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

[Mazer Rackham]

GM: Firstly. Alright gents, I can see that a call for satisfaction (a duel) has been made, and that rolls which have been proposed have not been responded to with what I deem appropriate counter. In this case, there is no option left but to honour the opportunity to settle the matter by violence. Both participants will now agree to go to the training cages, and prepare for battle.  Once the challenge begins, no-one will intervene, except me if I deem it appropriate. Whoever does so will lose 2D10+10 Infamy.

 

GM: No-one may Assist, but onlookers may participate narratively.

 

GM: The ship is docked in a safe port. The crew is in good humour and about their business. There will be no narrative derailing.

 

GM: Once the matter is resolved, it is to all intents and purposes over for the Session or a point which I deem completely appropriate. Until the duel begins I am in charge. Let me make this very, very, very clear. Participants of the duel will sign up to the following rules. Failure to do so will end the matter immediately, but will cost an ungodly amount of Infamy. I shall dock whoever backs out 2D10+10.

 

GM: The Rules:

1. Combatants may use personal, bladed arms only. No projectile attacks, no grenades, no minions:
   1. Whichever participant uses weapons other than I have specified (you may clarify with me before this begins) will be docked 2D10+10 Infamy, and have the transgression treated as a Failing.
2. Combatants may not leave the area (to do anything) until the matter is resolved.
3. Combatants may at any time duck out of the challenge before dice are rolled.
4. Rolls must be verified. Use Orokos, whatever, but I want to see them in Spoilers.
   1. Any roll not substantiated will be discounted out of hand - this is P v P, not P v Me, and a higher standard of proof is required for fair and disciplined play.
5. This is Black Crusade:
   1. Once you roll the first dice, my hands are OFF. I'm not kidding. I will not intervene other than some IRL problem or situation causes the brawl to stop.
   2. Big Boy Trousers at all times. I'm serious.

GM: Discuss this in the OOC with me before you do anything.

Edited April 13 by Mazer Rackham

[Machine God]

Kraggan

 

He strode past Hagga.

 

"I shall see you in the Training Cages, unless you are craven?!"

 

 

 

[Machine God]

Training Cages

 

 

Kraggan

 

Facing off against an Astartes. It would be a test of the Quick and the Dead.

 

 

 

 

(Charge) WS41 +20 (Charge) +10 (Hatred) = 71.https://orokos.com/roll/1071027Pass 2DoS. Damage: 2D10+4 +4 (STR) Pen 6, Powerhttps://orokos.com/roll/1071030

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited April 14 by Machine God
Tidy-up

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Rykaz hadn’t wanted this. But the priest would not give a proper answer, and only offered to fight instead. With it become a matter of honour, the choice had been taken out of his hands. And so here they stood, in what passed for a training cage aboard the Razor, with members of the crew hooting and hollering, ready to fight to the death.

 

That might be his own death. Hagga made no assumptions. To think any other way was foolhardy. A duel, just like ‘normal’ combat, could be turned on its head by simple luck. He'd done this before, several times in truth, but more than one of those times he should have been dead.

 

He'd have preferred to do this without observers, but he understood the crew's desire for a spectacle. Not that he cared. He'd seen champions that played up to the crowd, egged them on, toyed with their opponents for cheap laughs. That was not Hagga's way. End it quick, if you can. Satisfy honour's demand, and finish it.

 

It seemed Kraggan had a similar thought. The first strike was remarkably quick, a sudden rush and a wicked swing. The mortal was fast, and strong, and furious. Although Hagga managed to twist Heart-Eater and deflect the rampaging axe blow away, he couldn't bring her back around in time to deliver a proper counter.

 

Kraggan stepped back and they circled for a few moments. Hagga grinned suddenly. This was exactly what he had missed on Kataris; a capable, dangerous opponent.

 

 

Parry roll: WS52 +5(Good) -10(Unbalanced) = 47
Roll: Parry1: 1d100 15

 

Edited April 14 by Lysimachus

[Lysimachus]

Counter-Attack: WS52 +5(Good) -20(CA) = 37

Roll: Counter-Attack: 1d100 78 Fail

 

[Lysimachus]

 

Hagga:

 

Hagga frowned thoughtfully as he sidestepped around the cage. The axe was a fine weapon, deadly in skilled hands. But there was a reason he'd chosen the sword when he became Champion of the 5th Company. Though Heart-Eater was a heavy blade, when wielded by one with the strength of an Astartes there was still room for greater finesse, and strategy, in her use.

