'R.S. Ophiuchi A/B' - IC

[Lycan 01]

The Cleric smiles in a knowing manner. "I'll keep my name to myself for the time being. Its not important right now. Besides, I think you'll find this more interesting..." he says as he holds up the strange bolt pistol and the box of 30 custom bullets. "Mind telling me what this is?"

[Ecks Dee]

Spoiler

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Ordinary (+10) trade (armourer) check to ID the pistol.

[♠Spade♠]

An extra set of heavy footsteps could be heard entering the armory; purposeful, even, and strong. They revealed themselves to be a pair of standard issue Guard combat boots, and attached to those boots was a tall, well-built man with short, raggedly cut black hair and blue eyes so pale they were nearly gray. The boots were clean and well polished, yet they were replete with cuts and patches of missing leather. The uniform was also clean in addition to being well pressed and ironed. Yet it showed signs of fading and if one looked closely, they could see a number of rips and tears in the tough fabric that had been sewn back together. There were some areas of darker fabric on the arms, chest, and lapels, implying they had once been covered with patches and insignia of some type. The word Wolfe could just barely be read from the old name tag sewn above the left breast pocket, which had rectangular creases from the Primer he kept there. In his left hand, he held a data slate.

The big man marched towards Aquairre, straight-backed and measured, stopping just short of the Inquisitor before coming to attention and saluting. "Victus Wolfe reporting, as ordered. I apologize for the delay, I'm told the reason for it should be apparent from this." So saying, he presented the data slate.

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Ecks Dee, I've PM'd you with the file that would have been on the data slate.

[Saldre]

Several cables extend from the darkness, unnecessarily surrounding the Tech-priest and his extended weapon.

Should he look towards them, he would notice at their very ends tiny claws on some and red glowing orbs on others.

Without warning, the entire shadowy outline of the priest slides forward: much faster than you would expect something of his size to be.

He places an arm over your shoulder, letting the Injectors at the tip of his fingers run across the weapon. His face leans forward on the other side, far too close for comfort, the two yellow orbs glowing eerily in the corner of your vision...

"ThisSss... this isSs..."

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(1d100)[43]

"... an intresSssting trinket..." He hisses, as he slides away from the Priest, dragging his various cables back into the darkness with him.

"A common quality modified flare-gun.... "sSspitfire"... to be precisSse... perhaps you have bought it... thinking it wasSs a bolt-pisSsstol?" He snickers from the shadows.

"sSstill... there isSs something... peculiar... about it... it will make for a potent weapon... my kind... of weapon...." He finishes, the hooded cowl turning back into the darkness.

The faint tapping of keys be heard once more as the Tech-priest resumes his work.

[Ecks Dee]

Kobras turns, observing Wolfe with a sudden interest.

'Wolfe? It's an honour to have you. My old contacts spoke very highly of your skills - someone of your, ahem, history, should be well-equipped for this mission.

He extends a hand to the guardsman. Finally, someone to match his own geno-enhanced physique. Having made this gesture, he downloads a few files to the dataslate.

'There are some of the mission parameters that we have available. Not a lot, I'm afraid, but such is this imperfect world. Additionally, as you can see, the other members of your team are helping themselves to the armoury - you might want to have a look yourself. Familiarise yourself with the other acolytes.

Archilius

As Archilius taps away at the cogitator, something strange happens. A moment of weakness, faintness, and of being temporarily 'cut adrift', as every bionic system in his body skips a beat. Cybernetic arrhythmia.

Strange images flash across his vision - not images 'of anything', just noise and lines, but his brain interprets them into worrying, dreamlike perceptions. Perhaps the oddest thing about this visitation, however, is that it is not strange at all - it has none of the tingly quality of Chaotic systems, nor the dull, sapping undertones of abominable intelligence. It simply is - a newish, mundane horror reaching out even despite its lack of physical connection into his systems.

And then it stops.

[Lycan 01]

"A flare gun, you say?" the Priest grins. "Thank you, Mechanicus. Let me know if you need anything yourself, since I know owe you a favor. Heh heh..." he chuckles as he surveys his new weapon.

"With cleansing flame, I shall purify the Unclean..." he mutters mostly to himself as he turns to walk away, lost in thought.

[Saldre]

The Tech-priest closes the screen on the cogitator and caresses its smooth surface.

"Patience... my sSSsweet... not enough... privacy... to play with my new toySss" He hisses quietly, as if speaking to it, then gives a quick glance to the cramped hallways around him...

"Once we get to the sSsurface... the real fun beginSsSs..." He snickers, the lights at the center of hood turning off, as he falls completely motionless in his corner, anxiously anticipating their arrival.

