View Full Version : Rogue Trader: Sors Remuneror Audax

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2012-10-24, 09:11 PM
Footfall, as currently seen from The Nostalgia For Infinity's starboard observation deck

House De Cour. A stout rogue trader dynasty, with a reputation for making good on its deals and making canny investments, but one with few warp-capable ships to squander, these days.

Which is why the loss of the Firestorm-class frigate Fearless Trailblazer vexed Lord-Admiral Percy De Cour so. After its crew completed a very successful job ferrying much-needed supplies to a new Imperial colony in the Foundling Worlds, selling them for a wonderful markup and securing a profitable standing trade contract, De Cour gave it’s Captain Spargan permission to venture deep into the Halo Stars on an endeavor parallel to that undertaken by The Nostalgia For Infinity, an open-ended mission to plunder the reaches hidden riches.

At first, it seemed he would not be disappointed by this investment. Shortly before The Nostalgia For Infinity’s fateful run-in with eldar pirates, the Trailblazer’s astropath sent its sister-ship an excited communique, in which their captain boasted of discovering the ruins of a previously unknown xeno civilization, laden with fascinating artifacts. His ship was on its way home with the best of these treasures, and hoped the Lord-Admiral would fund a fuller expedition.

This was the last that was heard from the vessel. They failed to respond to Captain Tybalt De Cour’s frantic request for reinforcements during the eldar attack. All attempts to locate the missing vessel afterwards were fruitless. This story is known to most of the old hands on De Cour’s crew; it is of particular note to the ship’s Navigator, Lord Haddon of House Cassini, as the Navigator on the missing vessel is from the same house and is (or at least, was) a favored relative of his. Life went on. Percy De Cour bequeathed the Warrant to his son, Tybalt, but the mystery frustrates them still, and no trace of the Fearless Trailblazer or it’s priceless cargo was ever found. Until now.

Footfall is an environment that actively encourages pirates and other ne’er-do-wells to offload their stolen booty with minimal fuss and risk in it's thriving black markets. One of its lesser known landmarks is Troika-Sigma-445. A suborned admech satellite and communications buoy, it is said that it began life as a probe sent to scan some backwater star, or maybe act as a relay for military vox-signals, or some other waste of everybody’s valuable time, before it was captured and reprogrammed by hereteks into something much more relevant to Footfall’s daily life.

The satellite is maintained by a very powerful underworld cartel as an anonymous auction house for black market goods. If you’re one of those few “in the know”, and you tune an auger array in to the right encrypted frequency at the right time, you can participate in a live auction where upstanding Imperial citizens hurriedly sell off those goods which they obtained honestly, through their completely legitimate business enterprises. And all with the reassuring anonymity that’s become so popular among today’s interstellar criminal element. The only cost is the relatively affordable “subscription fees” required by those who both maintain the satellite and make it known that unfortunate things would happen to anyone that interfered with its operation. Some good deals can be had from those auctions, and more than a few ‘subscribers’ simply tune in and silently listen to the bids, just to keep an ear to the ground about what’s being sold and how much people are willing to pay for stolen fuel rods these days. Fiona Sasha Derishcov is one such person.

One of the recent auctions was for a guncutter, of a model well-regarded for performance and system specs. Recovered drifting in space, power cells drained, but otherwise in perfect working order, with a description perfectly matching that of the captain’s guncutter on board the Fearless Trailblazer and the former property of the De Cour dynasty. With the guncutter lies the hope that there might be some information about the location of the Fearless Trailblazer stored on it’s flight computers- or at least some clue as to what happened to the vessel- and so once Lord-Captain De Cour was informed, he immediately put a bid on it.

There were several interested parties at first, but they dropped off rapidly as De Cour’s bids increased well past the guncutter’s value, the bidders clearly unaware of its history and not interested in it beyond its face value. One other voice kept outbidding him, though. The bidding grew ridiculous, eventually exceeding the verified credit that De Cour had on hand, before being sold to this unknown third party. The standard procedure is that the seller and the buyer will be secretly provided with each other’s contact details to arrange the physical trade.

De Cour muses that even if the frigate was completely destroyed, the fact that this guncutter somehow escaped unscathed implies that there’s at least a wreck to be salvaged, somewhere out there. Plus, it’s his damn wreck! Whoever this other bidder is, he’s not going to take it from this dynasty.

Time is very short, as the guncutter will likely change hands to its new owner today, so the window to intercept the handover and acquire the guncutter (and whatever clues it may hold) is limited. De Cour has called an emergency meeting of his senior staff to pull together a plan. The satellite itself offers no clues, and the other bidder was used a vox-synthesized voice to place his bids. Some of the ship’s many techpriests were put to the task of unscrambling it from your vessel’s own vox recordings. Engiseer Zerah, in her official capacity as the admech’s designated “go-and-speak-to-the-meatbags” dogsbody, will brief you on her team’s findings.
Your fate points will be restored to full once you either take possession of the guncutter, acquire any information it may hold, or conclusively fail to do either of those things.

OOC: Only Sythius Dinevidan, Lucius Jonathan Mealstrom, and Fiona Derishcov knew about this satellite before the guncutter auction came to light. whiskytangofoxt, feel free to relay the briefing in your character’s own words, particularly for the benefit of those characters that won’t necessarily know anything about this black-market satellite that Fiona recently told you about.

In future, this kind of character-specific knowledge will be PM’ed to individuals, but I wanted to minimize delays at the beginning while still giving the Lord Captain the opportunity to deliver the plot exposition to his people in his own style, plus persuade them that they should care about his dynasty’s missing frigate ;)

Henry the 57th
2012-10-24, 11:35 PM
The room's automatic door slid open, and Sythius strode into the place where he had heard a meeting was to take place. He scanned the room. A rather pleasant-looking wooden table sat in the room's center, surrounded by several similar chairs. The crest of De Cour was elegantly carved into the table's center. Several subtle projectors were also present in the table, allowing it full functionality as well as its pleasing aesthetic qualities. The wood was far harder and stronger than most, and rumored among the crew to have come from some exotic xenos world. Not a terribly lavish or decadent place, but still too decorative for him to be entirely comfortable.

There was no one in the room at present, a fact that made Sythius slightly disappointed, but did not particularly surprise him. I'm here first. Again. he thought. It was not a new phenomenon. Years and years of fighting and commanding on a fortress world had taught him to always be ready to be called up at any time and any place. He had never been the fastest back home on Bastion Secundus, but his fellows aboard this ship lacked his extensive practice and drilling in the art of showing up quickly.

As always, he was dressed in his favorite silver-grey power armor, which was in turn coated in numerous types of weapon. At the insistence of several of his comrades, he had left his signature lascannon behind for the meeting, but he never went anywhere without at least a few weapons on hand. Laspistols, autopistols, grenades, a shotgun, a hellgun, and a mono-sword were all affixed to his all-concealing armor. Years of fighting the piratical Red Corsairs had taught him that an enemy could strike at any time. Besides, he never felt quite right without his armor and weapons on his person.

Sighing almost inaudibly at what he perceived as his comrades' slowness to react to calls to duty, he settled himself into a chair, the incredible strength and toughness of the wood bearing his heavy armor without difficulty. He chose to pull out one of his laspistols, a bit of polish, and a cloth. While he waited on his comrades, he would simply clean and polish his pistols again, for the millionth time. They could not in any way be considered dirty or worn, but the habit was always rather comforting.

2012-10-24, 11:54 PM
Before he sat down, the door opened again. The synskin-clad Fiona entered silently behind him, making no sound to reveal herself with. Under either arm was a holster, one with the archeotech laspistol and the other with the inferno pistol. Apparently the seneschal thought much the same in regards to paranoia as the arch militant.

In her hands, a dataslate synced to the ship. It was useful to have access to the various goings-on, from the passive detection of the augurs to the up-to-date reports from her men across the ship. Derishcov enjoyed knowing things. It kept her alive.

Standing still a meter to the left of the door, behind Sythius, Fi made no effort to announce her presence. He may have heard the door open, or perhaps he didn't. He had begun to polish a laspistol, it seemed. She waited for the rest of the crew.

2012-10-25, 12:50 AM
Lord Haddon of House Cassini


On the heels of the black synskin clad woman the doors hisses slowly open again revealing the noble garb and faintly nautical finery of the vessel's warp guide.

Tall, lithe and quiet Lord Haddon of House Cassini slowly stalked into the room with neither armour nor weapon. Save for the metal staff tipped with a white orb held by red calipers he was unarmed though movement beyond the door, a flash of black cloth with red and white trim suggests his guards have merely waited outside the doors.

As he enters the cowl still firmly pulled over the flickering warp eye he gives a respectful nod to Fiona as she stood silently near the door. Head turning to the militant his thin lipped expression twitched in a smile as he offered a slightly mocking bow to the power armoured figure. "Good Afternoon. Are we still awaiting the Lord Captain?"

Walking over to the viewing port and helping himself a thin crystal flute he pours himself a large glass of nicely matured amsec, inspecting the amber liquid in the light of the void he takes a small sip as he looks at the sprawling collection of metal and rock chained in space. "There is something about Footfall that has always filled with me concern. It will be good when we retrieve the 'cutter and ca set forth into the void. The entropic decay of settlement has already set in. It will be good to hear the soft whsiper of the warp and let her..." here he lightly touches the walls of the room with a gentle fondness for the Nostalgia .. head back into the void where she was meant to be."

The words mumble off as he turned to face the other two and then die in his throat as he doubts either of those present can understand the sense of freedom and the visceral thrill of the warp and the void in the way that he could. Soon Victris. he thought to himself. We'll get this dammned guncutter and then we can come and find you and bring you home. He knew that the likelihood of his brothers survival was limited but not knowning was the worst of it. For Haddon and his sisters Erika and Xanthus. He continued to stare out of the viewing port, a faint aura of rainbow like colours playing about him as his warp eye opened a fraction and the whirling maelstrom of the warp began to open itself to him.

For the others in the room the observation window seems to flicker and twist as a host of reflected images play across it like an ever changing moving of light going far outwith human capacity to describe.

I've named his elder Brother aboard the Fearless truth as Victris

If either Sythius or Fiona want to peek at a reflection of the warp look this way :smallwink:

Though his warp eye is only peeking not fully open so he's not really endangering anyone.

Henry the 57th
2012-10-25, 01:02 AM
Sythius didn't turn his head, merely glanced at the new arrival out of the corner of his eye, his armor making it appear that he isn't moving at all. "Yes, we still await our leader's arrival."

The Navigator's evident enthusiasm for the "whisper" of the Warp was somewhat off-putting, reminding Sythius of the deluded cultist slaves of the Night Lords screaming about how the Dark Gods whispered to them in their dreams, filling their heads with lies and heresy. He checked his weapon discretely. Naturally, it was working perfectly. He put it away and took out his second laspistol and began polishing it. Even as he did, he resolved to keep an eye on this Navigator.

2012-10-25, 01:07 AM
"I'm sure Lord Der Cour will be along shortly -- our captain has much on his mind today." Fi's Low Gothic was tinged with the accent of Footfall or some indeterminate underhive. Street Gothic, as it was referred to by some. Still, she made an effort to hide it. "As for Footfall, I don't mind it. The place has its ups and its downs, but there's a class of people there that can be reliably predicted -- the sort of creature you can take into your considerations without too great an effort. Plus, what a marketplace! You can find almost anything here. That's gotta count for something, right?"

Looking up from her dataslate just a hair, Fiona noted their positions in her peripheral vision before returning her attention to the streams of figures and facts in front of her. "Of course, there's also less of a chance of being assaulted by terrible daemons breaching the veil between the Warp when you're docked at Footfall. So that works in its favor, by my estimation."

2012-10-25, 01:34 AM
"Of course, there's also less of a chance of being assaulted by terrible daemons breaching the veil between the Warp when you're docked at Footfall. So that works in its favor, by my estimation."

The last comment is punctauted by a flicker of reflected warp light that illumines half the room and Haddon's 3rd eye twitch in amusement at the last comment. A soft whispered "The demons are here as much as anywhere else. And here as often as not they wear human skin".

Louder he nods and smiles at Fiona. A drink Lady Sasha?" before nodding at the structures out the window. "I am glad we have you to deal with them then."

2012-10-25, 01:37 AM
"I don't normally deal with daemons, unless you mean scoundrels. And generally, I wouldn't consider one as the other, but that's just me. The kind that make the walls bleed green and drive men insane, those're the daemons I'm worried about. And those, generally speaking, only appear when you move through the Warp. Or when you have some blasphemer running around slaughtering grox in the middle of the night." She shrugged and scrolled down the dataslate.

"No thank you on the drink, m'Lord. I prefer to keep a level head."

Henry the 57th
2012-10-25, 01:56 AM
"I presume you are merely speaking metaphorically, Lord Haddon?"

2012-10-25, 04:06 AM
The door slides open again and Zerah hurries in, several datapads in her arms. Clad in the red robes of the Adeptus Mechanius, much is obscured from view, but what's most evident is her mechandite, currently in 'rest' pose and settled around her shoulders.

"Not late, right?" She glances about, fumbling with one of the pads and nods. "No? Good." The enginseer smiles, ambling to the table to stand near Fiona and nods to the others. "So, chasing a 'cutter, is it? I worked on one a while back, that was a treat. The machine spirit can be a bit aggressive at times, but I've found that if you use the rite of rewiring on the primary buffers before you carry out the blessing of the generator panels to awaken the spirit, it'll be far happier to work with you.

Don't ever do the rite of connection on the thruster assemblage first though, it makes it very angry, and I've seen it strike at people when they do that." She grimances. "One poor person even got set on fire one time."

2012-10-25, 04:20 AM
"I presume you are merely speaking metaphorically, Lord Haddon?"

Haddon shuts off the warp eye as the door opens and bows cordially to Zerah. Before turning to answer the hulking militant. You speak of demons in the warp. At least their nature is apparent. If you observe the crimes that you humans inflict upon one another can you question whether that is less demonic?

The nature of man is merely a blending if the raw spirits of the immaterium.

Henry the 57th
2012-10-25, 07:37 AM
Sythius gave Zerah a nod of acknowledgement. "Enginseer."

He then turned back to the Navigator. "I asked because I have seen daemons literally wearing a man's skin. I have little interest in philosophizing over the nature and deeds of man, merely knowing what to expect. Possessed men are hellishly fast, tough,and strong, and regenerate impossibly quickly. Possessed Astartes are even more so. They all die when you shoot them with a lascannon though. Most of the time."

2012-10-25, 07:42 AM
"So philosophical! Of course, that philosophy overlooks every facet of humanity except for 'crime,' but I suppose a good, pithy philosophy requires a certain brevity. Anyways, for the record, the answer to your rhetorical question is that yes, we can question whether man or daemon is more daemonic. In the same way you can ask whether red or blue is more blue." Looking up at her Adeptus Mechanicus friend, Fiona smirked.

"No pockets, Zerah?"

2012-10-25, 07:58 AM
The enginseer blinks, then shakes her head with a reassuring smile. "Oh no, no. Don't worry about anything like that. We look after the geller field rather well. It gets more prayers per day then anything else." She pauses, realising that may imply favouritism. "We make sure the other machine spirits of The Nostalgia For Infinity, glory to its nature." She pauses to make the sign of the cog. "We make sure they're all cared for and content, but the geller field has to face such horrors in the Warp, it often needs soothing and calming."

She casts Fiona a smile, setting the pads down on the table with some relief and care. "I was worried the pads might get annoyed with me. We asked them to hold a lot of information and I wasn't sure they'd take too kindly to pockets. See, we had to.." She stops, looking around. "Oh, no Captain yet?"

Henry the 57th
2012-10-25, 08:13 AM
"No Captain yet." Sythius affirmed.

2012-10-25, 09:39 AM
Not subtile at all Lucius hussles through the door.
Sorry, People, Sorry. Woman can't stop complaining, then it's to hot, then it's to cold, then I need to keep the kid busey, then I do it wrong, she drives me crazy...
He looks around the room at all the calm faces, then starts walking around with only his vest on and underneath it normal cloths. Two boltpistols hang at his belt and he makes a rather exhausted and irritating appearance.

He breaths a few times slowly with closed eyes, then also takes a seat and nods at everyone in the room.

Glad to see your faces, and glad to be here, forgive me if I say I am really up for something like this.

He again looks around and furrows.

No Captain?

2012-10-25, 09:46 AM
"Actually, he's here -- Lord Captain Der Cour decided he was going to hide under the table, just for a laugh." Fiona moved her eyes from Zerah back to the slate of numbers.

"Shall we go down a list and ask additional obvious questions ad nauseam? Perhaps we should each remark on the lack of Eldar currently flaying us alive, or mention how we aren't all on fire." The tone was still level, but a small amount of mirth couldn't be contained.

"While I have you all here, I will go ahead and remind you that any unusual items you may be interested in obtaining should be collated and sent to me, so I can start searching for them. My men on Footfall are in place, so once we know what to look for, we can start that. Just think about it, if you haven't already -- I'm unsure when we'll have time to actual barter for the things, but they can work simultaneously as we do on separate matters."

2012-10-25, 10:00 AM
That would be nice, if you could also find me a maid that would be wonderfull and help me get rid of all the stress. He winks at Fi.

He lais his hands on the back of his head and sits comfortably. So what about those deamons, you saw any? I am really up for some action.

2012-10-25, 10:02 AM
"I know just the sort. She works primarily with poisons, but if you'd prefer to remove the 'stress' by means of strangulation, that could also be arranged. Most of my maids prefer clean methods, though. Less clean-up afterwards." She spoke with a straight face.

"As for daemons, we were actually just discussing the philosophical differences between humans and daemons. But, to my knowledge, that's the extent of it -- unless there are some on board I'm unfamiliar with? I suppose they could be anywhere, at any time..."

2012-10-25, 10:11 AM
Uh, No thanks, I will.... handle it myself

He looks knowingly to Zerah... Then plays a bit with one of his guns waiting for the captain to arrive at the meeting.

Henry the 57th
2012-10-25, 01:10 PM
Sythius looked at Fiona. "If you are taking request for items, I have a few: a hellpistol, filament grenades, a conversion field, and the auto senses and prey sense upgrades for my helmet."

2012-10-25, 02:15 PM
Commander Gethsemane, something of a spiritual advisor to the Captain, entered soon after the philosophical discussion between the lady seneschal and the lord navigator. That was probably a good thing, what with him still wearing his Adeptus Arbites uniform, in spite of him being retired.

Why he held the rank 'Commander' was unknown. He didn't have any official position in the Rogue Trader's crew, and had no official subordinates, but, still, he kept the rank. Was this his rank in the Adeptus Arbites? It was hard to tell.

He took his seat, as was his right, and listened quietly to the others' discussion.

When he realises the others have been discussing the daemonic, he offers a little advice to Lucius,

"The unclean are no mere trifle, privateer. The dangers they present to one's body do not compare to the danger presented to one's mind and soul. One may destroy their forms with the holy bolter, but later appear a very different man to one's closest friends and family... if one does not gird one's self in the Armour of Contempt."

He seems to make use of a third person pronoun in order to make his advice apply to everyone, not just the gunslinger. His voice is cold, yet it isn't admonishing or condescending.

2012-10-25, 03:31 PM
Zerah just offers Lucius a confused look in return to his own, settling for looking through one of her datapads as the conversation continues. Then Gethsemane enters and as she glances towards him, the tempature seems to get suddenly cold. She watches him for a long moment, her mechandite twitching slightly, before she forces herself to study the datapad once again.

2012-10-25, 03:40 PM
Seeing that his mere presence may have put a roadblock in the way of the bridge crew's conversation, the Judge offers a little by way of apology. His voice warms a little as he speaks of a less terrifying subject,

"Please, do continue. I must admit that I'm personally more than a little intrigued as to why our Lord-Captain finds this gun-cutter so valuable."

2012-10-25, 03:40 PM
"Collated and sent to me, please. I'm not going to be held responsible for forgetting you wanted a conversion field as opposed to a refractor field -- if I have it in writing, then I have no excuse. But most of those things should be simple enough to obtain, although the field may be difficult. I'll put out feelers."

When the Arbite entered, Fiona made no indication that she cared. To his advice, however, she did have this to say: "That seems more in line with m'Lord Cassini's argument, that even humans can be daemonic without being truly possessed."


"Anyways, moving away from the denizens of the Warp, the guncutter's importance lies in the desire of our Lord-Captain. I imagine everything else will be variations on his whim, regarding it -- but we won't know until he arrives. Although, you never know... it could be made of rare crystals and only painted to appear like a true guncutter. I think I read a pulp on that once -- can you imagine!"

2012-10-25, 03:45 PM
The armoured Judge nods, his face behind his visor expressionless. He doesn't seem to either agree or disagree.

"I can't claim to know for certain, ma'am. There are multiple schools of thought on the matter, each having their strengths.

It is wisest to maintain a healthy degree of caution in such matters, and, generally, it is safest to assume the worst."

Gethsemane knows that Chaos cannot be truly understood. He also knows that the Imperial Creed's view on such varies not only from world to world, but from priest to priest. Caution, in this case, is most certainly a virtue.

He then smiles when Fiona lightens the tone somewhat.

"Maybe, ma'am. I am working under the assumption that this vessel has some personal value to our Lord-Captain. What that value is, however, I am most unsure of..."

His voice is slow and carefully pronounced, measuring his every word...

2012-10-25, 03:51 PM
"All we'd need to do is scrape off the top layer, and glittering underneath like a thousand spiders' eyes would be the facets of gems, lovingly carved and inserted into a solid platinum frame. To protect it from the prying eyes of a xeno, no doubt! Some covetous, licentious xeno, perhaps some hulking brute with thick muscles and matted hair, called... Grufkins, maybe, Grufkins the Destroyer! And he hates beautiful things, so he, I don't know, he would grind up gems and snort them! Because he has no appreciation for material value! And the guncutter is the treasure trove of the Family of Cyn, sent from the future into the past to protect it from Grufkins! But now Grufkins has traveled back as well, and now... now we've got to deal with the fallout!"

Fiona liked stories. Stories were more interesting than reality, most of the time.

2012-10-25, 03:53 PM
Zerah grinned, nodding in agreement. "But who's the hero of our story, Fi?"

Henry the 57th
2012-10-25, 03:54 PM
Scythia glances at Fiona. "But of course." He takes out his own datapad and quickly writes down his list before sending it to her.

2012-10-25, 03:55 PM
"That's certainly more interesting than 'the engine is actually a very rare and valuable piece of archaeotech', ma'am."

The Arbitrator's voice is deadpan. He does not sound amused, but neither does he sound irritated by Fiona's nonsense. He sounds simply... patient.