 

Weaving a series of fiery arcs in the air, he suddenly feinted high.

 

 

Feint: WS52 +5(Good) = 57

Roll: Feint1: 1d100 87

 

Might even IP reroll that:

Feint1Reroll: 1d100 32

3DoS

1 IP used

 

Kraggan must also roll a WS test.

 

 

Edited April 14 by Lysimachus

[Machine God]

Kraggan

 

He defeated the counter attack, but misread the feint. 

 

Feint challenge = 41

https://orokos.com/roll/1071038

Success, 2DoS

 

 

 

 

Edited April 14 by Machine God
Feint Challenge

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

The axeman-Magos moved to block, changing his grip to take a two-handed stance so that the long metal haft would deflect the attack. Good. A good defence. Hagga would have done much the same.

 

With a twist of his wrists, Rykaz brought the flaming sword around and down, dipping under the spiked end of the axe, and on into the Tech-priest's thigh.

 

 

Half Action: Standard Attack: WS52 +5(Good) +10(Standard) = 67
Roll: Attack1: 1d100 49 Hit on (49=94) Leg

 

 

 

 

Edited April 14 by Lysimachus

[Lysimachus]

Dam 1d10 +10 +SB11 at Pen9

 

d10: Dam Roll 1: 1d10 9

 

9+10+11 = 30 - TB4 - AV1(10 - Pen9) = 25 Wounds suffered, 17 Wounds and 8 Crit, now on -8 in total.

 

Hagga:

 

It was a brutal swing, severing the leg entirely, dark blood and oil spurting in great gouts, soaking the red robe. Kraggan collapsed to the deck.

Hagga stepped back, blade held out at his side, as he looked at the fallen priest. After a moment he nodded, sweeping the sword up into a warrior salute.

 

“That was bravely fought, Magos. Do you wish to yield, or shall I end it?”

 

 

 

Edited April 14 by Lysimachus

[Machine God]

Kraggan

 

Hagga's mighty blow crashed into Kraggan and smashed him heavily to the ground, nigh bisecting him.

 

Left in an ungainly heap on the floor with his black blood pooling around him, his Fallen Magos Power Axe held in a rigid rictus grip.

 

 

 

Edited April 14 by Machine God
Tidy-up

[Machine God]

Kraggan

 

Suddenly the near-dead form of Kraggan props itself up on one arm and turns to speak to Hagga.

 

"Hagga 'Heart-Eater' I will tell you all that you wish to know!"

 

 

“Good. I would prefer not to see you dead. I enjoy your spirit, Magos, and your fire. But our comrades want - need - answers. Why did you fire those bolt rounds at Opal? I do not believe it was an ‘error’. How did you get us past that Imperial outpost when leaving Ithyca? Codes and such things are not easily come by! Who do you really serve?”

 

 

Kraggan's body jerked erratically, then finally relaxed as he fought and won against his Silica Animus components. 

 

"I thought that I was in control of it, yet the cold ice has started to crack since the aftermath of the Brimstone escape. Perhaps I caught a contagion off of the Xenos strain that Xerxes is worried about or the Lord of Skulls is displeased with my deception."

 

He stopped speaking as his mortal side remembered to breathe. He then carried on. 

 

"A struggle against the lie, the deception, whilst I believed that I was helping. The shooting of the Xenos corpses was an error. There was a corrupted file that meant I missed the pull of the Vox logs from the Opal Station. Getting us past the cordon at the Mandeville Point was child's play."

 

Hakrek spat out a gob full of black blood onto the floor.

 

"It was even easier with 'certain codes' that I obtained."

 

"You ask me who I serve. That has not changed, although I had some assistance."

 

"I serve Lord Huron Blackheart!"

 

"I serve Iorek Redfang!" 

 

"I serve you!" 

 

"I was infected by a program. This short-lived virus enabled a secure Vox conversation, as well as 'certain codes and short-cuts' to be transferred when I was recruited by Torun Vale, Harrowmaster of the Alpha Legion. He stated that the Red Corsairs had lost their way by expelling the assistance of the Alpha Legion. That were only interested in helping the Red Corsairs in the fight against the Imperium. He told me that I was to embed the codes into technology that I came in contact with so that it would make us stronger."