[♠Spade♠]

"In a moment, sir." Tapping his way through the new information, he briefly frowned before looking back to the Inquisitor. "Sir? Unless I've managed to scroll past it without noticing, the only data on your daughter is that we are tasked with finding her. There's no description, no age, no picture...There's not even a name or biometrics." Looking Aquairre in the eye, he continued "How exactly were you expecting us to identify her?"

[Talkkno]

Euphrati smiles as he fully kits up in his new gear, blowing a bit into the barrel of the stormchasers, murmuring

"Not the most powerful weapons, I doubt we are going to find plasma flasks or bolter rounds lying around...

"Is anyone packing any anti-armor weapons? He asks the group.

[Balricaso]

Grim emerges from the depths of the armoury, wearing a full suit of guard armor that now bares his badge. Slung over one shoulder is a quality autogun; on the other is a backpack full of equipment. A towering shield is strapped to his back over his shotgun.
I feel like a ganger in the governors pantry. I guess I can leave this behind.
Grim kneels down and unstraps his shield, trying as carefully as possible not to let it clang against the ground.
Hearing Euphrati, he looks up at the Void Born Scum, trying to hide his disgust.
Gesturing over to where the Kobras was previously sitting, Grim decides to liberate 2 krak grenades.
We do now!

[Ecks Dee]

Looking over to Euphrati, Kobras gestures to the Thunderhawk's carriage. Within lies the Land Speeder Storm, with its underslung assault cannon. Not a dedicated anti-armour weapon, but abundantly capable of chewing through most armour given time.

He then pauses for a second or two, thinking Wolfe's question over. Reaching within his coat, he reluctantly palms a locket over to the guardsman. Within is a lock of hair, and an miniature depicting a smaller, female version of Kobras - right down to the close-cropped hair and aquiline nose.

'Fifteen years old. Haven't got anything more recent, I'm afraid. Like I said, we've been separated. Nonetheless, it should give you an approximation - similarly, the hair could provide genetic identification. '

He's holding back tears.

'Just ... just bring back some of her hair. On her head, ideally, but the locket if not that.'

[Talkkno]

"Where will you be, sir? While we are on the surface. Euphrati says respefectfully, making the sign of the aquilla, as the Rogue Trader tears steam down his face.

[♠Spade♠]

Victus accepted the locket and for now, placed it in the same pocket that held his primer. "Well, then sir, I believe I shall avail myself to some of your equipment." Saluting once more, he about-faced and made his way back into the stacks of military grade hardware.

Spoiler

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Perception of 40
(1d100)[61]

And I fail, of course.

[Ecks Dee]

The Rogue Trader stifles his sorrow. Back to business.

Even in a heavy cruiser like this, there's no way we can last near that star for too long. Essentially, we're going go in as close as we can, drop you off in the Thunderhawk, and get out of there - you can use the Astropathic flare to get our attention to get back, and we'll be stopping by in four weeks anyway.

Wolfe

Wolfe's wanderings in the unfamiliar armoury soon get him lost. While he finds a large amount of the basic military equipment he'd been looking for, some of the details of the advanced gear are a little different.

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Good quality Magistratum Combat Carapace, night cloaking (transparent to infrared sensor, +30 to concealment tests in the dark)
Advanced helmet autosenses (grants heightened senses (sight))
Lucius-Pattern Hellgun (110m/ S/3/-, 1d10+4E, pen 7, clip 40) with omniscope, 3 extra charge packs
Silenced Orthlack Mark IV, 4 magazines
Recoil Gloves
Drop Harness
Backpack
Chrono
Auspex/Scanner
Superior Salvation Auger
Short-Rande Vox-Thief
Calixis Survival Kit
9-70 Entrenching Tool
Compass
Weapon/Gear Storage
Weapon Maintenance Kit
Fractal knife (1d10+1R, pen 7, power field, balanced)

Additionally, shared between the group -

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6x respirator
1x full spectrum observation suite (capable of detecting radio - gamma)
6x medikits (each containing 6 doses of stimm, 6 doses of rainbow, 6 doses of )
6x inertial trackers/mapping systems
Ration packs capable of sustaining 48 weeks of life between all team members
2x 4 person tents.
6x combat knives
6x survival kit (Calixis pattern)
6x environmental body glove
4x power cell crates (each holding 20 universal charge packs, and capable of recharging 2/day if left in direct sunlight) (each charge pack can also double as a
6x high power infantry lamps.
200kg vat of spare promethium (also used for powering the highly efficient Land Speeder Storm)
10 tubes of melta-gel.
Ammunition crate containing 1000x normal bullets, 200x dumdums, 200x manstopper rounds. This is in addition to what you already have.
30x frag grenades.
Air and water purification devices.