As he speaks, he hands her a hand-written note, with several interesting requests for that which, considering her knowledge of the Imperial Creed, she would know is used to sanctify weapons and armour.

"The Emperor protects," he whispers.

2012-10-25, 03:58 PM
"Why, the dashing hero of the Imperium, Luff Budregard! With his hair and his armour! Standing atop a mound of xenos corpses, leveling his sight on Grufkins from across the Void, just daring Grufkins to appear in this sector. 'Just you come,' he'd dare." The grin spread across her face betrayed the fantasy. The ex-judge spoke, but Fiona ignored him.

"Or maybe this isn't a Budregard story. Hmm... maybe it's our story! With Lord-Captain Tybalt Der Cour leading the charge against Grufkins the Destroyer, wielding a piece of adamantine from the hull of a ship Grufkins ripped apart on his own, and our captain waves it in defiance of the Destroyer!"

2012-10-25, 04:03 PM
I like it, miss Fiona.
You see a sparkel in his eyes when Fiona tells her stories.
You should come to my quarters once and met my daughter. She would love to hear some fantastic stories of yours
He tells her while he smiles almost like he sees his little girl talk.

2012-10-25, 04:33 PM
Haddo moves quietly around the edge of the room heading towards the heavy set Arbite. "Your views sound most interesting Commander. Perhaps we could discuss or debate them further at dinner? I brought on of House Cassini's finest cooks."

The arbite sounds philsophical

At Fiona's comments he nods and remembers to send some notes to her datapad at a later date to request some minor pieces of equipment to help him when he reaches the halo stars...

One of his House Cassini servants will send a small list to her datapad.
* Inferno pistol or Bolt Pistol w/kraken rounds either with a red dot sight
* Conversion field (maybe we can get buy two get one free? :smallsmile:)

2012-10-25, 04:38 PM
"Of course, good sir, the offer is much appreciated."

Gethsemane is polite, yet his voice doesn't quite give away a sense of friendliness. After all, he was an Arbitrator. For some reason his helm is still on, too.

3-5 items gives +20, sounds like 3 for 2!

2012-10-25, 05:08 PM
There is something of a commotion in the corridor outside. You can hear a raised voice, becoming louder with each passing second, reverberating off from the ancient bulkheads, carrying through the slightest of gaps. A deep, basso voice, hinted with the tones of one who uses High Gothic as their primary language.

"No, "Lord Captain Black", your offer does not suit me. I am entirely unsure how you managed to gain access to this communique, but rest assured, should your name come up in association with anything involving the words "Halo", "Ship", "Deal", "Eldar" or "Brandy", I will be ensuring my finest man personally attend the duty of punching your face in. He is very large."

The door slides open, and Lord-Captain Tybalt stands before you, arguing with a Servo-Skull. Or that is how it seems.

"End Recording." He motions of of his personal aides, and points to the skull. "Get this to the Astropaths and send the message back to Claudia - the woman will surely drive me insane, one of these days."

He is wearing fairly simple attire - a plain black tunic, black trous, and one of his less-ornamental greatcoats.

"Are we all present and accounted for?"

He glances around the assorted crewmen.

"Close enough. Well, tough sh*t, I'm starting."

"As you all might have twigged, this is no ordinary, ten-a-Throne guncutter that has caught my eye."

He throws down photographs and printouts, a loose handful scattered across the table.

"That," he points to a faded, yet distinctive Der Cour family crest, "that is our guncutter.

It belonged to the Fearless Trailblazer, and if they found the 'cutter, the rest of the ship must be somewhere. We could do with a new ship. Or hell, the scrap would fetch a pretty penny, and even if it didn't, it's my Throne-damn scrap, and I choose its destiny."

He sits in his chair, and pulls a cigar case from a volumnuous pocket of his greatcoat. He takes a hand-rolled stogie, made from one of the only edible plants to grow on Burnscour, not too far from Winterscale's Realm. He whips out his STC-pattern St Zippo (with F*ck Heresy engraved in it - a gaudy little heirloom of his father's), and lights up.

It smells deliscious.

"So - how are we going to take it back?"

2012-10-25, 05:16 PM
Haddon looks at the Captain. "Where was it found Lord Captain and who has it now?". The Navis asks quickly looking at the pictures.

2012-10-25, 05:19 PM
Zerah quickly steps forward, seeing a chance to gain some brownie points, look as if she has initiative and hopefully cover for the fact that she has next to nothing to show.

"Captain! I have information that might help. The Adeptus Mechanius onboard your fine ship has been mighty busy with looking into recordings and transmissions.

Now, it's not exactly been easy, that cartel is very, very good at what they do, but they're no match for honest tech priests."

She nods firmly. "So we ran a double standard trace along the line connectors that the satellite uses for hooking up with its navi-boards and comn channels. Had to be careful there, 'course, don't want anyone getting wind of what we've been up to. It bounced a little off the primary buffer panels, but nothing we couldn't handle, and we tracked the little sprite all the way down to the secondary processors."

The enginseer beams with as much pride as she can summon, given the role she's been lumbered with, and taps one of the datapads she bought, a recording coming forth. The contents of the recording are mostly of a man’s bland recital of a steadily increasing number of thrones, and then a terse acknowledgement of his having won the bid.

Zerah considers for a moment, then nods. "So. That's what we found."

2012-10-25, 05:23 PM
How are they going to take it back? Gethsemane tilts his head at this question. The Lord-Captain wasn't planning on paying for it, it seemed. Good, he shouldn't pay to reclaim his own possessions; buying something you already owned seemed foolish to him.

Having already stood up, and stood to attention to boot, Joshua Gethsemane answers his Lord-Captain's question with one of his own statements.

Being rather large, it's immediately obvious who he is talking about when he answers.

"Lord-Captain? I would suggest you send one of your finest to punch his face in.

I'll personally volunteer: I believe I'm large enough."

If it wasn't for the blasted visor he was wearing, everyone else would be sure he winked at Fiona and Lucius when he turned his head to look at them after he spoke.

2012-10-25, 05:28 PM
Tybalt leans on the table.

"Enginseer Zerah, you know I appreciate your work, and the works of the Mechanicus n board this ship. But, honestly, I have no idea what you just said."

"Haddon - the most inforation we got from Troika-Sigma-445 was that it was found "in space", presumably just having fallen off the back of a grav-truck. And, they won't release information on who they sold it to."

Henry the 57th
2012-10-25, 05:28 PM
"Do we know who it is that won the bid and where they are? If so, I propose simply barging in and taking it, at gunpoint, if necessary, assuming they're not more powerful than we are."

2012-10-25, 05:34 PM
Wel if you say it is yours, then we will claim it back, capt'n. And if it's worth some thrones that is most fortuitious He tabs with his fingers on the table, just smiling when Zerah shows her foundings to the captain.
So, what is the plan, I need to prepare myself and get me some real guns, with your permission capt'n as he tabs on the guns at his belt.

2012-10-25, 06:27 PM
Fiona smiled as the Lord-Captain entered and held court. There was little information she had which she hadn't already provided to Lord Der Cour, and none of the questions were those she would answer without his explicit permission. Instead she took notes, as was her way, and began to create a plan in her head. Determining who ran the black market satellite would be difficult, if not impossible. If they could obtain the vox transmission between the buyer and the satellite, then it might be possible to intercept the sale before it was completed. But that would probably be impossible.

Without knowing who was responsible for the buying or the selling, and with such a limited frame of time, Fiona was at something of a loss of what to do next. She could pull on her connections in the underworld, see what could be groused up, but there was no guarantee there. If she understood what Lucius meant, he was asking for time to buy things. There probably wasn't such time at this moment -- again, with the time frame shrinking on when the trade might take place, it would be hard to have time to do anything. Even planning would be tough -- every second was one less that they had.

The trade would most likely be performed outside of two hundred thousand kilometers of Footfall. They would need to be that far to avoid active detection. But still, it would be worthwhile to document the various ships currently moving away, and obtain their callsigns and such. That information wasn't particularly hard to alter, but it could be useful regardless. The passive augurs of the Nostalgia would allow for such detection without the tell-tale auspex flare. There was no harm in the action.

The Nostalgia could probably outrun any ship trying to flee, but outside of teleporting on board and wrecking the ship from the inside out, whoever they were pursuing could probably out-gun the nimble little transport. Scythia's comment concerning being more powerful than the prey was silly. Of course they weren't -- not unless they were going toe to toe in person. Ship-wise, the macrocannons that bristled on the exterior of the vessel were useful but not excessively so.

She trained her attention on the Lord-Captain and waited for him to either require information on something or look for suggestions. There wasn't any reason to cloud the air with her speculation if he had more relevant information to react to, after all.

2012-10-26, 12:36 AM
As the vox recording was replayed Haddon twitched slightly, eyes darting between the vox and the the armoured Arbite. "Commander Gethsemane, where do you call home. That voice on vox had the same accent as yours?"

Haddon shrugs slightly, "If someone in the know of such things can tally wealth with the rich people known to be here it may help us.

Also only a rich individal could afford the cutter. What other Rogue Traders are in port, maybe one is connected to the Fearless Truth?"

Most of the queries lead to all 3 of his eyes turning to Fiona...

2012-10-26, 01:22 AM
Fiona mulled the information over in her jaw before finally speaking in carefully chosen words, still tinged with Street Gothic.

"I'm not sure I hear the accent in our Arbite companion as in the recording, but... if it's the case, there may be someone on Footfall who can lead us to where we want to go." Fi typed out a message and sent it to the bridge. SCAN IDENTIFICATION FOR ALL SHIPS. TALLY AND COLLATE. RETURN HERE. "There is a man, someone by the name of Thrask. He could be the buyer of the guncutter. If that's the case, we can get to him through the Kroot's Boot -- an establishment, one I haven't had the pleasure of visiting but one I greatly admire for its name -- and through a certain... persuasive friend of mine. I'll send her a message if you wish to pursue this, m'Lord Der Cour."

She turned to meet the gaze of the navigator. "If this man did facilitate the purchasing of the ship, then it would be on behalf of the Vill Dynasty. I imagine this is something of a ruse, however -- purchasing agents are normally intelligent. This one has made many small mistakes. Enough to make me suspicious. I've sent word to the master of etherics to obtain the listings of the ships in port. Our passive scanners will not set off alarms. If there are any Vill ships in the area, we can take stock of them, perhaps make use of the teleportarium and preemptively set safe-guards and fail-safes. A few thousand spare kilos of promethium with a kilometer trigger should be useful, for instance. If strategic placed, especially.

"If we can use Leora -- that's the bartender of the Kroot's Boot -- to lure our friend to the establishment with promises of sexual favors, we may be able to spirit him away and break his fingers until such a time as he sees fit to deliver the information on where the guncutter is being delivered. If he runs out of fingers before he does willpower, kneecaps can be employed. Ankles, a snapping of the foot in half, slowly moving up the shin bone. There are a great many bones made for breaking. And should that be untenable, the flensing of flesh from muscle and application of salt should be enough to break him. If not... well, we will have learned something about the competence of the Vill dynasty's officers, and I will have to tip my hat to them. Oh! He could have an implant to convert pain to some other sensation. Perhaps Zerah will be so kind as to examine him before we begin the breaking of parts. The unanesthetized removal of something that prevented the brain from feeling pain should be a nice start to the discussion."

She smiled faintly. "This is, of course, speculation based solely on a potential similarity in accents. I will set this in motion if you so desire it, m'Lord Der Cour."

2012-10-26, 02:13 AM
LJ looks at Fiona,

The Kroot's Boot? I know that place! Would be a perfect place for a seedy deal like this. If you alouw me to explain. It is a very crowdy bar, no guns aloud and lot of private areas for rent. It would be just the spot for this. I could lead you there and know the in and outs of the place.

LJ looks like old memories come to mind. I used to come there alot when I was doing some missions back then.

He stands up and walks towards Fiona. I Suppose you would love such control over your victims, but I think this should be handled quick and undetected. So no use of torture unless it is really necessary. If this Leora Woman is a 'friend' of yours we could maybe get some weapons in which can we enough to make our point. If you prefer not to involve her with this we could bring some firearms with us. I would just recoomand a good looking lady as yourself *wink* nto to take any weapons with you at all. They do have the habbit to exstensivly body search pretty girls. Unless you can't handle that? A teasing smile covores his face. nothing pervy just enjoying the thought a bit of Fiona without weapons which he presumes feel naked for her.

He turns to the captain.
m'Lord as i said, I know this place. Security would be no match for us if it comes to it and in the crowd we could hide in plain sight.

2012-10-26, 03:06 AM
Zerah gives Gethsemane a glance, as she, too compares his voice to the one on the recording. She then turns back to the Captain. "Ah, yes Captain, sorry. But, we found the recording. Their systems are tangled though, I don't think we can get more in turn."

She falls silent as they dicuss the Kroot's boot, before cheerfully speaking up herself. "Well, I don't know 'bout the name Kroot's Boot Fi, or what that means, but I can understand trying to track someone down. This bar, tavern, oh, whatever name you give to places like it, does it have cameras, security systems? If I can persaude them, they might be willing to share some of that footage with me."

2012-10-26, 05:00 AM
"Thank you, Fiona - that would be a good start. Contact him as soon as possible. I haven't frequented the Kroot's Boot in many a year... it will be nice to return."

He takes a long, thoughtful draw on his cigar, and exhales a cloud of acrid blue-green smoke.

"We have little to go on here, but I hope we might find something of use. I want as many avenues of information as we can cobble together within the next 2 hours.

Fiona - tally those reports, tell me who, when, and where, for each ship in the appropriate timeframe. Sift the records for anything that might help us link one of these ships to the auction.

Haddon - could you perhaps use the information Fiona tallies to track the movements of suspect ships through the Warp? Perhaps we might find something useful in the Empyrean echoes of their passage..."

Another draw.

"LJ, Sythius - if guns are frowned upon, I want you to check the armoury for anything we can smuggle in. Small calibre handguns, shock sticks, digital weapons - anything that might give us an edge. Try and find a cadre of men trained in unarmed combat, too - and equip a ferw men to wait outside, heavily armed but inconspicuous, in case things go South.

Zerah - work with Fiona to ensure the veracity of her findings, and to provide any technical assisstance you can.

Gethsemane - do you have any contacts in Footfall?

I also want a general alert out for any men willing to operate a little "undercover" mission - head down to Footfall, get people talking. Maybe keep an eye on the Kroot's Boot, in case we need some backup, or in case there's anything suspicious going on."

Henry the 57th
2012-10-26, 08:20 AM
"So, we have our plan. Is that it then?"

2012-10-26, 08:53 AM
Fiona noted that Lucius thought he could give her commands concerning weaponry and torture. "By your leave, m'Lord, I'll begin moving through the data."

2012-10-26, 09:14 AM
He stands Besides his comrade Syhtius when the captain gives his orders. LJs face is turning more serious but the sparkle in his eye remains. He likes to joke around, but when it comes to duty or commands from his fellow crewmembers and his captain he won't hassitate and will be at service the best way he can. When it comes to missions which may involve killing or be killed there is no room for jokes, just a matter of doing what you do best.

I will get my equipment and say my familiy goodbye for today. Fiona. After this mission I would be most delighted to celebrate our succes at my quarters. I will tell my love to prepare a feast. You are all most welcome in my humble quarters by the time we are done.

He salutes the captain and nods friendly to those who are not going with him to the armoury.

See you in a bit

And with a smile on his face and a sparkle of enthousiasm he walks towards the door and waits for Sythius to come along.

2012-10-26, 09:20 AM
Zerah nods herself, eyes keen beneath her hood. "I can run some codifying through all the data, see about those ships right down to the keel and what's been put into them. Maybe where the hulls and sections were constructed an if that matches the patterns we're looking for."

She offers Fiona what may be a steady look. "But it's not right to harm or destroy the ships because their crew is against us. That's not right Fi." She shakes her head. "But, maybe.. hm, if we put containers of gas in the right places, it'd blow right through their air supply."

Her tone brightens. "Would that be a good way to deal with it if they cause us trouble? The right mixture will have them asleep for hours and let us capture the ships if we need." She continues to ramble as she turns to follow Fiona out of the room.

2012-10-26, 10:20 AM
Sythius, Lucius:

You leave the room and move down to the ship’s armory together, already chatting about what you know is available. The armsman on duty there is bored to tears, and happy to show you what he has, pleased by the break in his monotonous routine. He bustles off in search of a few other pieces he remembers being secreted in a weapons locker down on Deck 3, while the two of you argue good-naturedly about the comparative merits of the Taur-pattern snub-nosed stub revolver versus a Mark IV Dervish laspistol.

You soon have several kinds of suitable pistols, an array of knives, and a few telescoping batons spread out on a table before you:

Silenced Stub Automatics
Good-quality Stub Revolvers
Good-quality Knives
Good-quality Truncheons

Zerah, Haddon:

Fiona shows you her list. Your heart sinks as you realize it’s a list of all the larger ships in Footfall. There’s several pages of it. Small text. Some have names, some don't have names obvious on their registry or ident beacons. Most you don't recognise off the top of your head. Some are broadcasting what their business is, some are not. Looks like the traffic of any other busy day in Footfall, with a couple of interesting but probably irrelevant tidbits. Two Imperial Navy destroyers are here, you're not sure why. Very badly damaged. Maybe they've decided to obtain repairs here rather than brave the long journey home in their weakened state. A stryxis trading caravan is present, which is also unusual in that they've come directly to Footfall, but not totally unheard of. Several ships are loading on colonists for a settling expedition to the Foundling Worlds. Three ships Fiona reckons belonging to the Winterscale dynasty apparently just warped out together, at the same time. Other than that, it's the usual crowd of salvagers and scavengers, explorers, Rogue Trader vessels, pilgrim ships, AdMech survey vessels... sorting through this stuff without more specific filters is a mammoth task.

You don't recognize any major vessels from the Vill dynasty present, apart from a thoroughly gutted transport taking on new crew and awaiting the arrival of a new captain.

Zerah, Fiona, Haddon:

You set to tackling your exceedingly big brief. You decide to start with the single Vill transport currently in dock. You quickly establish it’s no threat to anyone. Its plasma drive is cold, it’s being ripped up and refit, and your augers only pick up a skeleton crew aboard. Several of the decks are irradiated. Several are exposed to vacuum. Zerah checks and rechecks the readings, and establishes to her own satisfaction that if this is some kind of elaborate ruse, it’s a ruse they’ve destroyed a warp-capable transport to achieve. Fiona recalls the scuttlebutt as a Iniquity pirate attack. If the guncutter is being transferred here, it will be doing so under its own power, and the transport will not shield it from your augurs. You place it on watch, just in case, and the crew will notify you of any traffic larger than a repair tug that attempts to dock with it.

The only other Vill ship you believe to be nearby is the Sanguinary Widowmaker, a Havoc-class merchant raider, currently making good on some workmanlike salvaging contracts out in the Battlefield. You pool your collective knowledge: Fiona knows her captain is Tanna Vill, the youngest daughter of Arlock Vill. She has a reputation as an aggressive, reckless firebrand with a chip on her shoulder and a lot to prove. She’s only two or three days away. Maybe less, if she’s already in transition back to Footfall. Haddon knows the Navigator on board. In contrast to the lean, mean captain, he’s a bloated, personable fellow, who seems to lack for friends and enjoy having someone to talk to. You know from stories he’s told that he’s capable of seeing signs of a warp-capable vessels passage with his Warp Eye, much like you are. Zerah once had a brief conversation with an engiseer on that ship, and knows that it was retrofitted to sport a large barracks with a fully operational training deck, for a troop transportation contract that they wound up not winning. It’s armsmen are well-trained and well-armed.

Beyond that… who knows, basically. A cursory search easily turns up half a dozen guncutters docked around Footfall, but none of them match the description of yours. There are also one or two hollowed out asteroids where people can rent secure space for their shuttles or guncutters, and a few privately owned, sheltered launches. Plus over a hundred larger ships with hanger bays it could be in. A search of likely hiding places would be possible, but would take far too long. The other possibility is sitting and waiting until the guncutter is brought into the open to be sold, actively scanning for it until it appears, and then pouncing, but that has obvious dangers.

De Cour, Gethsemane:

You run through a list of several reliable armsmen who seem to fit the profile of likely clubbers who could accompany you, but having lots of armed men ready to storm the place in an emergency will be difficult. It’s a rough section of Footfall, but it’s also small, and there’s few places where a large group of strange, armed men could hang around inconspicuously. A large mass of bodies might interfere with the teleportariums targeting, too. The best that could be done is that you create reserve teams ready to beam in and swarm to your rescue if things go wrong, but they may take some time to arrive. From Gethsemane’s arbiter experience, a place with this location seems like it’d be a pain in the ass to stake out.

You also need to consider how many men you can take without arousing suspicion or tipping off the man you intend to catch.

2012-10-26, 11:06 AM
Zerah has tirelessly worked through the mounds of data they've accessed, cross-referencing across the board and only pause to go into excited rants about particulary fine ships or systems their search highlights. With the exception of those outbursts, she's moved through the information steadily and settles as they finish, receiving a data report from Lucius and then finding Fiona to share the results.

"That place you talked about, the Kroot's Boot? What is a Kroot, Fi..? Anyway, its cameras are all closed off. It's good for keeping the systems secure, but the machine spirits must be isolated something awful. I can access them, but only if I'm there myself to introduce myself, and that means being in a shaft next to the club."

2012-10-26, 11:22 AM
Fiona, directly after the meeting, made a message to someone. What that message said will be elaborated on after a certain private message is answered. While she was sifting through the data, listening to Zerah and grinning as her Adeptus Mechanicus friend chattered away on tech, Fi thought about the next move for the ship.

Then Zerah asked her a question. "Kroot are these weird icky xenos. Lots of like really thick hair that looks like what happens if you don't wash your hair often enough. And they're blue, I've heard, but not like super blue, but a more light blue. Mixed with gray, maybe. So their boots would be, y'know, really important because any xenos that want to walk need to have boots. I guess the proprietor of the establishment found one?

"As for the cameras... it would be nice to remove any prying eyes from us, y'know? We could do with a bit of secrecy on the matter. Would you be able to convince the Machine Spirits to forget what they witnessed?"

2012-10-26, 11:31 AM
"Ack, can't stand the things, any of them." She lowers her voice to a conspirasing whisper. "They do really bad things to machine spirits. They beat them, force them to work and don't take care of them. It's horrible Fi, how can anyone name a bar after them?"

Zerah nods firmly. "I'll talk to them and explain. If they're used as badly as I think they are, I'm sure I can persaude them to help us and I'll try soothing them as much as I can."