 

He look down at the floor. 

 

"I am not sure, now that I have confessed, whether or not the codes that I have still work."

 

He lifted his head to speak and accept final judgement. 

 

"Do what you wish with me. Explosive Collars and such like. I only wish to continue the fight alongside you all."

 

Permission for the Party to read the attached link

 

 

https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/383296-bc-the-blackest-heart-part-ii-ic/page/11/#findComment-6069019

 

 

 

Edited April 14 by Machine God
Placeholder filled

[Lord_Ikka]

Crux'as

 

Sigh. Bloodthirsty fools.

 

At least no one was dead. Crux'as slinked away from the doorframe of the training area. Duels had their place, he patted Nom'zas fondly, but this chest-pounding display of wounded ego lacked any profit.

 

The possible complications from the destruction of Opal were slightly worrying. They could only hope the authorities dismissed the evidence of Astartes involvement as either exaggeration or as allies for the Xenos. 

 

He wandered through the ship, letting the aether guide him. Flickering shadows came from the former home of the Cult Imperialis. Tapping Nom'zas hilt, the Smiler strode near.

[Necronaut]

Ukalegon

 

Seemingly half of the crew in addition to the command staff of the warband had crowded into the training deck and were packed in cheek-by-jowl to catch a glimpse of Hagga facing off against the crazed magos Kraggan. To say the atmosphere was electric was an understatement, and as the two combatants entered the sparring cage and took up their positions at either end, the din of cheering and bets being offered and taken filled the chamber. Ukalegon and the other astartes had muscled their way to the front and stood watching, each with an impassive raptor-like focus in anticipation of the impending violence and bloodshed.

 

Once things had reached a veritable fever-pitch amongst the congregation of spectators, someone pushed the cage door shut and rammed the bolt home with a deafening clang, and a hush fell over the crowd.

 

And it was over within a few heartbeats.

 

Kraggan stole the initiative and barreled across the width of the dueling arena, swinging his mighty halberd in front of him in a reckless attempt to remove Hagga’s head in one stroke, but the Executioner turned the cog-toothed polearm aside with ease. Hagga’s subsequent riposte missed, slowed as he was by the heft of his burning sword, but he changed the direction of his heavy blade with alarming skill and speed and grievously wounded the crimson priest with his counter-stroke, his follow-through spraying many of those pressed up against the cage with a shower of gore and machine fluid. Kraggan collapsed in a heap, bleeding profusely, one of his legs almost completely removed. He was finished, but still clutched his halberd defiantly.

 

Ukalegon turned to the others with a derisive sneer and said, “Only human…”

 

He had to fight a powerful, overwhelming urge to tear through the bars of the cage and sop up the freshly spilled oily blood that pooled upon the floor, and pushed himself away, cleaving through the crowd and tumult of shocked and perplexed mortals who clamored for more bloodshed and violence, barely realizing that they had just borne witness to the terrifying and visceral nature of an astartes in his element.

 

Hagga loomed over the wounded heretek and leveled Heart-Eater at his foe...

 

+++

 

Following Kraggan's confession and pleas for mercy, Ukalegon left the training deck and made for Iscario’s lair. When he arrived, he rapped upon the door of the makeshift medicae bay and poked his head inside. The fallen apothecary was bent over an operating slab, putting the finishing touches upon a cybernetic graft for one of the crew members.

 

“Come." 

 

Ukalegon entered and watched the alabaster-armoured astartes insert and tie off the final suture before helping his charge sit upright. The mortal bobbed his head and thanked the apothecary, pressing a small pouch into Iscario's gauntlet before hopping down and scuttling off, knuckling his forehead at Ukalegon as he passed.

 

The Lamenter watched the human leave then turned to look back at Iscario, who was wiping down his hands with his white helm cocked at a quizzical angle.

 

"I have a boon to ask of you, Iscario. When you revived me following my encounter with the daemon aboard Huron’s ship, I remember you made a quip about me using my skull as a braking device. To that end," he continued with a wry grin, "I have heard tell of some manner of arcane process by which one's skeleton might be hardened, reinforced well beyond ordinary means. Do you have knowledge of this art?”