[Talkkno]

"Well that's all my questions sir, assuming no one else as anymore questions, I believe we are ready to go." Euphrati comments holstering his pistols.

[♠Spade♠]

Victus managed to locate much of what he wanted, though he was worried about the lack of demolitions. Then he saw something that made him stop and let out a low whistle: he had apparently stumbled upon a trove of high-end equipment. He lightly ran his fingers over a suit of carapace he wasn't familiar with before pulling it off the rack. Pulling the locket out of his pocket, he put it around his neck before spending the next few minutes donning the armor. He frowned; it was slightly crooked but he would need assistance fixing that.

The next unexpected item he nearly missed; he only noticed it because he hardly saw it. In a massively cluttered room, there was a seemingly empty space. Reaching out, he felt a folded piece of fabric and pulling it out revealed it to be a cloak, but for some reason it was difficult to focus on it. Shrugging, he refolded it and stuck it in his pack. He then grabbed a crystalline knife off of a nearby table before pausing at something else.

Picking up a rather rare omni-scope, he attached it to a nearby hellgun before shouldering the weapon. Try as he might, he could night find a full sized backpack charge pack, so he had to settle for smaller units. Clipping the helmet to his belt, he made his way back out towards the Thunderhawk to join the others.

Seeing a young man wearing standard issue Guard flack armor, the veteran called out to him. "Trooper, do me a favor , will you? The armor's sitting crooked. I need you to hit down on both the shoulders at the same time." Not waiting for a response, Victus turned towards the Inquisitor. "I have one last battery of questions, sir. First, What is our ETA for exiting the warp? Second, where precisely do you intend to put us down at? Finally, who is to lead this mission? Or are we to run this by committee?"

[Balricaso]

Raising both fists, Grim strikes down on the guardsman's shoulder pads, putting the armor down squarely.
Arbitrator Grim, at your service.
Turning to Kobras
I believe I've had my fill of your stock, sir. Quality stuff if I do say so myself. I'll find my way to my quarters and settle down for the ride.

[Ecks Dee]

ETA for exiting the warp is two weeks. I was talking with the Navigator just before I came down here - the going's good, it seems.

As for putting down, we're going to drop off the Thunderhawk about an AU away from the star. They're hardened void-capable craft, and so should be able to get in there without suffering a great deal of damage. Between the servitor crew of the ship, and its rather advanced Machine Spirit, you shouldn't need to worry about piloting it. Just point and go. I'd recommend, though, that you put down at Paragon - that's where most of the development is.

Drying his eyes, Kobras smiles somewhat disturbingly.

And leadership? Well, at the risk of being a bit too nice and amicable, I'd recommend running this by committee. Going into the unknown like that - it will be good to be flexible, and for each team member to have authority. Finally, there is a definite chance that not all of you will make it back. Redundant centres of leadership should mitigate that possibility - I hope you understand.

_/ _/ _/ _/

Two weeks pass. It's an uneventful warp journey - the Invincible is a well-run military vessel, and its prodigious Gellar field generators make the trip a smooth one. You have time to pore over maps of the planet, check weapons and equipment, and train in advance of the coming assignment. When you finally break Warp in the outskirts of the Ophiuchi system, you can feel that it's time. A palpable sense of urgency and nervousness comes over the ship - maybe it's tension and fear over what's to come in the mission, maybe it's just the radiation of the star seeping through the ship, but, whatever it is, you can feel it in your bones.

You are led to the Armoury, now cleared of all debris save the Thunderhawk, which has been primed to make its run through the enormous steel doors.

Aquairre shares a brief word, encouragement, or handshake with each of you, then the doors are winched up, and you take your place in the acceleration couches - seated behind the servitor, barely visible under its bionics, which promptly begins the countdown.

5.

Kobras hurries back, his greatcoat flapping in the gathering breeze from the warming engines of your transport.

4.

The doors to the Armoury slam closed, sealing themselves agains the pressure.

3.

The great doors swing open, baring your ship to space.

2.

The engines fire, working up to full power before the ship is released.

1.

An audible 'thunk', as the clasp holding the Thunderhawk releases.

Ave Imperator. We fly.

And then you all die. At least, it feels like it - the terrifyingly powerful engines of the Thunderhawk are finally free to propel you into the void, and the two second jump from being stationary to moving at supersonic speeds grinds you back into the seat. Grim feels his eyes begin to deform; Archilius watches as his mechadendrites, unable to support their own weight against the crushing acceleration, are pinned against the wall behind him. This ship was designed for use by power-armoured superhumans, and it shows.

