Suffer The Little Children [Dark Heresy] - IC

Olympus, Phrenz & Heironymous

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As the footsteps came too close, Heironymous sprang from his hiding-place, the butt of his shotgun cracking into Simeon's forehead - with a howl of pain, the man staggered back, clutching his skull.

"Please!" he screamed, cowering away from the Provost - he was doubled over from the blow, and had not yet seen Heironymous' face. "Please, don't hurt me! I'll do anything! God-Emperor, please..."

Heironymous Only

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Seriously, Heironymous Only. Other players get out.

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If I find someone else has been reading these, it's gonna start raining anvils around that particular PC.

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Pathetic. He's practically soiling himself.

We don't need this mewling ape, Heironymous. A jumped-up shopkeeper. He knows nothing. Paint the floor with his brains.

"We're looking for information. Who owns that ship?" Phrenz gestured towards the ship as he spoke, not particularly caring if Simeon was looking.

Heironymous, Olympus & Phrenz

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"I don't know! I don't take names!" whimpered the man, still cowering away as he clutched his skull. "Some off-world woman, and a couple of grunts with her. Looked like mercs. Please, don't hurt me!"

Phrenz grinned behind his respirator. Looks like this lead had paid off. "This woman, what did she look like? And did she say when she was going to return?"

"Oh my" Olympus says as he walks towards the man. "In five seconds here, we have gotten closer to finding our friend than we have after hours at the custom's office. I wonder if she left behind the keys..."

Heironymous, Olympus & Phrenz

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"Um - ah, red hair," stammered the man, "sharp face, a few old scars. She didn't say when she was coming back, just put down a week's charges up front, said I could keep it all if they left early."

Taking a faltering step back, he uncurled a little as further violence failed to materialise - looking up at his interrogators, he caught sight of Heironymous.

"Hey, it's you! What's this for? I've done nothing wrong!"

Right or wrong are for the Emperor to decide, these things are beyond us." Olympus answers Instead of the Provost.
Turning to Phrenz, he asks:

"Are we going to setup an ambush for here and wait here for a week? If she has realized that her ship has been blacklisted, she may very well not return. Assuming its her were talking about, and not someone who looks like her. We could try forcing our way inside right away, and see if we can get any leads."

Heironymous, Olympus & Phrenz

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"You can't do that!" said Hayle, recovering a semblance of a spine in a sudden surge of panic. "I mean - her friends looked like trouble, what am I going to say if they find someone's broken into their ship?" He looked between the three of them in desperation. "Who are you, anyway. This is against the law. I could call the Enforcers!"

[hr]

Jericus

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Still in the midst of his labours in the raw data of the Administratum files, Jericus wearily plodded back to the terminal at which he had been working, shifting the growing piles of dusty parchment that had accumulated there out of the way to place another sheaf of papers down on the desk. Following the authorisation codes he had found, he brought up the sector’s traffic logs for Port Tabernos, a vast list of names and dates in tiny, green characters spouting up onto the flickering blackness of the screen in front of him. A primitive locator engine blinked at him from the corner – after a few failed attempts to master its archaic input requirements, he got it to work, picking out names from the morass.

MEGAERA_MERRICK

No matches.

MERRICK

No matches.

MERIC*[permute]

4731 matches. Please narrow your search.

ALEXEI_LYSENKO

The screen flashed, then went black. Blinking in surprise, the tech-priest watched as a small box appeared in the place of the landings list.

Information Restricted. Lectoprioritas 050 or higher required to access. Please identify.

Lectoprioritas ratings were Cult Mechanicus encryption. Jericus has a Lectoprioritas rating of his own – 720, far too low to access this information. 050 signified a high-ranking member of the Cult, a Magos or better.

The box began to blink at him.

Please identify.

[hr]

Red

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After an uneventful couple of hours of observation, Red looked up as an unusual figure appeared on the street outside – a man in ragged overalls was wandering down the street in the opposite direction to the general flow of people, wearing a crudely-constructed sandwich-board. Unlike the vast majority of the passers-by, he had a full head of dirty, matted hair, his wild beard in a similar state – he moved haltingly, wobbling through the crowd as if he wasn’t sure it was really there.

