[DH1e] The Damocles Contingency (RPG IC)

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal:

 

He placed his las carbines back in their holsters within his duster. He then knelt down and grabbed the pouch full of a thousand thrones that Tarkan had tossed to him.

 

 

Always play up to the act for the Craft.

 

 

Kerr Restal walked over to the body of Tarkan Pirentus, his katana in hand.

 

 

With practised ease like he'd done it many times, he decapitated the corpse and removed Tarkan Pirentus' head.

 

 

Sheathing his sword he then walked over to where Von Graen was stood. Maybe the controls needed a retinal scan?

 

 

 

Edited March 10, 2023 by Machine God
typo

[Mazer Rackham]

The Cradle:

 

De Grassi watches Restal go about his grisly work, then returns to the matter pressing him.

 

+Stringing me along? A Redback? The horror!+ De Grassi laughs as the flames spread around the cradle turned crucible. +That's why I take out insurance. Like a high bounty, perchance...I do the stringing, old man. I pull on the wire, and people end up doing what I want. I told you that. What was your insurance, eh? 'Bang, bang, yer dead?'+ he apes a vernacular lower-hive accent.

 

The smoke thickens, and you know it will douse the fire eventually, but the dark haze begins to pool in the well of the ceiling. His helmet cants, considering.

 

+Perhaps you could help me find it, being an Inquisitor and all,+ he drawls, +But then, you'd just come back and crush the bug. Teach the child a lesson, perhaps?+

 

He paces back and forth, arachnae spinneret arms folding and flexing like strange fingers on a hand.

 

+I'll give you a deal. You owe me your lives - both of you,+ he accuses with finger jabbed at Restal first, then Reynard. +Find that antidote, give it to me, and when you do, you forget about me, and we never see each other again.+

 

He kicks a flaming cushion away from him, to land on one of the corpses.

 

+You've got two minutes before you can't breathe, your arch-magnificency.+

 

Investigating the locking panel on this side will reveal a retinal device, vox-coder, and keypad. Since the door opened to admit you, it would be reasonable to assume De Grassi has the number.

Edited March 10, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard grinned, ignoring the flames.

 

"Sorry old boy. We don't owe you squat. By your own admission, we're currently in this hole doing a job for you. It's your fault we're here. I'm glad it's you, though. Cuts out waiting around for the middleman to pay up." He pointed at the trophy in Restal's hand. "The job's done. Right now, you owe us. 5k, split three ways. We'll take it now."

 

Then he shrugged.

 

"But that's a separate matter, just between the four of us. Officially, the facts haven't changed since we talked in the lift. The Inquisition doesn't care about you. At all. They will happily leave you to your little… diversions."

 

He didn't try to hide his contempt for De Grassi's hedonistic, murderous, wasteful lifestyle.

 

"But you need to help us. Firstly, get us out of here. Secondly, you tell us everything you know about the current threat to Damocles' Hives. We know you're in deep with the Aldarios. Their House is already as good as gone, dead and buried. The Arbitrators are currently planning to burn your whole House to the ground along with them. And hunt you specifically and string you up with your own little webs. Good day to be the Cassals and the Horvons, right?"

 

He shrugged again.

 

"You know I'm not a full Inquisitor… in fact, I never said I was. But I do work for them. I can put in a good word, maybe change their minds… if you help. Best deal you're going to get."

 

Edited March 10, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal:

 

Whilst he was checking the access panel for the door, he listened to Reynard and De Grassi talk.

 

 

 

INT 33 Halved = 16. Result: 03, Pass 1DoS

 

 

He was sure that something was missing.

 

 

Reynard pointed at the Pirentus' head. "The job's done. Right now, you owe us. 5k, split three ways. We'll take it now."

 

"No that's not right Von Graen! It is two for you and me and one for Una. You told Una that she'd be getting a K, that was your deal. Anyway, I've got the head."

 

 

He walked back to Pirentus' body.

 

Holding up the head, he asked it "Tarkan were you a person that kept a note of the code written down?

