[BC] The Blackest Heart (IC)

[Trokair]

Tarh

 

Having finished tending as best he could to the many lived, Tarh could not work out if the Chosen was blessed or cursed, he looked over to Hagga and the Priest.

 

“Either of you need patching as well?” Seeing Hgga’s reluctant nod Tarh moved over.

 

Spoiler

First Aid Medicae Test

Int: 45 +20 (Medikit) +10 (Assist from Ephialtes?) = 65 or 75

D100: 88, Fail, 3 or 4 DoF

Upps!

 

The newcomer mentioned an autocannon nest, Tarh ears picked up, if they were going to face more Utukku, whether of the Immaterium or of Xenos origin, heavy weapon would be welcome. His long-las was not up to the task, but a autocannon might do. With a suitable crafted rig he reckoned Mithra could easily carry it as a mobile gun platform.

[Machine God]

Kraggan:

 

"Caleb? You are the lady on the Vox right! Sorry about that. You run out of ammo?" 

 

 

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Krokodil 4:

 

Seryna nods, eyes narrowing. 'Not for this one, I haven't.'

 

She subtly moves to readiness. It is not an overt thing, but incredible the way a different angle of a foot, a slight drop of the shoulder makes, all done by instinct, the raising of a falcon's wing - so natural and smooth in a professional, long-lived soldier.

 

'Did you hurt him? DId you leave him there dying, as you stood making your speech?'

 

Her voice is calm, quiet. Dangerous.

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Hagga frowned.

 

“None of us have met your Caleb, Seryna. Kraggan's saying sorry for the vox-blast, nothing else. They fought Purples at the Comm Centre, no-one else.”

 

Rykaz looked around the other members of Krokodil 4. There were patrols moving through the station, maybe it was best to minimise the number that went looking for this ‘trunk line’? Maybe best to get Seryna away from Kraggan for a minute, too.

 

“If we can gather more allies… or even just more information… it should aid our attack against that Command Centre. I’ll walk Seryna down to find what she needs to make contact with her friends. It can't be far.”

 

He looked down at the mortal woman.

 

“I’m no Adept, but I can keep you safe while you handle the technical stuff?”

 

Nav Test: Int32 +30(Very Easy) = 62, Roll: 79, 2DoF
Reroll to Nav tests from having our Map: 51, 2DoS

 

 

Spoiler

I'm remembering that right, aren't I? The mortal half of the party fought GSC at the Comm Centre, not anyone else?

 

I'll edit if I've got that wrong...

 

 

 

Edited February 9 by Lysimachus

[Machine God]

Kraggan:

 

 

Seryna nodded, her eyes narrowing. 'Not for this one, I haven't.'

 

She subtly moved to readiness. It iwa not an overt thing, but incredibly the way a different angle of a foot, a slight drop of the shoulder makes, all done by instinct, the raising of a falcon's wing - so natural and smooth in a professional, long-lived soldier.

 

'Did you hurt him? DId you leave him there dying, as you stood making your speech?'

 

Her voice is calm, quiet. Dangerous.

 

 

 

"No the Comms Bunker was empty when we gained entry apart from the stupid antenna holes in the floor and ceiling. If Caleb was here THEY TOOK HIM!"

 

He shouted the last in the hope that the woman would shoot to give him legitimate cause to take her head. There was something weird about her!

 

 

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Hagga:

 

Seryna looks at Kraggan oddly, strokes the exceptionally large and powerful suicide grenade she has strapped to her body, idly.

 

'Yeah, sure, y-you're right. Sorry. You'll be good for hiding behind, Hagga.' She tries to joke, dissemble. 'Alright, let's go. If one of your Techwrights can splice one of these boxes-' she indicates the cogitators '-into conduit VX 442A-1, we'll have our own litttle squawky-talkie.'

 

She lets you lead, trusting to your superior senses and reactions. Perhaps the formidable weapons don't hurt her deference either.

 

GM: This is simple enough work for a Tech. No Tests required. You can put narrative in if you wish.

 

Encounter Roll: Partial FAIL

Picters: FAIL.

 

A small group of Hanged Men come from a corridor, one of them drops something. They laugh and ridicule him and he swears at them, but they branch off. It is quick work to get into the high-gain comms line. With a deft bit of blade-work, Seryna has the cover off, and the wiring out, to start splicing. It takes a couple of minutes.

