[BC] The Blackest Heart (Part II) (IC)

[Mazer Rackham]

The Operations Room:

 

Baraduk looks steadily at the smaller Marine, ignoring the small distraction entirely. 'Orders? No. I only bring opportunities and information to better direct you,' he says, evenly.

 

When Varne enters, announcing his presence, Baraduk says nothing, looks at Rykaz, leaving him to speak first. A demonstration, perhaps.

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Hagga took the other Marine's forearm in a warrior's greeting. He'd heard about the arrival of a former member of the Deathwatch, but hadn't crossed paths with him yet.

 

“Aye, that's me, Brother Varne. Clean-up from the previous battles, mostly, but any fight that equals dead Xenos is a worthy cause in my eyes.”

 

He turned to nod at Obadiah.

 

“As to orders, it seems we are given free rein. That is why I asked for us all to meet, so that we can figure out our objectives, and how we're going to make them happen.”

 

He looked around the Ops chamber.

 

“I don’t know if the Sorcerer Cyrandras Rakash will join us or not. He was looking into another matter that will definitely affect our prospects. However, I hope Brother Ukalegon will be with us soon. I know he had other… concerns… to deal with, but his counsel would be valuable. Are you both willing to wait a little for him?”

 

Edited February 11 by Lysimachus

[Iron Father Ferrum]

Obadiah:

 

 

He quirked an eyebrow at Hagga.  "I presume from your discomfort that Ukalegon is the, uh, the mutant I saw in Kraggan's forge."  He crossed his arms and found a stanchion to lean against.  "And a sorcerer is here too?  I just pulled a mortal one off of Penitence.  How many psykers do we have on this rock, anyway?"

 

He shrugged.  "In any case, I'm content to wait for the others.  Will any of the mortals be joining us, too, or are we -- the Astartes -- in charge?"

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Hagga paused. He hadn't even considered inviting the mortals for the current job.

 

“We are here as Red Corsairs,” he offered with a grin. “In any case, the Tech-Adepts are busy with their own concerns right now. I haven't met the mortal witch. There were also a few others who might be useful. A mortal soldier, not unskilled, and a… negotiator… I suppose? When the time comes to pick another target, they'll have their place here."

 

 

 

Edited February 11 by Lysimachus

[Mojake]

Varne

 

"Are you both willing to wait a little for him?"

 

Varne nodded, then began to stretch out his spine, leaning against a datastack, and examined Baraduk's youthful face from across the chamber.

 

"You have my sympathies," he offered sincerely, "odds are that you have a great many years laid out before you." In the few seconds of silence that followed, his gaze flicked to Hagga, then down to Heart-Eater. "But perhaps you'll get lucky," he grinned at the Huntsmaster.

 

Before the Badabian could respond, Varne turned to Obi. "You're fresh blood too, correct? What is your preferred way of making war Brother Obadiah?"

[Iron Father Ferrum]

Obadiah:

 

Obi's piercing blue eyes switched to Varne, and one hand drifted to the suppressed, scoped bolter slung at his side.  "As quietly as possible," he replied in a low voice. 

[Mazer Rackham]

The Ops Centre:

 

A heartbeat was granted to let the Mantid's grim statement take root before Baraduk offered Varne a cold smile. 'Perhaps this means he will outlive us all, Doom Eagle, but if you are looking to go sooner rather than later, I might have just the thing.'

 

He unharnesses his helm and sits it on the holotable to glower at the wall, a truculent distortion rippling around it as the total mapped and known areas of Brimstone comes online. The faint blue-green glow erases many of the colours and hues in your armoured forms, the dust in the room catches in the image as tiny twinkles, miniature stars that burn brightly before dying.

 

Baraduk's austere face appears bifurcated, his chin and slender jowls divorced from the youthful crown atop them as strange shadows cling about his shoulders.

 

GM: We'll wait for any other arrivals, and then the brief will start.

[Necronaut]

Ukalegon

 

A messenger eventually sought him out, rousing him from his seclusion and ruminations and lamentations. With a curt nod and a friendly grunt, Ukalegon sent the mutant child on his way, watching the little human scurry away with a strange loping gait, as if his legs were too long, or there were too many of them.