 

"Maybe" the head said with Restal's voice. "I'm a stupid crimelord that let two killers into his casino."

 

 

He set about searching the body. Trying not to think about the voices and the weird design on the floor.

 

 

 

 

 

Edited March 10, 2023 by Machine God
typo

[Mazer Rackham]

The Cradle:

 

+Only two of you? I'd swear there was a third in your skull,+ De Grassi offers Restal, before turning on Reynard.

 

+Do I look like I have pockets?+ He laughs. +Besides, what exactly is the threat to Damocles hive? Aren't I looking at it?+ He shakes his head slowly, mocking, before clicking his tongue. It relays in an odd staccato through his helm-vox. You can imagine the wry look on his noble face as he does it.

 

+Dear me, you don't know much of anything do you? The other houses, can all go and hang, and the Rozzers certainly are busy, aren't they? You've got nothing, old man. As for the Aldarios, I was banished from their loving embrace a long time ago. Persona Non-Grata. I only have time for the one who'd never spurned me.+ He holds up, and wags a finger. One of his spinnerets copies the gesture with a filament nozzle. An odd, and distracting quirk of the wargear.

 

+I'd do anything for her, and when I heard she might be alive...everything I did was for her,+ he catches himself, looks sidelong at Reynard, makes a fist. +You'd never understand - not a man like you.+

 

He strides to the door, the long way round, never turning his back, although his weapons are averted, going past all three of you. He pounds on the huge, thick slab of metal, hammering out a cipher. Several heartbeats later, it is returned, and De Grassi grunts. Punching in the code, he mimics Pirentus' voice perfectly, before staring into the viscon emitter. It reads a holoprojection across his helm face. +Alien technology, isn't it splendid?+

 

The door grinds open and a lithe figure haunts the edges: another of his Malcadon Clade. More insurance. The smoke swirls out of the gap, as cool air rushes in. The flames are fanned, before doused by the sudden blow-out gasp.

 

+Stuff your deal. I'll do it without you,+ he says, bitterly, although it seems he says it to himself.

 

With that he deftly sidesteps through the ever increasing gap in the door, and the twang-sling-string noises begin, and fade. When you emerge, the lounge is silent, vacant, and the two guards are dead, strung up in silken steel cocoons that are slowly slicing their bodies apart in dripping, dropping chunks.

 

Una coughs, holding her ribs and stomach. "Someone take me home?"

Edited March 11, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard nodded gently, offering his arm.

 

"Of course."

 

He stepped out of the bunker, taking as deep a breath as possible of cool, recycled Hive air. As they moved slowly back along the service corridor, Reynard tried his microbead.

 

"Reynard to Haldane. React team to the St. Iacinda's Cradle bar, now. Mutation and moral threat. Subdued, but I want flamers brought in. This hole needs to be cleansed. Send me a damn medic too."

 

[Mazer Rackham]

We can assume that Reynard's request is followed up, with the Arbites providing a transport to bring him back to the Halls of Judegment. On the way you drop off Una.

 

The hab-cell is modest, but it is in the safer part of the middle hive, with only a few drug dealers lurking, that are easily scared away by the intimidating presence of Reynard and Restal. The judges wait by the ground car, impassive but watchful.

 

Una presents her keycard, fishing for the chain around her neck, and as soon as the door opens, a small voice begins shouting.

 

"Mama! Mama!" Small feet pound towards the door as the charging bairn jumps. She must be five or six summers old.

 

Una catches her and bounces her in very tired and bruised arms. She shows the girl to you, a much younger version of the woman who hates skirts. "This is Dorothea, but that's a big name for a small girl, so we call her Dottie."

 

"You're very big!" Dottie says to Restal.

 

"What on earth happened to you?" a woman's voice, comes from the adjacent bedroom, before a woman no bigger than Una emerges.

 

"I'm alright sis. I was just working hard," Una replies winking. She puts Dottie down to run off to her aunt, who collects the girl. Una sighs. "Wire me the bounty? And...thanks."

