[DH1e] The Damocles Contingency (RPG IC)

[Mazer Rackham]

The Precinct:

 

It could resemble an old cavalry charge from days of yore on the ancient cradle of mankind. The Arbiters aren't stupid, they mount up, and form a phalanx of hardened steel, known to any who served with the men of Krieg, as a Panzerkiel. As the men of law form a shieldwall, so they apply the tactic to mounted assault.

 

The heaviest vehicles shield the softer skinned ground cars, but each are full. Riding in an up-armoured Repressor, the dozer blade keening sparks, firing small lumps of  momentarily trapped rockcrete off from under the heavy plough-blade like bullets, is Inquisitorial Cell Virtue. Around you, grim faces of the Proctor, his immediate staff, and opposite Scourge, Cephas.

 

His blunt, chisel-nose helm stares at the power-armoured zealot opposite, slightly canted. Perhaps a smile lurks beneath the Maximus visor.

 

As the precinct square is rapidly eaten up by the storm of armoured vehicles, steel hail patters on the flank and roof, the sporadically activating wall defences - at least the lighter variants - are raking the assault force. Thumps of something heavier cleave nearby, the explosions close, followed by secondaries as ammunition and fuel in the softer-skinned vehicles cook off as they are destroyed.

 

And almost without warning, the lights in the troops bays douse. The Proctor twists his head, listening to something over the net. He catches Falk's eye and nods.

 

At that moment, the storm bolters and heavy stubbers of the Arbites vehicles open up, targeting their own precinct, attempting to disrupt and destroy their own, Imperial-forged weapons. Smoke cannisters and blind grenades dispense in rapid staccato from the vehicle mounted launchers. The impetus of the charge does not slow, and the Repressors send out a riotous reverberating hammer blow as they smash into the precinct's curtain wall, and into the parade square beyond.

 

+Everyone dismount!+ the Proctor calls.

 

Ramps crash down, almost at once red-robed fiends are in view, shooting and reaching into the vehicles with their long, telescoping arms, tearing out throats, ripping up limbs, the steel finger-blades coming back with satin, scarlet sheen.

 

Cephas takes first blood for your vehicle. His battered Astartes bolter scythes down four brutes in a half-heartbeat, and the way is clear.

 

+Disperse!+ he says. It is not growled, there is no tremble of excitement or fear, that may be felt in a human throat. To avoid confusion, he has swapped his ragged scarlet robes for better fitting, deep bottle green.  The hem is resplendent with woven golden keys, and snaps and flaps about him as he moves in a blur of awesome speed.

 

The Proctor looks at the team, from Restal to Falk, and back. +Good luck.+

 

The he is gone, and the signal beacons on your cartograph paint the way through a nearby duct, into Bastion 2.

 

+Scourge. Get out here, you lazy squire,+ Cephas says, without heat. His bolter goes off again, howling shells with greater fury than the human-scale bolters around him.

 

The plan is underway.

 

Exitus. Acta. Probat.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard frowned thoughtfully. Who to contact first? Surely the Arbitrators were attempting to coordinate a counter-strike against the Golem's forces, and perhaps with the Strategium out of action they could use the Voivode's systems to act as a temporary communications centre? How to convince them that Reynard and Cutter were not imposters, though? How to be sure that whoever they contacted first was who they claimed to be?

 

He smiled suddenly. They could use a reliable, secure, known relay - one that, if there was a fight going on, would almost certainly be in the middle of it.

 

"Cutter, connect me to the Astartes."

 

The Space Marine's armour systems would be just as secure and self-sufficient as the Voivode's, utterly proofed against the Golem's efforts to subvert or spy. He was also sure that the machine spirits of lander and warplate would be familiar to one another.

 

+Brother Cephas? This is Acolyte Reynard. I am aboard the Voivode in the Arbitrators' Hangar Bay. I assume you are aware of the Golem's attack against the Halls of Judgement. They struck against the Panopticon and Strategium. Vox channels are therefore compromised, be wary of false flags. Inquisitor Locke was there, I do not know what has happened to him … but I have evacuated the Lady Gwynne from the medical wing. She is with me here. The Voivode is heavily damaged, so I am unable to get her off-planet, but we are reasonably secure for now. I suspect the Golem will be sending more servitors to our location, but until they stop us, we may be able to act as a relay for any planned assault to retake the Halls? Can you spread the word?+

 

Edited June 3, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

The Voivode:

 

A thin smile delivers the reply. +Yes, the Golem sends his wretches here. We dispatch them to hell.+

 

A ping returns in your ear, before roger-bleeps and squelch variable appends the other Cell members vox-beads. You hear your own words passed to them.

