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

[Mazer Rackham]

Atesh:

 

The fellow laughs heartily, pleased by your manner. His jolly sounds don't quite match his chest movements, though, as though some part of him is out of sync. He claps you on the shoulder when the strange convulsions cease. 'Ah! You're alright, pal. I was worried you were going to be boring. I hate being bored.'

 

The smile on his face goes slack, leery almost, and he rubs his gaunt chin with dextrous fingers. 'Fine, old son, keep your secrets. I'll find out anyway. Enjoy your excursion. I'm going to find the washer-woman!'

 

He claps you on the back, and nods at you as he walks away in the strangest manner a human could manage that wasn't gifted by one of the true pantheon.

[Mojake]

Varne

 

"You want to kill everything?  Fine, just so long as you save me for last.  In the meantime, I'd appreciate your help in putting down my targets, one by one."

 

"Aye," Varne grunted whilst inspecting a scuffed jump pack in the colours of a chapter he didn't recognise, he turned it over a gave a nod of satisfaction, "I'd be glad to." 

 

He perused the weapon selection on offer, looking for something less volatile considering their mission aboard a potentially fragile station clinging to a gas giant. His bored expression lifted as he clicked open a plasteel crate and found a belt-fed autocannon, rusted from lack of maintenance. He eyed the wicked blade protruding from beneath the barrel, then tested the weapons weight. Satisfied, he grabbed the heavy weapon and prepared to go, with one final look around the chamber.

 

He bid the Mantid farewell and headed to his new quarters, collecting a menial along the way to help him test fit and respray the new wargear.

Edited March 25 by Mojake
Added acquisition of RA here too, rather than having Varne wander back in like he'd forgotten something.

[Iron Father Ferrum]

Obadiah:

 

 

He gave a simple nod of thanks in return, watched as Varne idly toyed with his jump pack for a moment, then quietly slipped out of the armory.  He made his way back to the bridge, ruminating on the conversation they'd shared.  It was, in retrospect, about as brotherly as he could probably expect around here.  It would have to do.

[Mazer Rackham]

+ THE HAND THAT FEEDS +

 

+ COMPACT 03A +

 

LOCSIT: BOUNTY, HIGH ORBIT.

TIME INDEX: 0500HRS ZULU

MISSION TIME: INCIPE +30 DAYS

 

MORTAL PLAYERS:

 

The Razor's Edge slices into the orbital pattern for the agrarian world below. The challenges which have been made and replied to are quite perfunctory, and are easily obliqued by the ship's new ID codes. The long litany of vile atrocity the sip committed beforehand is long gone to history, and mankind in all its forms are wont to forget. It is perhaps why the Inquisition exists - to remind the living and the dead of their sins.

 

The Arvus Lighter is prepared and ready with the pilot, Mima Honso, displaying a nervous, professional energy.

 

Unfortunately she's also gabbling her head off since she has a captive audience.

 

The decks clear, moorings uncouple, and before you realise it, you are out into the black, smooth and easy. It is a distinct difference from the previous excursions by Krokodil. The crash couches are comfy, the restraints just right, and there's even stowage space for all manner of duplicitous baggage you carry with you. You can hear the back and forth between Mima and the control tower guiding in all space and aircraft (which makes this a busy day for them, perhaps) and you settle into the perfect angle for diving through atmosphere.

 

The trip is uneventful, with just a little buffeting to keep you awake, until Mima pulls into the holding pattern above the capital city - or town - since you can actually see it's environs do not spread very far, and a whole window in the Arvus has ample room to see it all. Beyond it, there are fields, never-ending fields of green, gold and purple as the different crops come into harvest. Beyond them, and just a tiny sliver of glimmering light is one of the intenal seas of Bounty, where they will harvest and husband fish and other supplies which feed the Emperor's armies and his servants.

 

It is beautiful, a place of slow, easy time, and as the sun breaks through in your wake, it paints the idyllic vista always preached of in the ballads of the Ygrekian remembrancers.