Henry the 57th
2012-10-26, 11:33 AM
"And I'm telling you," said Sythius as he strapped laspistols, autopistols, and knives to hidden spots on his armor, "That laspistols are superior because of the ease of ammunition acquisition. If I'm away from resupply and run out o autopistol ammunition, I'm fragged. But if I run out of las charge, I can recharge it from almost any generator, solar energy, or even an ordinary fire! It's that ability that allows unprecedented freedom of movement, away from resupply points. Thus, the laspistol is superior."

2012-10-26, 04:09 PM
That might be, but is it all about efficiancy? The revolver is not just a pistol, it is a old piece of craftmanship and very relieable. It's a mtter of taste in which I would choose for a clean shot with he revolver which is a worthy death for my opponents.

He salutes the guards as they walk in.
Hello there, Bob. Long day is it? (if it is possible I know the guy. If I am too high in rank to give a damn or if there are too many guards in this ship to know one face from another I will just salute as I always do to anyone on board)

He inspects the weapons and picks up a knife.
I think it is best to take some of these. not that large easy to hide. Though it is not very efficient and I don't like Fiona to find a use for them in some way I don't approve of.

Henry the 57th
2012-10-26, 05:11 PM
"If you want to give someone a "worthy death", suit yourself. I plan on living." Sythius packs several clips of auto and las ammo. "And I doubt you bringing or not bringing these knives will stop Fiona from doing what she wants to this poor unfortunate soul."

Sythius merely nods at the guard on the way out. "Superior officers should not salute subordinates unless they have done something truly worthy of it."

2012-10-26, 05:34 PM
Keeps them loyal and they feel like you are personally interested in them, some day it might save your life. And as a matter of fact I do, call me soft but every men on this vessel is important to me as long they are on our side.

He throws the knife into the air where it flips over and lands perfectly in the hand of LJ, like he is checking its balance.
Than we better keep them close and hope she doesn't do anything stupid like bring some of her own. it will compromaise our cover as fun tourists or it will at least cause enough trouble to make ourself known.
He grunts and takes the other daggers. Don't get me wrong I fully trust her to do her job, I jsut cannot fully figure her out. I just wish I knew her better

He pauses for a moment waiting for Sythius to take any weapons of his choice.
If this is all for now, I wish to go to my quarters and say my familiy farewel before we report back tot he captain. If you wish you can come with me, Leah makes delicious tea around this time of day

(The salute is more touch the tip of you finger against you forehead)

2012-10-26, 05:48 PM
At the request of the Captain Haddon heads down to the navigation chamber and activates the almae astronomicus. The room expands into a whirling sphere of green glittering planetoids, asteroids and red and yellow dotted trails of vessels and their routes.

Even as he studies the real sapce routes he opens the third eye fully embracing the swirling maelstrom of the warp as he begins to perceive the warp as he aways does as the towering paved streets of a decript feudal town. The warpstorms manifesting as cracked and haunted ruins with slime coated dark shadows while the stable warp routes appeared as wide open well lit and paved streets in between the wood and tile houses with strange eyes and villanous watchers from the empty windows.... He could feel the tracks of the other vessels. Intruders in his towns.

He worked quickly seeking patterns, intersections or hints that warp trails led towards the halo stars where the Fearless truth was lost...

Rolls in OOC
Navigate - Stellar: 6 DoS
Navigate - Warp: 8 DoS
Tracks in the Stars: 4 DoS

Henry the 57th
2012-10-26, 05:50 PM
"Then I pity you should you come up against the Night Lords. One of their favorite things is to torture prisoners to death on live vidcast."

Sythius jams a few more clips of ammo and some backup pistols into hidden spots of his armor as they leave. "If you think you can keep knives of all things from that woman, then you really don't know her. As to who she is? A stalker in the shadows, cold and ruthless. Don't be fooled by her public persona. She cares nothing for anything save her own goals, whatever they may be."

Sythius considers it for a moment, before deciding the knowledge might be useful some day. "Alright. Tea it is."

2012-10-26, 06:06 PM
I indeed horror the idea of someone do that to just anyone. Torture is for the desperate and honorless. And About Fiona, I just seek a sparkle Humanity on which i can build my trust. I do not believe in emotionless machines, how good they may be at what they do. I hope we will each earn the others respect when served in the line of battle together, maybe the situation will show her true colors.
I like this Zerah girl. She is caring and pure, almost naive you could say. I think I could learn alot from her about the spirit within the steel.

You got everything you need, I will tell leah you are coming up

Henry the 57th
2012-10-26, 06:50 PM
"I'd suggest you not say things like that near the Holy Inquisition. Or the Commissariat. Or the Mechanicus. Or the Arbiters. Or really just about anyone in the Emperor's Imperium. Torture is a weapon, the same as everything else. In the case of the Night Lords, they do it to cause terror among our ranks, and because they like it. You can't give in to fear or sympathy or you'll be joining your comrades shortly thereafter."

"Whether or not you believe in emotionless machines is hardly relevant. They exist. I doubt you'd believe in the Night Lords until you met them. The way you act, you'd probably try to convince them of their goodness or some such drek. Then you'd end up the next poor fool crucified and screaming on the front of their battle tanks."

Sythius snorts. "Please. She's a low-ranking adept and will remain such until she gives up her emotion and embraces the logic of the machine. Look at anyone of rank in the Mechanicus and you'll see they're nothing like her."

2012-10-26, 07:26 PM

Your eyelid flickers and then peels back like the skin of a fruit as you open your Warp Eye, allowing you to see the oscillating trails of warp drives as they glide through the stars. You marvel at the raw beauty of the Warp, wondering, not for the first time, how you could possibly explain what you see. The best you can come up with is that there are fourteen different kinds of colours. Not merely fourteen different colours; fourteen distinct ways of experiencing colour as a concept. Baseline humans tend to stare at you when you say things like this.

Though tracking specific vessels through the warp in Footfall is like trying to find a particular man's bootprint in the mud after a farmer's market held during a rainy day, you have the ship move out to the distance where vessels normally move to warp away, and do your best from there.

Hard to say for certain, but you're reasonably sure that even though it's a busy day in port, no vessels recently headed out towards the Halo stars near where the Fearless Trailblazer was lost. Such expeditions have grown out of fashion lately, and will likely remain so until some bright spark decides that he will make a fortune looting forgotten xeno worlds where others fear to tread, and succeeds enough at it that it starts to seem like a good idea again. Then a couple of dynasties will lose some ships or their entire fortunes, people will decide that looting xeno worlds is a foolhardy venture, and start favoring other endeavours instead. Such is the way of things.

2012-10-26, 08:01 PM
Fiona tapped her microbead, toggling the Lord-Captain. "Lord Der Cour, Trask will be in the Kroot's Boot in a half hour. He's a half hour ahead of schedule, I'm afraid, but he had plans to attend the bar earlier than we had anticipated. I apologize, but wished to inform you."

2012-10-27, 12:17 AM
"The man on the recording sounds like he is, indeed, from my home: Maccabeus Quintus..."

The Arbitrator sounds intrigued. Most Maccabeans abroad were usually preachers or Guardsmen. He didn't personally know the voice, but did recognise the accent, after all.

"Are the Maccabean Janissaries stationed here? Perhaps the local priests would know more, too..."

The Judge pauses momentarily. Then comes to a quick conclusion.

"We could speak to the local Maccabean preachers, yes. With a small donation of supplies, they may help us find our thief."

2012-10-27, 04:30 AM
They Go to the quarters of LJ. Leah has made some delicious tea and warmly welcomes Sythius as a most honored guest and friend of Lucius. As we sit on the couch drinking and maybe a little talking, little Lucia plays at our feet with model starships
wrroommmm, Lord Dinidan (she cannot pronounce your name very wel) they are boarding the ship! Oh noo!!! I take my gun piewwpeww!! die mutants, don't take my ship!!
It's kinda adorable how she after Lucius introduced you, she sees you as some mighty captain.
Leah, Dear it is time to go, I do not wish the captain to be waiting for us.
It was a pleasure! She friendly smiles towards Suthius ans she lifts up Lucia. Come sweety, enough playing for now, time to do some schoolwork!

If Sythius is fime with it they go back to the captain.

2012-10-27, 04:45 AM
Haddon finishes and slowly, sadly closes the warp eye as the swirling madness and beauty of the warp fade away i his mind leaving nothing but the dull matt washed colours of real space behind.

Strange. He spoke quietly to himself. None of the ships intersecting, no ripples in the warp. How strange indeed.

Activating his microbead he linked in Fiona and the Lord Captain. "It would seem that there are no warp trails and no suspicious interesections between the any of the vessels in port. What next?"

Henry the 57th
2012-10-27, 10:09 AM
"Of course." Throughout the encounter, it has been quite clear Sythius has no idea what he should be doing, and has mostly let everyone else do all the talking.

2012-10-27, 10:20 AM
Zerah looks to Fiona as a thought occurs. "If we are going to visit this bar and have me speak to the systems there, can you show me any images and information on VII dynasty members, or people who work for the auction you have? I've an idea."

2012-10-27, 02:36 PM
Fiona smiled at the tech-adept. "You want to convince the cameras that they saw someone of the Vill dynasty, or from the auction, right? That could be worse than having the machine spirits see nothing -- what if we make the Lord Vill image appear, and then Lord Vill sees it himself? He'd end up knowing right then and there that there was a ruse."

2012-10-27, 05:24 PM
Tybalt swears to himself. He was running on a ridiculously tight schedule, but he needed to find that ship. Opportunities like this didn't come along every day...

"Then we'll be there within the hour. Have a small contingent, let's say... 5 men, socially capable, and more that willing to put up a good fight should things get messy. Those who wish to attend, please ensure you are suitably attired - we are looking to make an impression. We want to baffle them with grox-**** before we need to resort to violence.

And Fiona... I understand you have a very good way wth such things - any suggestions on how we go about this?"

Tybalt sighed. He had a feeling this would be harder than anticipated.

He disliked the crew thinking he was not in charge, but behind any great man there stands a greater woman - or so his mother had said. While he had charm and intimidation down to pat, Fiona had a calculating mind, and a view totally unlike his. He valued her advice more than he would care to admit.

2012-10-27, 05:30 PM
Haddon smiles at the thought of an outing to see how the regular homo sapiens lived - the poor cousins of the homo navis. Finding his pistol he slips it under his belt and dons a non-descript but well cut grey and black suit over the thinly woven xeno-mesh. Taking a deep breath and with a black cap pulled low over his 3rd eye he moves to join the Captain and the others at the launch bay.

Henry the 57th
2012-10-27, 05:34 PM
"How baffling? Full carapace suit baffling? Or would you prefer "power armored giant toting a lascannon" baffling?"

2012-10-27, 05:50 PM
Zerah blinked, and then shook her head. "No, no. It'd just be me asking them if they remember seeing anyone like that. I don't think they will have, but it's possible."

2012-10-27, 07:30 PM
She nodded and would provide Zerah and such pictures if she had them available.This is up to SlyJohnny. Without an internet analogue, I don't think things like pictures are all that easy to come by. :smallfrown:

Excusing herself for a moment, Fiona moved away from the others and moved to an empty room off the main corridor, a few meters and several walls between where she had been before. She listened to the Lord-Captain and then the Master of Ordinance before replying, again only toggling the Lord-Captain. Fiona knew discretion. "I can wear the synsuit and nothing over it, if you're hoping for that particular sort of impression. Or I can go with the carapace, as Sythius mentioned. It is your call, m'Lord. I must advise you strongly against having Sythius go in his ridiculous power armour.

"As for going ahead with this, m'Lord, in what way do you mean? I can advise a general strategy for what to do once we arrive at the Kroot's Boot, or I can advise simply what the crew ought to do in immediate preparation for the visit. Or, if m'Lord desires, I can set out an exceedingly precise plan with several contingencies branching from the main plan. It is your choice, m'Lord. Please let me know how I may be of greater service."

Fiona will be wearing her synskin and camo cloak no matter what. Whether she puts on the actual armour depends on her LC's will. She'll probably use Disguise on herself before heading out, so I'll roll for that once I've read up on it. As far as weapons go, without having any stealthy weapons either up for grabs or in her inventory, Fiona will go without any. What's the Kroot's Boot's hard and fast rule? I can't recall. If they're okay with 'status symbols,' then she'll bring the archeotech laspistol. Few things are as flaunty as a best-craftsmanship archeotech laspistol, after all.

2012-10-28, 05:12 AM
"No man, not even on Footfall, would dare to suggest that an officer of the Adeptus Arbites should relinquish his instruments of law."

It's obvious that Commander Gethsemane doesn't feel like dolling up and dressing like some pansy noble. Still, he does continue, slightly more helpfully,

"If that is a problem, I will pay a visit to my fellow Maccabeans whilst you investigate the bar. You should be able to contact me in case of emergency."

2012-10-28, 05:25 PM
"Simply more options, Fiona. You have such a wonderful mind, crafted for such situations...

I had planned to simply throw my weight around, act the true Rogue Trader, as it were... make a few threats, wait and see if he let anything slip... then, if that failed, outright threats. Then torture. I'd like things to stick to that order, but you never know...

Also, Fiona - Kroot. Should we need to torture this poor fellow, I like the idea of hiring a Kroot to do it. Those knives of theirs are so sharp... and nothing conveys the importance of this information like having his torturer eat him alive for not giving it up..."

He flex the cold steel of his right hand, feeling a ghostly twitch in tendons long removed. Such thoughts appauled him, of course, but he knew how to strike fear into the hearts of others - especially those less versed with Xenos. The presence of a Kroot should be enough to swing things, never mind the torture.

2012-10-29, 12:40 AM
The seneschal nodded. "I doubt there's actually a Kroot at the Kroot's Boot, m'Lord -- it sounds more like an epithet than a landmark -- but if you so desire, cavorting with xenos could be arranged. The more puritanical of the officers may have reservations concerning it, and I would be distraught to see some animal perform the interrogation as opposed to doing it myself, but both of these are minor qualms that take nothing more than a stern look to correct. As for simply revealing who you are...

"Revealing that we've compromised the anonymity of Troika-Sigma-445 -- that is to say, going up to the target and simply saying hello, revealing that we a party bidding against him -- could be damaging to our reputation and prevent us from adequately utilizing the satellite again. That is simply something to consider. You asked for options, m'Lord, and I will not simply provide contrarian statements. Options. We could utilize our teleportarium and teleport beacons in order to remove him from the bar with a minimal fuss. That would allow you to pursue the social options of revealing who you are without compromising our future relations with Troika-Sigma-445. This, of course, presumes Thrask will not survive the meeting.

"We could also attempt to get the fellow drunk and offer our services to him as 'additional muscle.' I'm unsure how that line of inquiry would go, but I'm sure Sythius or Gethsemane would be able to sell the idea. Perhaps we could even stage a little fight, something of a play-act, to make Thrask believe his life is in danger? That could win his favor swiftly.

"Additionally, we might wish to bribe him to our side, although that may prove difficult. Any man who sells his employer out for another employer proves himself untrustworthy. I would caution m'Lord from cavorting with such cretin.

"I am unfamiliar with the technology, but if Zerah had some marvel that she could provide for us, we might be able to track Thrask to where he is going to receive the guncutter. That would only require that we palm the item into a pocket of his, perhaps after buying him a drink or moving in to whisper some lascivious thought into his ear.

"We could act as the Adeptus Arbites, moving in to arrest the man and challenging anyone who would stand against us with the might of the Imperium of Man. That would be difficult, thanks to our current location, but Gethsemane would most likely be familiar with the proper code of conduct in the matter. Thanks to our resources, it would seem rather first-rate. Comes with having an ex-judge on staff.

"Zerah believes she can communicate with the security devices of the Kroot's Boot. If that's the case, she may be able to disable it or erase us from the machine spirits' memory. If there is an automated system for fire extinguishing or security -- servitors or something of the sort -- she may be able to trigger it and selectively protect Thrask. In the panic, we could obtain his person and remove him from the premises.

"I'm afraid those are the only additional solutions that come to mind at present, m'Lord. I do request that I be allowed to infiltrate the Kroot's Boot first, and then that we stagger the entrance of the crew as to avoid drawing attention. I can pay off Leora and have her point Thrask out to me before anyone else enters, thus preventing us from missing any tells from the agent of Vill. How the rest of the crew dresses depends entirely on what avenue of approach m'Lord wishes to take."

2012-10-29, 05:44 AM
"Very well. Get yourself down there. The idea of masquerading as Arbites is somwhat risky - that's a death sentence if we're caught out. Even with my power and influence, the Arbites will not make life easy for me...

But we could certinly try and create a distraciton with Zerah's tlents with the Machine Spirits. It would be like we were never there... and, if we make a distraction, we can just pull him "to safety". Can we arrange him to be hurt, but not killed? We could then bring him abaord under the pretence of healing him...

And yes, there may not be a Kroot in the Kroot's Boot, but this is Footfall - there's always plenty of those beaked horrors around."

2012-10-29, 07:02 AM
Finding the captain he waits patiently before gently inquiring about the course of action. Even without weapons he is relaxed. Few men can bear the warp eye's gaze before flinching, or melting.

2012-10-29, 09:05 AM
"Lord-Captain... it's not technically masquerading as Adeptus Arbites if an individual is an Arbitrator... and the individual may have knowledge regarding a crime.

Technically, it falls outwith Adeptus Arbites jurisdiction, however, the fact that the...."

Gethsemane clears his throat a little at this point...

"...victim... is a Peer of the Imperium itself, it will grant me some legal rights. I may be retired, but..."

He taps the badge on his chest. It looks like they get to keep the uniform too.

2012-10-29, 10:48 AM
After tea and saying goodbye to his wife and daughter LJ reports back to the captain. He has some pistols with him and some knifes. Also the two guns he normally wears are hidding underneath his robe. He now wears the old caparage armour of his father but left his SoloMK II Boltgun at his quarters. Some extra thick and luxuary robes make him look very prestigious and will conseal his weapon better.

My Lord and friends. I and Sythius found some weapons which will protect us if needed. Again, know that weapons are not aloud there, but if you hide them well, they on't find them for they never really body search men. he now directly speaks at Fiona My Lady, I think it will be best, and I will do it with great care, if you hand you weapons to me untill we passed the guards and are out of sight where I can give them back to you. It would be my pleasure He really means it and he hopes Fiona likes the way he talks about weapons like they are prestigious and personal items. And she would trust him in taking care of her arsenal (I hope this is the correct word for multiple weapons:smalltongue:)

I think we are good to go if M'Lord agrees.

2012-10-29, 11:53 AM
Fiona toggled her microbead from the private channel with the Lord-Captain to Lucius'. "Continue to think that if you wish, m'Lord, the chance of me handing your my weaponry is extremely slim." The laspistol alone costs more than your lineage, she thought to herself with a smile.

Toggling back to the Lord-Captain, she said, "As a bearer of a Warrant of Trade, your authority beholden to none but our Lord-God, the Emperor of Holy Terra. And His chosen representatives, of course. For the Adeptus Arbites to execute you would be a grave assault -- they might move extralegally to harm you, but legally, unless there is a Writ of Execution from the High Lords of Terra, I don't believe your life will be in jeopardy. Any moreso than it already is, of course.

"You mean for Thrask to be injured but not killed, and then brought aboard on the auspices of receiving treatment? We do not have a specialized medicae deck for that to be a convincing ruse, although it may be easy enough to convince him of it once he's bleeding. Still, injuring him before he is in a confined environment with controlled conditions could be detrimental. Chaos can always turn a glancing wound into a grievous blow."

In the first module for Rogue Trader, there's a note that says that 'Rogue Traders are above such petty charges as murder.' The fluff concurs with this -- it takes a lot before the law can take legitimate, legal actions against the bearer of a Warrant of Trade. :smallbiggrin:

2012-10-29, 12:56 PM
Zerah keeps to the back of the group, taking the chance to check her equipment and hellgun as they talk and plan. A small servo skull floats nearby until she holds out her hand and it settles in her palm. She tucks it under her robes, making use of them to conceal the rest of what she's taking, though that proves impossible with the hellgun and she mentally shrugs, content that most will be carrying weapons where they're going.

Henry the 57th
2012-10-29, 01:38 PM
Sythius stands near the back of the group, waiting patiently for the discussion to end. He fells rather light without his hulking suit of power armor, and he chooses to clean and inspect his weapons for the millionth time. He decides at the last minute that he should probably bring along some extra pistols, just in case. So he simply hides two more laspistols on his person, bringing his total to four.

"Seeing as our friend is supposed to be there soon, might I suggest we move out?"

2012-10-29, 05:23 PM
"Indeed we should move out - I have a shuttle waiting for us."

Tybalt looks to his wardrobe. He finally picks the green greatcoat - it has a distinctly military look, which could be handy depending on their final plan of action. He stashes a small stub-pistol in one of the volumnious pockets, along with a few more cigars.

"I'll get you at Bay 4, ASAP."

No armour - he didn't want to come across as too threatening...

2012-10-29, 06:32 PM
Haddon heads down to the bay at pace. Waiting for the others he grins slightly at the carapace armoured forms. A lovely fashionable look there.

Turning to the Captain. Do we have a plan for when we get to this place Captain?

2012-10-30, 05:22 AM
Than hand it to anyone you wish, I do not want us to risk getting caught with weapons when we enter the club. it is not a matter of giving it to me in person, jsut that you are unarmed as we enter.
He grunts and wispers to himself Mhrr that woman will get us into trouble sometime...
Zerah, I think if you hide your weaponry wel they might not find it.

Captain, I am ready!

2012-10-30, 01:09 PM
Several hours before the others arrive at the bar, Joshua Gethsemane, Arbitrator, pays a visit to the preachers from Maccabeus Quintus...

They were a touch conservative for his taste, he had to admit, he was far more aware of the historical context of the Imperial Creed than they. He also knew that Saint Drusus wasn't quite the type of person they believed him to be.

Still, when thinking of their faith, Gethsemane found it strong. They knew who was right and who was wrong, even if they got the details wrong. They were on his side, and more importantly, they were on the Emperor's side, as far as he was aware.

So, he enters their kirk, making the correct gestures and supplication as he does so. It was all part of growing up on Maccabeus Quintus. They'd probably recognise him as one of their own. He knew the Creed well, and he was from their home. The uniform of an Imperial servant wouldn't hurt either.

"Salutations, brothers of the cloth, followers of Drusus the Twice-Martyred," he says on encountering those at the doorway. It was a very formal greeting, but respectful, and appropriate considering his official appearance.