 

In the background of the different comlinks you can hear your comrades talking to each other.

 

Contact is restored.

 

GM: Cephas relays everything, bringing everyone up to speed.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Reynard blew out another long breath as the various channels came alive. The assault had already started, but at least they had made contact in enough time that it did not have to go ahead hampered by unreliable comms.

 

Hang on, was that bloody Lucian Greyson's voice on that channel? What was the damn merc doing here, and fighting for the loyalists?

Not a priority right now, Reynard forced himself to remember. But there was still another job he did need to handle. A mistake that needed to be put right. He looked over at Cutter again.

 

"If we couldn't get the antidote for Gwynne down here, and we can't take her up there, we need someone to go get it from Galleus and bring it back. Can someone use the Valkyrie? Any idea where is it now?"

 

He frowned.

 

"Didn't that Breacher, Solomon, take Bardas somewhere in it? Can we get hold of him?"

 

[Machine God]

The Precinct:

 

Kerr Restal

 

New allies came to bear.

 

The plan was to climb to the third Bastion whilst heavy hitters provided a distraction that drew the eye of the Golem away.

 

"Cephas and Restal on the Ocean. Separate tasks for the mission. Good hunting!"

 

Voxes chimed and meshed. The data was absorbed by the augur prosecutor.

 

 

In the midst of the assault he achieved his silence, the ghost assault a gestalt moment of being carried him forward. Carnodon out and and running, yet silent whilst he provided overwatch at whatever little piece of cover he chose.

 

 

 

 

AGL 35 +0 (Silent Move) = 35. Result: 35, Pass

 

 

 

 

Edited June 4, 2023 by Machine God
Tidy up

[Trokair]

Bardas

Spoiler

Radiation check

D100: 57 – High Radiation 

Toughness Test

T:43

D100: 48, Fail, 0 DoF

 

Taking a moment to rest after the flight down the stairs Bardas glanced down the other paths at the intersection, ahead where more stairs, tempting but obvious.  The control centre on the other had been in need of a visit since the initial briefing, he still had the supposed readout on a dataslate, comparing it to the raw feed might provide some more answers.

 

Heading leftwards Bardas retrived the Anti-Rad from the depth of his pockets and used the dose, he fully anticipated this getting worse.  

[A.T.]

Falk

 

Mixed feelings washed over Falk as he ran towards the vent, outflanking a gamble that might lead to certain death yet at the same time those who continued on to bastion three were to feed themselves willingly into the meatgrinder of the golems strongest forces that this gamble might be possible at all.

 

It was not a good plan even if they were to reach Gwynne, no time to plot a clean extraction, no choice but to improvise. The lascutter he had secured banged against his hip as he climbed into the venting as a dozen plans ran through his head each less probable that the last...

 

Focus on the task at hand, the vents were unmarked and snaking to disrupt an entry such as they were attempting and the route plotted into the cartograph could not be deviated from no matter the opposition encountered.

[Lord_Ikka]

Nicios

 

Nicios moved behind Falk, following the heavier Arbiter's footsteps. He kept his head down, and began to chant protective mantras in his head. 

Spoiler

 

Manifest Psychic Power (Resist Possession)

Threshold - 6

Roll - 10 + 5(WPB) + 1 (Power Well) = 16

Result - May re-roll any failed Tests to resist Possession in the next hour

 

Whether their foe was capable of Warp-shenanigans or not, Nicios would be prepared.

 

Edited June 5, 2023 by Lord_Ikka

[Necronaut]

Scourge:

 

With a wry grin hidden under his sallet, Scourge hopped down from the vehicle with a thud and quickly advanced to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the power armoured giant. To wage war beside one of the God-Emperor's Angels! His breast swelled with pride as he racked his bolter's charging lever. 

 

"Fare thee well, friends. God-Emperor protect thee," he muttered as a half-prayer lost in the din of battle for the rest of the acolytes, and raised his boltgun to a firing position. He turned to look at the towering Battle-Brother next to him and roared over the gunfire, "'Tis a good day to die, Frater Cephas! Let us honour thy Blessed Grandsire with the blood of these abominations! Until the end!"

 

He snapped off a smartly controlled burst of quarrels into the seething horde of crimson-robed fiends and breathed in the satisfying stench of fyceline. His smile widened and a maniacal light filled his eyes.

 

BURN THE HERETIC!!

 

OOC: I'll need a little direction here, but I presume there's a sizeable horde(?) of murder-servitors in front of the precinct I need to help render into scrap metal and mulch as the first order of business. 

