Dark Heresy: Lost and Gone Forever

[LeSwordfish]

Lost And Gone Forever

Chapter One: High Society

They had each been given a message, with a place and a time to meet. Sibellus Rising spaceport, Hive Sibellus, Scintilla. The main concourse, local noon. They were all there- the assassins, the arbite, the psyker and the noble. The last had also been given a key, attached to a tag with a number neatly printed on it.

"What name is the locker in, sir?"

Tybalt. That had been mentioned in the message, too.

"Very good, sir." she said automatically, reaching for the small vox-horn hanging by her desk. "Please head into the waiting room, your luggage will be brought through immediately."

They were servants of the imperial inquisition, some newly-minted, some veterans. And here, today, was the beginning of their latest assignment.

When it was brought out to them, the luggage turned out to be a heavy steamer trunk, on a squeaking wheeled platform. When they opened it, it was full of neatly folded clothes, with a dataslate resting on top.

Contents of the trunk

Spoiler

Show

Clothes, and personal effects for your cover identities. The personal effects seem realistically worn, and the clothes are all of good quality.

Four additional keys for the trunk, making a total of five.

Tickets to Xanadu, dated from tomorrow. to a month later.

At least one form of ID for each of you with cover identities.

A compact vox-caster

A dataslate.

Upon picking up the dataslate, it clicked and buzzed, and displayed the message "Genoprint identified", before clicking and buzzing a little more and flicking to a list of files.

Greetings acolytes

Spoiler

Show

Subject // Greetings Acolytes

DATE: 722.897/M41

CLASSIFICATION: Magenta.

AUTHOR: Inquisitor Alis Meredith

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: Blessed be those who turn their face to His light.

Greetings, Acolytes. I hope this message finds you well. Enclosed are all the necessary materials and details for the undercover identities you will be assuming over the week ahead. Your target is the luxury holiday destination Xanadu, a converted mining outpost in the halo of the Scintilla system.

In the closing months of the past year a routine administratum check of the medical records brought up an interesting anomaly. Since Xanadu opened, the rates of visitors being invalided back on Scintilla is nearly ten times the expected rate, with just over one in twenty-five guests developing an illness serious enough to require emergency evacuation. The station has an extensive medical bay, so this was flagged as suspicious.

This information was passed to me, and I decided to act on it. Three months ago I deployed Cell Fourteen to Xanadu station. Clem Coriam infiltrated the station's medical bay as a junior doctor, Tomas Cheswick and Emmeline Ellis posed as guests to the station. All three used their given names. Two weeks after their arrival, I received the pre-arranged abort message from Coriam. Standard procedure at that point should have been to return on the next shuttle. This did not happen. No communication has been received from any members of the cell since then. I fear we must assume the worst.

Your mission is twofold. Firstly, you are searching for any clues as to the fate of Cell Fourteen. Find what happened to them, and prosecute those responsible. Secondly, continue their mission to find the source and reason for the illness. I have provided you with details of cover identities to use.

Communication with the station is limited. A public vox is available on the station, and the caster enclosed should have sufficient power to send a signal back to me at the Tricorn. This signal will have a significant speed-of-light delay and, as usual, security cannot be guaranteed. As such, use caution and discretion.

The station prides itself on its dedication to guest’s privacy, and as such does not search either guests or their luggage. Overt displays of weaponry will be noted however, and unless you feel you can successfully explain away your armament, storing it in this luggage until needed.

The shuttle to Xanadu leaves from berth ten in one local day. Tickets and boarding passes are included.

On a personal note, Cell Fourteen were some of my greatest friends. Clementine in particular was closest confidante, and preparing for Interrogator status. Their deaths were a tragedy, and I have great hopes that you will be able to enact vengeance.

Inquisitor Alis Meredith

Cell Fourteen

Spoiler

Show

Clem Coriam

Spoiler

Show

Age (Sidereal): seventy-four

Age (Juvenat-locked): Thirty-six

Status: Missing in action

World of Origin: Scintilla

Skills: Seduction/Persuasion, Eidetic Memory, Infiltration/Impersonation/Deception, Technological (Cogitator)

Notes: Extremely skilled and valuable operative. Over three dozen successful missions.

Tomas Cheswick

Spoiler

Show

Age (Sidereal): Forty

Age (Juvenat-Locked): Forty

Status: Missing, presumed dead

World of Origin: Cantus

Skills: Marksmanship, Combat, Wilderness Survival, Infiltration/Impersonation/Deception

Notes: Excellent shot. Over a hundred confirmed kills.

Emmeline Ellis

Spoiler

Show

Age (Sidereal): Sixty

Age (Juvenat-locked): Twenty-Four

Status: Missing, presumed dead.

World of Origin: Maccabeus Quintus

Skills: Combat, Infiltration/Impersonation/Deception, Concealment/Shadowing

Notes: Sharp temper. Tomas's influence ameliorating.

Xanadu

Spoiler

Show

Location: Scintilla system, Halo, last updated position 7377-2719 though orbit variable.

Standard Template: Asteroid mining variant Sigma-Three. Modified as described below.