 

Mima puts the Arvus down on one of four landing pads, all of which look reasonably used for light craft, as the bulk haulers would likely use the big lading apron you spy on the far side of the town, lurking behind the adamant bastion of the Arbites. It doesn't take long for worker adepts to attend the shuttle, with boarding ramps or steps, and complimentary refreshments - and after all, why not? There is plenty to spare here.

 

Once this is done, the adepts turn away and leave you to your own pace.

 

When the door cracks open, a warm breeze blows in, carrying the fresh, gentle air of a thousand different summers gone and to come, and the mild hits of honey and wheat stir images of fresh bread, torn in half from stone-bake ovens that no doubt reside in every home here.

 

+Harville welcomes you,+ a servitor voxes from the landing platform entrance to the main terminal.

 

Edited March 25 by Mazer Rackham
Moved forward to dawn/arvus not aquila

[Mazer Rackham]

+ THE TYGER'S CLAWS +

 

+ COMPACT 03B +

 

LOCSIT: ITHYCA II MANDEVEILLE POINT, RELAY STATION PERUGIA, LAGRANGE POINT L3.

TIME INDEX: 1300HRS ZULU

MISSION TIME: INCIPE +30 DAYS

 

MARINE PLAYERS:

 

After dropping off the human party, the Iconoclast thunders forward in a wake of bulk haulers, commercial craft, Imperial supply regulators and Exaector Conveyors, until it cuts free and heads for the system exit. This is guarded by Perugia Station, an armed outpost of the Imperial Navy, and a recent installation to the system. They are busy checking all ships on egress, while their counterpart, a Dauntless Class Light Cruiser does the same on the opposite side, some thirty-thousand kilometres hence, monitoring traffic on ingress. vectors.

 

The speartip of the cruiser jabs a pugnacious shadow across many ships, the aquila atop and afore the prow the last sight in reverse portholes, and the underlying message to any invader - the Emperor watches. For it's own office, Perugia is no slouch either. Sporting macrocannon and torpedo bays, it is a stiff nut to crack for any void-faring vessel, since a small ship generally has no chance against the firepower of a station. This then is the Imperial approach - catching would-be ne'er-do-well's twixt hammer and anvil.

 

Still, the waiting time keeps you busy. The Sorcerer has his little foibles and leads those knowledgeable about such things down to the secure hold to inspect the Drukhari 'cargo'. Iscario attends in his office as official sawbones, and after unsealing the cryo-stasis crypt proclaims all within are very dead, and have died rather violently. Augurs, Narthecae scans and psychic probes prove no tumult awaits, and the dead are exactly that: dead. Those interested in the xenos weapons have the chance to inspect and use them.

 

Equipment is unboxed, the heavy cosmoline wrapping is a labour to remove and clear, but it reveals the weapons requested for the operation are whatever could be supplied in a pinch. Kraggan's notions of the Seneschal's awareness of the Astartes seems prescient, as the speech of Rakash and the nature of the items would warn any incompetent fool that something hardier than armsmen lingered aboard the Destroyer. The demolition charges are examined. They are military grade hardware, not cobbled-together nonsense, and should serve to do the task well.

 

GM: Varne, make your Evaluate Test now. Post your result below.

 

Those not inspecting corpses, checking gear or simply cooling their heels thinking about how they shall make the Imperium pay for the overblown transgressions imposed upon them, is on the bridge.

 

'Steady now, cut to one-third,' Palisar Imjin, the Senior Deckmaster has been drafted in to serve as Shipmaster, advises. If anyone would be best placed to sit in the Captain's throne, it would be him. His keen eye and handling of loads and velocities in zero gravity make him perfectly placed to understand mass tonnage under inertia.

 

'Aye, sir,' Acastus 'Claude' Toulk replies by rote more than anything, 'slowing to one-third.'

 

'Burn retros, now. Comms, transmit ID codes and liberty vouchers.'

 

'Aye, sir,' Jaina Maribor replies. 'Handshake acknowledged. Request coming in for details of ownership, destination and purpose. There's a time index showing a backlog. We have a few minutes to sort it out.'