 

Full Action: Semi Auto Burst

SAB: 36 (BS) + 10 (SAB) + ??? 

Semi-auto Burst: 1d100 21: success; 2+ DoS, depending on size of horde(?)

 

Damage: 1d10+5X, Pen 4

Hit 1: Bolter Damage: 2#1d10 7 4

Damage 1: 4 7 + 5 = 12X damage, Pen 4

Hit 2: Bolter Damage: 2#1d10 8 6

Damage 2: 6 8 + 5 = 13X damage, Pen 4

Hit 3+ (explosive damage?): ??? 

 

2 bolt

rounds expended (22/24)

[Mazer Rackham]

The GUTS:

 

Bardas:

 

The utility transit system is merely a utilitarian name for a riot of tunnels and crosswalks which span gaps in the foundation superstructure. Still, despite being a dim, irradiated hellhole full of delipidated transoms and hastily abandoned equipment, the going is smooth.

 

The containment warnings continue, however, as you may your way toward thermal pile control. Reaching a corner, you can see just past it that there are broken figures, three to be exact, toppled on top of one another. Sporting standard mechanicum armour and accoutrements, the battle that felled these untainted warriors of the cog appears to have been recent.

 

The Precinct:

 

Cephas offers no response as the zealot beside him starts blasting, other than to angle his own fire to maximise the support given. His bolter spits another torrent of death, but whilst his aim, and yours, Scourge, are true, and break apart the monstrosities, even more seem to take their place, and despite covering fire from the vehicles, and the heady doses of lead the Arbites and Canthus Mercenaries are giving, there seems to be no immediate let up in the teeming numbers, and indeed, risk pushing the cordon of black and gold back into the vehicles.

 

The vents broken open, no-one pays any heed to the other running Cell-comrades. Maybe the enemy deems them a pointless distraction, perhaps the number of foes vanishing into a shaft is of no importance in the calculus of the siege.

 

Whichever it is, the party of Falk, Restal and Nicios is unmolested as they break into the winding tunnels which will offer some veiled security.

 

Out of the corner of your eyes, the figures of the Xenos Kill Team, Two-Zero rush towards another secure annex. Not deserting the fight altogether, they use fire-and-manoeuvre in a right peel, to apply grenades and autogun carbine slugs to the red tide spilling from vents, accessways and doors.

 

Yet they continue moving away from the core deployment.

 

The Hangar:

 

Reynard:

 

Cutter turns to you, half-trying to bandage his head and answer a summons on the augur suite. His hardwired companion blurbs.

 

"Tight beam IFF. A vessel is on approach, will be withing LIDAR repeat in about five minutes. He's way out, whoever it is, atmospheric distortion on the tight beam. Hmm."

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

Seeing Cutter struggle, Reynard moved over and helped him tie the bandage around his head.

 

"Coming back in? From Galleus' ship…?" he mused aloud. Had to be, there wasn't anything else out that far?

 

"Maybe Locke already sent someone out to get the antidote from her? But why wouldn't he have told us that?"

 

Odd… but perhaps just as well, given how things had gone with De Grassi. Exitus something-or-other, as they seemed to be so fond of saying.

 

Now they could only wait and see how the battle below turned out.

[A.T.]

Falk

 

Just three, the xenos mercenaries not offered to join this expedition and he was unsure that he would have accepted them... but then such mistrust would do them little good if they reached Gwynne only to find that the bulk of the golems forces still besieged her.

 

The echoing gunfire would obscure the sound of their passage for a time, after that it was a race with the unmapped maze of tunnels their best defense against any who would seek them out. But it was no escape route.

 

The first security grate came up quickly and he signalled overwatch as he reached for the lascutter. A simple code would have opened it, but would have also alerted the golem to exactly where they were.

[Mazer Rackham]

The Ducts:

 

Falk:

 

The lascutter illuminates grimy passages, common to any Imperial construction. As it sears through the grate, and sound is lost in the almighty battle outside, the howl of bolts, the screams of maniacs, and the stolid, barked orders of the law being laid down in judicial prosecution.

 

No alarms sound, no welcome committee awaits. Just dark tunnels of steel, stains, and grime from a century's worth of microscale aggregate.

[Trokair]

Bardas

 

Radiation check                                                                                                                       

D100: 11 – Low Radiation

 

While Bardas had been as careful as he could as he moved long the myriad of passageways he had moved with hast, not willing to linger in irradiated areas any longer than necessary. So far he had seen no sign of pursuit, or anybody else for that matter. The sight of the bodies however gave him reason to pause. Blundering into the golems forces would be unhealthy.

 

Spoiler

Awareness Test                    

Per: 34 + 20 (Auspex) = 54

D100: 42, Pass 1 DoS, Assuming no danger continue

 

A carful study of the surrounding had not revealed any active danger, whatever slew the guards was not immediately in evidence, and the auspex hand not revealed anything either, though with hte radiation only the Omnissiah knew how patchy its reading truly were.

 

Creeping forward, Saxa at the ready, Bardas knelt by the fallen. Now that he was closer he could tell a bit more. The congealing blood and oil mix had pooled beneath the bodies, but had not yet begun to cover a dust film. A few hours perhaps. Whatever had taken them had been quick, two had slash and tear marks inflicted at close quarters, another Sicarian? It would certainly have been fast enough to close the distance once it had been spotted. Whatever the attacker had been one of the guards had at least opened fire judging from where it lay, and been felled in kind.

 

Spoiler

Search Test I presume for anything else that might be of import or use

Per: 34 /2 (Basic Half Stat) = 17

D100: 47, Fail, 3  Dos

 

[Mazer Rackham]

The GUTS:

 

Bardas:

 

The Auspex rings true, pushing with mechanical efficiency through the Shroud of Geiger. Nothing disturbs the hazardous darkness, and the dead beneath your palms tell no tales of their demise, give no succour or clue to aid your worried, electrogrammic soul.

 

The Thermal Pile control room beckons, and indeed, the symbols on the wall indicate it is nearby...

[Trokair]

Bardas

 

Radiation check                                                                                                                       

D100: 20 – Low Radiation

 

Not wishing to linger longer than needed Bardas advanced once more. The control room entrance was nothing of note from this side, just another bulkhead door, ajar. A superficial layer of rust had crawled over the other side. Stepping through he could see that this was secondary access way, probably sealed and forgotten ever since whatever calamity had irradiated the GUTS.

 

But that could not be right, could it, for if it had been sealed why had the untainted patrolled in the corridors he had just traversed.  As so much where the Golem and its ilk was conserved answers where a rarity, and even then unlike to be sane.

 

Instead he set about searching for a cogitator access point, that might tell him more as to the state of the Thermal Pile and the reactors that drove it. He had the dataslate with the old data, and while it was an area he knew little about maybe a comparison would flag any adverse changes.

[Machine God]

The Ducts:

 

Kerr Restal

 

Progress thus far was good. Falk opened the grate with his las-cutter whilst he had provided overwatch, no doubt Nicios was doing the same on other frequencies. The cell worked well together.

 

Steadily they progressed forwards, the tunnel system spiralled upwards through ancient aggregate encrusted conduits and ancient cable trunks. The very same ways that he'd used previously to get about the precinct.

 

Covering each others arcs, advance, cover, search, cover, advance. Slow and steady focussed movement.

 

He sought to keep the thoughts in his mind to focus on the matter at hand. Keep his imagination at bay...

 

 

The shadows could hide a multitude of traps, servitor sentries, power cabling snaked abouts hiding mechandrite whips

 

 

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

GM: Since Bardas has tested for Rads at this location, and they're low, another test will not be required here. Venturing to another location, however, will. I'm also going to move on Solomon and Reynard. BTW, you can all talk to each other now, the Voivode and Cephas' relays are quite powerful, and you can assume secure. For now.

 

The GUTS:

 

Bardas:

 

The room is not quite in a shambles, several dataports and cogitator terminals have been broken open at the rear. The only reason to do this would be to jury-rig an unorthodox bypass. Indeed, several jack-latches are wired into the central control hub cogitator, which buzzes quietly on standby. These small power diverting bridges are marked with standard Mechanicum Clade numbers. Looking around the room, you can several intellicams in various states of repair. Catching sight of the one covering the control console, it turns away almost too quickly, to pan the rest of its arc, before sauntering back to face you, and moving on, swinging sedately from one side to the other.

 

GM: Accessing the control terminal will require a Challenging (+0) Tech Use Test. Once this is complete, you will have access to Level One Functions (doors, picters, local comms. Level Two Functions (Thermocouple control, interlink lockout, etc) will require a further Difficult (-10) Tech Use Test.

 

Failure of the Test will allow for repeat tests. Failure by 4 or more DoF will lock you out, and you will have to use the Bypass, which will inflict a further Difficulty Modifier of (-10) to your Access tests.

 

The Hangar:

 

Reynard:

 

"Cheers," Cutter remarks as you help him. As to the other questions he stares at the readouts, and shrugs. "Can't get the turrets on them, our parking is a little...wonky."