 

No doubt work was still underway on his war-plate, and knowing Hagga decisive action was likely. He would have to find alternative accomodations…

 

+++

 

When Ukalegon finally arrived at the operations centre, Hagga, Varne and the Mantis Warrior were already within, along with yet another of Huron’s chosen, this one sporting a vibrant but scarred suit of Mk V armour daubed in the Tyrant’s colours and a tall, blonde mohawk. He looked down at the ill-fitting and hastily fabricated garment he now wore which had been crudely stitched together from multiple different void suits and flak cloaks into something approximating a lightly armoured, vac-sealed boiler suit. He adjusted the crude leather rig he had helped fashion to manage his various implements and entered the chamber, his chainsword tapping against his leg where it hung as he walked.

 

To say he was uncomfortable would be an understatement.

 

He felt like a fool.

 

It certainly did not help that his outfitters had chosen to fashion a covering for his new tail from the pant leg of a spare void suit, complete with an attached leather boot, and he now almost gave the impression of an enormous three-legged toddler in footed pajamas woken early from his slumber.

 

There was nothing for it now.

 

His boltgun clanked against his chest plates where it hung over one shoulder by its leather strap as he passed through the portal and he cleared his throat to announce himself.

 

“I trust I'm not interrupting…?”

 

 

OOC: I trust the humorous image above (at least in my head) negates any real need for a formal infamy test for a single use intended, vac-sealed, flak-armoured boiler suit of dubious quality, which doesn’t exactly exist per the rules, but here we are. I'm narratively combining a void suit (well, multiple) with a flak cloak (again, multiple) for the sake of expediency if that's okay. Just following orders and having a bit of fun with it. 

 

But just in case…

 

Poor Craftsmanship Flak Armour (cloaks, multiple) with Vac-Sealed Upgrade

Availability: average -> scarce (campaign rules; +0) -> rare (armour upgrade, technically illegal per RAW; -10)

Craftsmanship: Poor (+10)

Quantity: 2-5 suits used in total (+0)

 

Total test modifier: +0 (unsure if this should be modified up or down further, just going off of the OOC as an exercise)

 

Target: Inf14 + 0

D100: 04; success (lol great)

 

Edited February 13 by Necronaut
Removed inferno pistol upgrade

[Mazer Rackham]

The Ops Centre:

 

Desann Baraduk looks across at the Lamenter. His gaze betrays nothing, his face is equally unreadable. It gives the overall suggestion that this man is not a simple adversary at either Regicide or Poker.

 

'You interrupt only Varne's funeral plans for me, Ukalegon Moros,' he says, now wryly, 'I hope that we can disappoint him.'

 

His finger jabs a rune on the table, and holoslates drop from the top of the projection cascade.

 

'Brothers, as you will see, we have some initial reports from the security patrols that were ordered. Iscario has also commenced genetic sampling to root out any traitors in our midst. Here, and here-' he breaks off, finger dappling two locations in the intestinal warren that forms Brimstone's stony guts '-we've had sightings of Genestealer Hybrids.'

 

The locations he taps are close to one another, close to unmapped tunnels, with air-duct access to storage areas.

 

'That is not all. On the conclusion of the mortal sleep-cycle last night, two of their number were found to have been killed in their bunks early morning. Their heads were presented by persons unknown on silver platters in the menial refectory at breakfast. The chef was quite upset about it.'

 

 

Edited February 11 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

“Happy enough to find silver in this grubby hole, though?”

 

The Executioner grinned, then the expression became a grimace.

 

“Not surprising that a few of them slipped the net. They can't be ignored, though. Just one of the wrong sort left behind, and it'll start the whole damn cycle up again.”

 

He looked at Baraduk, serious and without any outward animosity now. There was a time and a place for brawling and infighting. It wasn't when there were other enemies to deal with.

 

“With your agreement, Huntsmaster, we'll be off to burn the beasts out?”

 

He frowned. Truer words… a flamer might be very useful in those cramped tunnels…

 

“Brothers, I suggest we meet up at that refectory? From there we can access the unmapped tunnels. Say one hour to gather whatever else you think you'll need?”

 

Hagga didn't need anything besides his own gear, but that would give him time to go directly to the mess hall and get some food and drink. Maybe snatch a quick nap while he waited, too?

 

Edited February 11 by Lysimachus

[Machine God]

Kraggan:

 

Bert had returned and told him that Ukalegon had been summoned to the Operations Room by Hagga. Also that Ukalegon had passed on a weapons commission Xerxes to do with his Plasma Pistol.