"Might this humble pilgrim, and servant of the Books of Law, beg a moment of your time?" he asked. His words were in High Gothic the entire time, using the tongue of the Ecclesiarchy; this was generally expected in holy settings, especially amongst those from his homeworld.

Rolling charm [roll0] Not sure of circumstance bonuses. TN 40 otherwise.

2012-11-01, 12:46 AM
Clad in simple clothing over the synskin, a fashionable cloak on her shoulders, Fiona had concealed the laspistol to the best of her abilities, choosing slightly larger-than-necessary clothing and making use of excess space. She would hurry along and make her way to the Kroot's Boot before the rest of the crew got there, as to insinuate herself into the crowd and make contact with Leora before Thrask arrived.

I personally want to make use of the teleportarium, as to get there ASAP, but if that's not an option she'll take a different shuttle from the one with the Lord-Captain and friends. How are concealed weapons being handled? If it's impossible to hide the laspistol, she'll end up taking nothing.

2012-11-01, 07:32 AM

You materialize half a metre above the ground and land deftly in a crouching stance, your heart pounding and your skin tingling, in a large open courtyard. As usual, you can remember being sealed in to the teleportarium room. You remember the hum of strange energies and their emitters coming to life around you, the strange, rhythmic chanting of the tech-priests manning the consoles outside, a sudden taste of acrid metal in your mouth. You don't remember the exact moment you were teleported away. But as you have often felt before, you are haunted by the nagging sense that something else happened to you in between; there's adrenaline coursing through you and your heart rate is elevated. Almost as if you'd just been running from something. Your head and neck throbs slightly, near your cortex implants. You realize you're past due for another checkup with your Magos in the ship's medicae deck.

There's no time to dwell on such things now, though. You check in with the ship, assuring them you arrived safely, and they confirm that you are where they meant to send you. You move through the quiet, drab corridors of the hab block, which are mercifully empty; you've apparently arrived during it's night cycle, and the few inhabitants you catch sight of clearly aren't in a mood to meet strangers.

You hear the club before you see it, the pounding, electronic tones of some type of scuzz music making the wall-panels nearest to you shake. Three bouncers are outside, searching a smiling group of boisterous young men. You tune in to their conversation automatically, learn that they're day-laborers who have just been paid to replace the heat panels of some small craft up in the docking ring, and who think they can string out the work for another few days. A few straight days of guaranteed paying work is apparently cause for a night out.

They're let in ahead of you- one of them surrendering an old stub automatic- and you drift through. The bouncer who pats you down lets his hands linger on your behind, and is (apparently) very concerned about the possibility of you smuggling in a weapon concealed within your cleavage, but you readily take advantage of this and allow his priorities to distract him from where your weapon is actually concealed. You pay for entry, and pass into the club without your weapon being found.

The interior is dinghy, but probably counts as decidedly up-market for this kind of hab. Chrome finish everywhere, red leather stools, fancy tables nailed to the ground. It's fairly busy. People sit in small groups, conversing and drinking, watching the dancing girls (most of whom look like they've seen better days, except for one dark-skinned woman wearing green eyeshadow and gold bangles who looks like she could land a job some place more respectable or at least better-paying than this) or just sitting around, nursing drinks and watching the other patrons. Clientele is almost entirely male. There's stairs leading down to a floor beneath this, where most of the music and noise seems to be coming from.

You spot Leora as you enter, tending the large, circular bar in the center of the room along with two others. Tall woman, redhead, quite stolidly built, seems put-upon and busy. Her eyes drift lazily over the crowd, past the day laborers and over you. Her gaze lets you know that she's seen you, but does not linger on you or make eye contact. She immediately turns away and starts pouring a purple drink into a tall glass for somebody, without having given any sign of recognition or interest in you whatsoever. Sharp girl.

No sign of your quarry. He might be downstairs, but probably hasn't arrived yet. You debate whether to talk to Leora, head downstairs, or merely sit and get a drink and get the measure of this place.


Your group files up into the shuttle. Your pilot checks you're all aboard, takes off, and a few minutes after clearing the launch bay, you're docking with a habitat ring. They send a vox demanding you submit a small amount of payment, then allow you to land the shuttle on a private pad.

The docking ring is quiet, and it's a desperate kind of "wish-we-were-busier" silence. As you move through it, a couple of hopefuls attempts to pester you into allowing them to work on your shuttle- and then, upon learning you don't need repairs, into allowing them to clean it- and some sly looking person wants to sell you some cheap high-grade promethium. The armsmen chosen to accompany you are eager to look good in front of so many of the ship's command crew, and so they enthusiastically discourage the riff-raff from approaching too close, or even from speaking to you, if you so desire.

The freight elevator going down the rock shaft is old and rickety. It takes a full minute of rattling to get you down to the level you want to be on. At one point there's a loud BANG as something jolts it on it's way, and you're probably glad to be out of it. You exit out onto the level of the club and set about finding your way to it. You move through the quiet, drab corridors of a couple of hab blocks, which are mercifully empty; you've apparently arrived during their night cycle, and the few inhabitants you catch sight of clearly aren't in a mood to meet strangers.

You hear the club before you see it, the pounding, electronic tones of some type of scuzz music making the wall-panels nearest to you shake. You arrive about the same time as several others. Day-labourers, a sleazy looking woman in a long leather duster, several young man with matching tattoos who's body language say they are a gang, a few couples, a boisterous group of lads who seem to be armsmen on leave from a frigate called the Sword of Noble Intolerance and determined to have a very damn good time before they ship out to the Expanse tomorrow. Three bouncers are outside, searching each person in turn.

((Please sound off if you're in this party, and describe what armor you're wearing, if any, and if you intend to enter the establishment, roll a Concealment check for each pistol-sized weapon you're carrying. You can make this check untrained.))

Zerah, you trail along with the group. The mood in this spire is grim. Lack of employment opportunities and poor social cohesion and all that. What really saddens you is to see this spire in such a poor state of repair. You know that sometimes your brethren must abandon such places when the situation becomes dangerous or no party is prepared to sponsor their maintenance, but it still doesn't seem right to you that these poor machine spirits must be neglected just because of the comings and goings of different factions of humans. After all, they'll be here long after you're dead and gone, and have served as faithfully as they can all their lives. Why is it fair that their needs must be slaved to the comparatively short-term requirements of people that live here? Why aren't these people more responsible?

You find what you're looking for in the corridor just adjacent to the club, at the trailing end of the line of people waiting to enter. A sealed service tunnel with a covered numeric keypad lock, mercifully unvandalized. It's incomprehensible to you, but some people seem to take delight in casually destroying or defacing such devices, after your brethren move on from an area and cease pressing the local authorities to take action to protect such delicate, vulnerable exposed machinery.

You quickly uncover the lock and enter the standard factory-setting code for this model, and find it hasn't been changed; the machine-spirit will grant you ready access, and you won't have to hack the keypad to gain entry. You will, however, have to remove the bulky panel from the corridor and squeeze in to the crawlspace provided, before sealing it behind you. You're out of sight of the bouncers, but there are people ahead of you in line. They don't seem to be paying attention to you right now, but more people seem to be joining the line intermittently.

Joshua Gethsemane

The imposing height of the church you enter, and the statues of great saints fixed along it, reassures you that you're in the right place and perhaps offers further reassurance to your weary soul. There's a service in progress as you enter, and the few people not preoccupied with it seem to avoid you. There's something about an arbite uniform that makes people feel guilty and judged, and encourages them to scurry along and find something else to do.

The first person you speak to passes you along to a passing acolyte, who refers you up to a priest, who attempts to fob you off on another acolyte before referring you up to a senior priest who is very busy preparing for what he calls "an upcoming prayvaganza" and is just on his way out. He is terse, formal, and reluctant to speak to you, but softens a little when you mention your Lord-Captain wishes to donate some funds and supplies to their noble efforts to shine the light of the God-Emperor on the forsaken souls of the Expanse, and his eyes light up with what you swear is malevolence when you mention Trask's name.

You gently encourage him to speak, the looming threat of your Writ of Authority unspoken, but present. Eventually, through questioning several of the older parishioners, you get the full story. Trask was a quartermaster on board the pilgrim-ship which broke down here. Like so many others who were serving aboard the ship, he was swept up in the hustle and bustle of Footfall, and fell in with some bad sorts as a result of inexperience. As he was thought to be a sensible young man, the business of contracting repairs was left to him. Apparently he betrayed his crewmen, and was instrumental in aiding thieves who removed the Gellar Field device from the vessel and sold it as scrap. Unable to afford a replacement, the vessel was stuck here, and Trask fled. The Janissaries would love to get their hands on him, but nothing could be proven to the satisfaction of the local authorities, and he's apparently become a person of some small renown- a buying agent for a Rogue Trader or something similar- so the Janissaries themselves can't touch him. An attempt was made on his life by one young convert, but failed. The convert was gunned down by two highly-professional bodyguards that are with Trask at all times. The senior priest effusively assures you that this vulgar assassination attempt was one foolish young man acting alone, and not in any way sponsored or suggested by the church.

He finishes by suggesting that they would hate to see their lost lamb Trask get into any kind of trouble with the Arbites and that it really is all a very regrettable business, but the church is, of course, legally bound to assist you with your enquiries.

2012-11-01, 07:56 AM
Several of the crew with her are treated to a quiet, but constant stream of complaining about the state of the area and the insults it gives to the Ommissah, glory to the Machine God's name. Zerah remains in something of a sulk and her usual cheery chatter is currently absent.

On locating the hatch and identifying the problem, she runs through some simple logic routines and identifies the risk of being spotted as the biggest threat. To not be looked at is clarified as the simplest solution and after she queries through available resources and dismisses the possiblity of asking armsmen to start a brawl, she sends a short data burst to her trusty servo-skull.

The small machine drops into the square opposite Zerah and the hatch and begins to bumble around, its small hover engine making far more noise then it needs to. Apparently random, its noisy, obivous movements correllate to Hashaw's third rule of avoidance and hopefully make it harder to hit for anyone brutish enough to find it fun to take pot shots at the servo skull.

When it seems to have drawn as much attention as is possible, Zerah runs through the chore of removing the panel, squeezing inside and sealing it up behind her. As soon as she's safely sealed in, another data burst sends the servo-skull flying off.

That is, unless something, somewhere, goes horribly wrong. In which case, I edit. ^^

2012-11-01, 10:08 AM
Fiona moved over to the central bar where Leora was 'tending, leaning against the circle and watching the remarkable dancer. She waited until Leora came near to order a drink -- something fruity and low in alcohol. It didn't do to mix alcohol and anything.

Presuming Leora approached, Fi would turn around and nod to her. "How's about a Scintillian Swimmerhawk? Make it a double, yeah? And while you're at it, what's that one's name? I wouldn't mind giving her the time of day, know what I'm sayin'?" she said in Low Gothic, the full Street Gothic accent making an appearance. She slid over the necessary thrones for the drink before turning back around and viewing the full club, trying to see anything else that was remarkable.

2012-11-01, 10:58 AM

Leora smiles as she sets about making your drink.

"You go slip a few thrones to the guy over there in the suit, then after she's completed her set, you can tell her what time it is in private. For the rest of the night, if you like. Nice private booths downstairs, ma’am. Rates by the minute for the first half hour, then by the hour." She seems to be studying you keenly now you’ve made contact with her, curious about you and your intentions. She’s never seen your face before. You realize that she’s committing it to memory now.

"She might even understand the numbers. Speaks pretty pidgin gothic, see. Her name’s Silixia. Owner brought her about six months back.” The name isn’t an Imperial one. She must be from one of the worlds in the Koronus Expanse, one yet to be uplifted into the Emperor’s Light and made aware of their obligations to the rest of humanity and yadda yadda yadda. Silixia’s body seems to writhe under the strobing light as a change in the pitch of the music occurs, rapidly twisting this way and that in some odd combination of tribal dance combined with the fit-like palpitations common to people that try to dance to music like this. The dancers are working as hard as they can, but it’s difficult music to dance to.

You watch Leora shake bottles containing the various fruit juices involved in your drinks, plus the rest of the bar in general. You breathe deeply of the air, observe the body language of those around you, try to get a sense of the mood. The mood is festive, but with an undercurrent of feverish energy that you often get in places like this. There’s a certain aggressive tension. These people are here to have fun before they have to go back to their miserable lives, but they’d settle for violence. Tucked away in a corner behind you, there’s a table with four people on it, two men dressed in heavy leather overcoats and two women with mowhawks and identical metal studs in their ears, having an intense conversation. There’s a lot of staring, leaning forward, terse, quietly spoken words. Seems like a fairly intense conversation. Over to your right, a tall, tattooed man has a dancer sitting on his lap; he smiles up at her as he twirls a finger through her long, curly hair. Three other men are sitting at the table with them; one seems annoyed at the presence of the girl and clearly wishes she’d go away, a third seems amused, and a forth doesn’t care. The table to your left (next to the door) has three men who are nursing three identical glasses of some alcoholic beverage without enjoyment. A skinny, laughing man sits down on the empty seat beside them, but after a few short words from one of the men- a real thug with a ragged black beard and awful teeth- he scowls and stands back up, leaving the seat empty. Three girls are trying to drag two of the men they’re with away from the dancers and downstairs, to dance with them.

Around the bar, the man sitting a couple of seats away is alone, and nursing a drink. He’s a lean figure with a shaved head and a bionic arm replacing his left, and keen blue eyes that occasionally glance over the bar and it’s occupants, in between slow drinking. He’s chatting with Leora whenever he gets her attention, and from the half-smirk he’s wearing he’s probably flirting with her, but doesn’t seem too interested or invested. A group of six is repeatedly downing shots and hollering at the dancer girls. The centre of their revelry appears to be a man wearing an Imperial Guard-issue flak helmet and a gormless expression. They’re telling anyone who sits near them that it’s the man’s birthday, but they sound less than serious about it, implying it’s all some kind of strange in-joke.

Give me an Awareness roll.

2012-11-01, 11:05 AM
[roll0] v. 46

And please avoid saying what Fiona feels unless/until she becomes a GMPC.

Fiona knew she was difficult to describe with any accuracy, so the memorization wasn't particularly upsetting. Besides, she was still leaning against the bar, so the studying would primarily be of the back of the head. Nothing Fiona wasn't particularly worried about -- a quick dyeing of the hair would increase Leora's difficulty in positive identification tenfold.

Someone nearby was joking about a birthday. Most likely, it was an initiation rite into some gang that the group belonged too. Nothing too troublesome. Across the bar, however, there were multiple groups that could prove problematic. She would report back to the Lord-Captain once she'd gotten her drink.

Henry the 57th
2012-11-01, 11:38 AM
Sythius walks towards the bar, wearing his carapace armor. It is, as described before, considerably dirtier and more beaten-up looking than usual. He looks to see what he can see.

Concealment for 2 laspistols and a knife:




2012-11-01, 12:40 PM

Leora hands you your drink, and turns immediately to serve one of the idiot birthday-goers who is demanding her attention.

You notice something about the four men at the table with the dancer. The fourth man is occasionally shooting an appreciative glance at the dancer, but is primarily engaged in watching the door, silently noting the people who enter and leave. The man who is frustrated at the dancer’s presence shoots a glance over at the group of three men sitting by the door, trying to make eye contact with the black-bearded man with the bad teeth. It’s not so much a worried glance as a familiar one; he’s trying to exchange an expression of dissatisfaction with him, a “can-you-believe-this-****-I’m-surrounded-by-idiots” look. No one at that table is acknowledging the existence of the four guys across from them, and if any of them see the man’s expression, they studiously ignore it.

Several people are starting to look at you now, though it's probably because you're a handsome young woman unaccompanied at a bar, rather than anything more nefarious.


Your drink tastes perfect, if you do decide on sipping it. You noticed while she was making it that Leora even took the time to blend the juices in the right sequence and with the right interval of time before introducing each new element, which is something that bartenders rarely bother to do, outside of classy establishments. The liquor she used is good stuff and not the house liquor you'd normally get without specifically requesting otherwise. She doesn't seem to be taking as much care with the drinks of her other customers.

2012-11-01, 12:57 PM
Outside the club

Zerah's servo-skull creates no small degree of consternation. Many of these people have never seen one before and don't know what one is, and so a levitating, animate skull gives them some cause for concern. You hear them babble excitedly. One of the bouncers draws a stub revolver and levels it at the skull, but doesn't fire. The armsmen on leave from the Sword of Noble Intolerance apparently have seen servo-skulls before and know what one is, but they choose to focus on the facts that (a) they are valuable, and (b) this one is apparently unattended and unclaimed. Two of them make several crude attempts to capture it, but in accordance with its avoidance subroutines, it hovers up, just out of their grasping reach. One of them attempts to throw his military greatcoat over it, apparently under the mistaken belief that servo-skulls "stop moving and float to the ground if you block their eyes, right, like what a bird does", but misses.

Zerah detaches the panel and crawl insides, resealing it behind her.


You’re in a damp, narrow service tunnel. You can smell oil leaking from somewhere. Crawling on a short ways, you find a likely-looking access panel, open it, and find that it’s fallen victim to a power surge at some point in the past. Fortunately, the fuse did it’s duty, overloading and burning out, nobly protecting the larger machine spirit of the panel itself. You say a quick prayer for the departed sprite, and replace the fuse with one of the spares you keep in your pocket.

The panel hums to life, and you jack yourself in. It’s slow to boot up, but it still functions, praise the Omnissiah. You link with the cameras without any problem. There’s a brief sensation of vertigo and your head feels dizzy, and then you access the camera feeds. They spring into your vision; you can see their views floating as an overlay before you as long as you will it and stay plugged in. They mounted in discrete bubbles in the centre of each room’s ceiling, apparently. They are currently moving to and fro automatically. They look like they can be controlled or directed, or indeed made to do most anything you can think of, but you’d have to access a different subsystem for that, which would be a little harder then jacking in to the feed under the guise of maintenance.

CAM-1 is apparently on the main floor. You can see Fiona sitting at a large, circular bar in the center of the room, chatting to one of the bartenders, a tall redhaired woman. The interior is dinghy, but probably counts as decidedly up-market for this kind of hab. Chrome finish everywhere, red leather stools, fancy tables nailed to the ground. It's fairly busy. People sit in small groups, conversing and drinking, watching the dancing girls (most of whom look like they've seen better days, except for one dark-skinned woman wearing green eyeshadow and gold bangles who looks like she could land a job some place more respectable or at least better-paying than this) or just sitting around, nursing drinks and watching the other patrons. Clientele is almost entirely male. There's stairs leading down to a floor beneath this.

CAM-2 is a dance floor. People silently gyrate and press against each other, and the camera’s optics strain to compensate for strobing light. Ringing the dance floor are several sets of stairs leading to private booths, some of which overlook the dancers. There are bouncers at each one; you watch one man show some kind of ticket and enter, a scantily-clad woman in tow.

CAM-3 is some kind of office. Thick, steel door. An old cogitator, a safe, a desk with a shotgun resting on it. Built like a safe room. Screens, showing the feeds evident from the first seven cameras. Noone’s here right now.

CAM-4 is a dark corridor; there’s a door there that might be the other side of the office, a hatch with a valve, two other doors leading away.

CAM-5 is the club exterior. You can see the line of waiting patrons that your saw before, plus several of your fellow crew.

CAM-6 is some kind of lobby. There are numbered lockers, bouncers a person taking cash for admission behind a metal grille. People surrender whatever weapons they may have, lock them away, receive a ticket they can turn in to get their weapons back when they leave, and are otherwise ushered inside.

CAM-7 appears to be the toilets. A man and a woman are sharing a cubicle and seem to be about to share some kind of medicae skin-strip, but they're otherwise unoccupied.

CAM-8 isn’t actively reporting it’s feed, but your senses pick it up, even so. Some kind of… large dressing room, perhaps? There’s lingerie and feather boas and all kinds of costume pieces present. Two topless women are conversing as they change their clothes. The position of the camera suggests they might not know it’s there. Unlike the others, this camera has an audio feed. The sound quality is exceptionally clear, and the video feed more crisp than the other cameras.

The two women aren't discussing anything of interest. Just hab-block prices, and the possibility of moving in to an apartment together, for their mutual convenience.

No sign of your target, but you'll spot him if he pokes his ugly head anywhere.

((If you want to do anything with these cameras other than passively watch through them, give me a Tech-Use roll, including your MIU bonus.))

2012-11-01, 01:32 PM
Zerah hums to herself, her recitation of the theme tune to that old classic, 'The Commissar crushes heretics underfoot'. It's pitch perfect in every way, but lacks the fervent energy of the original track. She begins by tracing Fiona's movements since she entered the Boot and up till she reaches the bar, then attempts to persaude the machine spirits to 'forget her'. Should that be beyond them, she cringes, but accepts it as a needed evil and scrubs the system clean of any recordings containing Fiona, an ongoing process as the seneschal conducts her business.

Multitasking as much as she can and running through the various feeds, Zerah lets herself sink into previous recordings and begins to run time back, seeking any matches of Trask's face, or anyone else she knows to be connected to VII or the cartel.

Should any of them be found, she'll observe their meetings and movements within the night club.


Tech use checks. 57 int+10(Tech use)+10(Foresight)+10(MIU)+10(Combi-tool.)

1. Erase Fiona's image from the system. If it can't be done with such precision, then she'll erase any saved footage of Fiona (and other members of the crew when they enter.)


2. Search the previous footage with aid of Total Recall for any Trask sightings, or known faces from VII or the cartel. Observe and record their movements and who they speak to if they're found in saved files.


2012-11-01, 02:25 PM
Taking the drink, Fiona moved to the women's restroom. Once there, she would check to see if anyone else was in the area before moving to one of the stalls, moving inside but not closing the door. That is, if no one was in there!

2012-11-01, 02:28 PM
Two people in there, in one of the stalls. Hard to say just from the sounds alone, but they appear to be sharing, or preparing to share, some kind of narcotic.

They probably heard you enter, but don't appear to be concerned.

2012-11-01, 02:31 PM
On returning to his Lord Captain, Gethsemane quickly relates the details given to him by the Maccabean pilgrims.

"Trask is the lowest of the low. He stole the Gellar Field from a pilgrim ship. He now works for a Rogue Trader, and is accompanied by two allegedly dangerous bodyguards. If they are marked as dangerous by the Maccabean Janissaries, it is almost certain that they are threatening."

Gethsemane then offers a judgement call, feeling it is not above his place.

"He has so far relied on the lofty position of his employer to escape judgement.

I would move to say that you, in your position as a Lord-Captain with a Warrant of Trade, are one of the few people on this planet with the legal ability to bring him to justice."

He pauses for a moment, then continues on...