Eventually, though, the feeling of imminent death eases, and the roar of the engines shuts off. You are no longer accelerating, and have settled into the cruising speed that will take you into orbit around R.S. Ophiuchi A/B. Deceleration should be fun. After a pre-programmedly respectful pause, the servitor speaks again.

Where should we make landfall?

[Lycan 01]

"Gurk," the Priest gasps, trying to get air back into his lung. "I'd say Paragon," he finally rasps. "Its our only real lead..."

[♠Spade♠]

"Sounds good to me." Victus grinned at the others as he stretched against his restraints. "How'd you like that? It never gets old, but there's nothing quite like the rush you get your first time." Extending his hand to each of them in turn, he says "I don't think I've formally introduced myself, yet. I'm Victus Wolfe, formerly of..." as he trails off, his face becomes strangely blank, like a mannequin's, and his left eye twitches violently. After a few seconds it stops twitching and his face resumes it's jocular expression as he continues. "What was I saying? Doesn't really matter, I s'pose. I'm Victus Wolfe. You can call me Vic. I was with the Guard until..." he shrugs, "Until I was inducted, I guess." He seems totally unaware that he was partially repeating himself.

[Lycan 01]

"Nice to meet you, Brother Wolfe. My name..." the Priest pauses, a smile on his face, "Is not important. Call me Priest, Cleric, Father, or Scruffy. It doesn't really matter - I'll know who you're talking to... heh heh..." he chuckles in a dark yet jovial manner.

[Saldre]

The Tech-priest is unresponsive. Leaning back in his seat, it is as if he had "shut down". His head lowered, concealing it in the folds of his robes.

Suddenly, he seems to twitch. You spot, sticking out from underneath a piece of cloth, the needle tip of an injector move: tapping the seat.

"We musSsst visSsit the Observatory.... It muSst be quite a view..." He hisses as he raises his head to look out the window, then turns his cowl to face Victus.

"YesSss... This will be... a most enlightening... experiencCcce..." He says, the yellow lights in his cowl eerily staring at the guardsman...

[Balricaso]

Grim lurches against his harness, a bit of green intruding upon his face. He begins reciting the Emperors Prayer as the craft bucks and bobs; occasionally glancing around to assure himself that the craft is still intact. As the flight begins to level out, he regains some composure.

Arbitrator Grim, he gestures towards the badge on his armor which reads "Grim", And I'd fancy setting down near civilization; The inquisitor mentioned Paragon. If there is any one place where we'll find a lead, it'll be a place that houses, or previously housed, a decent population.

[Talkkno]

The Cold Guild Courier merely nodded at the suggestion, moving himself as far away from the Cleric as possible.

[Saldre]

"You... wisSsh to find a lead? You won't find it there... no no..." The tech-priest hisses from the depths of his robes...

"You'll find their mangled bodies at the Ssspace-port... Sssurely Ssomeone must have tried to eSsscape..." He snickers as he turns to look out the window again.

[Lycan 01]

"If we find their bodies, we can determine what killed them. Its the most direct way to figure out what we're dealing with..." the Priest muses. He then arches a bushy eyebrow at the man scooting away from him. "What's wrong, boy? I don't bite. Heh heh..." he chuckles grimly.

[Balricaso]

Grim snorts, unphased by the Tech-priest A presumptuous claim. We have no reason to suspect we'll find anything when we make landfall. The most developed area of the planet seems the most logical choice.
Grim turns and notes the agreement of the mutant, cleric, and guardsman.
I'd say we're decided, techie. Grim rises from his seat, after a little difficulty.
Servitor, we're setting down at paragon.

Sitting back down, he begins tending to his weapons, and mumbles Gruggin techies...

[Talkkno]

I'm going to settle this now Priest. No reason to have any complications later in the mission. The cold guild courier says outloud as the removes his dark glasses, revealing the pupiless lavender eyes.

[Lycan 01]

The Cleric's right eye twitches. He manages to keep his face blank and devoid of expression, though, as he takes in what he sees. He then inhales deeply, and sighs. "I... assume... you have been... certified and ordained?" he calmly asks, his voice obviously strained. Surely, his superiors already knew of this mutation, and he'd be blessed for his iniquity. But if his mutation was a carefully guarded secret, then such heresy needed retribution...

[Talkkno]

"Of course, I keep these glasses so I don't needlessly spook the locals, let's me see in the dark real well, good thing too in those dammed darkholds He replies calmly as he puts them back on.