 

"Well that is all fine, the armour can stay here under our care. Better for us to learn its secrets. I will seek out the Thrice-Dead at my leisure, we have our assigned work-load to complete and the Astartes have a bit of hunting to commence with."

 

He looked lovingly over the crafted jump pack.

 

"No doubt the Tyrants Jaeger has informed Hagga about the incidents in the Mess Hall!"

 

 

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

The Ops Room:

 

Baraduk knew the Executioner's question was merely a courtesy, considering this ball of rock was under the latter's nominal control, not his.

 

He nodded. 'Just as an aside, the dead serfs were the two witnesses who reported the Xeno-forms. I am certain it is just co-incidence...' He followed this up with a knowing look. 'If I learn anything more, I will update you. Good hunting.'

 

 

[Iron Father Ferrum]

Obadiah:

 

"Coincidence."  He spoke without inflection; sarcasm didn't come especially easy to him, but he was trying it out.  "I need to re-ammunition before we go on this hunt, and retrieve a...tool...from adept Xerxes.  Is there an established armory?  I'd like to restock on bolt shells.  And grenades."  His hand touched an empty holster at his right hip.  "And a bolt pistol, if we have a spare."

[Mazer Rackham]

Obadiah:

 

'Most of these serfs are criminals,' Baraduk added, 'or ex-gangers, or lags from Imperial Naval groups. Whoever took the heads knows us well. I put some witnesses into interrogation, but their evidence corroborated and nothing incriminated them; but they were tight-lipped.'

 

'The Armoury is not yet dedicated, however, the Armsmen have set something up next to the docking bays in hardened storage bunkers.' Baraduk shrugs, his warplate servomusculature exaggerating the movement. 'It is close at hand, and there is footfall to keep the reprobates in line.'

 

Spoiler

GM: On the Weapons front, Desann Baraduk offers you a dataslate:

• 13 x Knives (Mortal)
• 12 x Autopistols
• 6 x Laspistols
• 1 x Lascutters (Xerxes)
• 1 x Arc Welder (Xerxes)
• 1 x Box (06) Exceptionally unstable mining explosives
  • 4 x Boxes are recently unaccounted for.
• 1 x Legion Bolt Pistol
  • 1 Magazine
• 1 x Legion Combi-bolter
  • 2 x magazines (Duplex'ed for the gun)
• 1 x Legion Shotgun
• 2 x Combat Shotgun (Mortal)
• 6 x Legion Frags
• 5 x Legion Kraks
• 12 x Frags (Mortal)

Ammunition (besides what you have on you):

• 64 x .75 Cal Bolt Shells
• 27 x .455 Cal Bolt Shells
• 41 x 1.00 Cal Heavy Bolter Shells
• 17 x Legion Shotgun Shells
• 24 x Shotgun Shells
• 18 x Las Packs
• 129 x SP Bullets

 

'There may be more on the Dredge, but I don't know.' He stares at the holopict again.

 

Edited March 7 by Mazer Rackham
Name corrected.

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Hagga let out a discontented breath.

 

Bolt shells. Frags and kraks. A basic sidearm. All these things should be easily found, in an abundance... and would have been in any of their former Chapters’ Armouries. But here…?

 

He looked over Obadiah's shoulder at the pitiful list… and looked again, suddenly filled with cold fury.

 

“There were four more of those mining charges in there earlier today! Now they're ‘missing’? What if the hybrids have managed to steal them? That's enough explosive to kill all four of us if we aren't careful.”

 

His voice was a low, angry growl.

 

“New orders, Huntsmaster. Pass them along to the crewmen, if you will. Those Armoury stores are to have a guard stationed at all times. Anything that goes ‘missing’, removed without proper authorisation, is to be replaced weight-for-weight with the guard’s skin.”

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Hagga:

 

Baraduk looks up, scowling. He grunts in accord at your reaction. 'I was not aware of that. I will pass the word personally. I will also have one of my men secure the armoury immediately.'