"Technically, I too have such a right, but would not wish to be subordinate. It would bring you into conflict with his master, of course. But, of course, I would suggest bringing the hammer down on both individuals, Warrant of Trade or not."

In an attempt to offer something positive, instead of a demand for blood, he also makes a suggestion...

"Finding a Gellar Field for the clergy may do one a great service in the future. They could prove to be a powerful ally."

2012-11-01, 02:44 PM
Fiona gave a cursory sweep of the room to see if there were any security devices and to gauge the level of sound within the bathroom. Presumably there was a door?

[roll0] v. 46

2012-11-01, 02:49 PM
Several stalls, one door to enter the bathroom. The light fixtures above you are luminous globes. You notice that one is less opaque than the others, and seems to contain a rotating lens... a security camera. It's panning around the bathroom automatically, rather than tracking anything. It appears to be a model you recognise as visual only; no audio feed.

It's fairly public, and like all nightclub toilets, fairly busy.

2012-11-01, 02:52 PM
Zerah whispers into her vox bead, opening a channel to Fiona. ++No one's watching except me Fi. And the cameras have agreed to forget.++

2012-11-01, 03:03 PM
Fiona walked down the line of sinks, turning them on one by one before moving into the stall farthest from anyone else. Leaving the door open so she could see into the mirror, keeping the glass held and covering her mouth with the other, Fiona spoke into her microbead to the Lord-Captain in a whisper, speaking in High Gothic.

She relayed the number of notable individuals, drew attention to the dancer, and otherwise explained the situation.

This post needs to happen so that the timelines can sync and the groups can work again, but I'm in a hurry. I'm sorry! :smallfrown:

2012-11-01, 03:18 PM

You track Fiona’s progress on the camera feeds. She entered the club- the guards didn’t find any weapons on her- and walked over to the bar, starting up a conversation with the red-headed bartender and ordering a drink. Then she got up, moving into the female bathrooms. You see her glance up at the camera at one point, noting it's presence. She went into one of the toilet cubicles. She poured her some of her drink away, and cradled her ear and mouth; at a guess, speaking on her vox-bead quietly. Then she went back out and went back to the bar.

Removing her from the recorded image is easy enough, but the problem is she was searched outside, and served a drink inside. If anyone scrutinizes the feed closely, they might notice this “ghost”. You could edit the rest of the image to smooth this out, but it will take longer, and would distract you somewhat from monitoring the cameras. The same problem is likely to present itself as the rest of your crewmates interact with the environment; you can see Synthius getting searched outside now. They find one of his laspistols and make him check it in.

Searching for Trask’s face, you quickly come up with a match from two days ago. He hung around the bar talking to the red-headed bartender for a while, went downstairs with a dancer for about 15 minutes, then slunk home. Another match from last week. Same behaioural pattern. A few false-positives. Another two matches from the week before. He seems to only show up when the red-headed bartender is there; the one time he shows up and she isn’t present, his visit is half its usual length.
Noone else you recognize from as associated with the Vill dynasty or anywhere else you know came here, but then, the accessible records only go back for about a month.

((Roll dem bones and give me a Scrutiny check. Also, by VII, did you mean the Vill dynasty, or something I’m not aware of? And where is your servo-skull heading? If you didn’t give it instructions, it voxs you now,chittering a request for further orders.))


You go in first, at the head of the crew. The bouncer quickly finds one of your las-pistols. Apparently finding one weapon encourages him to be much less casual about the whole “searching” thing, and for a moment you think he’s going to locate the other one, but when he draws back the sleeve of your arm, he thinks the bulge he noticed was merely one of your biceps. He didn’t come close to finding your wickedly sharp knife.

The bouncer escorts you in and eyes you warily as you pay for your entry. You’re given a numbered ticket corresponding to that of the small footlocker they lock your laspistol and half your ammunition in, and told that you can retrieve it when you leave. You idly wonder how many drunk people forget. It’d be great fun to go through those lockers and see what interesting pieces you could turn up.

You can see Fiona sitting at a large, circular bar in the center of the room. The interior is dinghy, but probably counts as decidedly up-market for this kind of hab. Chrome finish everywhere, red leather stools, fancy tables nailed to the ground. It's fairly busy. People sit in small groups, conversing and drinking, watching the dancing girls (most of whom look like they've seen better days, except for one dark-skinned woman wearing green eyeshadow and gold bangles who looks like she could land a job some place more respectable or at least better-paying than this) or just sitting around, nursing drinks and watching the other patrons. Bit of a sausage fest around here, and the few girls around are already with someone. There's stairs leading down to a floor beneath this… maybe they’ll be better pickings below.

As you survey the scene, you notice that you recognize one of the patrons. A man sitting alone at the bar opposite Fiona, nursing a drink. He’s a lean figure with a shaved head, a bionic arm replacing his left, and keen blue eyes that occasionally glance over the bar and it’s occupants, in between slow drinking. He’s chatting with a buxom, redheaded bartender whenever he gets her attention, seems to be flirting with her. Thrones above, you definitely know that guy. His name is Lans. Sergeant Lans Felder. He was in your platoon. You fought together on Bastion Secundus. Last you saw of him, a Night Lord assault marine had ripped his arm off with a chainsword and kicked him halfway across the trench, and he was screaming bloody murder, trying to ratchet a new shell into his shotgun by loading with one hand and working the pump with his teeth. You felt bad for him, thinking that he was probably going to bleed out or go into shock and die, but at the same time, might have been a little consoled by the fact that it meant that you were now probably going to win the contest you’d been having with him to see which of you could get the most kills before they died; a contest that he’d been winning by a few heads, up until that point. Apparently he survived and mustered out, much as you did. You wonder what he’s doing here. He doesn’t seem to have recognized you yet.

Lord-Captain De Cour

After your discrete meeting with Gethsemane, Fiona reports to you over via your vox-bead, speaking in High Gothic. No sign of your target yet. She's gauged the atmosphere of the bar, and the mood is festive, but with an undercurrent of feverish energy that you often get in places like this. There’s a certain aggressive tension. These people are here to have fun before they have to go back to their miserable lives, but they’d settle for violence. There's various people in the club right now, many of whom might be dangerous, but two groups and an individual in particular caught her attention. The individual is a dancer called Silixia, apparently a slave or indentured worker of some kind. A dark-skinned woman wearing green eyeshadow and gold bangles who looks too good for this place, and has made Fiona suspicious.

One table has four men, where a tall, tattooed man has a dancer sitting on his lap. Three other men are sitting at the table with them; one seems annoyed at the presence of the girl and clearly wishes she’d go away, a third seems amused, and a forth doesn’t care, and is watching the door, noting who comes in and out.

They may be involved with a second group of three men who are nursing three identical glasses of some alcoholic beverage without enjoyment, sitting by the door. The motivations of these seven are unknown, but they're observing patrons enter.

Synthius heads in to the club ahead of you. He is searched, and they take one of his laspistols before he's allowed in.

2012-11-01, 03:27 PM
Zerah voxes the servo skull to return to the shuttle and power down, focusing her attention on contining to study the footage and work through what she finds.

She'll scrub the recordings of any footage containing Fiona and other crew members in that case. I did mean Vill, sorry, bad typo there. Does Trask always go downstairs with the same dancer, and if so, is she present tonight (or has she been meeting other people on a regular basis)?

Scrunity. Target 21. [roll0]

2012-11-01, 03:39 PM

You bid the cameras to alter their data, even though it is not in their machine-spirits nature to lie; you are required to suggest to them what they might have seen instead, as they have no imagination with which to construct a plausible falsehood, the little dears. You obliterate Fiona and your crew from the current footage, and will continue to do so.

Trask picks a different dancer each time. Even to one such as you, it's painfully obvious he has a ridiculous, unrequited crush on the red-headed bartender; sometimes he looks over at her as he heads down, wanting to see if she's jealous. She isn't.

One interesting thing you notice is that there's two customers- a man with a shaved head and a well-made cybernetic arm, and a small man with a goatee who commonly wears fine suits- who only ever appear on the same days as Trask. The man with the cyber arm sometimes shows up a little before Trask does, sometimes a couple hours in advance of Trask's arrival. He normally leaves shortly after Trask does. The man with the goatee normally arrives at the same time as Trask and stays close to him throughout.

2012-11-01, 03:48 PM
Downloading the images of the two she's spotted, Zerah establishes a connection to the shuttle and sends the data for the images in a burst, requesting they be passed onto the ship. She then sends a message to the Captain.

++Two images sent, sir. Two men who may be connected with Trask. I don't know who they are yet.++

Checking the recordings once more, she looks to see if the two men arrive at any other times. A hand strokes the interface soothingly as she works. "I'm sorry, really sorry. I promise you, it's for a good cause. Hopefully I can give you the rite of maintance before I go, you deserve it."

Henry the 57th
2012-11-01, 04:28 PM
Sythius moves towards his old comrade. "Lans? Lans Felder? Is that really you?"

2012-11-01, 04:35 PM
Haddon ignorant of much of what has been going on approaches the large queue at the Kroot's boot. Wandering in he hands over the few thrones and wanders past the guards - the bouncers ignorant of the pistol tucked carefully in his belt.

Entering the club he headed to the bar, still keeping his low hat on to cover his warp eye, and procured a large ad strange looking fizzy cocktail of soe kind. Lightly brushing his microbead he whispers "Is there anyone else here?" He stands looking a little lost by the bar, pale and tall not quite sure what to do. The packed throng with pounding music very different to the soft panelled walls and tapestries of Cassini holdings.

Busy evening on the thread!

2012-11-02, 02:41 AM

The bouncer doesn't find your pistol, nor does he uncover your third eye. You keep your speaking to a minimum and don't reveal your array of needle-like teeth. This is a relief. Common people are often... uncomfortable around Navigators, to say the least. You may even have been mistaken for a common mutant. Unthinkable! You head inside the club.

You can see Fiona sitting at a large, circular bar in the center of the room. The interior is dinghy, but probably counts as decidedly up-market for this kind of hab. Chrome finish everywhere, red leather stools, fancy tables nailed to the ground. It's fairly busy. People sit in small groups, conversing and drinking, watching the dancing girls (most of whom look like they've seen better days, except for one dark-skinned woman wearing green eyeshadow and gold bangles who looks like she could land a job some place more respectable or at least better-paying than this) or just sitting around, nursing drinks and watching the other patrons. Mostly men here, which is unsurprising, because of the dancers. A couple more women than you'd expect, however. Perhaps this place is the only game in town. There are stairs leading down to a dance floor below. No sign of your target yet.

Sythius has entered ahead of you and appears to be at the bar, talking to a man with a shaved head and a bionic arm.


Lans turns to you, a frown on his face at first. "Who wants to k- wait. Sythius? Sythius Dinevidan?" he stares at you for a moment, incredulous and unsure how to react to this, almost as if waiting for a cue from you. "Well, look at that. What you drinking these days, Sythius?" he turns back to one of the bartenders, deftly gesturing that he wants to order another round for both of you. "Now last time I saw you... you were trying to retarget that damned lascannon... Night Lord had just gunned down your spotter, and he was bearing down on you. I figured you were done. I figured we were all done, actually. Right?"

Henry the 57th
2012-11-02, 06:14 AM
"You know I don't drink, Lans." He shrugs at the recollection of the battle. "I got it reloaded. Mr tall, dark, and batty got to experience what life is like minus the entire lower body. I don't think he much liked it." Sythius smirks a little at the fond memory of the Night Lord rolling around in the dirt, minus legs and lower body, screaming and burning. Until the next shot vaporized the traitor's head. "So, how'd you cheat death? And what are you doing these days?"

2012-11-02, 06:53 AM

"Hah! If it was anyone else, I'd call 'em a liar. You always were a hell of a shot with that thing. Best in the regiment."

He turns, looking you up and down again, sizing you up.

"I got out of the trench. Manage to crawl into a Chimera that was falling back. Crew got out of being shot for desertion by claiming they were evacuating the wounded. Got a medal and a prosthetic cyber arm... crappier model than this, but I replaced it later. Damn, but that was some rough fighting."

Lans picks up his glass again with his bionic arm, flexing the fingers."Working with a private security merc firm, now. A good one. They don't issue us armor like yours, though." He says, nodding to your stained carapace. He takes another drink. "So, what about you? Who're you working for now?"

Henry the 57th
2012-11-02, 08:06 AM
"So I was." Sythius nods, with a total lack of modesty. "It's because I spent my time training and fighting while the rest of you were playing cards and drinking."

"How did you crawl minus one arm?"

"My employer wishes to remain anonymous for the moment. Perhaps I'll be able to tell you more about them later."

2012-11-02, 06:16 PM
Lucius walks by the Bouncer in his Carapace Armour and shows he has no weapons underneath his coat. (In reality he has hsi two pistols hidden on his body)

[roll=Consealment]1d100 ~50 40 agility and the weapon is perfectly still. i hope I doing this right)

Once in the club he takes a seat at the bar so that he has overview in the club. He puts his microbeat so all the other can hear him.
I'm at the bar we have someone to with overview in the club. If somethings goes wrong I can be with you in a second.
(I am Hiveworldborn, so I can move trough crouds very easily)

If I missed soemthing or if I am not aloud to go in the club already or if you need to interrupt my actions at any point within this post, pelase say so, than I will edit it

2012-11-02, 06:18 PM
Mistyped the roll :smallredface:

2012-11-02, 09:44 PM
Not wanting to disturb Fiona or Sythius the young Navis retreats to a sheltered corner where there is little danger of being bumped and jostled. Sipping his drink with a slight grimace at the cheap ingredients he waited for orders to spring into action

2012-11-03, 08:45 AM
Sythius, Fiona

Lans locks eyes with Sythius, the corner of his mouth twisting in to a smirk. He sets down his drink, the bionic arm twitching slightly. It seems to jerk forward, and then carefully and deliberately move back to it's previous position. He shakes his head slightly.

"Figures. Lot of soldiers died that day. Some would've done anything. Anything, to get our chance, to muster out. Get off that frakking Fortress world, marry the first decent girl that came along, then spend the rest of their frakking life quietly shovelling crap on some agri world somewhere. But you get out, and the first thing you do is sign up to get shot at again. You're a waste, you know that, Sythius? Throne, we both are."

He flashes Sythius a smile, briefly, before his face seamlessly slips back into neutral.

"So, you are working. For some... anonymous employer. Means not a mercenary company. Probably not a freebooter crew. And you show up to the Boot, wearing beat-up, dirty carapace armor. You don't drink, you sure as frak ain't gonna go downstairs and dance, and I can't help but remember that you used to keep your armor clean enough to eat off. Used to maintain your gear while the rest of us were... drinking and playing cards."

He leans forward slowly. "So, good buddy. From one old soldier to another. Why don't you tell me what you're really here for, and how many people you got with you?"


((I needed one Concealment roll for every weapon you wanted to bring in, but it's cool, I rolled the second for you.))

The bouncer doesn't find either of your bolt pistols or the magazines taped beside them. Excellent. You see that neither of your two armsmen ahead of you are as lucky, and both have to surrender their stub automatics with a grumble. You enter the bar.

You can see Fiona sitting at a large, circular bar in the center of the room. Sythius sits opposite her, talking to a bald man with a cybernetic eyes. Seems like they know each other. Haddon collects a drink from the bar and slinks away to a side table. The interior is like you remember it, except older and more run down. Chrome finish everywhere, red leather stools, fancy tables nailed to the ground. It's fairly busy. People sit in small groups, conversing and drinking, watching the dancing girls (most of whom look like they've seen better days, except for one dark-skinned woman wearing green eyeshadow and gold bangles who looks like she could land a job some place more respectable or at least better-paying than this) or just sitting around, nursing drinks and watching the other patrons. The clientele is mostly men, as always. Most of the women only come here for the dancing.

You know that downstairs is where the private booths are, where Trask will likely meet whoever is selling the guncutter. Zerah is on the cameras and will presumably warn you when he arrives, though he'd have to pass through the entry, too.


You retreat with your drink into a corner of the room, and start people-watching.

Seems like a fairly rough place, from the number of bouncers loitering around. The table on the opposite side of the room hasfour people on it, two men dressed in heavy leather overcoats and two women with mowhawks and identical metal studs in their ears, having an intense conversation. There’s a lot of staring, leaning forward, terse, quietly spoken words. One of the men bangs his hand on the table and starts hissing something, and one of the woman half rises as he does so. Seems like a fairly intense conversation. On the table immediately to your right are four men, one tall and tattooed with a dancer sitting on his lap. They're talking to each other in a sort of babyish language. Three other men are sitting at the table with them; one seems annoyed at the presence of the girl and clearly wishes she’d go away, a third seems amused, and a forth doesn’t care.

"Freth, Davian. You're gonna look really frakking professional when the captain shows." growls the annoyed man.

"Look, I'm doing what the natives do. I'm lookin' natural. I gots this. Just mind your own frakking business. Have a drink! Get a girl! Unwad your panties for once, for thrones sake." shoots back the guy with the girl on his lap. The girl titters on cue.

The table over near the door has three men who are nursing three identical glasses of some alcoholic beverage without enjoyment. Their mood is sullen. They're not hear to have a good time. Three girls over near the dancing poles finally manage to drag two of the men they’re with away from the dancers and downstairs, to dance with them.

Around the bar, a group of six is repeatedly downing shots and hollering at the dancer girls. The centre of their revelry appears to be a man wearing an Imperial Guard-issue flak helmet and a gormless expression. They’re telling anyone who sits near them that it’s the man’s birthday, but they sound less than serious about it, implying it’s all some kind of strange in-joke. Fiona is also at the bar, Sythius is having a seemingly jovial conversation with the man with the bionic arm, and Lucius and a few of your ship's armsmen just entered.

Give me a Scrutiny check if'n you please :)

Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 10:04 AM
Sythius, Fiona

Lans locks eyes with Sythius, the corner of his mouth twisting in to a smirk. He sets down his drink, the bionic arm twitching slightly. It seems to jerk forward, and then carefully and deliberately move back to it's previous position. He shakes his head slightly.

"Figures. Lot of soldiers died that day. Some would've done anything. Anything, to get our chance, to muster out. Get off that frakking Fortress world, marry the first decent girl that came along, then spend the rest of their frakking life quietly shovelling crap on some agri world somewhere. But you get out, and the first thing you do is sign up to get shot at again. You're a waste, you know that, Sythius? Throne, we both are."

He flashes Sythius a smile, briefly, before his face seamlessly slips back into neutral.

"So, you are working. For some... anonymous employer. Means not a mercenary company. Probably not a freebooter crew. And you show up to the Boot, wearing beat-up, dirty carapace armor. You don't drink, you sure as frak ain't gonna go downstairs and dance, and I can't help but remember that you used to keep your armor clean enough to eat off. Used to maintain your gear while the rest of us were... drinking and playing cards."

He leans forward slowly. "So, good buddy. From one old soldier to another. Why don't you tell me what you're really here for, and how many people you got with you?"

"You know I've never been happier than when I'm in a fight, Lans."

Sythius shrugs. "Times change. People run out of polish and can't get any on this fracking dump."

Sythius glances around beneath his helmet, checking to be sure no one is watching. If they aren't, he leans forward a bit and says in a low tone. "I'm here with a few friends to, shall we say, "pick up" a certain someone on behalf of my employer. It may be on a less than voluntary basis."

2012-11-03, 10:48 AM

You search back through the records. Now that you're looking for it, you notice those two men only ever show up on the days that Trask does; the bald guy with the cyber-arm always a variable time before he arrives, the guy with the goatee round about the same time. The man with the goatee seems to shadow him, following him downstairs whenever he gets a private booth and waiting somewhere nearby outside. The guy with the cyber-arm normally always waits upstairs, and leaves a variable amount of time after Trask does.

Trask talks mainly to Leora, occasionally to another bartender. Doesn't seem to have any prelonged conversations with anyone other than Leora, although it's possible he's using some kind of secret hand signals or brief code. He avoids conversations with other patrons. There are a couple occasions where a dancer girl or other scantily-clad woman talks to him, which are always brief exchanges that end when he goes downstairs and into a private booth with them. There is one occasion (when he arrives on the day that Leora isn't present) where a burly, clearly intoxicated man sits down at his table and starts talking to him, smiling. Trask appears visibly uncomfortable, and before long, the man with the goatee steps in, saying a few words to the interloper, putting a hand on his shoulder and gently moving him away. Whatever is said causes the drunk man to rapidly choose another table.

While searching, you notice vaguely that your comrades continue to trickle in to the building; Sythius, Lucius, Haddon and four of the armsmen are inside now. Lucius and Haddon didn't surrender any weapons, all of the armsmen so far had their their pistols found and checked in to the lockers. Haddon is sitting at a table alone, Sythius and Fiona are sitting at opposite ends of the centre bar.

2012-11-03, 10:52 AM
Haddon sitting in the corner relaxes against the grimy wall watching the action all around him. A dismissive wave of the hand getting rid of any girls that try and get his attention.

At the words of the table next to him he perks up slightly. Who was this Captain they spoke of? Still appearing to pay no attention he leaned forward trying to hear a little more.

Scrutiny [roll0] TN 46
Psyniscience [roll1] TN 46

At the same time he awakens his 3rd eye slightly seeking any disturbances in the aether around the bar that might denote an unwholesome presence.

2012-11-03, 11:23 AM

Through your lidded warp-eye, you attune your mind to the currents and eddies of the warp. The warp, as always, washes up on Footfall like a craggy rock amidst a mighty sea; breaking over it, not into it, yet at the same time, distantly around it. A constant presence.

You try to sort through the greater weight of it and make sense of your immediate surroundings, but you can't quite slip in to the state of mind required for accurate psyniscence immediately.

The table to your right continues their conversation.

"He's my boss, that guy. He's the boss of me. Can you tell?" the tattooed man solemnly tells the girl on his lap, nodding to the man who's growing increasingly annoyed with him. The man sitting between the two of them smirks.

"Captain said I was in charge. Screw your frakking head on, you mouthy little screwup." growls the annoyed man.

"Do I got to separate you two?" comments the man sitting between them. "This, this right here, kids. This is why we never go anywhere nice."

You notice something about the three men sitting near the door. For one, they're not here to have fun. They're sipping their identical drinks dutifully, like men who don't really like beer, but have been ordered by some superior to Drink Beer and are determined to carry out those orders to completion. For another thing, they're preoccupied with watching the door, and have apparently chosen the table that affords them the best a view of it.

2012-11-03, 11:25 AM
Zerah muses over the cameras, then sends a few vox messages out.


++Be careful sir. The man you're talking to is one of two who watches Trask whenever he comes here.++


++Fi? Trask is here soon, there's a man with a bionic arm talking to Scythius who always arrives a few hours before he does.