 

'I'm into the emergency transponder signal,' she whispers, 'they should pick us up. Be a bit grainy.'

 

She closes the hatch, and you're off again, regrouping with the team. Seryna seems far more relaxed for the active busywork.

 

In five minutes the call comes through.

 

+Caleb, is that you? It's Lucas, I've got Marek with me. Hello?+

 

'Lucas, it's Seryna! Listen, I've got no time to explain - I'm going to hand you across to a friend.'

 

She indicates for one of you to speak.

 

Edited February 10 by Mazer Rackham

[Trokair]

Tarh

 

“Catch.” Tarh called out as Hagg was about to leave with the newcomer to find a suitable communication link. A Small single dose package sailed through the air.

 

Spoiler

First Aid Medicae attempt 2

Int: 45 +20 (Medikit) +10 (Assist from Ephialtes?) = 65 or 75

D100: 13, Pass  Heal 4 wounds

 

While they waited for Hagga and Seryna to return Tarh eyed the Priest, after the incident aboard ship he was still vary. However if he was the designated field medic of this little unit he had to check.  

 

“Three for three?”

 

Spoiler

First Aid Medicae for Cyrandras 

Int: 45 +20 (Medikit) +10 (Assist from Ephialtes?) = 65 or 75

D100: 40, Pass, 3 or 4 DoS

Heal 4 wounds if lightly wounded, 1 otherwise

 

[Necronaut]

Ukalegon

 

"My thanks, Tarh Teshub,"  Ukalegon said, rising from where he knelt in front of the Akkadian trooper. His blood was fairly buzzing as the foreign nano-machines carried in his veins had sprung back to life from dormancy, and now worked furiously to knit his tortured flesh. Though the wiry human was an obvious adherent of the ruinous powers and a vile heret– no, he was little better than a heretic himself now. Though the wiry human had his own beliefs, vile as the Lamenter might find them, he had proven himself quite useful and resilient.

 

He straightened and sauntered a distance away, looking out at the entrance to another tunnel network and the death and glory that awaited them beyond.

 

The disappearance of Crux'as troubled him. An abduction? Devoured by one of the aliens? Surely he hadn't turned traitor to the Red Corsairs...

 

+++

 

He knelt a few metres away from the rest in a forward position, shrouded beneath a conveniently located cargo tarpaulin while Seryna tapped into the emergency comms. He followed a group of mutants down the iron sights of his bolter and tracked them until they roamed out of view down another passageway, and he lowered his weapon, resuming his watch with an air of passive boredom.

 

All hell was going to break loose when they breached the command-centre; he felt it in his bones. The mutated xeno-hybrids, whatever they were, were all but guaranteed to fight tooth and nail once battle was joined. He felt tense, and at the same time relieved they were soon to be locked in another life-or-death struggle with the foul humanoids. He was designed, built to kill and kill and kill until he was killed in turn.

 

And if there was anything that needed killing, it was the insidious aliens and their malformed spawn that infested this station.

Edited February 10 by Necronaut

[Lord_Ikka]

The Smiler

 

This was a very, very dangerous situation. A cult of mutants of some sort, hunted by the Imperium, should have been something that the Smiler would welcome with open arms. Yet these mutants were different from those he had met and lead before- the mutations were too uniform, the strange cohesion of movement, the talking of "old flesh" and brood. This was not a cult of the Fate-Maker, the Lord in the Warp of mutation and changer of flesh. Nor was it the Darkling One, the subtle seducer of wills. The stink of xenos and the strange feeling that the aether itself was muted around them lingered.

 

This was something else, something that Crux'as could not twist to his will nor bring to the glory of the Four. He must delay these mutants as much as possible, to allow his fellow Corsair-band to either perform an assault or enough of a diversion that he could escape. It would have to be a large diversion though, the Smiler was no match for the larger beasts or even most of the mutated miners.

 

"As of now, I am in the service of another, the Redfang. It is he who you would need to speak about any sort of arrangement for mutual cooperation. I am sure that, given communications, I could contact him and persuade him."

 

The Smiler took up knife and fork, delicately sliced a morsel from what looked to be a rib on his plate. He chewed gently, the smile slowly growing. 

 

"Not the most enticing of flavours, but certainly robust."

 

If these mutants only knew what I have done and will do to gain power. This petty display of cannibalism is nothing compared to a Slaaneshi frenzy-party or Tzeentch coming-of-change.