[Lord_Ikka]

Crux'as

 

Crux'as leaned on the bulkhead near the entrance to the operations center. At the moment the Astartes were in the room, discussing something or other. It wasn't very important to him, this talk of Xenos hunting and armory security- with the xenos-worshippers' leader dead the cult would be flailing out in anger and rage without firm direction until a new leader rose up. At least that was the Smiler's experience with cults, though perhaps the Xenos version was different. As far as security, his interest was only in subverting security operations rather than implementing them. Still, it was interesting to listen to the Astartes talk and bluster. Their transhuman voices carried farther than humans and the bass notes were rather delicious in a fear-inducing, primordial hind-brain fashion. 

 

The Smiler took out his book and studied the notes within. Rituals and rites for summoning the Neverborn were a complicated matter, and even more complicated was the art of binding a summoned daemon into a physical object like a card, vial, or coin. It would take much time to research and learn these ways, but the outcome would be quite useful if he could become proficient in it. Maybe speaking to the sorcerers would help or appealing to the Wildweaver for aid. There was always a cost for aid, but Crux'as had not come this far in his journey without paying many a price.

 

The smile deepened slightly as the man stood and let the words and diagrams of the Lords of the Empty Plains move him. He would wait until needed...wait for as long as needed...

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Hagga threw what was left of the small, bony carcass to the deck, where Eska snapped it up with a satisfied crunch. A poor meal, especially compared to the feast they had enjoyed aboard the Wolf of Fenris. Still, it provided the necessary nutrition, for now. The Executioner took a long swig of water - poorly filtered, but nothing to trouble his enhanced constitution, and at least it was refreshingly cold - and then refilled his canteen and hung it back on his belt.

 

He'd taken only a brief period of true sleep, watched over by his canine guardian, but for an Astartes it was more than sufficient to restore him to full alertness. He suspected he might need it.

 

The disappearance of those bloody demo charges couldn't be a coincidence? Improvised explosives were the bread and butter of insurgent groups; it felt far more than possible that they might encounter them again as boobytraps while they travelled through the sub-levels of Brimstone.

 

Calmly he checked his weapons; bolter, pistol and blade, wondering which of the other Marines would arrive next...

 

 

 

Edited February 12 by Lysimachus

[Iron Father Ferrum]

Obadiah:

 

He hadn't spent much time around non-Mantid Astartes until he became a Corsair, but in that short time, Obi had noticed that most of his post-human cousins were uncomfortable around regular humans.  Being traitors and heretics, the Corsairs had a tendency to hide their discomfiture behind sadism and brutality, but the signs were still there.  The mortal humans were a reminder of where these so-called "angels" came from, and how fragile they had been -- and still could be.  It was his understanding that in most Chapters, some of the Astartes rarely interacted with their human serfs, so they were awkward around "regular" people doing "regular" things.

 

Not so with the Mantis Warriors -- before the war, at least.  They lived almost side-by-side with the folk of Endymion.  The planet had been under constant threat of xenos raiders out of the Maelstrom, and centuries of neglect by sector authorities meant that the Chapter had been short of transports; they were not sufficiently equipped to rapidly respond to incursions from their fortress monastery.  Small garrisons of several squads had been distributed around the planet set to ambush any predators hunting Endymionites, and the Astartes themselves thus lived amongst the people they were tasked with defending.

 

As a result, Obi was completely in his element sitting in Brimstone's makeshift refectory with a double-handful of their human serfs.  They had all gone quiet when he walked in -- perhaps expecting commands or violence -- but that all ended when he grabbed some of what passed for food and a canteen of water.  It had taken a few minutes for anyone to summon the gumption to talk to him, but after a while he had collected a group of mortals at his table.  They broke bread, cheered each other with the brackish water from the station's recyc system, and were trading jokes and tales in no time at all.

 

He didn't quite grasp the intricacies of some of the bawdier jokes his new companions told, but they in turn hung on is every word when recounting war stories from the Badab War.  He deliberately kept his cold fury at the Carcharodons locked away -- no need to scare them. . .yet -- but like all good things, this time of laughter had to end.  His belly full-ish, he excused himself with a smile on his face, drained the last of his canteen, and made his departure.

 

Exiting the refectory, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then put his helmet on.  He checked the load on Fate's Eye, made sure his newly-honed Silence was snug in its sheath, and stepped off back to the operations center.

 

It was time to hunt.

[Mazer Rackham]

Brimstone:

 

As everyone commits to their business, sleeping, moving, welding, or sauntering about with a full belly, a terrible rumble passes through the walls, floors and ceilings. An automated voice calls out across all sectors with vox comms and attunes to the emergency frequency in every comm-bead.