Trask always goes to talk to the red haired woman who you met if she's here, which she is, so he'll go there. He really notices her, but she never notices him. Why keep trying when something's not possible? It's a little strange, isn't it?

Another man with a goatee always follows Trask in, and keeps close to him wherever he goes.++

2012-11-03, 11:33 AM
Sythius, Fiona

"Yeah. Never did understand that about you. I couldn't wait to get out. Then, once I actually did... turned out that fighting was all I knew how to do, you know?"

Noone is paying you any special attention. Lans raises his eyebrows as Sythius leans forward and whispers.

"Interesting. How do you know they're coming here? You showed up late in the night. How do you know they havn't come and gone, already? Is it a man that you're after, or a woman?"

Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 11:54 AM
Sythius shrugs. "And I never understood the desire to stop fighting. The sheen of armor, the screams of the enemy, the kick of a gun in your hand, the adrenaline rushing through your veins, the thrill of victory... Why would anyone want to give that all up to go and toss dirt on some grubby agri-world?"

"A man. And trust me, we know."

2012-11-03, 01:02 PM
Sythius, Fiona

Lans nods.

"So I guess those three guys at the table behind you by the door. Ones who've been watching the entrance like hawks, looking for someone, ever since they got in fifteen minutes ago, and doin nothin' else. Those would be your boys? They're really obvious. You babysitting some gun-babies tonight, Sythius?"

Lans flicks his gaze to indicate the table by the door, and then immediately looks back to Sythius, studying his reaction.

2012-11-03, 03:05 PM
Can Fiona hear this exchange? I'm confused about why she's in the heading each time.

Is there a bonus to acting like you're drunk? Regardless, I imagine it's a deceive check. Or disguise. Either way, fellowship. [roll0] v. 56 + whatever modifiers exist, if any.

2 DoS.

If that fails, [roll1] v. 56 + whatever modifiers exist, if any. That'd be a fate reroll -- but again, only if the first fails. Just trying to get all my rolls in one place.

Fiona looked up into a camera and nodded with a wink, hoping her eyes in the sky would understand the communication. She couldn't risk using the microbead again. Not so soon.

The various members of the retinue were making their way in, which was interesting. Sythius seemed interested in a little conversation with someone who was normally here before Trask, if Zerah was correct -- and when wasn't she?

Taking her drink, Fiona moved around the circular bar towards Sythius and his friend, putting on the airs of slight intoxication. "Emperor I could really use another," she mumbled, sitting on a stool and looking over at the man with the cybernetic arm. "But I think I could use a you as well. Or your friend... maybe both of ya...?" The familiar Street Gothic was back.

"I don't think I've... we've, that you and I have and him too. Right? Or have you? 'cause I don't care, since, and this is a secret, since after this is this I will go and... just be free, y'know? Gonna just fly out and say sod it! Into the Void, can you believe it? Got my first... first posting. Ma's so proud, y'know. Dead, though, but I know she's proud. So proud! An'... it's gonna be great, yeah? Never been a steward b'fore... gotta get, um, gotta get the... those tables of food. Yeah... can't fly w'thout food... but tonight, I gotta get up more of this stuff, y'know? Gotta stock up on drinks b'fore you get food, right?"

Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 03:35 PM
Sythius shakes his head. "Not at all. I may have fallen on some harder times than I'd like, but do you think I'd consort with such rank amateurs? Please. I may have lost many things, but I still have my dignity."

"So, what are you doing these days? And what are you doing here?"

Sythius looks at Fiona, deciding that Lans doesn't need to know they know each other just yet. "Then perhaps you should stay away from the alcohol." he says, rather contemptuously.

2012-11-03, 04:24 PM
Fiona made a face of confusion at Sythius. "But then I wouldn't have the courage to come over here an' say that your friend is really sexy, would I? Umm... nnnnno, I dun'think so." She looked at the Master of Ordinance's armour. "Weird... that's... enforcer carapace, right? But that'd mean you were loaded, right? An' there'd be no reason for you to be in the Boot if tha's true, 'cause that would be, like, 'cause who comes here, right?" She giggled and shook her head.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. Sorry. I have not yet introduced myself. I! Am Valarie du Châne. And I am very pleased to make your acquaintance. But I could use another drink, so 'tender! 'nother, please and thank you. You have great eyes, y'know that? I bet your pal does too, but he's over there all like mysterious and brooding and stuff."

2012-11-03, 04:50 PM
Sythius, Fiona

"Hmm. They ain't your people. But they're somebodies. Could be interested in the same guy you're interested in. Word to the wise, friend, I'd-"

Lans is cut off by Fiona's sloppy arrival, and smiles emptily at her as she drapes herself between them, apparently buying her drunken barfly act completely.

"Hi, Val! Pleased to meetcher! Congratulations on landing that steward thing. Say, my friend here... he's shy, but he's really, really into ladies that serve on voidships. And he's a hell of a drinker. Let me introduce you."

He stands up. "Sythius, this is Val. There you go. You keep each other company, now. I gotta go take a leak."

He starts to move around the bar. He briefly leans closer to Sythius, stage-whispering in his ear. "Careful with this one, trooper. She's had exactly one fruit swimmerhawk since she walked in, and she's already wasted." He gives Sythius a gentle, encouraging slap on the armored shoulder-plate, and then walks off in the direction of the toilets.

2012-11-03, 05:01 PM
Fiona watched as he left and frowned. "S'not true. Not wasted at all, I can still pronounce words'n'things... 'n stuff... but tha's not what matters. You're Sythius? Well I am gonna... I am gonna keep you company 'til your friend comes back, an' I am gonna drag him to the private rooms an' really give him the time of.. the time of day, y'know? What time is it? It's..." she checked her chrono, "like way too early for me t'not have another drink. 'Tender! 'Nother, please an' thank you! So... so, your friend, 'e said tha' you like girls who serve on voidships, s'that right?"

Scrutiny to determine if he did in fact believe the deception.

[roll0] v. 46

EDIT: Apparently he did.

2012-11-03, 05:22 PM
Moving between cameras like a data ghost, Zerah tracks Lans' movements as he leaves the pair and moves away.

Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 06:27 PM
Sythius nods at Lans' warning. "I doubt she's as wasted as she seems."

He glances at Fiona. "Keep me company. Oh joy."

Sythius eyes Val scepticly. "Heavy drinker, huh?"

2012-11-03, 06:47 PM
Fiona smiled at him. "You're rather... terse, y'know that? There's something super attractive about that. A man who is just... in control. Doesn't answer to anyone, y'know? Jus' really... takes life by the horns, stabs it in the eye... wha's your friend's name? He's super cute... I can only imagine how he got that arm..."

2012-11-03, 06:48 PM

You track the man as he leaves one camera and shows up on the camera emplaced in the toilets. He heads into the end cubicle, digs around in his pocket for something, and then seems to fiddle with his ear. He murmurs to himself, apparently speaking on a vox-bead. He speaks for a few moments, then pauses for another several beats, listening. Whatever was said to him in response causes him to frown, and shake his head. He exits the cubicle and checks the door, as if expecting to be followed, ignoring one or two men entering and making use of the urinals. He speaks again, pauses, listening to a response. He speaks once more, shortly, and then pockets the vox-bead again. He keeps turning his face from the camera, frustrating any attempts you might make to lip-read, even if the video quality were good enough.

He steps back into the cubicle and draws a small, blocky, snub-nosed pistol. He snaps it open, seems to check whether it's loaded, and then slips it back under his coat again.

Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 06:59 PM
Fiona smiled at him. "You're rather... terse, y'know that? There's something super attractive about that. A man who is just... in control. Doesn't answer to anyone, y'know? Jus' really... takes life by the horns, stabs it in the eye... wha's your friend's name? He's super cute... I can only imagine how he got that arm..."

"My friend's name is Lans Felder. And I don't stab life. I blast it with a lascannon until it's a charred corpse on the ground."

2012-11-03, 07:02 PM
Fiona's eyes went wide. "Nooo waaay, really? Like, by yourself? You must be so strong.... Throne, what a man to meet on Footfall! So, like, you have a lascannon? Just have one? An' you shoot life with it?"

Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 07:22 PM
"That's what's called a metaphor, dearie." Sythius says in a snarky tone.

2012-11-03, 07:35 PM
Fiona looks crestfallen. "So then you... don't really shoot life with a lascannon...?" She frowns into her empty drink, still waiting for Leora to get around to pouring her another one. "Well... wha's it that y'do? For a livin', I mean?"

Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 07:40 PM
"I fight and kill things. What did you do, since this is evidently your first commission?"

2012-11-03, 07:45 PM
Fiona smiled and ran a finger around the rim of the glass. "The marm had me do the books, down on Glaser's Way. Made sure the girls paid on time, figured out the profit margins, who was the top earner, how to do better. Jus' lil' stuff like that. One of the boys said, they said, 'Val? She's a right nut with numbers, would love to get outta Footfall,' an' then one of 'em offered me a job, an' here I am now."

Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 08:05 PM
"Ah." Sythius says with rather obvious disgust. "A mathematics girl. So, what are you to do on your commission again?"

2012-11-03, 08:07 PM
"Food stores an' such. Gotta keep it rationed, else we all starve to death out in the Void, y'know? Ain't glamorous work, but nec'ss'ry."

Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 08:17 PM
"Fascinating." Sythius says drily.

2012-11-03, 08:19 PM
She laughed and shrugged. "I wonder where your friend ended up... maybe there's a line?"

Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 08:27 PM
"Oh, he's probably kidnapping and horribly torturing someone out back or something."

2012-11-03, 08:28 PM
Fiona raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Um... well. That's... sort of... s'prob'ly a joke, right? Y'don't actually think he's...?"

Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 08:37 PM
Sythius just stares at her, not saying anything. His helmet gives no clue as to his expression.

2012-11-03, 08:43 PM
Fiona shrugged and continued to play with the lip of her glass. "Oh well. That'd be pretty sexy, too. A dark past, a brooding best friend hidden behind beat up armour... sounds like a pulp I read once." A little giggle. "One drink an' they cut y'off, can you believe it? Like my thrones, like, my thrones aren't even, like, not even a throne that you can sit on, y'know what I mean?"

2012-11-03, 08:53 PM

Leora snatches your glass and quickly replaces it with another, smiling apologetically. It's a busy night and she's distracted by the drunken mob and their constant orders for new shots, but you now feel reassured that as long as your coin keeps flowing, you can assume your orders for new drinks will be automatically fulfilled by her without requiring independent confirmation from anyone.


Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 08:58 PM
"Yes, rather like poor fiction. But I assure you - I'm very much real."

"What I can't believe is that anyone wishes to imbibe that stuff in the first place."

2012-11-03, 09:00 PM
She raised an eyebrow. "What, y'don't like fruit juice?"

Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 09:23 PM
"No" Sythius says without missing a beat.

2012-11-03, 09:27 PM
"Your loss, then," she said with a shrug. "I think I'll go look for him, then... y'don't mind, do you? I really don't wanna miss my chance to meet the dark and mysterious butcher of Footfall, y'know?"

Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 09:50 PM
"You realize I was just messing with you, right?"

2012-11-03, 09:53 PM
"Oh sure, but tha's what they all, i's what they all say, right?" Fiona hadn't actually drank any of the refilled drink.

Henry the 57th
2012-11-03, 10:04 PM
"No. No it isn't."

2012-11-04, 02:35 AM
Zerah chimes in, in Fiona's ear. What a shame she's not hearing this conversation.


++The man with the bionic arm went to the male restroom and talked to someone on a vox-bead. He seemed worried, and he's just checked a gun. If you kill him, you think it'll be right for me to take his arm? It shouldn't just be left lying around, it doesn't deserve that and I'd take good care of it.++

2012-11-04, 02:39 AM
Fiona looked up at a camera and nodded. "Well... well, I am... I am gonna... you sure they don't say that? 'cause I think they do... but anyways, I'm gonna go find him and make sure he isn't... isn't drowning in his vomit or... y'know... bein' eaten by orks or somethin'."

Leaving the drink on the bar, Fiona moved towards the male restroom, still feigning her intoxication.

2012-11-04, 03:56 AM
Haddon sitting in the corner still trying to listen in on the other conversations activates his throat mounted microbead and whispers to Zerah. "The men on the adjoining table. Have they been up to much. What are the others doing?"

He watches Fiona staggering about with a wry eye wondering what the strange women was up to. Whatever it was it wouldn't be getting drunk.

Are we all sharing an open comm link between the crew so we can all hear what Zerah/Fiona/Sythuius are sharing with the rest of the group?

2012-11-04, 04:28 AM
Zerah opens a voxlink to the entire group at this point.

++Alright, here's what I've seen. The red haired bartender, Trask tries to get her attention whenever he comes in. I don't think he ever does. A man always comes in before Trask, with a bionic arm. He's in the male restroom right now. Another man with a goatee comes in at the same time as Trask, always stays near him.

Trask spends time upstairs, then visits a booth with one of the dancers, then leaves.

The other people here?

There's a table with two men in leather overcoats and two woman with meta in their ears? They could do far better then that, you know? If I had chance, maybe I could show them.

There's four other men nearby, one has a dancer sitting on his knees. I don't think the other three are too happy about it.

There's three men nearby too, the one with the black beard seems to be in charge, doesn't want anyone to join them.

There's six men shouting something at someone who looks like he's in the Imperial Guard.

Oh, and a dancer who seems far too good for this place. Maybe she just likes it here?++

She was just talking to them in private, to start with.

2012-11-04, 06:30 AM
Lucius Tries to make eye contact to the man witht he beard and the scars then empties his glass and walks up to them.

Hello mates. Enjoying yourself this fine evening. I'm captain Lucius, pleasure. he looks at their faces.
Mhrr, It doesn't look you are here to have fun, doing a job here? Don't worry, I'm not competition, This is my day off.
After a Moment of silence he continues.
You making some money? I am still looking for some extra strong arms aboard. Dunno what you owe the one you working for, but I could offer you a nice share of my 'profit' if you know what I mean.
Lucius winks at one of the girls
Come here sweethart, Bring these fine gentlemena drink. It's on me boys
So, what's this job about anyway? Again, no worries I have other business to attent to. I am just wondering what kind of business you are into, if you get my drift.

2012-11-04, 12:14 PM

The three men tense up as you sit down. The one with the black beard speaks for them. "Our business is none of yours, cutter. Why don't you piss off back to the bar." the glare he shoots the others indicates he considers himself to be in charge.

The attractive girl you smiled at sets a round of drinks in front of you and drapes herself over you, immediately giving you status in the eyes of the men. You picked a cute little number who knows the score and won't show you up, one you recognize from previous trips here before. She quietly and discreetly negotiates with you a rate for her continued company for the rest of the evening, and opens her hand to receive a purse of thrones while she strokes your chest through your shirt.

The thickset blonde man seems relieved of the distraction, and says "Ehh... quiet down, Hoss. Man buys me a drink, offers me work, I'll hear him out. Me an' Dax are salvagers by trade. Hoss is an armsman. What kind of ship you fly, Captain?" The bearded man seems about ready to strangle him for saying this, but the thickset man just stares back at him.

The man with the dreadlocks sizes you up, openly examining your clothes, demeanor. "Thanks for the round. But we already got a crew. Salvager transport. We get treated pretty good."

2012-11-04, 12:28 PM

You stagger towards the bathroom, entering it just as Lans appears to be trying to leave. He almost bumps into you. He stops, staring at you.

"Hi." he says, cooly.

There is an awkward pause. A couple of blokes push past him, and one of them jeers at you, seeming to think you're there to give Lans some kind of sexual favour. "This is the wrong bathroom, Val. You want the one behind you." His cybernetic arm twitches slightly, moving forward, spasmodically, and then drifting back to his side, slowly and deliberately.

There is sufficient space in the doorway for him to squeeze or shimmy past you back into the club, but he doesn't appear to be choosing to do that.

2012-11-04, 12:35 PM
Fiona shook her head and looked at her fingers for a moment. "But you could've been drowning, 'cause you weren't coming back, so I had to come'n'rescue you!"

2012-11-04, 12:44 PM

Lans smiles. "Well. Looks like I made it! Why don't we head back to the bar and I'll buy you another 'shark? If our good buddy Sythius hasn't filled your glass already. And I bet he hasn't. How long've you known that tightwad, anyway?"

2012-11-04, 12:46 PM
She checked her chrono. "I guess... somewhere in the few minute range? How well can you 'know' anyone, though? Like, like... knowledge, y'know? I's like, i's like this big expanse, y'know? An'..." Fiona did the drunken look around of the bizarrely, inexplicably paranoid drunk.


Fiona pulled her laspistol out, keeping it concealed within the camo cloak in case anyone was looking towards her at the moment. She took the instant to aim as well. "Zerah, will you turn the music up?"

2012-11-04, 01:01 PM
Fiona's answer was a steady increase in the local ambient music, the beats it gave off almost, but not quite like laspistol fire. The tech priest also checked any lights in the ceiling, seeing if there were any she could glare into Lans' face should it be needed.

2012-11-04, 01:38 PM
Zerah, Fiona

The music spikes, suddenly, shifting to a track with sharp electronic tones shifting in pitch that should, maybe, cover the sound of gunfire.


A man moves out of the bathroom and past you as you reach into your cloak, leaving you alone. Lans is suspicious of the way you move your cloak, and notices that you're reaching for something. His hand snaps down to his inner jacket, and he turns to turn. "Don't-" he barks, as your beautiful, well-maintained lasrod slips into your hand like a claw might emerge from a finger.

((Initiative order:
Fiona: 14
Lans: 6 ))


You could turn off the lights or flare them, certainly. But they're just room lights, and anything you do is likely to be equally distracting (or not) to both people. There's no way you could flare them in the man's eyes without modifying them first.

Looks like Fiona and the man just went for their guns. Exciting!

2012-11-04, 01:42 PM
"This isn't going to end well for me," Fiona said casually before shoot off three lasers at point-blank range.

[roll0] v. 104 <-- Three attacks to the body.
Damage:0 DoS: [roll1] + 3

2 DoS: [roll2] + [roll3] + 3 + [roll4] + [roll5] + 3

4 DoS: [roll6] + [roll7] + [roll8] + 3, Pen 2
[roll9] + [roll10] + [roll11] + 3, Pen 2
[roll12] + [roll13] + [roll14] + 3, Pen 2

Darn, it has to be a SINGLE shot to get the bonus. :smallfrown:

2012-11-04, 02:52 PM

((Round 1))

His gun is in his hand even faster than yours; he's clearly a quick draw. It's a boxy, stubby little thing, that reminds Fiona of a smaller version one of those collector's naval pistols that some nobles make a hobby of obtaining. They fire a nasty, customized ammunition designed for stopping power in enclosed ship conditions, without overpenetrating and damaging delicate circuitry. You can't see the imprint on the handle of what ship it came from, which would determine it's resale value, but it's probably not too important right now.

"Who the frak are you?" he hisses, trying to sight you and get an accurate bead on you through the shifting weave of your cameleoline fabric. He fires.

Free action to draw, Semi-automatic burst.

[roll0] vs 61

2012-11-04, 02:57 PM
She attempted to dodge!

[roll0] v. 42

It failed, however. The shot hit her in the chest, but was stopped by the combination of synskin and her natural toughness. With that, Fiona uttered the words above and shot him.

2012-11-04, 03:04 PM

The tiles beside you explode into fragments and one fragmented shot slams through your bodyglove as he empties his gun at you. It stings, but you quickly take stock of yourself. No trouble moving, pain at manageable levels, bleeding likely to be minor You're still combat effective. You fire with cold, practiced efficiency as he turns into a sideways-on shooting stance to dodge-


The high-energy beam of your pistol punching straight through several stalls as he ducks aside, in the nick of time.

2012-11-04, 03:22 PM

Lans drops his gun onto the dirty bathroom floor and steps forward, a knife appearing in his hands. He lunges for you.

[roll0] vs 51 , grapple

2012-11-04, 03:28 PM
The grapple failed, but he was rather close now. She pointed the barrel of the pistol towards his neck and fired off a single shot. "Just a little lightweight being attacked in a bathroom. Thanks for the gun, by the way."

Half action aim, half action standard attack. No bonus for range due to being in melee.

[roll0] v. 74
Damage:0 DoS, [roll1] + 3, Pen 2
2 DoS, [roll2] + [roll3] + 3, Pen 2
4 DoS, [roll4] + [roll5] + [roll6] + 3, Pen 2

2012-11-04, 03:33 PM
He flings up his arms, trying to knock your pistol off-target while moving his neck out of the way...

(( [roll0] dodge))

2012-11-04, 03:43 PM

Another shot, this one burning a smoking hole in the opposite wall. He stares in alarm, briefly, and then slashes at your eyes with the knife, feinting, before whipping it downwards, attempting to trap your gun-hand and slam it (and you) against the side of the nearby stall. His eyes are wide, his face pale, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"I really was going to buy you that drink, you know."

You can see in his eyes that he's frightened that he's going to die here, but he's grinning as he fights you. It's the first genuine smile you've seen him make all evening, including the fake flirting with Leora.

Disarm, Opposed WS test. [roll0] Give me a WS roll.

2012-11-04, 03:45 PM
"We could always stop this and pick it up afterwards -- adrenaline can be used for so many better things than fighting!"

Opposed Weapon Score. [roll0]

2012-11-04, 03:49 PM

He doesn't manage to get a good grip on your hand, and though you bang your wrist against the wall, it's more due to you pulling the gun out of his reach than any attempt of his to slam your hand there and dislodge your weapon. You keep hold of your prized las pistol.

In response to your quip, he barks a high, reedy laugh, baring his teeth. "Yeah?? Frak! Drop the gun, we'll get dinner." he says, while intermittently making some exploratory attempts to slip the knife up between your ribs. You slap it away easily.

2012-11-04, 03:53 PM
Fiona shook her head, pulling her arms in and taking a defensive stance. "Not a chance, but you backup and I'll reholster. This whole thing can be a funny story, no blood spilled. I'll even forgive the tailor's bill for repairing my shirt."

Full action: Defensive Stance.

2012-11-04, 03:55 PM
Zerah hits her vox to speak to Fiona, voice concerned.

++Give me the word and I'll ask the lights to power down.++

2012-11-04, 04:24 PM
Lans considers this for a moment, and decides that all things considered, he'd rather disarm you of the high-powered laspistol and then negotiate.

"What story? I die in a bathroom over this crappy job? For that whiny, limp-dicked churchmouse?"

He again tries to knock the weapon from your hand.

"The story where I drown a cute assassin in a toilet, then get paid and get off this rock is better."

Disarm, Opposed WS check. Your defence bonus applies. [roll0]

After that, I'm gone for the night, I'm afraid!

