Sin of Pride - Black Crusade

[DrK]

With a grunting and tearing the servitor picks up the crippled mutant and begins to slink back to their underdeck lair. The rest of the party of heretics move ever sternwards towards the engine rooms and the massive towering genatorium stacks that provide the power to the colossal engines, lights and life support functions.

The route is by neccisisty cramped and filthy as you keep to the maintenance shafts and tunnels before finally reaching the edge of the secondary plasma genatorium. As you are about to enter however you can see a trio of massive shapes at the other side of the generator. The area packed with near silent red cloaked Magos or lobotimised near naked servitors hauling heavy objects and connecting massive capacitors. Your eyes all uniformly narrow as you recognise the unistkable Black Armour of a trio of Deathwatch Astartes!!

[Caimheul]

Gregor's oculor implants whir in a mixture of shock and excitement at the sight of the genetically enhanced warriors, a portion of his mind plan experiments that would only be possible with a more resilient space marine subject, while the rest attempts to calculate their new odds of success. <I believe our odds of success are decreasing> he states flatly.

[Tome]

"Man Greg" Sid moans, "you are, like, all sorts of dead on with that. Which is what we'll be being if we don't, like, find another way around". This was totally not part of the plan. In fact, this has as little to do with 'The Plan' as the average corpse-priest has to do with fun.

The wyrd does the only reasonable thing, and starts moving away from the superhuman killing machine. Not that he isn't sure he could take one of them, he totally could too, it's just he's not quite sure if he could do it without turning his head inside out. "Ladies and cowards first, right? Let's be finding another way around, one that doesn't go straight through deadsville, population: us.".

[Caimheul]

<By all means, after you.> Gregor responds to the psyker without missing a beat. One unfamiliar with Adeptus Mechanicus might almost take his comment as an attempt at humour, rather than an observation.

[Starbin]

Salome felt the thrill of fear flowing through her veins, chilling her to the bone. Where the others immediately called for the smart and discretionary move, she found herself sliding closer and closer, her heart pounding harder and harder as she moved. Oh, certainly these genetic freaks would kill her without a second thought, and even less effort. However, if she were captured, think of the delicious tortures they would perform upon her, ripping her secrets from her very bosum with their inhuman methods!

Of course, that would mean she would miss so many other opportunities aboard the vessel ... corrupting young imperial troopers ... exploring how depraved Razor could be ... another draught of craich ...

Biting through the inside of her lip, Salome shuddered in the pleasure at the pain, and shook her head. Turning to the others, she smiled, blood staining her teeth in the dim lighting of the underdecks. "Very well, loves, let us continue on around. Perhaps we shall see these brutes later, when we have found the secrets Theocles tries so desparately to hide ... and then we shall show them the delights of the true Powers in the universe ..."

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I suppose we should continue on and find this E887 ... where EVER could he be?

[Caimheul]

<Given our own strong desire to vacate the vicinity, its possible that the presence of certain individuals has resulted others with similar proclivities reacting in a similar fashion.> the heretek observes.

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I think this is a fair assessment even without stuff from DW... If not let me know!

[Tome]

Sid nods. Gregster is making all sorts of sense there. "Right, so why don't we be all circling and looping around. Blackberry jam over there might be faster than us, but I ain't got a doubt in my my mind we'd be up for sneaking around and around to grab what he be chasing, if what he be chasing be our silver pieces".

[Caimheul]

Gregor oddly found himself agreeing with the unhinged psyker. <Such an action provides us with a high probability of success without exposing ourselves to undue risk by my calculations. +/- 5% given mathematical assumptions required with the data I presently posses and the gaps therein.>

[DrK]

From your vantage point skulking near an access grille you can see action erupting as a red cloakd magos turns and begins to run ponderously across the genatorium floor towards an access port. Immediatly the heavily armoured marines pound forward - one flying skwards on a jump jet the other pushing forward fast.

Even as they close on the heretek Gregor can hear the surge of binary chatter and almost see the corrupted machine code activating as the servitors turn nasty - turning towards the marines aggressively....

You are glad you are not in there!

[Tome]

"Let's one-two our feet, eh man? Gotta grab the him before he runs" Sid notes, taking off at a run. Hopefully he can get around to cut the runaway heretek off. Or one of the others will point him in the right direction - knowing left from right ain't exactly among Sid's areas of expertise.

[Starbin]

Salome watched the violence ensue, feeling the rush of adrenaline that accompanied such emotion-ladden events. A part of her wanted to use the fog and friction to enact some chaos on the marines ... but even within the swirling melee, it was obvious that it would only be a matter of time until the Space Marines stood victorious.

Besides, the target of their search was getting away. Sid, in his addled way, had the right of it - best to catch the renegade before he disappeared completely.

"Fly, my pretties ... we must intercept him before he rabbits and disappears."

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Not sure if a skill check is needed, but let us know ...

[Caimheul]

<We should present ourselves as a means of eluding pursuit. Such a presentation is likely to facilitate in absconding quickly.> Gregor points out calmly while hurrying along with the others. There are benefits to having one's respiratory system separate from one's means of vocal communication.

[Starbin]

Salome shrugged sexily as they ran, although her movements were probably lost on her companions. "I would expect that our contact is more acquainted with this section than we are, but I am sure I could make something up."

Glancing at Gregor, then she pouted. "Of course, if he as 'detached' as you are, he may be more attracted to your scrap code than my charms ..."

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Figure we can at least say "Razor sent us!" and see where that leads. Hopefully that doesn't translate to "Jack Sparrow sent me to settle his debt."