 

She slips inside with a tired smile and closes the door. It locks instantly.

 

You can assume you get to the precinct roughly the same time as Bardas finishes his armour modifications.

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal:

 

He searched Pirentus' corpse thoroughly and then left the bunker carrying the head. 

 

He left the Cradle with his Reynard and Una, but not before picking up Pirentus' coat that had been left on the chair in the club. 

 

When the Arbites arrived he showed the dataslate and claimed the Bounty on Tarkan Pirentus. 

 

 

 

Edited March 11, 2023 by Machine God
Bounty

[Mazer Rackham]

The Bounty will clear, and it will also be supported by a report from De Grassi. He's kept his word.

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal:

 

"Smart kid for a smart lady, heh Von Graen?" said Restal as they headed to the transport. "We work well together, just like back with the Scourge."

 

He shook the Weasel's hand and palmed a note to him, as they were walking.

 

 

As they got back in the transport, at a quiet moment Reynard looked at the note.

 

 

The Note:

 

< You've got the gen of da streets, you're smart. Evaluate this gear I got from Tarkan and we can drop off on the way to get some meds and better gear.

What say you? Nod or shake? 

 

R. >

 

 

Restal waited for the sign.

 

 

 

Edited March 11, 2023 by Machine God
Forgot to mention the Scourge.

[Mazer Rackham]

Reynard may make a Challenging (+0) Evaluate Test at his discretion.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

By the time they'd left Una with her family, Restal had received the payment of the bounty. It was pleasing to learn that De Grassi had some kind of honour left in him. It took only a few minutes to split the funds between them and send the girl her share - plus a bit of Reynard's as well. Well, he was still more than fifteen hundred Thrones ahead of where he was when this mess started a few days ago, and it seemed that she could use the money?

 

Back in the aircar, Restal spoke and slipped him a note. He grinned back, lookIng over the gear the voider had taken.

"Agreed, Kerr. We've made it through some tough spots in the last few days."

 

 

Spoiler

Evaluate test: Int37/2 = 19, Roll: 54, Fail. (Sorry bud, Reynard doesn't have Evaluate either!)

 

 

"Not much idea, I'm afraid. I suspect they might be industrially produced, not worth half of what Tarkan claimed. But I wouldn't hold onto them too long, my friend. I don't fully understand exactly what was happening in Pirentus' den, but I know enough to have not liked it. Items from places like that sometimes carry a... taint?"

 

As they travelled back, he spotted an uphive outfitters and insisted the Arbitrator driver stop while he went inside. His clothing had been heavily damaged by fire, blade and bullet. Might as well spend some of his newfound wealth… after all, they might be dead tomorrow. He was able to get cleaned up and purchase replacement or repair of all his garb, leaving him looking as good as new... even if he didn't feel it yet. The tailor had made some interesting claims about the thermoplastic material of his new coat's lining, but they actually seemed accurate. Maybe De Grassi had a point about xenos-designed gear?

 

Reynard was even able to replace some of the ammunition he'd spent in the Cradle. The hotshot charge pack the outfitter supplied was pristine, brand new. When he slotted it home, it made his elegant old pistol look decidedly worn. Now that was a thought. Maybe if the gunsmith Karthago was still alive, somewhere, Reynard could now afford to pay for a proper strip-down and service? Realign the focus, check the power transfers? It would be… pleasant… to see the weapon restored to the way he remembered it when his mother had first given it to him.

 

 

Spoiler

Reynard gains 1,500TG
Spends:
Mesh Cloak (350 TG)
Hotshot charge (15TG)

1,135TG added to Stash.

 

 

***

 

When they reached the Halls of Judgement, the place was alive with chatter. In spite of his wounds, Reynard felt slightly smug when he limped in and overheard the rumours. He knew it! Locke was alive and on Damocles! Ha! So much for Verdict and Vigilance and all their 'research'. He wondered where the Inquisitor had been hiding…?

