it's carnage in there. The still blew up!" answered Kerr Restal. 

 

He made a show of coughing as he sub-vocalized a Vox code. 

 

+++Company+++

[Mazer Rackham]

Restal:

 

"Bloody hell. Some of our mates are in there, pal, let us past, we'll handle it." The speaker turns to his friend. "Hyram, go get the law and the sawbones, sharp-like."

[Trokair]

Bardas

 

Leaning in towards Seb Bardas's speaker whispered. 

 

 

+Steady, keep your eyes on that box.+

 

Switching over to squad coms.

 

++Lots of excitement here you might not want to miss Vulpine++

[Mazer Rackham]

The Dispatch Box Cafe:

 

There is a shout from the furthest corridor on the left, and a squad of men in blue tunics and trousers piles in. Armed with batons and laspistols, each wears a white armband with INP emblazoned on it. The uniforms are of naval cut, and good quality. They look fit, and ready for a brawl. Thier white flak helms also carry the same INP sigils.

 

One of them has a compact voxcaster usually found with mobile guard units. The VoxOp can be heard calling into the mouthpiece, updating whoever is in control. Besides that, each carries a lamp pack and restraint cuffs. One of them, a wary-weary-eyed man with a Sergeant's insignia, reads the brawl perfectly, spots the perpetrator. With too many innocents in the way, the Sergeant indicates his men should equip for hand-to-hand.

 

"Regulators! Banjo that bastard!"

 

The knot of Naval Police launches forth towards the tall knifeman, crumping anyone stupid enough to stand in their path.

 

Bardas and Seb will now make an Opposed Perception roll.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard smiled wolfishly at his reflection. Not bad. Not quite as smooth as lather and a hot razor, but good enough to alter his appearance.

 

++Lots of excitement here you might not want to miss, Vulpine.++

 

He wondered if Bardas had spotted movement near the box. Then he heard the shouts, the sounds of a brawl. What the hell…?

 

Jamming the broad-brimmed hat back on his head, Reynard hurried to unlock the ablutions door. Then he stood in the doorway, watching the chaos unfold.

 

Impressive.

 

[Lord_Ikka]

Nicios

 

"Yes, something like that." Nicios kept his voice low as he grabbed a large piece of rockrete debris and placed it near his feet. Carefully moving, he slid his hand between the box's top and Karthago's chest. His left hand gripping the bottom of the box, Nicios kept pressure on the top while he moved it from Karthago to the floor. 

 

Breathing shallowly, he placed the rockrete chunk on the box top while moving his hand off. He heard no clicks or sounds from the box, but still moved back from it slowly and carefully. He motioned for Karthago to follow him, to get out of the range of another possible blast.

[A.T.]

Falk

 

Pushing the hood back over the mans face Falk lifted him to his feet, watching for any newcomers. "Is there a back way out?".