Edited February 10 by Lord_Ikka

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Rykaz caught the packet that Tarh tossed over. Ah. He vaguely recognised the name. A stimulant that would kick his body's ability to heal into temporary overdrive. He nodded his thanks, and inserted the ampule into the receiver built into the belt of his armour, which provided access to his bio-injector. As the drug entered his system, he already felt better.

 

The journey to and from the trunk line proved safe enough, though there was a brief moment where he thought a fight might erupt against a small group of miners. Fortunately, they were distracted and after a few minutes Hagga and Seryna were back with the group. When she gestured for someone to reply, he spoke.

 

“I am Hagga Rykaz. I am part of the force that has come to take this station back from the Hanged Men. They are xenos-infected and must be annihilated. We are about to assault the Command Centre and I need any information you can provide about its structure and layout, and what enemies we might face within. If you have any forces in the area, we offer them the opportunity to join us in casting out these filthy invaders.”

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Krokodil 4 (Hagga, but you can all hear it):

 

'Killing these freaks sounds good to me - but the command centre?' Different voice to the first, likely Marek. 'You're off your head nuts, friendo. It'll be swarming with those bastards, big buggers down in the stowage area on the ground floor, auto-turrets on each level, and each brainlet armed with one of those bloody axes.'

 

'Yeah,' Lucas cuts in, 'last time we tried that was with Caleb, and we all nearly got iced. If you're serious about going in, the door on the lower level has a passcode - 23680749. Don't count on it though, they might have changed it.'

 

'Listen, friendo,' Marek comes back, but this time he's excited. 'We're too far away to help you, but...we've got some blasting cable, shotguns and detpacks. Once the Command centre is hit, it will ring every bloody bell on this rock. We could make noise somewhere else too?'

 

Crux'As:

 

Druid renews his interest as you eat, pleasure and satisfaction radiating off him in heavy waves.

 

'Splendid, splendid! We progress. Communications - yes, most important. In fact, my good friend, it is for the very purpose of persuasion we have..."obtained" you?' He chuckles, but it's rather tainted by the slurping of the other diners. He dabs his mouth down with a cloth, and places this napkin aside, propping up his elbows on the table and clasping his hands under his chin.

 

'I must explain a few things to you. My kin-' he glances about the room '-are concerned we have not Blessed you yet.'

 

He taps his throat, shows the strange wound there. In the instant he does, all the others in the room let out a synchronised mumble; 'Blessings of the Great Father-on-Throne.'

 

As you look around, you see they are all showing thier necks, with the wounds.

 

Druid continues. 'We have in our possession, two rather recalcitrant individuals, one who is rather pustulant and rancid - but affable, I'll grant, and a mortal man whom refuses to help us. In fact, he absconded with a brace of our women before they could know the wonder of Matronhood.'

 

A look comes over his face, and his voice drops to something approaching conspiritorial. 'The latter ruffian is some petty administrator, and simply refuses to speak to any of us of the Old Flesh. It is regrettable we cannot bestow the Blessing upon him, but our Great Father knows many things, and withheld his benificence for a good reason. I wish you to come with me...and...persuade this man to divulge his secrets.'

 

'What say you, good man and friend of our flesh?' His eyes are almost - almost - hypnotic.

Edited February 10 by Mazer Rackham

[A.T.]

Xerxes:

 

Xerxes assisted the treatment of the astartes wordlessly as he continued to assess the contents of the store-room. Anything with wheels and bulk might make a suitable bulwark against enemy fire, thermal resistant plates, flakboard, anything that might be used as a shield... but options here were limited.

[Mazer Rackham]

Xerxes:

 

Your quick cast around the room reveals a transit trolley, with four attached casters which look suspiciously rickety, but the trolley itself is sturdy. If you were to pile a few cogitators on the top and second shelf, it could provide a simple bastion, albeit as dangerous to those sheltering behind it.

 

GM: The trolley will take a four cogitator load. It will provide cover of 6 AP, and will shield the two people (or one Marine) required to move it. However, due to the nature of materials used in the cogitators, anyone lingering behind it after it absorbs 18 points of Damage at the end of the Turn will take an additional, automatic hit (+1) from shrapnel (Blast) with the value of the Weapon shooting at you. The 'barricade' is then destroyed.