2012-11-04, 04:28 PM
"One, what the hell is a churchmouse, two, I'm not just cute, three, you're not drowning anyone."

Opposed WS.


2012-11-04, 04:51 PM
(sorry for interrupting your awesome action scene, Luc :smallredface: )

Good to hear, mates. I have heard people treated like crap on some ships.
When the girl wraps around me. Hey there cutie, nice to see you again.
The he turns to the men again Doing those trasporports alot, or ever been in real business? Not saying It's bad to work at trasports, I've been there myself, but I could understand you fantasize about more exhiting work. Having seen some real action always does good with the girl. he Winks at the girl on his lap.
You guys done anything dangerous lately? I think this girl is dying to hear what brave men you three are Now he winks at the men and nutches his head at the girl encouraging the men to speak up.

2012-11-05, 06:41 PM
Although her form was bad, his was too -- the gun remained in her hand. Fiona sighed audibly. "If you don't step back now I'm going to kill you," she said bluntly. "I'd much rather not do that."

Full Action: Defensive Stance

Go ahead and scrutiny her -- she's not lying.

2012-11-09, 03:23 PM

You don't recognize him at first, because he's wearing a wide-brimmed hat and because you're distracted by Fiona's struggle with the gunman in the bathroom, but then you see him. Trask and his other accomplice- the man with the interesting goatee- just showed up to the club. The queue has died down by down, so they can walk straight to the door.

You watch as they're searched. The man with the goatee has to turn in a Ceres-pattern bolt pistol that he was clearly trying to hide strapped to his inner leg, and doesn't seem too happy about it.


Lans hesitates for a moment, not sure whether to press his attack or negotiate.

"You pull a gun on me and say you want to talk?"

He's tensed, ready to lunge at you again if you draw. "You move like you got training. Regular laspistols don't leave scorchmarks like that. Who the frakk are you? What do you want?"

A very drunk man wanders towards the toilets, peers at your las-pistol and Lans' mono-knife, and then past you at the bulletholes and las-burns in the tiles, and blinks in surprise. "Occupied!" Lan snaps, not taking his eyes off you for a second. The man blinks again, and then turns to wander off, entirely disinterested in getting involved in whatever you're doing.


The man with the dreadlocks seems to think this question over, and phrase his answer carefully, wanting to boast, but clearly not wanting to give too much away. "We seen our share of trouble. Last year we got jumped by two wolfpack raiders, one managed to board us. That was some fighting, though. You remember that, Hoss?"

The bearded man still visibly wants you to leave, but he takes the bait. "Remember it? I was pulling a shift on the damn deck they came in on! Took a bullet to the leg and shot one man clean in half! You two just showed up after, firing your autopistols empty and then reloading neat behind bulkheads like it was-"

"You did good, but we all had a hand in it. There sure was enough of 'em to go around." The big man says, diplomatically. "Seemed like they was everywhere. I'll fight if I have to, but I prefer salvaging. Been at it for years... day work before I got a berth on this ship. I wouldn't want to leave unless I had solid work."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, same here. Captain, we've probably got more experience between us then whatever bunch of scrawny dirt-lovers you got on board your ship now, alright! So it's been bad business these past couple months. Still paying off the ship repairs, officers say, and seems like just when we get a good find over at the battlefield, that Vill bitch comes in and jumps our claim. Fragging rogue traders. Ain't no arguing with a warrant and that many guns. But I sure know where to find the good stuff! I have a nose for it, I guess you could say." he leans closer, still in sales-pitch mode. "You know, recently, just floating in a patch of space, we come across this real prize! Genuine guncutter, just as new, it-"

"Watch your goddamn mouth. You ain't working for this one yet. You ever been boarded, captain Lucius? I don't know if I caught your ship's name?"


The men at the table next to you are getting angsty. One of them checks a chrono, shows it to the others. "You think someone oughta go downstairs and check with the captain? He's only a couple minutes short."

2012-11-09, 03:33 PM
Gethsemane waited outside, one block down, in an alley out of sight. He could reach the club's exterior wall in about ten seconds.

He contacted Zerah quietly via microbead.

"I hope to take Trask alive. He is the lowest of the low, and shall face justice once we ascertain who he is working for. Keep me updated, please."

2012-11-09, 04:27 PM
"To be fair, I expected you to be less lucid and amiable. What I want is dinner. Also, for you to understand that getting off this rock -- and getting paid -- is easier when you're not dead. My employer is always looking for people with talent. My employer also has a vessel. Join up, get paid, leave Footfall. Renege on this job and you're looking at a far more lucrative lifestyle."

Fiona kept her gun down and remained in a defensive position while she spoke, mentally awarding Lars points for his swift statement to the drunkard.

2012-11-09, 04:42 PM
Haddon watches the men and looks about for anything else happening. But all seems the same, the heavy at the bar still talking to people and Fiona no doubt still skulking somewhere.

What is downstairs by the way?

"Zerah" he whispers into the microbead. "What's downstairs. Any sign of Trask or Fiona?". Sipping his drink he surreptitiously checks his belt where the pistol is holstered.

2012-11-09, 05:26 PM

"Employer, lucrative, vessel... has to be a rogue trader, then. You got an interesting way to do interviews. Why don't you tell me what job I should renege on, exactly? Maybe I'm not on a job. Maybe I'm just in here for the drinks and the cute bartender."

2012-11-09, 05:39 PM

You find a nice alley, out of the way of anyone that might be coming to or from the club, but at the same time within sprinting distance of the rear wall. It's fairly narrow, and the opposite side has some kind of access tube built in to the ground, covered by a cumbersome hatch with a valve affixed to it. On your end, there's ventilation exhaust on the side of the nearby hab block that is venting a thick mist that should aid in your staying hidden.

You wait, poised to strike. Your gut tells you that this is not going to be an uneventful stakeout.

2012-11-09, 06:05 PM
The tech priest kept her eyes on Fiona and Lans, answering Gethsamane.

++The plan's to capture him, not burn him, I believe? Fiona is managing another of his tails. The only other man who stays with him is the one with the goatee.++

She switches to Haddon's channel. ++Trask is entering now, one guard with a goatee.++

She then addressed both men. ++Seize him and I can give distractions. The office downstairs is empty, lure him out of sight of witnesses if possible.++

Even with the metallic tone, the enginseer is clearly fairly nervous right now.

2012-11-09, 08:07 PM
"You said, and I quote, 'What story, that I died in a bathroom over this crappy job?' You're the one who said you were on a job already. And that's not true -- chartist captains pay extremely well, depending on your value."

Henry the 57th
2012-11-10, 01:09 AM
Sythius is starting to become slightly impatient at Fiona's absence. In his experience, such prolonged absences are rarely good signs.

"Fiona," he whispers into his micro-bead, "Is anything wrong?"

2012-11-10, 02:02 AM
Haddon scans the room looking for a hooded or cloaked man and a man with a goatee entering the bar. His 2 regular eyes searching and flitting across the crowd as he once again wonders just how he ended up in this position.

Awareness [roll0] TN 46 +/- any modifiers

Whether he finds Trask or not he uncoils from his seat, towering about 4 inches taller than most in the crowd but keeping to the shadows of the edge of the dance floor. Still looking for Trask he pushes through the crowd heading towards the stairs downstairs in case the target heads down there.

THumbing the microbead he speaks with the enforcer who should be somewhere nearby... ++ Master Arbite. Trask has arrived.++

2012-11-10, 07:36 AM
"Understood; attempt to capture should the opportunity arise. You have Adeptus Arbites deputation for this one," replies Gethsemane to the others from outside. Should they need to, and should the guards in the club prove troublesome, claiming Adeptus Arbites authorisation, which Gethsemane could technically grant, would possibly prevent a massive shoot-out.

"Keep an eye on all possible exits. Trask must be taken alive. Use your own discretion regarding his bodyguards."

If they had to kill the bodyguards, hopefully they would do it in an exceptionally brutal fashion, so as to terrify Trask into surrendering.

2012-11-10, 08:28 AM
Sorry, how can a retired Judge technically grant Adeptus Arbites anything?

Fiona put a finger to her microbead. "Everything's fine. I'm just doing things you probably wouldn't approve of."

2012-11-10, 08:40 AM
++When you're inside and ready to grab Trask, I'll start a distraction. Let me know when you're all in place.++

Henry the 57th
2012-11-10, 11:27 AM
"Oh? What exactly are you doing in there?"

2012-11-10, 11:32 AM
Zerah pauses and runs through logic circuits, various scenarios considered, discarded and..

++Wait. Better plan. If any of you can lure that red haired bartender somewhere quiet, Trask should follow. Don't hurt her, she's not done anything to deserve it.

He'll follow, and you can all get hold of him. Fiona's fine everyone, don't worry about her.++

2012-11-10, 11:40 AM
Fiona moaned into the microbead. "Use your imagination. I'm sure it just confirms what you already think."

Henry the 57th
2012-11-10, 11:58 AM
"How badly is he hurt?"

2012-11-10, 12:40 PM
"We were thinking of getting dinner afterwards."

Henry the 57th
2012-11-10, 03:26 PM
"How very like him. Let me know if you need any assistance."

2012-11-10, 03:28 PM
"I don't do threesomes," she said with a grin, still keeping her attention on Lars.

Henry the 57th
2012-11-10, 06:29 PM
"Hardy har har." says Sythius. He decides to sit down at the bar and order a simple, nonalcoholic beverage and simply wait to see what happens, keeping a careful eye on the rest of the room.

2012-11-10, 07:00 PM
Lucius looks like he is thinking very hard.

You mean my current ship? or the ones in which I was boarded. I mean it didnt just happen once.He gives the girl a I-am-a-badass lookI ideed have seen some action, jsut like you. Once even taken by pirates when they captured a transport ship I was working on. After that even convinced the pirates I gave in to become a heretic and fight the imperial forces in search for my fortune. Good times. The Death Knight it was called I believe. They told me they stole it from a grey knight brotherhood, doubt it is true though. In the end the play was so convincing I could escape and join some other ships. Currently I am looking for a new ship and a crew, so there is no name I could tell you right know
He pulls the girl from his lap sweethart bring us some more glasses and some of your friends will you, I feel this is going to be a nice evening.
You indeed seem fine gentlemen to me, and don't worrie, I am not here tonight to steal your business.
When the girl comes with some others back he makes himself more comfortable
So you found somehing out of the ordinary? Interesting. I am sure these girls would like to know what you gentlemen are doing with such piece of technology/equipment?Don't really know how to call it As for I am eager to know if you are as good in handling this case as you are in shooting things in half
He takes out his pipe and makes himself look like he is here purely for fun and flirts a bit with the girl while sometimes playing with the ring on his finger.

2012-11-10, 08:12 PM
All except Gethsemane

The excessively loud music abruptly dies down. Zerah queries the system and learns that someone has shut off one of the speakers to lower the volume upstairs. Any gunshots now will be audible to everyone on your floor.

Zerah, Haddon, Lucius, Sythius

The man you're looking for just walked in. He's flanked by a tall man with an ginger goatee. Trask looks a little bit nervous, the man walking beside him is less visibly so, but he scans the crowd with a cautious eye.

They both look over at the bar for a moment, searching for something. The man with the goatee frowns, slightly. The red-headed bartender catches Trask's eyes and smiles at him, but he doesn't give any sign of having seen her. He seems ill at ease.


The men look suitably impressed, although a little dubious.

"So what ship are you talking about that you-" one begins, but then the man with the black beard raps his glass down hard on the table. You watched his eyes flick to Trask, who just entered. They're trying to be subtle about it, but you pick up on it. They all stiffen.

You also notice that one of the four men at the table near the wall just made a hand gesture to the others. They glance over at the door, notice Trask, and nod to each other. You see one of them make eye contact with the black-bearded man over at your table. The man with the girl on his lap hurriedly shoos her away with an apologetic smile as she pretends to pout at him.

"It's been nice talking to you, sir. But I have to go. Catch up with you later, maybe."

He stands, and walks off to the stairs.


One of the four men at the table you were listening to just made a hand gesture to the others. They glance over at the door, notice Trask, and nod to each other. The man with the girl on his lap hurriedly shoos her away with an apologetic smile as she pretends to pout at him.

You head downstairs, passing people on the way, sitting against the walls and chatting. The stairs go down for longer than you might have imagined. The booming music becomes all-encompassing. It's a different song to upstairs, genuine scuzz thresh hits. Exactly the kind of music you want to listen to when you're practically psychotic after a stimm hit, or catatonic from some kind of tranq and lying with your head jammed up against a speaker. Perhaps not so good for people that have unimpaired higher functions.

Dozens of people are jammed into the relatively small dance floor in depression in the center of the room, pressed up against one another as they flail and gyrate to the music under the strobing light. There's several risen poles where girls are dancing, and one stage on a risen platform at the far side. There are a few tables around the edges of the room, but it's still shoulder to shoulder down here. There are about six short staircases on the walls that let up to rooms which hang from the ceiling like misshapen fruits. Some offer good views of the dance floor; you can see one room where several men in Imperial Navy officer uniforms are drinking. One of them appears to be eating or snorting something off a naked girl's stomach. Other rooms have darkened opaque windows; you watch as one goes from see-through to opaque in the blink of an eye. Must be adjustable for those that want privacy.


One of the four men at the table near the wall just made a hand gesture to the others. They glance over at the door, notice Trask, and nod to each other. The man with the girl on his lap hurriedly shoos her away with an apologetic smile as she pretends to pout at him.

A man sitting at Lucius's table just got up and headed downstairs.


Lans doesn't respond to your flirting, though from the way his eyes flick over your body, he's clearly at least a little attracted to you. He's still eyeing you warily, like you're some kind of venomous snake that he thinks is about to lunge forward and bite him. "Alright, Val. I'm short on time. So, let's stop playing games and put all our cards on the table. What do you want me to do, and why should I do it?"

He takes a step or two back from you, and reaches down to pick up his pistol without breaking eye contact. He slowly reaches for the grip with two figures, presumably to demonstrate that he's just retrieving it and doesn't intend to shoot you with it.

Henry the 57th
2012-11-10, 11:29 PM
Sythius voxes the rest of them. "Target sighted. Repeat, target sighted. One companion, probable bodyguard."

2012-11-10, 11:45 PM
"Having all our cards on the table means both of us divulge information. So far, you've given up nothing. I've made a job offer and you're just being silent, so from where I'm standing, it's your turn."

2012-11-11, 12:56 AM

"You tried to kill me, then acted like we should cut a deal, instead. Now you won't tell me what it is you want?"

He chews the inside of his cheek, thinking.

"How's about... I just walk away, take care of my business here. Then afterwards, we can talk terms, get that dinner." He moves towards the door.

2012-11-11, 12:59 AM
"My trying to kill you, as well as my cutting a deal with you, was all about not having you complete your business here. Since getting the coin to leave this miserable station is what you're worried about, working for my employer will be far more rewarding than not -- and it'll get you off Footfall immediately. From there you can depart at your leisure, see the sights, whatever it may be. But getting killed tonight by someone who doesn't look nearly as good as I do? That would just be tragic."

2012-11-11, 01:19 AM
Haddon waits on the stairs, A drink still in hand to give him a reason for being there. Tapping into the micro bead he speaks clearly so that the black clad assassin/senscheal and the two military trained crewmen can hear. "You should take the lead as I am unused to such nefarious activities. What do we do next? When do we grab him?"

Henry the 57th
2012-11-11, 01:23 AM
"I'm not exactly a trained kidnapper." Sythius voxes back. "I was hoping Fiona might help us with that bit. However, she seems to have occupied herself for the moment, so my suggestion is, after those four at the table deal with the bodyguard and any resistance he puts up. Allow them to take the risks."

2012-11-11, 01:26 AM

"So you do want Trask. Or... no, you want what he's trying to buy. Throne, no wonder he's been such a whimpering little girl all night, if he has you and Sythius gunning for him."

Lans flexes the fingers of his metal arm, causing the point of his knife to cut a little figure-of-eight in the air.

"Well, I figure if you kill him before the deal goes down, you'll scare off the seller and get nothing. If you try to frag him while the deal goes down, you'll probably wind up fighting two groups worth of muscle. You don't want that, specially in a place that's crowded like this. Right? So let the deal go down smooth. Let me walk him out of the club, like nothing's wrong. Then I'll hand him over to you like a birthday present, all nice and easy and neatly wrapped."

He smiles at you, twirling the knife in his hands.

"Then if you take me on for, say... twice the annual contract I'm getting now, I'll even kill him for you, if you like. How about that? Most other guys would probably just buy you chocolates or something."

2012-11-11, 02:56 AM
Zerah would have frowned if she'd still had a human mouth at the lack of response she got. ++I need to know what you're planning to do, if I'm going to help you get out with him.++

2012-11-11, 03:04 PM
Ofcourse unaware of the situation of Sythius and Fiona Lucius takes advantage of the situation to turn on his micro bead and wispers to the others.
++ Target just walked in. I may have gained trust of the second party. Do not interfere yet untill I have tried to get more information about the objective.++

Lucius turns to the most friendly and enthousiastic of the three who almost spilled too much about the glasscutter.
Hey who is that guy? You look you have seen a ghost. This man stole something from you, that glasscutter you were talking about? If I could be some help wasting him, that wold be my pleasure, have not seen some action lately.
He pats on what seems like a pistol under his robes and nudges to the guy.

2012-11-12, 02:24 PM
"I never mentioned a name -- and I didn't know Sythius was here for the same reason I was," Fiona said with a shrug. "If I were after someone, don't you think I could kill them myself? All I want is for you to leave the club tonight. I'd rather it not be in a body bag on its way to the crematorium, but it could easily be that if you decide that. I need to see the contract you have now before I can give you a percentage of how much more we're going to give you, but I can assure you, unless you are the Emperor's bodyguard without my knowing it, you'll get your lucre without any trouble.

"You just walk out of the club now, just saunter out, and we'll pay you handsomely and get you off this rock. How's that sound?"

2012-11-13, 06:48 AM
Zerah, Lucius, Sythius

The man with the goatee frowns, and discreetly touches his earpeice, muttering something. He starts to walk with Trask over to the stairs, but they seem to be taking their time about it.


The man with the beard glances at you, looking worried for a second. "What? No, no, it... he has business with our captain. I guess there's no harm in saying that. It ain't none of your concern, though. You'd best stay out of it."


Lans stares at you, considering your offer and looking for elements of betrayal. You notice that he seems to be nodding, vaguely, almost unconsciously.

"Getting paid to not even fire a shot sounds like a damn good deal to me, but if I don't go down with them, they'll know something's up. I already told them about Sythius and some other suspicious characters in here. I told 'em to call the meet off, but Trask wanted to go ahead and see how it played out. How do I know you're good for a blank credit writ if you're-"

There's a muffled voice coming from his pocket. "That'll be them, wondering why I'm not at the bar." He removes his earpiece from his pocket, keeping a thumb firmly over the receiver so that it doesn't pick up what he's saying to you. He looks to you, questioningly. "Your call, Val. What do I tell them?"

Are you being truthful about the offer of payment? Do you intend to betray him if he keeps his end of the deal?

2012-11-13, 08:41 AM
"Say you've met some chick and you were trying to finish up before the meeting, then ask if you can just bring her along to seal the deal later."

Fiona checks for betrayal.

[roll0] v. 46

I really need a better scrutiny.

2012-11-13, 09:05 AM

He clips the vox-bead to his ear.

"Copy that. Yeah, I'm in the toilets. We're green up here. I'll be right down. Met this girl at the bar, gonna bring her along to the exchange."

A pause.

"She's gorgeous. A little intense, but... no, no. She's not a hooker."

A pause.

"No, I'm not gonna 'ask her just to check', you *******. Look, I got this. Just bring the package to his meeting, and I'll meet you before you go up. Was everything clear on the way here?"

He reloads the pistol and then slips it back inside his coat, and looks up at you. He smiles, extends his arm to you as he briefly affects an exaggerated High Gothic accent. "Well. Shall we?"

2012-11-13, 09:07 AM
Fiona holstered her gun and made sure it was hidden before accepting the arm. "Of course, m'lord," she replied in an equally exaggerated accent.

2012-11-13, 09:36 AM
Nightclub people

You see Fiona exit the toilets, arm in arm with the man she followed in. He looks a little... peaked, maybe slightly exhilarated. They walk down the stairs together. Lucius notes that the man who was sitting at his table heads down. The bearded man rummages around in his pocket, produces a vox bead and inserts it into his ear, but doesn't say anything.

I am assuming all your armsmen are blending in upstairs. Are there any downstairs with Haddon?


You walk downstairs with your new date, passing people on the way, sitting against the walls and chatting. The stairs go down for longer than you might have imagined. The booming music becomes all-encompassing. It's a different song to upstairs, genuine scuzz thresh hits. Exactly the kind of music you want to listen to when you're practically psychotic after a stimm hit, or catatonic from some kind of tranq and lying with your head jammed up against a speaker. Perhaps not so good for people that have unimpaired higher functions.

You find Trask and the man with the goatee waiting near the bottom. Trask does not look happy to see you. You notice he's sweating a little. "Who the hell is this bimbo, Lans? Why are you dickin' me around? These people are dangerous and jumpy, Lans, there'll be no..." he flicks his gaze to you, before deciding to speak in an impenetrable code for your benefit, "No travel plans for any of us if they get spooked and-"

"Relax, boss. I've got your back. Havn't I always had your back?" he says, gently. "Let's go make you rich."

He falls in to step with the other two, standing to Trask's side. The man with the goatee looks over, sizes you up. "Well, ain't you a fine-looking specimen. What're you doing hangin' off this sadsack's shoulder?" he drawls at you. You think it's mostly an act; he seems as alert as Lans does.

Dozens of people are jammed into the relatively small dance floor in a depression in the center of the room, pressed up against one another as they flail and gyrate to the music under the strobing light. There's several risen poles where girls are dancing, and one stage on a risen platform at the far side. There are a few tables around the edges of the room, but it's still shoulder to shoulder down here. There are about six short staircases on the walls that let up to rooms which hang from the ceiling like misshapen fruits. Some offer good views of the dance floor; you can see one room where several men in Imperial Navy officer uniforms are drinking. One of them appears to be eating or snorting something off a naked girl's stomach. Other rooms have darkened opaque windows; you watch as one goes from see-through to opaque in the blink of an eye. Must be adjustable for those that want privacy.

The three men head towards one of the private booths near the back of the dance floor.


Fiona just entered, linking arms with the man with the bionic arm from upstairs, walking beside Trask and the man with the goatee. They cross the room, heading towards one of the private booths near the back of the dance floor.