 

'Lords?' Imjin asks.

 

GM: So gents, what do you tell them?

[Mojake]

Spoiler

Evaluate (Intelligence)

• Untrained (-20)

Intelligence: 40

Target: 20 

Roll: 02 (2 DoS)

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Varne:

 

From the hololiths, diagrams provided and general information you hold, and the explosive yield of these charges, you realise you could get away with just six of them - in the right places, of course...

[Mojake]

Varne

 

The Doom Eagle checks a borrowed dataslate, running through the plans and intelligence on their target. His eyes flick upwards in thought as he calculates in his head the opportunities for pre-weakening and softening the arms of the gas mining platform. He inspects the demolition charges again - advanced tech with flexible casing. A multitude of uses for these, both rockcrete bastions and heavy-duty plasteel bulkheads would fall to these charges with the right preparation. It would seem our current sponsor is playing it safe by providing spares. Varne took a pair of the charges and stowed them on his belt, then locked the crate containing the remaining explosives and made them ready to be packed with the rest of the boarding party's gear.

[FabiusV4lcoran]

Atesh Sapik

 

Atesh made sure to pull his disguise down to cover as much of his head as possible, and made sure his mask was covering the more interesting features of his face.

 

He walked down the gangramp to the ground and took in his first whiff of non-recycled air (albeit through a facemask) in months.  He took a moment to muse on the fact that after long enough, one can feel the difference between light from a star and light from a more artificial source regardless of the heat.

 

He breathed in the scents of industrial fertilizer on the air and let the warmth of the day flow through him, before tapping his earbead and quietly voxing to the other mortals:  

"Is anyone going to join me on this fine world to discuss next steps, or should I start burning things now?"

[A.T.]

Xerxes:

 

Lax security, or perhaps plausible deniability for a lord who had many unremembered guests from other worlds. A servitor would usually be the provenance of a scion of Mars but a greeting such as this would be better served by their erstwhile 'leader' who had atired themselves as one might expect of a poorly disguised man of potential wealth.

 

From beneath his newly dyed robes he peered at one of his scanning dataslates seeking familiar signal, though this far from the Brimstone seemed improbable. No such luck with the mutant as it blurted forth heresy that all with a vox thief in range might hear before they had even fully disembarked

 

"Such questions are not fit for present company, Master chirugeon". A pity that an explosive collar would have betrayed the disguise.

[Mazer Rackham]

Bounty - Landing Port:

 

Moments later, a rather rushed looking fellow and his aide step quickly towards the landing platform to address the four of you (GM OOC: Tarh Teshub is about, but he's in the GM Bag of holding). They appear to be minor ordo adepts or at least some rank of officialdom. They have lightweight robes against the warmth of the day, and the broad hat of a field labourer, yet it is cut with a trendy brim, and more compact. The robes are a little voluminous to keep heat during hours of darkness, a hue of deep maroon, with an under-tunic of off-white. The man in the lead is followed by a woman with her hair pinned up. Her millinery is daintier, but no less in quality.

 

The male puffs up the ramp from the main concourse and comes to a stop. He takes a few breaths to get his wind back up, his cheeks the rosy sheen of weathered folk in the farms and villages. It is hard to distinguish his age. His eyes carry the crow-feet creases, but there is life in the look he gives that speaks of other places. He has not a whip of fat on him. Lean, wiry and tall, the robes snap in the wind, clinging to this corn-stalk of a man.

 

'My apologies, sirs. We were held up in another reception.' He bows deeply. 'I am Custodian Prezcek, and this is Custodian-in-waiting Jamaine.

 

The woman bows.

 

'Your stop here is unscheduled, sir,' he immediately defers to Crux'as, nothing his garb, and the state of his companions, makes the decision, the Smiler is in charge. 'What is the purpose of your visit to our humble world?'