 

Edited March 11, 2023 by Lysimachus
Added Evaluate Result, thanks GM!

[Mazer Rackham]

Reynard:
 

A quick note on Evaluate - it's a soft skill that basically works on judgement, and has a hidden mechanic that the GM applies it to.

 

in this case, given the experience of the pouch's former owner, and his occupation, you 'think' the gems may be industrial or even 'hot'. In either case, it will make passing them on - even through fences - difficult, and therefore the pouch which Pirentus claimed was a grand, you suspect may only be able to realise 300 TG.

[Machine God]

Kerr Restal:

 

The Weasel had had a shuftie over the captured booty and claimed that the haul wasn't much. Even the throne pouch hadn't the clink of thrones but the clunk of gems, which the Weasel said were probably industrial rather than real. Worth maybe three hundred Thrones.

 

 

 

PER 31 Halved = 15. Result: 03, Pass 1DoS

 

 

He went with the quote. He still had the fine jacket.

 

The bounty had been paid over to him and then divvied out as Reynard had decided.

 

Restal followed Von Graen in to the uphive outfitters to get some new gear. Reading the signs about the show - signs within signs (Cyphers Acolyte), he passed Tarkan Pirentus' exquisite suit to the tailor.

 

He politely waited whilst Von Graen was being attended to. Presently he was ushered in to the exclusive section for the discerning deviant.

 

Here he was subjected to the cold steel of the measure, the innuendo and the metaphor.

 

"Suit's you Sir!"

 

The dance and the knowing. Not too dissimilar to the education lesson in The Rack from Seren and Drussa.

 

He was stripped and then fully attired. His body-glove was augmented with Xenos-Mesh. He exchanged his Light Flak Trench Coat for a normal one, with the pockets altered to his specifications. He acquired a nice leather bag containing a medikit and a he exchanged the power packs from his las-carbines for overcharge packs.

 

All monies were transacted in the hush-hush, the spirit of legerdemain.

 

Exiting the shop he called back, "Be Seeing You!"

 

He then got back in to the transport where Reynard was waiting, they then proceeded to the Halls of Judgement.

 

 

Kerr Restal gains 2,300 Thrones.

Purchases:

Mesh Cowl - 100 Thrones.

Xeno Mesh - 375 Thrones.

Medikit - 150 Thrones.

 

2x Overcharge Packs - 30 Thrones.

1645 Thrones added to Wealth.

 

Spent 1 Fate Point: Result 4 = 2 Wounds

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited May 6, 2023 by Machine God
Normal Trench Coat saves 4 KG

[Mazer Rackham]

The Depths:

 

+ ROUND ONE CONTINUES +

 

+ Initiative Order +

 

Spoiler

Falk: 13 (Arriving Round 2) [x]

Drone 1: 11 (12/12) (Arm 3)

Guard 1: 10 (10/12) (Arm 4)

Guard 2: 6 (10/12) (Arm 4)

Nicios: 5

Drone 2: 5 (12/12) (Arm 3)

Drone 3: 5 (12/12) (Arm 3)

 

MAP:

Spoiler

 

Drone 1:

One of the machine-men slithers down the corridor, felid-like, taking cover at the corner, partially shielding itself, before a claw comes hurtling from the thing, snapping and snagging at Nicios.

Spoiler

Half Action: Half Move

Half Action: Ranged Grapple (Nicios)

WS: HIT

Guard 1:

Bodyguard instincts kick in, and the autopistol immediately spits a torrent of slugs at the menace.

Spoiler

Full Action: FAB (Drone 1)

BS: HIT (1 hit, Body)

Damage: 11

 

Drone 1: Reaction

Dodge: FAIL

Damage: 4 Wounds

 

I will pause here to let Nicios attempt Dodge on the Grapple.