You notice three people loosely tailing them, two from the table you were eavesdropping on, one from the table near the door. They're trying to be inconspicuous, and not doing a great job.

2012-11-13, 09:37 AM

++Fi.. I'm confused. You were just shooting at each other. What's going on? This silly system doesn't like listening. But I can't blame it, I've listened to some of the tracks they make it play. Are they all that awful?++

2012-11-13, 09:45 AM
I'm guessing Zerah attempted to contact Fiona before she started rubbing elbows with the mob.

Fiona surreptitiously glanced at a camera and winked, hoping it would convey the message. It was difficult to not be able to talk to her friend, but there were more important things afoot. Fiona looked for Sythius as she and Lans made their way downstairs, hoping to catch his attention.

Once downstairs, she put a finger in her hair and twirled it around, eyes moving all over the club in classic 'what am I doing here, this isn't where you said you'd take me' fashion. When the man with the goatee asked her a question, Fiona smiled and shrugged. "Lansy just shorta getsh me, y'know? He's like... he can shober me up with jushta look... I think I love him."

2012-11-13, 09:56 AM
Zerah gets in touch with the others. ++Fiona's meeting Trask and the others but she's fine, I think. You should all be ready though, for when things adjust. I'll let you know if it looks bad.++


++I asked the others to get ready. Eyes on you. Hold two fingers towards a camera if you're going to need help.++


Yus. Me and SJ just happened to post at the same time. ^^

Henry the 57th
2012-11-13, 11:45 AM

Sythius will be keeping a careful and surreptitious eye on Fiona and Lans, his hand always ready to go to his hidden pistol if fighting breaks out.

2012-11-13, 01:34 PM
Gethsemane is getting antsy outside, but he keeps his cool. He isn't the type to lose control easily, so responds to Zerah.

"She's meeting him presently? To gather information, I assume? Inform her I wish to capture him alive. If she asks: He's a very valuable prize."

2012-11-13, 03:18 PM
++She can't talk to me now. Why is he valuable beyond finding the guncutter? The other man seems to be worth more, he has a bionic arm that should be freed from him if possible.++

2012-11-13, 04:08 PM
Haddon clocks Trask and the rather unsurprising form of Fiona heading to a booth. How does she do that? he wonders idely to himself.

More wary of the 3 men following Trask he pushes gently through he crowd following the men intent on violence. His hand slipping to the hilt of the pistol as he does so. His other hand reaching twoards the hat lest he need to unveil the power of his warp eye...

2012-11-14, 09:20 AM
"He's wanted by the Ecclesiarchy. He stole a Gellar Field from a pilgrim vessel. He's the lowest of the low, and capturing him will stand our Lord-Captain in good stead with both the Church and the Emperor," responds Gethsemane to Zerah.

"It will open up many business opportunities in the future, and will serve the cause of Imperial justice."

2012-11-14, 09:41 AM
Annoyance and dislike warred with logic, before Zerah sent Fiona another brief message. Besides, recovering a geller field was also a worthwhile goal.

++Commander Gethsemane says Trask is worth a lot alive. He's wanted by the church.++

2012-11-16, 09:13 AM
When the man tells Lucius not to bother he waits untill the men went downstairs then follows them without them noticing. He does not want to draw attention of the men he follows because they know he has firearms on him therefore he takes the girl with him so it seems more casual. He does not undertake any action yet and maybe just appears to be curipus about the 3 men handling the situation to observe their proffessionality.

2012-11-17, 06:11 AM
Lucius, Sythius

One man from Lucius's table and two men from the other table headed downstairs. Lucius is still sitting with two people unless he makes his excuses and leaves. Fiona and the others went downstairs and into a booth; are you following them down? Also, where are your armsmen right now? If you don't give them orders I'll assume they're milling around on the upper floor.


((Going to try to get the meeting done quickly, but I don't want to steam past any actions you might take... best way to handle this is if you want to cut someone off by leaping up and shooting anyone, or similar, feel free to interrupt this narrative at any point, and I'll edit it to accommodate how thing shake out different as a result of your actions. Otherwise, if you want to just keep completely quiet and follow them out, it can stand as is.))

Your group walks towards a booth near the end of the room, and exchanges a look with a man standing at it’s door. He nods, knocks on the door for you, and someone inside opens it.

You head up a short flight of stairs, to a room ringed with comfortable leather seats and a small table with drinks on it. Three men are inside. Two are musclebound gorillas, the other a slender man with long brown hair tied into a ponytail, but the skinnier one is clearly in control. He glances over at you, expressionlessly.

”What the hell is this? Two bodyguards each, is what was said. If you’re planning a screwjob, you did not bring enough firepower.” He growls.

"And it seems that you did." Lans replies, calmly. "You’I count maybe eight of your guys out there, keeping watch on the place and trying to look natural, and you’re making an issue at one extra gun on our side. Looking at that, a man might get to think you’re not on the level. You are on the level, Captain Atralos?” He sits down.

The man with the brown hair spreads his arms in a “ya-got-me” gesture. ”It was a lot of money, you were offering. Figured you might get buyer’s remorse. You’re Trask?"

"That’s me." Trask says, stepping forwards and sitting beside his bodyguard. He seems to be anxious, but doing a fairly good job of hiding it. "There’s no screwjob. This guncutter is important to my employer. They are grateful to their friends, hence the price, but they would be very angry if it was… lost, but-"

"Are you threatening me, Mr Trask? Seems like this guncutter’s my property, and I can do what I want with it."

"No threats.” Lans interjects, gently. "We’re all here for business. Mr Trask has the payment, if you can produce the spacecraft. Can I push you two along to making the trade? Your men aren’t the only suspicious characters here tonight. I heard some things to suggest we might have a third party interested in your guncutter. The leak wasn’t on our end; I’m sure you’ll say it wasn’t on yours. Mr Trask?”

Trask is staring at you oddly, like he’s not sure what you’re doing here, and your presence worries him. He’s jolted out of his reverie by Lans, and nods. He produces a sheaf of documents from his coat; you recognize them as pay-scripts, like some merchant guilds or rogue trader houses use. Hard to trace, incredibly hard to forge, and worth a lot of money, in the quantities he’s holding.

"Pay-scrips of House Vill equal to the sum agreed, including the money already transferred. Now, where is the guncutter?”

The man referred to as Captain Atralos nods, checking the documents over.
"Well, look at that. A man of his word. I don’t like this implication we got other parties here. They ain’t mine, and if they ain’t yours… why, then we’ll go together. We’ll walk you to where it’s being stored, over in the-.”

"Wait. Best not to say it out loud. Write down where we’re heading on this pad, and then you can walk us over there, and we’ll complete the trade then. As a… security measure, how’s about we walk out the club a different way?”

He nods, accepting the pad and typing on it. Trask and his other bodyguard frown at this turn of events, but don’t want to say anything in front of the other guys. "Alright, Trak, we’ll do it the way your boy says. But if I think you’re screwing with us, I will kill the three of you with my bare hands. Do we have an understanding?" He dons a vox-bead and speaks into it. "We're leaving. Watch us go, we've got someone after us.”

"And if I think you’re screwing with us, my last action before I go see the Emperor will be to burn your damn scrips, and your people can go back to peddling scrap metal for pocket change.”

Everyone rises, gets ready to exit.

Haddon, Zerah

Fiona's group walks towards a booth near the end of the room, and exchanges a look with a man standing at it’s door. He nods, knocks on the door for them, and someone inside opens it. They head up into it. The windows are opaque.

Are you planning to do anything before or after they emerge, or just keep clear?

2012-11-17, 07:33 AM
Zerah keeps yes on the cameras near the meeting. She may not be abl to see fine details, but she can at least be ready if anything visible takes place.

2012-11-17, 08:31 AM
All except Fiona

Someone (you would guess Fiona) has turned up their vox-bead to maximum gain, so you can hear muffled music which quickly goes quiet, and then faintly hear a conversation being transmitted over the vox.

”What the hell is this? Two bodyguards each, is what was said. If you’re planning a screwjob, you did not bring enough firepower.” a voice growls.

"And it seems that you did." A calm voice replies. "I count maybe eight of your guys out there, keeping watch on the place and trying to look natural, and you’re making an issue at one extra gun on our side. Looking at that, a man might get to think you’re not on the level. You are on the level, Captain Atralos?”

”It was a lot of money, you were offering. Figured you might get buyer’s remorse. You’re Trask?"

"That’s me. There’s no screwjob. This guncutter is important to my employer. They are grateful to their friends, hence the price, but they would be very angry if it was… lost, but-"

"Are you threatening me, Mr Trask? Seems like this guncutter’s my property, and I can do what I want with it."

"No threats.” the calm voice interjects, gently."We’re all here for business. Mr Trask has the payment, if you can produce the spacecraft. Can I push you two along to making the trade? Your men aren’t the only suspicious characters here tonight. I heard some things to suggest we might have a third party interested in your guncutter. The leak wasn’t on our end; I’m sure you’ll say it wasn’t on yours. Mr Trask?”

A short pause. "Pay-scrips of House Vill equal to the sum agreed, including the money already transferred. Now, where is the guncutter?”

Another pause. "Well, look at that. A man of his word. I don’t like this implication we got other parties here. They ain’t mine, and if they ain’t yours… why, then we’ll go together. We’ll walk you to where it’s being stored, over in the-”

"Wait. Best not to say it out loud. Write down where we’re heading on this pad, and then you can walk us over there, and we’ll complete the trade then. As a… security measure, how’s about we walk out the club a different way?”

"Alright, Trask, we’ll do it the way your boy says. But if I think you’re screwing with us, I will kill the three of you with my bare hands. Do we have an understanding?" A short pause. He says again, in a different tone of voice, "We're leaving. Watch us go, we've got someone after us.”

"And if I think you’re screwing with us, my last action before I go see the Emperor will be to burn your damn scrips, and your people can go back to peddling scrap metal for pocket change.”

There's a scraping sound, like a chair being pushed back.

2012-11-17, 08:34 AM
Everyone downstairs

You spot Fiona exit the group and join the man at the door. There are seven of them, including Trask and has two bodyguards.

If you have any actions you wanted to take immediately, make them now. Otherwise, everyone make an Awareness check, and then roll for initiative.

2012-11-17, 09:17 AM
[roll0] v. 46 for Awareness.
[roll1] + 6 for Initiative
[roll2] v. 104 for Standard Attack, which cannot jam, so that is a hit.
[roll3] + 3, Pen 2. Probably won't kill him, but we'll see.

EDIT: Head shot, 23 damage, Pen 2.

Fiona lingered behind, waiting until she was the last to go down the stairs. As most of the individuals exited the staircase, she turned the gain down on her microbead again. "Keep Trask alive," she whispered into it before drawing her gun and shooting at Atralos.

Louder she said, "That's what you get for betraying us!"

2012-11-17, 09:52 AM

Gethsemane has contacted Zerah, asking her a favour,

"Can you triangulate the location of the Lady Fiona's vox? I want to know her precise location should we need to intervene."

He has readied his hammer, and has had his armsmen, all old-school riot cop types, to stand still in key locations, so that a triangulation is nice and easy, using radio pickups.

2012-11-17, 10:13 AM
Zerah immediately adjusts the sounds around the group, to muffle the risk of outside parties being drawn in. Everyone in the club is immediately voxed. ++Drive them down the corridor to the left! I can secure that area!++

Gethsemane receives another vox, a grid location offered first, one outside and near a secondary door to the club.

++Move there. They may need help coming out.++

Finally, she hails the ship's admech through the shuttle's systems, various codes transmitted to confirm her status and identify.

++Requesting activation of teleportatium. A retrieval of assets may be required.++

For SJ

The corridor in question ends in that office you mentioned.
Initative: [roll0]
Awareness (Do I get bonuses from the cameras?): [roll1]

2012-11-17, 10:22 AM
Joshua Gethsemane suppresses a grin. It was time to toss all that subtle nonsense out the airlock and get to the real stuff. Yes. Yes it was.

"Move! Follow the Tech-Priest's orders! I want prisoners! Take them alive!" he yells down the vox.

He then takes a run at the door Zerah plans on having the others exit through. There was no point in going through the bouncers at the front door: If he walked through there, he'd probably have to kill the poor bastards. If he went around them, in this very violent fashion, there'd be less needless killing.

A few seconds later, his hammer connected with the door, exploding with a crash...

To be fair, he mostly did this for dramatic effect, to put the fear of the Throne into their enemies.

Okay, attack roll, should it be necessary:

[roll0] WS 50 + 10 charge + 5 weapon + ? for immobile target + ? size
[roll1]+14 damage Pen 10

Edit: Should hit the door for 28 damage, Pen 10. I imagine that it being immobile, and its size makes it easy to hit.

Henry the 57th
2012-11-17, 11:20 AM
Sythius whirls as he hears the sound of gunfire. He flings himself behind the bar, before grabbing his own concealed weapon, taking careful aim, and shooting Trask's bodyguard in the head.

Full Action: Called shot to goatee's face

[roll0] vs. 83

2012-11-17, 11:54 AM
Zerah, Sythius, Haddon

As the men file out of the booth, with Fiona at the back, two things happen very quickly.

The first is that Fiona whips out her antique laspistol and fires at the man in front of her, a skinny, wiry-looking guy with long brown hair in a ponytail. Half a second before he fires, he seems to turn as if sensing that something’s wrong, but the blast takes him in the side of the head and knocks him sidewards. His hair immediately explodes in to flames and flies away from him like sparks from a bonfire, and he screams, shrieking in agony. His ponytail drops to the ground, a burning lump of ash.

Lans pulls a small, blocky object from his coat at around the same time, and stares with horror at Fiona. He mutters something, flicks the object with his thumb, and throws it towards the entrance to the booth, before yelling at Trask and his colleague, gesturing towards the door that Zerah recognizes as leading to the corridor with the security office, the ladder, and the dancer’s dressing room.

The panic from the las-shot is near-immediate. The nearest people to see it start screaming and pushing to get away, and then Lan’s grenade goes off, exploding in to a foul yellow smoke.

At the end of the first initiative round, the crowd will panic and attempt to flee. For next 3 rounds of the combat (before the crowd clears) all combatants will have their Agility Bonus (and thus their movements) reduced by half by jostling bodies. It also means that all combatants will randomly gain cover (see page 246) against ranged attacks as bystanders soak up fire and catch bullets. Every time you shoot, please roll a d10; on a 1–5 your target is hit as normal, while on a 6–10 they gain 8 APs of cover.


As the men file out of the booth, you produce your pistol with a grace and lack of hesitation that would make your teachers proud.

Half a second before you fire at the man in front of you, he seems to turn as if sensing that something’s wrong, but the blast takes him in the side of the head and knocks him sidewards. His hair immediately explodes in to flames and flies away from him like sparks from a bonfire, and he screams, shrieking in agony. His ponytail drops to the ground, a burning lump of ash.

Lans pulls a small, blocky object from his coat almost at the same time as you do this, and stares at you with horror. He mutters “Screw dinner”, and then turns a tiny valve on the object with his thumb, and hurls it towards you. He yells at Trask and his colleague, gesturing towards the door off to the left side.

The panic from the las-shot is near-immediate. The nearest people to see it start screaming and pushing to get away, and then Lan’s grenade goes off, exploding in to a foul yellow smoke. Give me a dodge roll, no bonus from Chameoline. If you fail, roll a Difficult (-10) Toughness test.

At the end of the first initiative round, the crowd will panic and attempt to flee. For next 3 rounds of the combat (before the crowd clears) all combatants will have their Agility Bonus (and thus their movements) reduced by half by jostling bodies. It also means that all combatants will randomly gain cover (see page 246) against ranged attacks as bystanders soak up fire and catch bullets. Every time you shoot, please roll a d10; on a 1–5 your target is hit as normal, while on a 6–10 they gain 8 APs of cover.

2012-11-17, 12:25 PM
Fiona frowned, the hallucinogenic gases exploding outwards and filling the stairwell. Luckily, she had time to take a deep breath and avoid the mind-bending effects of the taking a step forward to prevent herself from being caught in the blast. She leveled the laspistol on the imbecile and took aim.

"You think you can just betray the Vill dynasty and get away with it, Lans, you ----ing snake? We will see you dead for this, you understand!" She might as well sow some confusion in as best she could, in case her shot didn't go off as planned.

Half Action Aim
Standard Action Shot: [roll0] v. 104 (aim, accurate, MIU, high ground, short range, standard shot)

15 Damage, Pen 2. In the body.

2012-11-17, 12:33 PM
If the group were hoping to take refuge behind the security's office solid door, they were dissapointed. With a heavy k'clunk! sound, it firmly locked itself against any entry barring heavy weapons, equipment or skilled hacking.

And Zerah was already on that sort of thing.

2012-11-18, 09:02 AM
All downstairs and Zerah:

Sythius leaps behind the cover of a countertop with the practiced efficiency born of a hundred firefights, and draw a bead on the bodyguard. In his haste, he jerks the trigger too hard, and the shot goes wide over the man’s head.

As quickly as it appeared, the smoke dissipates, though it settles on the skin of those affected. Fiona can feel her mind start to play tricks on her, creatively interpreting the shadows on the walls, but she avoided taking a breath of the gas, and her physical resilience and training helps her fight off the hallucinations. Others are not so lucky. One of the men who exited alongside the man who got shot in the face suddenly drops to the ground, screaming.


Another immediately flattens himself against the wall, staring up at you all you in gaping, incredulous horror, his lips moving silently. Some clubgoers who were milling around nearby are also caught in the gas: a woman dressed in stockings and lingerie starts shrieking hysterically, repeatedly slamming her fist into her leg and slamming her leg on the ground. The two men who were standing at her side suddenly blink, and grin. They both get identical cunning expressions on their faces, and scurry off to the side.

One of the three is unaffected, and with a cry of anger, he runs full-tilt towards Lans, aiming to knock him down. He can’t quite get a grip on his midriff as Lans reflexively turns sideways and wards him off with a quick kick.

There’s an angry shout from the crowd, and three of the men who followed you from downstairs suddenly try to push through the crowd towards the man who got shot in the head. Two of them clearly want to come to grips with the culprits, but are making slow progress through the press of people. One of them produces a stub automatic that was taped to his calf, and fires rapidly in Fiona’s direction, stymied by her shifting cloak.

Fiona swings her pistol to bear on Lans as he reaches for another weapon. He makes an attempt to dodge, but he’s much too slow, the beam passing over the shoulder of the pirate who’s trying to grab ahold of him and punching him in the chest. The beam nearly knocks him off his feet, but the burn spreads over his chest rather than just setting the fabric aflame, indicating he’s wearing some kind of mesh armor.

As gunfire erupts around him, Trask’s eyes go wide. With a cry of "Frak, frak, FRAK!" he turns and bolts for the door that Lans indicated earlier, fumbling with the handle and slamming through it, ignoring the shouted order from his other bodyguard that he should stay close to them.

Lucius’ bolt-pistols appear in his hands so quickly it’s like they were always there, it’s just that nobody saw them. They flare in unison, the massive recoil of the oversized weapons jolting his arms in a familiar and not unwelcome sort of way. The shot is made difficult by the presence of the man who’s trying to grapple with Lans, or hug him, or something, and one of the bolts goes wide, slamming a fist-sized hole in the wall immediately behind him. The other takes Lans in the lower chest, cutting through his mesh armor like tissue-paper. Lucius is perhaps disappointed not to see the secondary explosion of the bolt-shell detonating after penetrating the target- it happens sometimes, on hits that don’t strike enough flesh- but nevertheless, there’s a satisfactorily large hole in the man now, through which he’s losing quite a lot of blood, quite quickly.

Lucius has a sinking feeling as he realizes this is probably the cleanest shot he’s going to get, as the crowd is about to stampede, providing his target with the cover of dozens of moving bodies. A detached part of his mind realises that bolters oftimes penetrate through soft tissue, and that even if Lans were to grab a person as a human shield, it wouldn't guarantee that he’d be fully protected from a good shot.

Zerah watches the fray from her cameras, and spies Trask disappearing off one camera and appearing in the hall. With a soft click, she engages the locks on the heavy door to the cash office, ensuring he won’t be able to seek refuge in there. It doesn’t stop him from trying, and Zerah can see him yell in anguish as the door won’t budge.

The man who got shot in the head screams again. Almost like his grievous headwound is the only thing that’s going on right now, the self-absorbed bastard. He yells into his vox-bead "Get down here now, it’s an ambush! Now now now-" in between his cries of pain, and blindly staggers off in a direction that he fervently hopes is out of the line of fire. He slams in to one person that’s frantically trying to get away, and shoves them aside on panicked reflex. They’re knocked to the ground, and their face is immediately trod on by a dancing girl in high heels. She stumbles and falls, too.

Lans turns and runs for the door, drawing an autopistol as he goes. He takes cover at the door, spins, and fires a shot at Lucius. It goes wide, smashing through the opaque glass of one of the booths at ground level. The glass immediately goes transparent, revealing a chubby man in an Imperium naval uniform, minus the trousers. The girl who had her face between his legs reacts considerably faster than he does, hitting the floor and covering her head like an Imperial Stormtrooper coming under heavy bolter fire. He stares for a second, and then lunges for his jacket, which is lying across a table. He stumbles due to the fact his trousers are halfway down his legs, then fumbles for the holster at his jacket.

Initiative Order (Haddon is up):
Sythius: 14
Pirate group A (Three outside the booth): 12
Pirate group B (Three people from upstairs): 11
Fiona: 10
Trask: 10
Zerah: 9
Lucius: 7
Captain Adipose: 6 (Energy critical sustained to head, blind for 1 round
Lans: 6
>Haddon: 5
Goatee bodyguard: 5
Gethsemane: 5

Bare in mind that rules for moving through crowds are in effect, except for Haddon and Fiona if they wish to hug the wall and move towards the door (or away from it).

Fiona, you've been hit twice by stub automatic fire. 11 and 9 damage respectively. You may roll your dodge.

2012-11-18, 10:09 AM
Haddon reacts slowly. Unused to being in a firefight - in fact this a first for him. Fumbling at the back of his jacket he pulls out the pistol at his belt and spins towards the men standing near Fiona. Not daring to aim at the ones trying to grapple her he aims at the one that just shot her. The engraved hell pistol bucking in his hands, the shot going low towards the man's leg.

Draw pistol
Fire single shot [roll0] TN 37+10short range
Damage [roll1] PEN7

8 damage PEN 7 to the right leg

@Lucretia:- What bonus are you getting for "standard shot". That's only in BC. RT doesn't have that change.
- At least I am confident about semi-auto RoF and Storm weapons in this system :smallsmile: