[BC] The Blackest Heart (IC)

[Mazer Rackham]

Xerxes:

 

The Servitors immediately respond to your command, ignoring the imminent threat of the murder-vandal Space Marines. One of the Servitors, appearing a little better equipped and boasting superior augmetics trundles forwards on magnetic treads, each cleat making a tunk-tink as it meets and leaves the plated surface. The others respond intimately to every move and twitch of an array of augurs built into the half-skull face and some manner of sensor array. In Mechanicum parlance this...creature would be known as a Clademaster, a locus of biharic logic and interface.

 

Better than it's fellows, but still a lower rank of mechanical serf, with limited independent operation.

 

+Codify: Radiological Malignancy. Codify: Particulate Malignancy. Codify: Pathogen Malignancy: NOT PRESENT.+

 

As you predict, even this Clademaster seems confused to your interrogative.

 

+Order #106104. Active since 0300 Sixtus-Gamma-Karmon. Contamination Purgatus within two, point, zero, nine.+

 

It rolls forward and brandishes a projection nozzle.

 

+Identify group. Deliver loyalty phrase.+

 

The Master's voice changes slightly. In a human it would be considered a raised eyebrow - except there is no musculature under the sloughing half-face to hold such a feature. The unaugmented among the group would never discern such a thing, but to a machine-cultist, the inflection is there. Indeed, Ephialties twitches at it.

 

Edited Thursday at 11:19 PM by Mazer Rackham

[A.T.]

Xerxes:

 

A suitable response. It would have to be hoped that at least one behind him had not lost all patience as he spoke to them, "the code phase of an Astartes should overrule such mundane rituals."

 

 

(context question - loyalty phase = password or simply a counter-phrase?)

[Mazer Rackham]

Xerxes:

 

GM: You get the distinct impression the Clademaster is seeking a password. Further, you can determine from your internal chronometer the Clademaster's orders were given some time ago.

 

Edited Friday at 02:13 AM by Mazer Rackham

[Machine God]

Kraggan:

 

He could see Two-Backs talking with the head servitor, One of Six presumably. It was waiting on a passcode that they should know as members of the Pirates. 

 

Kraggan walked and used his Magos voice. He always found it useful when addressing the bound lesser constructs to use an older language. 

 

"Attend!" He commanded the servitor "Regardez" his mannerisms enthralling the servitor, which moved obediently to him as he brought his device of office up to bear. 

 

Holding up his Fallen Magos Power Axe, he began "The violins begin to play. I Magos Kraggan will empart to you the passcode, but it has been upgraded to a higher level and can only be imparted via communion Clademaster!"

 

Leaning in as if to whisper conspiratorially in an ear "My heart beats with monotonous langour."

 

Mechadendrites snaked out of his axe and thrust into data ports of the Clademaster, imparting override codes of his making as he sought to take control of the Clade and bend it to his will. 

 

 

INT49 +10 (Tech Use +10) +10 (Combi-Tool) -30 (Very Hard) = 39. Result: 13, Pass 2DoS[/spoiler

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited Friday at 04:35 PM by Machine God
I need gaps between Post and Edit Reason.

[Mazer Rackham]

Kraggan:

 

+Override accepted. Directives?+

[Machine God]

Kraggan:

 

+Override accepted. Directives?+

 

Kraggan transferred files and codes.

 

"Clade - Decontamination complete thank you for a good job."

 

"Directives:

 

#1 - Carry on contamination protocols on all arrivals as standard.

 

#2 - Inform me of all new arrivals on our <Microbead Frequency>

 

We will now proceed!"

 

 

 

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Kraggan:

 

The Clademaster makes an acknowledgement beep, and with his unspoken command, the servitors retreat to thier alloted readiness stations and fall into recumbent, slumped postures, awaiting the next visitors.

 

The room is now secure for further investigation. There is a data pedastal adjacent to the pressure doors which lead further into the complex. The heavy blast doors remain undisturbed, but their operation control panel is now lit for use.

[Necronaut]

Ukalegon

 

Ukalegon slouched slightly, mildly disappointed his mounting bloodlust would not be sated so easily, but the tech-priest had done well to override the servitor crew’s command directives. Better a more discrete insertion for this sort of operation, especially if they were likely written off as dead.

 

He holstered his weapons and took a few moments to scrape away the mucranoid secretions that had enveloped his eyes before disengaging the seals of his rebreather mask which he removed and clipped to his belt. He then retrieved the newly acquired black Corvus pattern helm from his kit and peered inside, studying its mechanisms and size adjustment toggles before sliding it over his head. As his armour’s hybrid machine spirit started incorporating the new piece into itself, diagnostic rituals played out in the red-tinged HUD which flashed to life before his eyes. He noticed the badge of the Red Corsairs as it passed by in his peripheral vision, though the sigil was momentarily replaced by some other chapter device he didn't recognize – a grasping talon of some sort – but as soon as he looked it was gone again. Perhaps a figment of his imagination or an older version of the machine spirit attempting to reassert itself? It was difficult to say. Best not to dwell upon the mysteries of the Machine Cult.

 

Satisfied, he armed himself again, and turning to regard Hagga through red-tinted lenses inquired, +Now what? Do we knock?+

Edited Friday at 07:17 PM by Necronaut

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

When he was sure the servitors had stood down, Hagga took a moment to doff his helm. From one of his pouches he pulled the microbead taken from a fallen Corsair and carefully fixed the comms device into his ear. It wasn't remotely as good as repairing the inbuilt vox-link that his MkVI helm had originally mounted, but for now it would do. He replaced the beaked wargear and looked to Ukalegon, whose appearance now mirrored his own. He let out a bark of rough laughter.

 

“Ha! I'm sure they'll be eager to welcome us in!”

 

He turned to look at Xerxes and Kraggan.

 

“A fine job, Adepts, you have my thanks. A few more tasks for you, and then I suspect it will be the turn of the fighters.”

 

He pointed at the data-terminal.

 

“See if you can exload a map of this station, plot us a route to their hangar bay. Then open that door."

 

Hagga raised his voice slightly to address the entire team.

 

"I cannot believe that we can be so lucky to advance much further without being discovered, so make sure you are all ready for combat."

 

 

Edited Friday at 08:29 PM by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

GM OOC: As to the maps, I will be more specific when we get to areas of interest, such as fighting, large chambers, or objectives.

 

GM: Unlike the Standing Orders proposed by the Clademaster, this map is indexed in Imperial format and shows it over three years old.

 

The map ignites onto the hololithic projection dais of the pedestal, showing the height and breadth of the massive asteroid. Several areas are indexed as of interest - the Central Command Chamber, the Communications Centre, and the antechambers for the launch bays. Further, it identifies the 'brig' at the heart of the asteroid.

 

The map connects all these hollows with thin, snaking tunnels. Many of the tunnels are heavily branched, and several of these exploratory 'saps' terminate abruptly no doubt where the promised (or augured) materials extinguished.

 

Attached are several auto-exloading datapackets; codicils for navigation and exploration. In these files, are reports and advisory notices regarding pitfalls, promising marking seams of ore lodes. and cautionary indicators that many augur or auspex scans have proven false or repeated ghost returns. The mineral ores are laced with crystalline pockets and varying densities of raw minerals which have only been cursorily inspected by the Shift Foreman and Analyst.

 

It is safe to say that some of the passages are unstable.

 

GM: I won't be providing a map as it's just not feasible. However, handling this narratively, the possession of the map now provides either:

• +10 to any Navigate Tests, OR; 1 Re-roll of a Failed Navigation Test; Whilst within the asteroid as you move about.

For this segment of the adventure, I will allow you to split into groups. You must nominate one (1) person from your group as the 'Scout'. Every time your group moves (i.e. once per post, per group) you must make an Encounter Roll by rolling and posting the results of a 1D100, which I will match to a set of circumstances I hold. Your group will need to nominate an 'Objective' as per the Compact Thread before play resumes.

 

For simplicity, you will require Six (6) Successful Navigation Tests to reach your Objectives, which will, of course provoke Six (6) Encounter Rolls - unless I say otherwise.

 

GM: Shouting and screaming in the OOC as per usual.

[Mazer Rackham]

Cyrandras Rakash:

 

As the team debate the best way to proceed, and begins the task of preparing navigation equipment, something prickes at your senses.

 

GM: Please make a Challenging (+0) Psyniscience Test.

[Xin Ceithan]

Cyrandras

 

( Challenging (+0) Psyniscience (PER 40) : 38 Pass)

[Mazer Rackham]

Cyrandras ONLY:

 

Spoiler

There is a lingering...whisper here. You can discern, just at the edges of your mind, fingertips, pressing against glass, looking into the bowl of your metaphysical projection. It is not the touch of the Warp, for this, whilst unpleasant, is familiar to you.

 

No, the gentle presses, the delicate, deft contact is repulsive.

 

It is old, immeasurably so, and beyond any language other than it's own. The pollution of it's presence is thankfully thinned by the mass of rock around you, but it still crawls through it in red veins of hatred. It is, thankfully distant, and no immediate danger is presented - but the hours ahead of you do not promise that comfort...

 

[A.T.]

Xerxes:

 

Motioning to the voidsuits against the wall, "it is likely we could pass as a repair team from a distance, at least in the outer areas of this facility."