Periodically, he stopped to shout something – Red couldn’t make out what he was saying through the glass of the window. As he turned for a moment, the guardsman managed to pick up what was scrawled on the sandwich-board:

The Watchers Are Waiting

Red immediately snaps to attention and takes aim for a second on the poor sot's head, taking in the entire scene.
After suddenly deciding that shooting this man for no reason would be bad form, the Guardsmen holsters his laspistol and pours a fresh cup of recaf, taking both with him out into the street.
The immediate air he wants to display is a Guardsmen on a recaf break.

What he's really doing, however, is wandering closer to the doomspeaker so he can listen to the man's ramblings.

"We are the law here, good sir." Olympus says. "You'd best comply with the Will of the Emperor by waiting quietly until we are finished talking. We wouldn't want you to do something stupid... and lose your head..." He continues, as he runs a gloved hand across the blade of the scythe.

Heironymous, Olympus & Phrenz

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Hayle gulped.

“Yes sir,” he murmured, in a voice strangled by fear.

[hr]

Red

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Sandwich-board man had taken up position in the centre of the street – a motor vehicle sounded its horn as he stumbled into its path, the lonely figure staggering back out of its path.

“Listen to me!” he shouted, holding up his arms. “You must listen! They don’t want you to, but you must!”

The passers-by continued to ignore him.

“I’m not meant to be here! The Watchers tried to take me away! They’re afraid of me! Listen to me!”

He tried to shake a passing man by the shoulders – rolling his eye, the worker shrugged him off, continuing on his way.

“They’re children! Don’t you see? The children are children!”

Another vehicle gave him a blast of its horn as he stumbled back into the road. He shook a fist furiously in its wake as it rumbled past.

“Why are they hiding them? He’s coming! Can’t you understand! This is a punishment! We have sinned against the God-Emperor! The sins of the children will be visited upon the fathers!"

"Death awaits you! You have made a covenant with death, and with the ravenous void you are in agreement! You're all going to die! Don't you realise? Can't you see! You’re all going to die! DIE!”

With a plaintive wail, he began to wander off along the street, the same disjointed refrains still spilling from his cracked lips...

With the stride and cadence of an experienced Hiver, Red moves briskly through the crowd, sliding in between the thronging masses of Humanity to reach the rambler, and taps the man on the shoulder.
Whether or not the man turns to look, Red will motion off-handedly to the sanctuary and inform Sandwich board that "We need to talk. Privately. I want to know what you know."

Red

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Turning, the doomsayer stared at Red with vacant eyes.

“They all want to know! Wouldn’t they like to know! But they know that I know! That’s why they’re afraid!”

He seized Red by the shoulders, white spittle flecking the corners of his mouth.

“There is a curse upon this sector! They have turned from the Emperor’s Light, and their false idols will consume them! He is coming! His hour comes round at last, slouching towards Scintilla to be born!”

He leaned in close, his odorous breath gusting in Red’s face.

“They will make slaves of men’s minds. There will be no more free will – only their will! We're all going to die!”

Red uses his free hand to grip the man by the shoulder, tight.
"Whatever it is. You need to tell me. Now. I can stop it. My friends can stop it. But we need to know." as Red speaks, he steadily increases pressure to the point on top of the shoulder, attempting to subtly guide the lunatic back to his safe haven.

"Were going to need a laz-cutter to get trough that shuttle-door. Got anything like that around these parts, I doubt you would have something like that around these parts now would you..?" He asks the cowering man.

Red

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The sandwich-board prophet pulled away, alarm in his eyes.

“No – I have to tell the people! They have to listen!” He narrowed his eyes at Red, extending a grimy finger. “You’re with them! They want to take me away, but I won’t let them! I won’t be silenced!”

His voice had risen to a shout again – several of the passers-by were slowing to watch as they passed.

[hr]

Olympus, Heironymous & Phrenz

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”Nothing like that,” said Hayle, trying not to make eye contact. “This is just a shuttle-shed, mister.”

"Where's the nearest repair shop then?" - He continues with his interrogation.

Heironymous, Olympus & Phrenz

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"Pilate's, down on block 32C," said Simeon. "Please, don't do it, sir. They'll have my guts for a scarf if someone cuts up their ship..."