[Lord_Ikka]

Dodge Test

Target - 32

Roll - 25

Result = Pass

[Necronaut]

Scourge:

 

He allowed himself to be led away, releasing Bardas's shoulders with little resistance with a muttered apology. He and the Lord Inquisitor exchanged no words as they were led to the mortuary by a Verispex medicae, a burning rage coalescing in his breast. His clenched fists were shaking by the time they reached the chilly room, but both relaxed as numbing shock hit him like a hammer at the sight of the white-haired cadaver, of the Angel laid in repose. He trembled briefly at the threshold, unable to fully believe what he saw. Even death could not rob Valkyrie, the Lady Costanza, of her beauty. Though no color lit her features any longer, she was still lovely, if greatly diminished. 

 

A few moments later he was at her side, his bare forehead pressed against the cold slab upon which she lay. He had torn his helm from his head and dropped it and his lasgun along the way, such was his grief at their reunion. The first person to shown him an ounce of kindness in the decade since he had been brought back into the Imperial fold, since he had commenced his personal crusade for redemption. He had known her a scant few days, yet had felt so utterly disarmed by her demeanor, piety and radiance that, that… No, he was base scum, a prisoner of his own making. It would never have worked. Tears came unbidden. An Angel had been slain in defence of the Imperium, of his cell of Acolytes. She was with the God-Emperor now, but he could not deny the rage, the indignity of knowing he would never receive her beneficence again.

 

Locke's hand on his shoulder caused him to straighten, and he wiped his face with the back of a worn, flak-plated leather glove.

 

"Forgive me, Pater. I knew her only briefly, and not as well as thou didst. She was the first person to show a wretch like me any…" He bit back a sob and continued, "Any kindness since the start of my Penitence. And I was unable to fully repay it. My shame knoweth no bounds." 

 

He rose and collected his sallet and lasgun, leaving without a further word. He wanted to find a secluded place to pray, away from her, away from everyone.

 

+++

 

He found an unused cell within the precinct, doffed his sallet and knelt, setting his lasgun to his side and drawing his trusty battle-axe. He briefly beheld the formidable weapon, tracing the outline of its crescent blade and wicked reverse bill hook with his thumb as he considered all that had led him to this place, this moment. Gripping the handle with both hands he started by uttering the words of the five litanies to Sanguinius followed by five Chaplets, dutifully reflecting upon the suffering of the Master of Mankind. He was silent for a time, before he began to pray for forgiveness from the Emperor, as he had many times before, forgiveness for his years of shame and descent into barbarity, for the three lives he had taken when loyal servants of the Throne had come to rescue him. The dead men's faces came forth from the depths of his psyche, where they ever haunted him.

 

He removed his left glove, and holding his axe up, he calmly sliced open his exposed palm, swearing an oath of vengeance in the name of the God-Emperor. No enemy would be spared his wrath. Blood ran down his arm, and drops fell onto his battered helm as he squeezed his quivering fist. 

 

+++

 

Following a short visit to the medicae to bandage his hand, he found Locke conversing with Haldane. So cleansed by his penance, prayers and blood-oath, he approached the two and knelt. 

 

"Forgive mine intrusion, Pater, and my flight from the mortuary. My grief was too much to bear. I would honor the memory of Lady Costanza this day in holy combat. I beseech thee to permit me to bear what remains of her sacred warplate into battle, that the relic, as salvaged by friend Bardas, might mete out justice to the wicked and defend the righteous again!"

 

He bowed his blood-anointed helm and clenched his wounded fist, causing its bandage to stain crimson anew. "But because I am a base soldier, unworthy of its magnificence, I possesseth not the holy mechanisms to master its fury. Might I beg thy favor in this matter, my liege?"

 

Edited March 13, 2023 by Necronaut

[Mazer Rackham]

Scourge:

 

"I applaud your zeal, crusader," Locke replies. "Tech Sentinel Bardas will know the incantations, and Mortician Adamas will perform the surgery."

 

"Lady Valkyrie will bequeath he neural mantle, that her mission, and your absolution, may be fulfilled."

 

Adamas nods, and goes to fetch the surgical tools, whilst Bardas moves closer.

 

"Lie on the slab next to hers," Adamas calls.