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Infiltration? A workable strategy, especially for the mortal specialists. Not right for Astartes warriors, not when there was fighting to be done and military targets to be crushed. He nodded to Xerxes.

 

“That seems wise. We have several objectives that are more suited to a subtle hand. I suggest that you four choose one of them and pursue it. However, the Astartes were not made for subtlety. We will continue towards the Landing Bay.”

 

Hagga turned to Ukalegon and Cyrandras, searching for any indication of disagreement or dissent but finding none. Good. They needed to get moving. Satisfied, the Executioner strode towards the pressure door and its control lectern. There did not appear to be any security measures to prevent access, instead a simple set of large buttons displaying icons that indicated ‘open’ or ‘closed’ positions. He looked back at the mortals.

 

“I wish you all good fortune, and the blessings of whatever gods you favour.”

 

He reached down and pressed the ‘open’ icon.

 

Edited Saturday at 11:09 PM by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

The Clean Room:

 

As Hagga triggers the lock, the pressure doors judder as though stuck, before tearing free to grind steadily open. A clatter of panels, flakboard and wooden planks all accompany this in a shower of tumbling debris. The doors continue inexorably, ignoring this impromptu clarion, presenting you with a good view of the roughly hewn chamber without the clean room.

 

It is scorched, melted, glassed smooth and pocked by weapons fire, acid, flame or warp-only knows what. Polished volcanic glass and crystal shards have the squeaky, 'ping' cleanliness that a surgeon would be proud of. Parts of servitors matching the ones inside the clean room are scattered about, showing gunfre from slugthrowers or molten spalling from lasbeams. The damage to the interior of the asteroid has been caused by something inside the room you are leaving, given the trajectories and resulting splash damage.

 

The outside edges of the blast/pressure doors are uneven, covered in heavy welds. The spilled rubble and boards appear to have been some form of barricade - indeed, on one of the planks is written something in a loacl dialect which is unknown to you, but requires no hard work to translate, as there is a matching, albeit broken and faded large square of fibre-board which reports:

 

K E # P   O # T!

 

Just in case the person approaching couldn't read, it's accompanied by a skull with a very good resemblance to an angry Opus Mechanicum, along with several other strange glyphs.

 

Leading away from the clean room are four tunnel mouths. From Left to Right, Each are actually marked in Gothic, with original, if rusted signage, or crudely carved letters and numerals (likely done with a lasdrill):

 

(1)LB - (2)B - (3)GR - (3A)WP

 

There are no enemies loitering, nor do the mechanical companions inside stir.

 

GM: Pick your poison gentlemen (Marines already have, kinda) and make your first Navigation Rolls, followed by your Encounter Rolls.

 

Edited Sunday at 12:47 AM by Mazer Rackham

[Trokair]

Placeholder

Copy Map

Take up suggestion of disguise

Form into team, presume order is Tarh (scout) Kraggan Xerxes and Cruxas bringing up the rear.

Head out towards communication suite?

 

Spoiler

First rolls in case needed now:

Navigate Surface

Int: 45 

D100: 47 So depend if one of the others can Assist as we are all still  together in airlock 

Encounter roll D100: 15

 

Also doing a stealth, figure Tarh tries and stealthy scout forward, then signal others that way is clear, so might also make sense to have microbead if there is still one avilable

Stealth, Ag: 42

D100: 33, Pass, 1DoS

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Tarh:

 

Your Scouting experience stands you in good stead when you trace the map from the Comms centre position, taking tunnel 3. It branches a lot, but you are certain this is the correct one. As you progress forward solo of the group, you find part of the tunnel has collapsed, probably a long time ago, as dust has well settled. However, you discover that you are able to get past it if in single file, or if your bulky comrades move a few rocks. The bulkhead lamps in this tunnel are functional, providing a wan light to navigate by.

 

Bonus: +10 to next Navigation Test.

 

GM: Note that your comrades need to have the Navigate (Surface) skill to be able to assist you.

[Machine God]

Kraggan:

 

"it is likely we could pass as a repair team from a distance, at least in the outer areas of this facility" stated Two-Backs.

 

"Indeed a fine idea" replied Kraggan who headed for the new void-suits. He began stripping out colour panels to add to his void-suit.

 

 

 

 

INT49 +10 (Tech Use +10) +10 (Combi-Tool) = 69. Result: 12, Pass 5DoS

 

 

 

 

He recalibrated three micro-beads to the squad frequency, that he found within the void-suits and handed them to Two-Backs, Teeth and Tarh.

 

"We can communicate together now. There's a lot of rock and iron in this Berg, we will lose the Marines presently. We should locate the Communication Hub."