Edited April 14 by Necronaut

[Iron Father Ferrum]

Obadiah:

 

Obi's chamber was not hidden, nor was it off the beaten path; in fact, the unused secondary arms locker he had confiscated for his own use was just off the spinal corridor not far from the bridge.  There was, however, no clear marking of who was using or for what purpose -- a deliberate choice -- so Obi was left to recline his armored form on the makeshift pallet he'd assembled while he slept.  No one bothered to tell him that there was a duel to the death occurring just a few decks away.

 

So it was when he awoke, emerged from his chamber, and reported to the bridge, he found the crew there on minimal manning and not a single other Astartes was present.  He cleared his throat to get the watch officer's attention and asked, "What happened?  Where is everyone?"

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

“Good. I would prefer not to see you dead. I enjoy your spirit, Magos, and your fire. But our comrades want - need - answers. Why did you fire those bolt rounds at Opal? I do not believe it was an ‘error’. How did you get us past that Imperial outpost when leaving Ithyca? Codes and such things are not easily come by! Who do you really serve?”

 

OOC: If anyone wants to add any other questions, please do. But it's basically 'tell us everything'.

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Razor - Apothecarion:

 

Iscario's helm is a blank slate, the inflections the Surgeon usually makes to drop light and shadow across it to give a dead slab of ceramite an 'expression' is absent.

 

+Your apologies, Lamenter, I was expecting you to come in holding a formerly attached limb in your teeth. Or at least once belonging to someone else.+

 

He dips his arms through the sterilising agent before holding them inside an autoclaving casket. The flash-scorched stink of hot ceramic-laminated armour taints the otherwise sharp piquancy of counterseptics and unguents of analgesia.

 

+I am aware of such...prescriptions. Are you seeking promotion to battering ram?+ He taps the ventral spine of his own casque. +Answer not, I prefer my diagnoses. I will require some...compensation in order to barter for the...treatment. We will have to use the costermongers of Perugia. Have someone leave your donation at a dead-drop, and hopefully in the next few hours, the components will await us.+

 

He taps a dataslate, fingers dancing in the green glow the way they were illuminated in the previous patient's guts.

 

+Attend me again in twelve hours. Do not worry about being late, I will start without you.+

 

He passes you the slate.

[A.T.]

Xerxes:

 

Xerxes tilted his head at the suggestion of the Brimstones influence. To this point he had thought little about the aliegences here for each had been pressed into service in one way or another, a band of traitors by definition what difference did one more master make.

 

But Kraggan had been far closer to the core and unalerted to the xenos purge, ignorant of its nature by his own prior words. It was plausible that a burn so bright may have compromised lesser conditioning, perhaps he had been hasty with Grenz in directing his initial research towards servitors alone.

 

He did not speak but took a step forward, not to interrupt what occurred until called upon.

Edited April 14 by A.T.

[Xin Ceithan]

Rakash 

 

The Sorcerer stood motionless, arms crossed among the crowd that had gathered to watch the duel in the cages, the witchfire of his  gaze locked firmly on  the fallen Magos. 
 

The bloody Martian might have cost us what little inroad we might have made with that White Tigress and her ilk.. 

 

Rakash felt his jaw tighten. This had been the Executioner‘s call and it would not serve the Corsairs to undermine the authority of the Astartes. Still..

 

+++Bold?++ he voxxed to Hagga over a private channel.

+++ Or veering off towards foolishness? And did he just confess to having been under the influence of some sort of scrapped code? Along with not knowing if whatever caused his plunder is still active or not?+++

 

Rakash’s laugh held no hint  of any amusement .

 

++++How does he expect to serve our cause when we can not be sure whether his own mind and body still serve him? ++++

 

 

[Lysimachus]

Hagga:

 

Rykaz didn't answer, but he did nod in agreement. The Sorcerer made a fair point. Hagga was fairly sure Ukalegon wanted to gut the Tech-adept too.

 

“I have a few questions, Magos. Firstly, where have you embedded these codes? I want a full list of every system, every cogitator, every device, without any exception. Secondly, I want to know their purpose. Spying? Or worse - sabotage? Thirdly, how they can be removed.”

 

He frowned grimly.

 

“You will not have my trust until I am assured you have put right the wrongs you have caused, at very least. Beyond that, your fate is not mine alone to decide. The rest of our group must have their say.”

 

[Machine God]

Kraggan

 

"Certainly, I shall furnish you with a full report..."

 

Kraggan suddenly stopped speaking and stared into space whilst he accessed his actions. 

 

The search took a long time to run, accounting for cross-referencing,

re-checks, accessing quarantined files and creating new passwords to avoid captcha.

 

He checked the log and noticed the search log had taken three seconds, a long time. 

 

Momentarily Kraggan resumed speaking. 

 

"I have only spoken four words to Torun Vale. He sent a message to me saying that we shared a common goal and that we could help each other.

He mentioned as I have already stated, that he believed that the Red Corsairs had lost their way by expelling the assistance of the Alpha Legion. That they were only interested in helping the Red Corsairs in the fight against the Imperium. He passed on a package containing superior frequencies, codes, addresses for an uplink node and bypass locations. He stated that use of the package would enable a network to be set up."

 

"I placed the package in a quarantined folder and ran Morton and More-Kaffee ghosts through to test it. 

Even at a safe glance, I could detect STC fragments in the code. It was just too good.

All further communication was just use of the package, dead letterbox."

 

"To avoid detection I used the package sparingly.

The first time was to gain entry to the airlock on Brimstone. 

Next I used it to take control of the Decontamination Servitor Clade. 

The third use was to access the Core Cogitator and announce the Red Corsairs takeover. 

After the cessation of the battle with Druid and the Xenos, I passed on the details of the Core Cogitator. 

Next I used parts of the superior code, to assist my fabrication of Ukalegon's Jump Pack. 

The sixth and final time that I used the package was to construct the Letter of Marque, which was used to get past the Mandeville Cordon."

 

"So on the one hand it might be construed as spying. On the other hand, it was a mutually beneficial arrangement to all parties.

If I am alive upon the return of Ukalegon, I shall check to see if I still have the package within my quarantine folder and delete it, if you so wish. 

Now with the destruction of Brimstone there are only two initial uses of the package left to be removed. 

Ukalegon's Jump Pack and the Cogitator within my pulpit on the Bridge."

 

 

 

And any other places that the virus has spread...

 

 

 

Edited April 15 by Machine God
Placeholder filled

[FabiusV4lcoran]

Atesh: 

 

Atesh cawed raucously with the crowd as the duel commenced.  These marines moved faster than he could watch.  The clash and clang of the battle was exhilarating.  Atesh found himself enjoying SOME aspects of interstellar life.

[Mazer Rackham]

Razor -Docking fuel transfer line #23:

 

As the ruckus with the two champions of Khorne continues, Thainn takes his chance to slip away. He takes one last look around at the place, seals his voidsuit and survivla sack containing all his gear, and drops into the docking tube fuel duct, closing the hatch behind him. He makes his way onto Perugia Station, and 'prospects' his way onto a freighter bound for Necromunda.

 

In his small billet next to the thermal bleeders where it was nice and cosy, and out of the way, a note id affixed to the wall with gaffer tape. It reads:

 

'Yous is all bampots, and ye's gonnae get me kill't. I'm awah. Get it up ye's!'

 

GM: Thainn has left the building. Mrs Miggins curses him for leaving her, well for at least three minutes.

[Necronaut]

Ukalegon

 

Ukalegon smirked at Iscario’s sardonic jest and replied, "Twelve hours. I will make the arrangements.”

 

He turned and left and returned to his quarters, a modest cell near the astromancer’s tower. He did possess much, which suited him just fine – most astartes tended to eschew finery and material possessions outside of their preferred implements to ply their trade in favour of traveling light. He had, however, managed to amass a modest personal arsenal, and perhaps something could give there. 

 

He picked up the secondhand boltgun he had acquired on Brimstone. Though he had only used it a handful of times, it had served him reasonably well and had no complaints to offer with regard to its manufacture or operation. It was, in all aspects, a solid if unremarkable example of a Godwyn Ultima pattern boltgun. And it no longer had a place amongst the weapons with which he now festooned himself.

 

Ukalegon slung the boltgun over his shoulder by its worn leather strap, feeling a momentary pang of guilt at pawning off such a mighty and rare weapon, but pushed it from his mind as he departed and exited his chamber. It was an asset, a tool, and one which no longer served his purposes and was better used in the service of augmenting his musculoskeletal system. He was no rifleman, after all; he was the reaper.