 

He fetches thuribles, the incense swirling above the resting bodies, thickening to ward against clades of infection. Counterseptic is handed to Locke, and with a wry smile he decants it liberally, looking quite at home with anointing.

 

"Prepare thyself, Acolyte," Adamas says. "The Lady Valkyrie is beyond pain, but your road is just to begin."

 

"If you die, I will absolve you," Locke says. "Your soul will go to Him, clean. As is right."

 

Alright Necro, make your tests, interwoven with appropriate out-of-body experiences.

 

You will roll Opposed Toughness Tests, which will be countered by Medicae rolls (on behalf of Tro). Adamas will gain +10 to his attempts thanks to Assistance.

 

 

Edited March 13, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard limped on through the Halls of Judgement. Arbitrators and Frateris troopers - oddly contrasting in heavy black carapace and simple sackcloth - seemed to be working with united purpose, preparing for conflict. As he spoke to various officers, it became clear that the militia had arrived with Locke and had been admitted on his authority. But even more interesting, he had been accompanied by a huge monk and another soldier, equipped with lasgun and axe and wearing the garb of a Feudal knight… could it be Scourge?

 

But what about the others? Had Falk and Nicios returned with Kraevus Aldario yet? What about Bardas? What new information had been uncovered during his absence?

 

Reynard took a lift heading down towards the forensic level, with its morgue and verispex labs. He thought he remembered there also being an infirmary on the same floor where he hoped he could get his wounds checked. Then he wanted an introduction to the mysterious Inquisitor Lord.

 

As the doors opened onto the correct level, with its bright lighting and cold, white corridors, Reynard stepped off to see Haldane approaching from the other direction, coming from the medical centre.

 

"Provost," he offered lightly, "thanks for arranging the ride back. What news?"

 

Edited March 13, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Reynard:

 

Haldane looks up from one of his ever-present dataslates, his cheeks carrying the soot of propellant scouring.

 

"Quite a lot," he replies, cold. "From all reports, we appear to be dealing with a significant contagion of the Great Enemy. I will of course defer to you and your masters upon it. I hope that we do not have to expose our Judges to it. We have precious few we can execute."

 

His face tightens in a wince. It is clear he cares for the lives of his men, and how deeply the hive is embroiled in terrible blasphemy.

 

"Cults have sprung up everywhere. What ground we held is now ground we hope to claim. Our men are being battered by psychopaths, the tainted and below, your master is convinced, lurks the heart of it all."

 

"Hyronimus - I mean, Lord Locke conducts an operation on one of your comrades. Excuse me."

 

Haldane brushes past, calling for troopers. Several teams of Judges are pacing around with purpose, heading to armouries or going on patrol. They're tired, hopped up on stimms and recaf, pulling 14 hour tours to keep the lid from blowing off the kettle. You can sense it all around you, the broiling anticipation, the keen readiness for the explosion that's sure to come.

[Necronaut]

Scourge:

 

He felt his skin prickle with gooseflesh as he lay down upon the chilled slab. Turning his head, he looked at the deceased Costanza, eyes permanently shut, their inner light would fill the world no more. He closed his eyes in turn and breathed in the cloying smell of burning incense from the thuribles and slowed his breathing. Shunts were inserted into his arms, feeding a cooling drip of anesthetic and protective unguents into his bloodstream. Drowsiness began to take him, and before darkness stole his senses, he thought he heard Father Hyronimus whisper to him, "Steel thyself, Acolyte."

 

+++

 

The sensation was akin to being flayed alive. Every nerve ending in his body had been set alight, and he was torn effortlessly from the medicinal sleep. He would have screamed and attempted to flee, save for the paralytic that had been administered to prevent him from moving during the delicate operation. With blunt force, the pain drove him unconscious again, his field of vision dimming to grey-black. 