"Don't worry about it, we haven't decided if were doing it yet or not. Regardless, You should not worry about them anymore. You can enjoy your earnings, your responsibility in this matter is absolved. Odds are the woman WILL lose her head when she comes back, but not because she's surprised about her ship." He says, grinning.

"Phrenz, were going to need thrones if we want to rent one those things... Hmmm..." Turning back to the man. "On second thought, Your ill-gotten gain are about to be confiscated by the Inquisition. I suggest you hand over the woman's payment."

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[roll0] for any necessary roll, intimidate or something else.

Heironymous, Olympus & Phrenz

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"The Inquisition?"

If it was possible, Mr Hayle went even whiter.

"Yes - I - I'll go get them - can I go?" he asked, pointing tentatively towards the office door.

"I will go with you." Olympus says, moving towards him.

Heironymous, Olympus & Phrenz

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Cowering in the assassin's shadow, Hayle made his way back into the cluttered office - opening a safe-box in the wall, he pulled out a bundle of promissory notes, clearly Administratum mint.

"That's everything she gave me, I swear."

Red narrowed his eyes at the prophet, and dropped his free hand to his pistol grip.
"You dare accuse me of Hersey?" he growled as he loosened the safety catch on the holster. "If I wanted you silenced, you would have gotten a las bolt between the eyes the moment you walked on to this street." He continues, slowly de-escalating the amount of threat in his voice and relaxing his hand from the 'ready-to-kill' position. "I want you to live and tell the people, but the first of all people you must tell from here on out is me."
By this point, he has calmed down enough to not be assuming a stance any more threatening than the one he walked up here with.

Red

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"You are a confident man. Too confident? The Watchers are always watching. Deceivers, all! They deceived us, down into the dark places. Death in the darkness."

He pointed a trembling finger at Red's chest.

"Prove your faith!"

"Well, this should help." He says, walking back towards Phrenz. "Heironymus, you stay here with Phrenz. I will go rent out the Laz-cutter and return, I should be back soon."

Then, he continues on outside and heads to the repair shop at the address mentioned by the man.

Red looks around the street to gauge those passing by, and then reaches out with a finger and draws a quick I with three crossbars in the air, shielding as much of it as he can from the street.

Olympus

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Leaving the Hangar, it did not take Olympus long to locate the repair-shop: the owner was a little wary about letting the las-cutter out of his premises, but the assassin's 'confiscated' funds soon changed his mind.

Tools in hand, he headed back towards Hayle's establishment.

OOC: Hayle gave you 200 thrones. Hiring the las-cutter costs you 40, of which 20 are a deposit that you can reclaim on returning it.

[hr]

Red

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The street prophet's eyes widened.

"The Emperor's hand is near!" he said. Turning to the street at large, he raised his voice in a joyous shout: "Repent! For he will smite the wicked, and cast them into the fiery pit! The reckoning of the God-Emperor is at hand!"

Turning back to Red, he clasped the guardsman's hand in his own dirty paws.

"Lead, and I will follow!" he whispered, hoarsely.

"Now were getting somewhere: Let's get started!" He says as he places the Laz Cutter by the shuttle door and activates it, when finished he will proceed to do the same to the two hatches.

Red escorts the street-preacher to the safe haven, and pulls up a seat and a fresh mug of recaf for the man.
Sitting down at his Sniper-Nest, Red scans the street again.
"Talk to me," he says, simply, turning again to face to prophet.
"Tell me what's happening."

Red

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“The children! They came, they came with honeyed words and silver tongues, but there were those of us who knew better. Deacon Klovis knew better! The Watchers saw our faith, they drew us down into the dark places and scattered our flock to the shadows. The people turned their back on Redemption!”

“I have seen what they scheme! The God-Emperor whispers it to me in my sleep. They would infect the Blessed Ministorum with their taint, they would serve up all of Sibellus to their masters! They wait only for their prophet, the arch-heretic who will rise to lead them! He will make slaves of men’s minds!”

Spittle flew from the man’s mouth, his staring eyes seeming not to see the cooling mug of recaf Red had left him with.

“The true creed of the Emperor is written in the blood of martyrs! It is sealed in the fires of salvation! That is the creed of the Redemption! They subvert the spirit of man, they quench the righteous fires of hate! That is not the God-Emperor’s word, it is the design of their masters! The Watchers! Always, watching!”