 

A sulky blurp from the hardwired co-pilot underlines the situation.

 

Looks like you're going to have to find out the hard way.

 

A surface-to-orbit shuttle comes in, piloted with exacting care. It enters the hanger without warning, and just as brutally, drops to the deck onto the landing struts with a resounding clunk. It doesn't bounce. All is done with efficacy, and nothing too flash. The doors, facing away from you, remain closed. No doubt this is for pressurisation, or even internal decon process. By the book, blunt.

 

The broad, twin-seat cockpit glass is gilded with reflective coating, preventing you from seeing inside, especially from your oblique angle in the Voivode.

 

Edited June 11, 2023 by Mazer Rackham
Grammatical Clarity and Tidy Up

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

+Solomon, is that you? Where have you been?+

 

[Mazer Rackham]

The Hangar:

 

Reynard:

 

The shuttle opens, and the blunt, blazing-eyed visor of the Breacher slips into view, weapon drawn and ready. He steps towards the Voivode, alert, scanning.

 

+Away. What happened?+ he asks, brusque as ever.

 

GM: Don't need chapter and verse on it, just opened up for response.

[Trokair]

Bardas

 

While he had passed two terminal stations that looked sufficiently unharmed to have been of use all they had had were cable connection ports, and from his recent experience Bardas was not willing to link so directly with anything the Silica Animus might have touched. Instead his goal was a manual terminal, with keys and screen, normally reserved for uninitiated operators, but in this case far safer.  

 

Having found one he got to work, keys clunking under his fingers, the hum of the green tinged screen springing to life. This had been a monitoring station, designed for observation of the blessed processes at the heart of the reactor stack, but a way to the command lines would be somewhere in the code, there always was.

Spoiler

Tech Test

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

D100: 76, Fail 3 DoF

 

The screen flickered, shaded blocks begun to fall in sequence, and for a moment the only controls that responded moved the falling blocks left and right and rotate the non symmetrical ones. At the bottom of the screen they accumulated into a solid mass, frozen solid where the shaded blocks had connected.

 

Bardas blinked in confusion, someone had been playing the ancient ritual of Tet’is to appease the cogitator for this terminal.  While there ways to dismiss the ritual it was probably better to complete the ritual to the machine spirits satisfaction. Hoping that it would be easily mollify the spirit Bardas begun to try and salvage the mess that had accumulated as the rain of blocks continued.   

 

Spoiler

Tech Use retry

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

D100: 28, Pass 2 DoS

 

The spirit appeased he navigated back to the command functions that had opened up. As the security system had been running his first priority was to isolate it, and if possible feed to whatever external power it was reporting a substitute devoid of him or his presence.

 

Next he started looking for any archive that might be in the local cluster of cogitators, if he could review the security feed for the past day or so it might give him more of a clue as to what has happened here.

 

 

OOC, pausing here in case there is any security camera footage for Bardas to discover, or any further requirements for the hoodwinking of any outgoing feeds.

[Mazer Rackham]

Thermal Control:

 

Bardas:

 

The archives appear under a sub-heading, footage from the last 134,065.60 hours.

 

Most of the files are similar size, indicating no real change to normal function. The first file is huge, and carries metadata marked !Evac_01//init! Then tiny files, up until about an hour ago.

 

The feeds are from each picter, identifiable by the corresponding numeral on the wall, next to the surveillance intellicams. Only the one marked COM, is not represented in the terminal, and that is the one overlooking the cogitator. It perhaps is controlled by, and feeds to, a datastack elsewhere. The hum of cogitators and cooling fans gently spinning in their lazy extrusion of the warmth inside the room, are your only company.

 

Bar the 'carefully' swivelling camera, that always seems to be turning away from you when you look at it.

 

Edited June 11, 2023 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

+All ing hell broke loose.+

 

Reynard quickly outlined what had taken place since the last time the cell had all been together.

 

+So, we've been trying to get Gwynne off-planet.+ he finished. +I was wondering if we could transfer her to the Valkyrie and take her to the antidote… unless you know something I don't? Cutter said you were coming back in from way out?+

 

 

Edited June 11, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

The Hangar:

 

Reynard:

 

+Cutter is mistaken. Open up, I brought a take-away.+

 

Solomon just stands there, giving nothing away.

[Lysimachus]

Reynard:

 

+Ok, opening now.+

 

Reynard hurried around to the hatch and pressed the release. Then he stepped back from the portal, weapons held ready, just in case the Golem had sneaked any more of its minions into the hangar.