 

+++

 

The Lamenter made for the armourium, and rummaged about in search of a suitably nondescript container for the boltgun, much to the consternation of the tech-adepts currently on duty. Eventually he found a non-descript tool satchel whose contents he unceremoniously emptied onto the deck and stuffed the boltgun inside and departed again.

 

After walking through the ship for some time, he happened upon Vasily, the human pilot with whom he had flown the last krokodil to escape from Brimstone.

 

“Well met, Pilot First Class Vasily. I am pleased to see you are alive and intact. Your skill and bravery during our departure from Brimstone are to be commended.” He paused momentarily as a thought occurred to him and he went on, "It is good that our paths have crossed; I have a task for you…”

 

He gave the human the location of the dead drop as indicated by Iscario’s instructions from Perugia’s black market cartel, in this case an oft-overlooked nook between the jukebox and lho-stick vending machine in one of the spaceport taverns regularly frequented by long-hail freighter captains and the like. Vasily bobbed his head with a furtive looking grin and departed, the satchel slung over his shoulders.

 

Now it was time to wait.

 

+++

 

Ukalegon passed through the refectory for some sustenance and proceeded back to the armourium. There was work to be done. Pulling one of the attendant oily-frocked priests aside, Ukalegon ordered him to perform a full teardown and rebuild of his trusty chainsword. The weapon was taken from him and laid upon a workbench, whereupon the adept summoned misshapen servitors and set about dismantling it and anointing its components with all manner of sacred incense, unguents and blood-infused machine oils, all while droning prayers to the dark gods in an incomprehensible and blasphemous dialect of binharic and swinging his censer to and fro.

 

In time the work was complete and the chainsword was carefully reassembled, and a fresh coat of paint was applied to the heavily scuffed and scarred drive housing, and for the first time in decades it looked good as new. No, it looked better than new, if one could ignore the various gouges and dents. The priest had repainted the sword in a brilliant, arterial red, and the angled black-and-white chequered band had been painstakingly reapplied halfway up the housing.

 

Quite pleased, Ukalegon bowed and accepted the blade when it was presented to him and descended into the training cages to put his reinvigorated chainsword to work, spending the next hour or so carving apart training targets and servitors alike.

 

In time, he was summoned by one of Iscario’s menials. The delivery had been made.

 

 

Infamy Acquisition Test: Skeletal Petrifaction (Cybernetic)

Availability: Very Rare (-20)

Barter: Legion Boltgun (Very Rare; +20)

 

Inf27 + 0 = 27

D100: 09; success

 

+++

 

With GM permission, Ukalegon will spend 10 components to upgrade his chainsword to Good Craftsmanship.

Edited April 15 by Necronaut

[BadgersinHills]

 

Acchiersum Mourn

 

OOC: This is before the duel.

 

He says nothing, merely pointing her to place the candles near the lectern as he flips through the pages with surprising delicateness. 

 

His helmet chimed with a message. 

 

For a moment surprise was written clearly on his face, which turned to laughter.

"Come to the training cages, Jaina. We'll not want to miss this."

 

After the duel.

 

Mourn stood still as the crowd watched for Kraggan's fate, no doubt hoping it would be a bloody one. While some began to leave, sensing there would be no such entertainments today, Mourn strode through the crowd like a ship through ice, coming to stand behind Hagga.

 

The Alpha Legion, eh? They enjoyed their games, acting as spies when the Space Marine was capable of so much more. Despite this interesting fact, it was not the Magos he wanted to speak to.

 

++May we have a word, brother?++ he voxed privately to Rakash, even as he stared down at the wounded Kraggan.

 

 

 

 

Edited April 15 by BadgersinHills

[Xin Ceithan]

Rakash

 

Inwardly, Rakash was fuming.

 

The Harromaster! Damn that throne-cursed meddler ! And damn that Martian brute along with him….  
 

A ping from his warplate interrupted his blackened thoughts, indicating an incoming transmission.

 

Cyrandras involuntarily raised an eyebrow when he became aware of it’s origin.

 

Keeping his gaze fixed on Kraggan, he opened the channel, subvocalising a response.

 

+++ Go ahead  ++++