 

 

Hagga opened the door to the carnage.

 

 

 

 

Edited Sunday at 01:07 PM by Machine God
Typo

[Xin Ceithan]

Cyrandras

 

Placeholder

assesses in loaded map / compares with experience on void warfare to determine route and offering directions

 

Spoiler

 

 

Quote selection

Navigate Surface

Int: 45 

D100:  34 - Pass

 

 

Encounter roll D100: 2 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Cyrandras:

 

Lured by a handful of false turns, your void training does you credit, ever trusting to the grip of gravity on a warship - this flying rock is no different - you have skirted around the sphere of the generator's envelope. You come across the scene of a small tragedy, three corpses in their mining, void-hardened, worksuits. They appear to have drawn weapons on each other, ramshackle slugthrowers and bladed cudgels. From how the bodies are staggered, you get the strong impression it was two against one, and all three lost.

 

Onwards and upwards, where the tunnel leads.

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Hagga followed Cyrandras past the fallen bodies. Filthy renegades. An ambush or assassination, perhaps? If so, the Executioner had to give respect to the lone victim for taking both his assailants down with him.

 

From different factions? Galea had spoken of ‘gangs’ among the station population, maybe this was the evidence that proved her words? He wondered if there was any way they could use such divisions to speed their conquest?

 

Hagga said as much aloud, but there was little time to consider the idea properly. Onwards.

 

 

[Necronaut]

Ukalegon

 

Ukalegon nodded sagely at Hagga’s observation that they might turn the likely tenuous confederacy of pirate factions against one another, had they the time and resources but he replied, +Our sudden arrival and assault upon the station may have a similar effect, regardless. Paranoia and mutually assured destruction are often what hold these renegades together at the best of times. The command structure will either coalesce around the strongest leader or they will turn upon each other, suspecting treachery.+

 

It was a relief to have a helm again, and the auto-senses contained in this Mk VI model had been well-maintained by its previous owner. It was a pleasure to hear the near silent but still comforting whirs and clicks of the targeting systems and adjustable lenses as they latched onto different potential targets around him. He felt closer to whole for the first time in days. Not that he had minded the rebreather mask once he had become accustomed to it, feeling that it had given him a somewhat more fearsome appearance in front of the mortal crew and other corsairs under Iorek’s command, but an exposed head in a firefight was just begging for trouble. Discretion was ever the better part of valour.

 

He followed behind Hagga and Cyrandras, bringing up the rear-guard to the hulking trio of mis-matched corsairs. He had to trust in the psyker’s reconnoitering and navigating abilities, and he offered softly spoken advice periodically as they wended their way through the byzantine network of tunnels and saps toward the hangar bay. As much as he enjoyed Hagga’s company as a fellow former Maelstrom Warder, he lamented the loss of his brothers, missing his blood brother Arcturion dearly. His hearts sank at the thought of the golden and chequered host, and of the burning hulk of the Daughter of Tempests twisting in the void, the last thing he saw of his chapter before being rescued and resurrected by Lord Blackheart.

 

This dark compliance was no homecoming, no return to form. He growled at himself and his sentimentality, knowing full well with whom he had thrown in his lot. The die had been cast; he was one of the lost and damned.

Edited 23 hours ago by Necronaut

[Mazer Rackham]

The Muder Hole (Marines):

 

Passing by the corspes, what Hagga thinks aloud seems to be accurate. One of the bodies carries only the rank and work awards of his miner's uniform. The others who faced him are wearing some manner of armband. It is not a formal thing, just a purple scarf around the left bicep. It is thier only difference.

 

GM (All): Scouts may make thier next rolls when they wish.

[Xin Ceithan]

Cyrandras

 

“Good point“

 

Rakash paused, nodding. Rivalries and even in fighting were not uncommon among different or competing factions, especially in lower holds of even the best kept ships of the Imperial Navy. He wasn’t thus too much surprised to find it on a rock full of cutthroats and renegades. Maybe this could indeed be turned to their advantage…

 

He looked at the slain for a moment, a quick search  for clues, maybe a hint of what their aspirations or grievances might have been. 
 

A thought occurred to him as he recalled the … otherness… he’d felt earlier. The Sorcerer bent down to take a closer look…

 

GM:

 

Spoiler

Cyrandras is looking for anything of obvious deviation … cult symbols, runes, mutation.. the works

( OOC I have no idea how aware the Maelstrom Wardens - or the Corsairs - were 

Of something that might give away more or less latent Genestealer infections, but if Cyrandras has anything along the line, that’s what his searching for outside the obvious warp cult stuff here. 
 

Feel free to do hidden PER test including Psynisciee rolls here please