[Caimheul]

<I concur, his knowledge may be more expansive than ours, however he may be lacking for a convenient location to hide from the now inevitable search. Presenting ourselves as allies remains our most expedient course of action according to my calculations.> Gregor intones in reply.

[DrK]

All of the heretics can see the exit where E778 is heading. The vile dark magos using his fell powers to activate powers of levitation as the corrupted servitors pile upon the hulking black armoured figures and a torrents of nails sends sparks off a second.

Running down the access corridor you see a small grille some 12m ahead that you think may interesect with the passageway the pursued magos is heading too. It appears to be a race between you and the massive Astartes of the Ordo Xenos...

[Starbin]

With a burst of speed, Salome sprinted across the corridor, reaching the access grill. She looked at the area, trying to determine the best way to open it up without permanently disabling it ...

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Awareness? TN 48: (1d100)[9]

[DrK]

Salome's deft fingers rapidly and easily partially pried open the grille allowing her to quite peer around and view the metallic mask of the fleeing heretek as he ran towards her. Even as the hail of fire from one of the Astartes blew apart half a dozen of the servitors...

[Starbin]

Salome waved to the fleeing heretik, not wasting time with flowery words or suggestive gestures. Whispering below to Gregor, she called, "Can you call him with a burst of your quaint little scrap code?"

[Caimheul]

<If by scrap code you mean the highly efficient and dulcet tones of the techna lingua, then yes.> Gregor intones. There is an audible click followed by a series of screeches, beep, and whistles. #Magos E778, we have come to aid your escape! This way!#

[DrK]

The bulkead closes with a dull thud as the servitors are blown apart by the hail of heavy bolter fire. The heretek looks at Gregor - < Designation required. Motive requested. Egress route accepted as most expediete exit route >

Even as those words are burst in binary he moves to the doorway and peels it open. His hilking frame about to crawl in.

[Caimheul]

{Designation: Gregor. Motivation: Information gathering. } Gregor responds, continuing their highly efficient binary conversation.

[DrK]

The heretek looks at the small portalway and nods as he crawls in.<Probability of success is higher through small door. Large passageway is too open and the astartes are too fast>

He turns around and the mechandrite pops out a small cutting torch beginning to seal the small hatch. < Why the assistance?>

[Caimheul]

{"Following the recent purging of various groups on the ship, including a group of enlightened tech-priests, we have been seeking allies and information. My comrades are unfortunately simple meat sacks and are uneducated in the dulcet tones of the true language. I'm sure they would appreciate us continuing this discussion in their inefficient tongue.} Gregor contributes, attempting to have the fleeing heretek change languages, allowing one of the members of the group better versed in deceit and manipulation take charge of the conversation.

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I don't THINK I said anything that is untrue but just in case: (1d100)[68] TN 41

[Tome]

All the beeps and boops flying back and forth remind Sid of this one little song he heard once. Man, he can't even remember the words but now he just knows it's going to be all stuck in his head for the rest of the day.

Still, maybe Greggy-Greg might want some hands to be helping out. Best to let him know he's like, got his back. And not just in the standing behind him sense. Just lemme know if you want me to be all a-mind jacking this clanker, eh Greg? Just be, you know, knowing that I can't be doing it for long and all.

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Thought Sending! Same as always, I only fail on a fumble.
(1d100)[32]

[Starbin]

Salome waited, watching E778 work silently as Gregor stared at the heretek. While only moments had passed, it was obvious the two were communicating via that thrice-damned machine language. Sighing, the apostate checked her weapons, then checked the corridors for any signs of moment.

"Come, Gregor, bring your new playmate along. We should find a safer place to discuss, least the Emperor's mutated dogs hear us through the very walls ..."

[Caimheul]

<Agreed. Falk and I shall bring up the rear, alert for any signs of pursuit.> Gregor offers.

[Starbin]

Salome rolled her eyes, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "But dear Gregor, you were the one with the maps!" Using whatever means they had, Salome will lead the others to whatever appears to be a 'safe' area to discuss.

Once there, she turns to the others. "So, my fine mechanical friend. A mutual acquaintance suggested we talk. What evil little plots have you been embroiled in, my dear?" She flashed her winning smile, even if it was lost on the more robotic than human heretek.

[DrK]

A few minutes of flight leaves the heretics in a dingy sewage inlet sampling valve bulkhead. The 6ft by 6ft metal cell like hole with a small circular hole in the floor that accesses the maintenance shafts bracketed by a pair of secondary sewage valves. The slightly open pipes releasig a trickle of dark effluence and a vile stench in the nearby pitch darkness.

The fleeing magos looks about. His mechandrites poised in a suspicious manner. An integrated weapon active in his left bionic hand. A faint chirp of binary fades away before with halting and difficult rasps he switches to a harsh and stumbling low gothic.

"You know I heretek. But not Malgryisan are you." He looks around some more. Red linked metallic bionic cyberoptic eyes watching you all. "What sect are you with. You do not show mechanicus signums." he directs the question to Gregrory. "Have you heard of the rest of my cult? We have heard things. Rumours of Astartes let loose within the vessel?"

[Caimheul]

<No. I am not. I do not belong to any sect as secrecy and solitary has been my ally since those close minded fools drove me from my facility. I practice fleshworks utilizing the superior xenos biology, in addition to dabbling in transgenics. The rumours you heard are true. The corpse god's hounds descended upon your sect's hideout and slayed all found within. It seems they had discovered your presence as well.> Gregor replies, as Falk scans the area.

[Starbin]

Salome leaned against the wall, smiling at E778. "Your options are becoming limited, dear Malgrysian. The web of the thrice-damned Golden Throne, inch ever closer and closer. Perhaps an alliance between us could benefit all adversaries to the False Emperor?"