 

 

Toughness Test (+0) #1 target: 44

 

Roll: 13; success with 3 DoS

 

 

+++

 

He awoke again to see his right arm laid open to the bone. No pain-killers known to man or the Emperor could quell this pain. What he was experiencing was akin to what Astartes aspirants were subjected to during the process of re-moulding their bodies in the God-Emperor's image, save that he was over twice their age and not so blessed with their enhanced physiology. His eyes rolled back in his head as the voice of his father came to him in the sparring cage as a youth.

 

Move, parry, counter-stroke! Move, parry, counter-stroke! Again, but faster!

 

Searing pain assaulted his senses, obliterating his comprehension and rendering him insensible. 

 

 

Toughness Test (+0) #2 target: 44

 

Roll: 90; failure with 4 DoF

 

Fate point re-roll: 82: failure with 3 DoF

 

 

+++

 

He felt himself sinking into a dark morass, unable to draw breath, like sinking into quicksand. He clawed at the darkness to no avail; his limbs were leaden and unresponsive. He was drowning, or maybe his lungs no longer functioned, he knew not which. Then, glimmering in the far distance, a light appeared. If he could just reach it… 

 

 

Toughness Test (+0) #3 target: 44

 

Roll: 35; success with 0 DoS

 

 

Edited March 14, 2023 by Necronaut

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

So, Pirentus' little pleasure cult had been the tip of the proverbial iceberg? Worrying. Very worrying. Time to be gone from here?

 

He wondered if the heretics had recruited their members from amongst the other criminal elements of Hive Primus. Perhaps it would be beneficial to find the woman known as 'Drexler' again? She might be part of the corruption or not, but either way, Reynard was sure she would have information about what was happening. Maybe a way off-world too. As he was pondering, Haldane finished speaking.

 

What did he just call the Inquisitor?

 

Hyronimus?!

 

It couldn't be…! Could it? Surely not? Reynard supposed that 'mad Confessor' was as good a cover as anything else… but really…?

 

He hurried through to where Haldane had pointed, the observation area of the mortuary.

 

What in the Emperor's name are they doing to Scourge?!
 

Edited March 13, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Scourge:

 

The surgeon and Bardas work like a well-oiled machine to remove the neural link. The Mortician grins from behind his surgical helm, varied lenses and magnifiers fitted to a sterile rebreather. You can hear the smile in his voice.

 

"This won't hurt a bit."

 

He's not lying, as you discover.

 

Surgical Rolls:

1. PASS x 3 DoS
2. FAIL x 2 DoF
3. FAIL x 2 DoF

Calculation:

Total DoS (All, TB/Med): 6

Total DoF (All, TB/Med): 7

 

Scourge Receives the following:

• -3 Wounds (Permanent Reduction),
• -3 Toughness (Permanent Reduction).
• The Power Armour Integration (Neural) Talent
  • May interface with any PA fit for humans, of any class (Light PA, Full PA, TDA etc, but 'Hulking' works as normal - it's not a Black Carapace).

 

 

 

Edited March 13, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[Mazer Rackham]

The Depths:

 

Nicios dodges the launching, grasping claw.

 

Guard 2:

Spoiler

Leans out from behind Nicios, pointing his autopistol.

Full Action: FAB (Drone 1)

BS: HIT 2 DoS (3 Hits - Body, Body, Arm - R)

Damage: 11, 9, 5

 

Drone 1:

The bullets hammer the drone, parting metal from the meat. The last shot careens off the wall, doing no damage.

Damage: 6 Wounds (02/12)

 

Nicios [ ]

Edited March 13, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[Lord_Ikka]

Nicios

 

Nicios grimaced. These drones were tougher than he wanted to see. He let off a rippling blast of fire from the autogun, hoping to put down the damned thing.

Spoiler

Full Action, FAB (Drone 1)

BS -  36 - 10 (1/2 skill with weapon) -10 (semi-darkness) +20 (Full Auto) = 46

Roll - 26

Result = Hit, 1 DoS (2 hits - Body, Body)

Damage = 11, 7

The rattling hammer of the bullets did nothing good to his aching head. Hopefully Falk would get here soon and they could figure out what was going on.