 

Edited March 25 by Mazer Rackham

[FabiusV4lcoran]

Atesh Sapik

 

Had he a mouth, Sapik would have flashed the dicephalon a :cuss:-eating grin.  As it was he settled for clacking his beak a few repetitions, but quietly enough that the Corpsies wouldn't hear.  He fell in line behind the man with the rictus face.

[Lord_Ikka]

Crux'as

 

At last, some degree of civilization.

 

"Greetings my good Custodian. Quite the title, indeed. I am Senior Factor Bardum, trade envoy and demi-plenipotentiary of the Crimson Claw Mercantile Syndicate. I have been sent to your delightful planet to perform a fact-finding mission. The Syndicate has plans to move some of its smaller ventures towards this system and is on the lookout for information about the planets herein."

Spoiler

Charm Test - general info/attitude

Target - 62

Roll - 51

Result = Pass, 1 DoS

 

The smile glittered. "I am especially tasked with making sure that there is enough security and available viands to make sure that the Syndicate's minor elite would be safe and comfortable moving here. They are, after all, the sort of people who require an adequate presence of both."

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Hagga frowned. Telling lies, skulking and sneaking, were not in his nature. The negotiator, Crux’as, might have been useful at this point. Still, he had found that most mortals had an innate talent for falsehood.

 

He addressed the bridge at large.

 

“Tell them we are a privately owned ship, on contract with a Rogue Trader House, currently on our way to hunt xenos raiders in… a nearby system, one that is close enough to Kataris for us to travel there in the same time frame… but far enough away from it that we will not immediately be connected with the destruction of Nydax’ platform.”

 

“Make up false names for our vessel and its Captain as you wish. Select a suitable system from the star charts to say we are travelling to. We would prefer to leave the Trader unnamed, but if they press, and if you are aware of a real Trading House that doesn't normally operate in the local Sectors, give that name. We are warriors, but you are star-sailors. We will trust to your collective knowledge to supply the necessary details.”

 

His final words were a reminder towards Maribor, as the Comms-woman would likely be the one who would actually speak.

 

“Sound matter-of-fact. Bored.”

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Razor - Bridge:

 

Jaina rolls her shoulders, eyes and lets out a huge sigh, before stabbing the rune to make reply.

 

+Station Perugia this is....Occam's Razor, on secondment to House Tirant of Damocles. We are tasked with visiting the Aurean Reach on a matter of pride and honour,+ she breaks off from her monotonous, and seemingly well-rehearsed diatribe to yawn at just the right spot, +and are duty bound to....+

 

GM OOC: She adds the details as discussed.

D100: Deceive = 97.

 

+That's all very interesting, Occam,+ replies an equally bored and obviously Governmental veteran employee who deals with it all the time, voice, +At what point are you going to send over the copy of your Warrant of Marque and travel orders?+

 

[Mojake]

Varne

 

Varne wandered back into the bridge, chewing on a carb-bar, and took a place next to Hagga, leaning against a guard rail above a data control pit.

 

"Everything is going well, I take it?"

[Mazer Rackham]

Bounty - Landing Pad:

 

Prezcek smiles knowingly of the wiles and whims of those in the upper echelons. 'Of course, Senior Factor, our humble garden world has the draw for good people who yearn for a simpler life away from the the humdrum and bustle of busy times.'

 

He doesn't say it, but it's obvious he's had this conversation before, many times.

 

'We have good room for your acquaintances to breathe,' he takes a theatrical gulp, ' and plenty of ready and capable arms to keep them safe. Would you like to come inside and we can discuss more? Your companions are obviously welcome to accompany us, or if they have their own observances to make,' he flicks a glance at the tech-priest, 'they obviously have the freedom to do so. I would of, course, insist on a guide so no-one becomes lost.'

 

He offers a genteel shrug.

 

'Space and security, both, Senior Factor.'

 

Edited March 26 by Mazer Rackham

[Lord_Ikka]

Crux'as

 

"Wonderful idea Custodian. As you have guessed, my fellows have their own specialties and our masters' have given them their own inquiries. We would be glad to accompany you, talk a while, and then perhaps meander a bit and see your citizenry. A moment while I relay your invitation to my comrades." 