 

++ WARNING. WARNING: SEISMIC ACTIVITY DETECTED. WARNING, WARNING: SIESMIC ACTIVITY DETECTED. GRAVITY REGULATORS OFFLINE. GRAVITY REGULATORS OFFLINE.++

 

The message repeats in that same, cold, vox-coded tenor, ignorant of the sporadic shuddering around it, the tumble of rocks and stone, the creaking and buckling of stanchions designed to withstand macro-carronade bombardment.

[A.T.]

Xerxes:

 

Ephialtes turned from its work, unspoken alarm rousing Xerxes from binaric meditation as dendrite blades snapped out embedding themselves in the floor to hold the tech adept in place.

 

"Protect the machinery with your bodies, ensure alignment is not lost", the few labourers he had gathered could not be trusted with even so simple a task but this place lacked conversion facilities for a suitable servitor work force.

 

Problems such as these were not unexpected given Hurons demand for the rare ore within the facility, something he would seek to acquire himself when opportune, and he reached for the mining laser they had captured should access to the inner depths be compromised... pausing for a moment to consider that the damage might be irreversable but lacking such evidence that might be accepted by the Tyrant.

 

Swift the response would need to be then to ensure time to return as he scuttled out of the repair bay with Ephialtes holding an improvised shield over his head.

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Eska let out a deep growl at the alert, sensing danger but unable to comprehend the source. Hagga hurried from the Refectory, using his microbead to open the private channel they had used during the assault, though they had since tied it to piggyback via Brimstone's hardlines, allowing them reasonable comms across the station.

 

 

OOC: Using the same channel as we used before so it is not public or the emergency channel, but all the PCs can still hear what is going on, I hope that is agreeable?

 

“Brother Baraduk! What is happening?”

 

Perhaps the stolen demo charges had not been intended for him and his brethren? Maybe the plan was more destructive - having lost Brimstone, to permanently deny it to anyone else?

 

Edited February 13 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Emergency Channel (as described OOC in post above):

 

'I...trying to fin- o...' the signal is awful. 'We have a lot of confus-' static ruptures his reply, 'detonat- power recy- in substation twel-. emergecy...te- en ro-'

 

A particularly worrying wrench of plasteel effects from the door lintel of the refectory, eliciting gasps from the menials who dally within. Flakes of metal sheer as the advanced building material buckles. On balance, it seems to clear up the vox. Baraduk, in contrast to everything around him, is thoroughly controlled.

 

'Function-augurs show substation twelve is offline, and flooded with radiation. Smoke and fire alarms on several sub-strata. Gravity fluctuation across several core decks.' The channel switches, but his vox line remains open. 'All Enginseers, to damage control, all personnel into survival gear!'

 

When Baraduk comes back, that Badabian accent is a little thicker, but it's a professional under pressure.

 

'We are being crushed. Get power recycler twelve back online or we are going to have to chew our way out. If we last that long.'

 

GM: I'll allow for more reactions before dumping info/directions.

 

Edited February 13 by Mazer Rackham

[Machine God]

Kraggan:

 

Big structural creaks shook Brimstone. Loud klaxons sounded and he had acted swiftly, like a large mechanical spider he'd affixed himself to the ceiling of his Forge as his Thralls scuttled about. 

'All Enginseers, to damage control, all personnel into survival gear!'

 

"You heard get your void suits on. I'm off to damage control. Hopefully Ukalegon's jump pack will still be here on our return."

 

Kraggan headed out. 

 

 

 

[Iron Father Ferrum]

Obadiah:

 

He'd taken two steps before the dull crump of distant explosions presaged the wailing klaxons.  With a glance and blink, Obi was able to mute his helmet's auditory inputs, which made it easier to think.  Then Hagga and Baraduk started calling out status reports in his ear as well.  As Baraduk mentioned gravity fluctations, he watched as the lintel of the door he had stepped through not five second before began to buckle.  He could feel the same pull on his body, as if he suddenly had a Rhino on his shoulders.

 

He cranked out the output of his vox-mitter and yelled "Get out of there!" to his lunch companions, but didn't wait to ensure they followed the barked order.  Instead, he unslung Fate's Eye and began eyeing the corridors around here.  "Obadiah here.  Pipe directions to that substations to my armor, I'll get there as soon as I can."