 

Edited February 10 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

Hagga grinned broadly.

 

+++Aye, we've got a few ‘big buggers’ ourselves. Don't worry, we'll handle these alien freaks. If you can't get to us, fair enough, but…+++

 

He paused thoughtfully.

 

+++...if you can think of a target - something you can hit within the next half hour and then fade away before they come after you, something close enough and of enough value to them that they might divert some troops from here to investigate? - then let us know? You might be able to make our job a little easier.+++

 

Edited February 10 by Lysimachus

[Necronaut]

Ukalegon

 

Ukalegon smirked to himself at the incredulity of the other mortals on the line. As a shock trooper, he was made for these sorts of assaults, and positively revelled in them. If only they knew Astartes of the Red Corsairs had arrived to “liberate" them…

 

+++If your access code fails, we have one of own,+++ Ukalegon snidely chimed in. +++How far is your crew from the command centre? Perhaps have them hit their target one-to-two minutes ahead of us, eh, Hagga, depending on the distance? We should give the rats ample time to scurry away and delay their return…+++

Edited February 10 by Necronaut

[Mazer Rackham]

GM: Since we have set up a 'diversionary attack', Lucas and Marek will be able to neutralise a single, random re-inforcement token.  @Trokair please roll a D6 and post the result, which will correspond to a 'unit' which will then be absent from the following combat.

[Machine God]

Kraggan:

 

He thought on the matter as he worked on trunk cabling and boosted the signal. 

 

"Yes, I see it now Tarh. Crux'as was abducted to weaken us with his absence. His inspiration of verse."

 

He worked also to assist Xerxes. 

 

"It will be a hard fight with small odds of success, but much Glory. Wrong us, shall we not Revenge?" 

 

 

He practiced with his Fallen Magos Power Axe. 

 

"taH pagh

taHbe!" 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Trokair]

Spoiler

As requested, d6: 5  

 

Tarh

 

He was still unsure what to make of Xerxes’ companion. On the one hand he never seemed to speak, but he had seemed capable in his tasks. Before on the lander with the voidsuit, as Tarh had treated the Chosen and even now as Xerxes and Kraggan fabricated, well whatever that was.  No mindless servitor or floating pet skull. Was this a symbiotic relationship between him and Xerxes, or perhaps a curse on one or both of them?

 

“I don’t much care for his verse, to much the firebrand and fervour of a newly devoted, but he has a way with words and people that none of us can wield.”

 

“Would it not be something if in taking him these purple lot fall for his words and join our side?”

Edited February 10 by Trokair
rewording a bit

[Mazer Rackham]

Krokodil 4 (at some point before Initiative):

 

The final, rumbling traces of a detonation play across the vox, you can hear battle being joined. The scraps of men screaming, the pressure hiss of gas and racking shotguns comes down the line.

 

+Lucas here, ambush executed. Caught a handful of the bastards fixing a fuel line, but we're in trouble. Falling <static> to rendez-<static>+

 

There is a shockingly long pause.

 

+Lucas is dead,+ Marek reports, +We're being <static> by some- <static>+

 

There is the near-defeaning sound of a seemingly single, thunderous gunshot, then nothing for several heartbeats, until you can hear the fold and snap of swathing garments, air rushing into the microphone as it is lifted to a mouth.

 

+If you can hear me,+ a distorted voice says, deep, but eloquent despite the buzz-burr of the Hanged Men you are accustomed to, +Your friends died well. I regret our  own meeting will be postponed.+

 

The voxbead snaps off with a certain finality.

 

Edited February 10 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

 

“No better end than in combat, facing down your enemy.”

 

The Executioner placed his closed fist against his breastplate for a moment, honouring the fallen mortals. He nodded respectfully to Seryna, then addressed the team.

 

“They have helped our cause greatly, as well. Whoever that was talking at the end, he's got to be someone high up in the Cult… Did you notice the way he spoke, of himself as an individual? That's no low level drone. Not the Druid, but still someone important. And if he and his followers are over there killing our brave allies, they aren't holding the Command Centre. I say we go in, now.”

 

 

 

Edited February 10 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

GM: Alright folks, looks like we're about to get bloody again, so some further direction and recap.