 

Crux'as moved away from the Custodians, enough that a low voice wouldn't carry but not too far to appear rude. He looked at the three others. His voice came out of the charming smile as a near hiss, so quiet that even the cell members had to strain to hear him.

 

"After we talk to these Custodians, we split. I will take Atesh with me to find out about the local populace and foodstuffs. Xerxes, check out the Mechanicum presence on the planet and assess their loyalty/potential military might. Tarh, the PDF and local Arbiters are your job. Locate their bastion and armory. We will convene again in two days with our intelligence and then see what options we have. Our mission leaves in four days."

[Machine God]

Kraggan

 

+That's all very interesting, Occam,+ replies an equally bored and obviously Governmental veteran employee who deals with it all the time, voice, +At what point are you going to send over the copy of your Warrant of Marque and travel orders?+

 

"In memory of Robert Morton" he said softly. 

 

Fallen Magos Power Axe in hand he moved over to a free cogitator bank. He jacked-in and entered the noosphere. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

INT54 +20 (Tech Use - Experienced) +10 (Combi-Tool) - 20 (Hard) = 64. Result: 37, Pass 3DoS

 

 

 

 

Drawing upon his skills and 'Certain Codes' he fabricated the ship's Warrant of Marque and Travel Orders, which he caused to be transferred to the Cruiser. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited March 26 by Machine God
Typo

[Mazer Rackham]

Bounty - Landing Pad:

 

While you talk amongst yourselves, Prezcek takes the opportunity to prepare the refreshments, showing his method to his assistant, who watches intently. It appears to some manner of recaf or loose-leaf brewing ritual, the dainty glasses in silvered brass basket handles filled with the rich colour drink, a clear, strong smooth liquid. It is finished with a slice of lemon, and an ice cube.

 

He allows Jermane to copy him, watching over her without prompt, until she has completed two more glasses.

 

He beams at her and nods in easy approval.

 

They stand by the refreshment pedestal, awaiting your pleasure.

[Mazer Rackham]

Razor - Bridge:

 

GM: Hidden Roll

 

It takes a long two minutes of static. Then...

 

+All received, Occam. Looks good. You're pushed to the front. Manoeuvre using one-third and proceed to co-ords Xray - 1104.567, Yankee - 560.244, Zulu - 1999.345, and depart at will. Emperor guide you, Perugia, out.+

 

It appears you are free to leave.

 

 

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Rykaz let out a breath and raised his voice.

 

“Mr Toulk, follow the heading as directed. Thank you, Magos Kraggan. Nicely done, Mistress Maribor.”

 

He grinned at the Doom Eagle.

 

“Well enough, brother. Not our turn to die yet, anyway. Once we are on our way, I suggest we gather and plan out our attack?”

 

[Mazer Rackham]

GM: Players may consider themselves, 'in transit' via a short warp jump plotted by cogitator. I will update with translation to Kataris IDC (in due course), Marine (and Kraggan) may post interactions as you will.

 

GM: Players on Bounty will be given preference in GM engagement for now.

 

Edited March 26 by Mazer Rackham

[Mojake]

5 minutes ago, Lysimachus said:

“Well enough, brother. Not our turn to die yet, anyway."

 

Varne's eyebrows slightly raised at that.

 

6 minutes ago, Lysimachus said:

Once we are on our way, I suggest we gather and plan out our attack?”

 

He finished swallowing his meal and nodded, "I have some ideas on the nature of the demolitions." He glanced at Kraggan still working at the cogitator bank, "keeping our Magos colleague free from holes will be priority one - at least until the charges are planted."

[A.T.]

Xerxes:

 

Speaking to Crux'as, but openly for the ears of those nearby, "suitable sites for deliberation and commerce will require analysis for intrustion devices to ensure exclusivity of all discussion."

 

He took an appraising gaze about the plafform, "activity falls below expected projection. Advise comparison of our information with local records."