 

Internal Layout:

• Cogitator Banks/Consoles: 1m high, immobile, enough to block direct charges, AP4 to covered locations. Long enough for Hordes to take cover behind.
• Stowage Crates: 2m high, cannot lift, can push if Unnat Strength Trait, AP 6 to covered locations. Can hide an individual unit no larger than Hulking
• Stowage Cylinders: 3m high, can lift, or push if Unnat Strength (4), AP 6 to covered locations. Can give cover to Hulking or larger.
• 2 x Pressure doors on Level 2
• 1 x Pressure door on Level 1 (Code known)
• Each level is secured internally with a Security Door, you'll have appraise circumvention in situ.
• Each level has a sentry emplacement.

For your next posts narrate your way into position. You may move no closer than Charge range, unopposed. You may close this distance to Full Move Range with an Opposed, Challenging (+0) Stealth Test. Failure by less than 4 DoF merely prevents you getting closer (a sudden patrol, someone going for a leak, a picter swivels towards you, etc). 4+ DoF, and you're spotted.

 

You may nominate one Player to execute a single Narrative Round for Scouting, which will require the Player to undertake an 'Extended' Awareness Test. DoS = benefits. Obviously, this Scouting Round will also require Stealth Rolls to maintain surprise.

 

Initiative order and method of play:

• Provided none of you are spotted, I will allow one Surprise Round.
• If you are splitting up to attack different Levels, I will treat those levels as separate combats for the sake of managing logistics, although you will be able to communicate in real time. Surprise Round will be given to each of the combats, provided you are not Spotted.

GM: Shouting and complaints in the OOC.

[Lord_Ikka]

The Smiler

 

Crux'as looks at Druid, noting his eyes and voice. He lays down the cutlery and speaks.

 

"Of course, I would be honored to assist. Lead on, to this troublesome man."

 

Show me this regular man who can resist your mesmerism, Druid. This may be very useful.

[Mazer Rackham]

Crux'As:

 

The trip is almost companionable, as Druid explains the challenges faced by his people. 'Of course, water is a paramount resource, thankfully we have condensers and there are several ice-floe orbits we can harvest in near orbit.'

 

The stroll along the manually hewn passageway is not unaccompanied, of course. A few Hanged Men follow at a respectful distance, weapons sheathed. Several sleeping quarter doors go by, the sounds of tool-making blending with snoring, mixed with childbirth. One can only wonder what horrors are being spawned.

 

'Ah, here we are.'

 

You come to a guarded, robust door, hinged, made of specifically cut and shaped steel, thicky riveted with bonding studs. The sentry opens it at Druid's nod and the smell of degraded humanity hits you in a waft. Within, the glowglobes illuminate a man pinned to a slab of upright rockrete by ankles and wrists, his modesty preserved only by a scrap of cloth about his hips. Flesh shows some applied torture. Cuts, burns, foreign object insertion into muscle tissue and none of his fingernails are whole.

 

His torso shows thick bands of purple bruising, and his face has taken punishment, a black eye, split lips. There's a good deal of dried blood on him, the slab, and the ground. It all adds to the stale air of the room, an oppressive shroud of misery.

 

His eyes clear from bleariness swiftly, but quickly wander as he realises who stands before him. He can't quite hide his sudden interest in you though - perhaps shock, perhaps revulsion. Who knows?

 

'This is the man. We have quite the quandary with him.' Again, Druid keeps his voice low. 'Great Father has discovered an implant within his brain, a marvel, really. We cannot extract it without killing him, yet any torture cannot be too excessive, or the device begins to heat. One of our Cousins, kin of the warrior who brought you here was instructed not to render the Blessing Kiss, since the Lord Father has discerned a genetic lock within the device, which again may cause catastrophic meltdown.'

 

Druid sighs.

 

'All we want is the Master Control Cipher. Once we have that, we can activate all the mechanisms here fully, and send a signal into the dark that we are ready for the Day of Enlightenment!' He grins. 'Communion, Crux'As, isn't that wonderful? Do talk to him? We do not seek his death, his flesh can still join ours, after all. Perhaps we will be able to present the station to your Redfang as intention of our good faith. Call the guard if you need anything.'

 

He leaves you in the room, and the door is closed firmly behind you, leaving you with the prisoner.

 

Edited February 11 by Mazer Rackham

[Machine God]

Kraggan:

 

He suddenly had an idea.

 

They hadn't Voxxed Teeth. 

 

 

+Crux'as are you OK?+

 

 

 

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Kraggan:

 

All you get is static.