Crew on manifest: Three hundred. Usually contains sixty to one hundred guests.

Description: Series of elongated cylinders supported several hundred meters away from the asteroid by metal stanchions. Cylinders have been extensively converted on the interior, and a glass-domed aviary has been built into one.

History: Mining Station XU-211 was a standard pattern mining station primarily based around drilling for platinum, titanium, and iridium on the unnamed asteroid it was attached to. When the precious metals in the asteroid were entirely mined away, it was purchased by Petyr Osborne, and he began the process of converting it to a luxury destination. He replaced the main ore-processing floors with accommodation and communal rooms, doubled the capacity of the life support system, and brought luxury items in at great expense. Xanadu, as he renamed the station, is now comparable in luxury and capacity to a cruise liner or similar.

Notable Station Personell

Spoiler

Show

Petyr Osborne

Spoiler

Show

This file gives a brief, dull rundown of Osborne, the owner and head of the station. He seems to be a minor scion of a Scintillan noble house, having made a considerable amount of money on stocks and shares, now mostly owning land. The station is his permanent residence, and he is said to enjoy fraternising with the guests. In fact, when the station was originally started only Osborne’s considerable connections were sufficient to fill it with guests.

An administratum note on Osborne’s finances is included. Nothing incongruous has appeared, which, the note concludes, means that he’s hiding something.

Leonid Grice

Spoiler

Show

Grice is the actual leader of the station, Osborne’s second-in-command. Grice was high-up in Xanadu when it was a mining station, and was one of the only crew members to remain with the station after its conversion. Grice has no history before arriving on the station- the dataslate theorises that he was an underhiver or voidsman.

Dr Sel Byron

Spoiler

Show

The station’s chief medical officer. Hired at great expense from the up-hive hospital on Scintilla where she worked. Nothing particular stands out about her history. Included because if anything is suspicious about the illnesses, she would know. Clem Coriam’s investigation was centered around her.

---

And then the same time the next day, they were stood in the entrance to berth ten, the wind from the lower slopes of the city buffeting the unfamiliar, expensive clothes. They were surprisingly well-tailored- Meredith must have measurements for the group somewhere. Like the dozen or so other berths at the spaceport, number ten was a wide metal arena, the top open to the sky, the floor stained black with smoke from a thousand takeoff jets. There was only one ship in the berth, but it was a beauty- slick and pale silver, with its wings swept back like a diving falcon. Cat recognised it as a Phoebus-pattern void-yacht. Fast and manoeuvrable, but fragile and finicky. A rich man's toy. Servitors were loading luggage onto a cargo elevator slung below the ship's slender belly- two paced over to take the steamer trunk from Isidore.

Two men in rich red livery, undone to the waist, were smoking and playing cards at the bottom of the access ramp. As Cat watched, a blonde woman in a rather more neat version of the same decorative get-up strode down the ramp and began berating them; the group could hear it as they got nearer.

"... completely unprofessional. The last few guests will be here any second and the company would be scandalised if it saw you looking like this."

"Lighten up, Donner." The more dishevelled of the two men complained. "It's las-hot in the bridge, and Genadzy keeps farting."

"I do not!"

"Besides, company ain't here to see, are they?"

"I'm here." Donner snapped. "Besides, that's not the point. We need to look our best before the guests because as representatives of the company our appearance..."

Mordicai paused on the edge of the conversation, unsure as to whether or not to interrupt. The decision was made for him, however, when a man pushed past him, and addressed Donna in an accent of immense wealth, gilded with Malfian overtones.

"This is the takeoff for Xanadu, is it? I do so hope your servitors are skilled at handling baggage. I have a quantity of amasec in my luggage, and should it be broken I will be attempting to reclaim its value."

"This is the right place, sir." Donner reported, her voice an instant picture of professionalism. "And our servitors are the best."

"Well, I should hope so." The man gestured at the group a little way behind him- another young Malfian, functionally identical, a pair of massive bodyguards with slung lasrifles, and a woman who looked like a secretary. "Abraxius, party of five."

"Ah, of course." Donna took the proffered ticket and scrutinised it for a second. "All seems to be in order. Please take a seat on board. We're just waiting for a few more groups- we should be able to take off in a few minutes." These comments accompanied a glare at the two pilots, who had returned to their game.

"Who are we waiting on? I do so deplore delay."

"Lady Van Haal, and the Tybalt party- though I think that might be you, sir?" Donner replied, addressing the group for the first time.

The Malfian sniffed, unimpressed, and turned to give the group an appraising look. "Tybalt? I've never heard the name before."

[Betrayer]

The previous day

On getting the data slate:

Mordicai will look down bashfully, before looking around the assembled acolytes, a hint of crimson sneaking onto his face.

"Um... one of you'll have to tell me what this say. I can't... I don't know how to read." He quickly looks down, to hide his embarrassment.


***

'Now'

Mordicai turns to the noble and feigned an expression of suppressed surprise.

"I'm not surprised. The Tybalts are hardly the most prominent family on Malfi. But you're a Malfian yourself, are you not? I'm sure you would have heard of us, maybe is passing? No matter! Mordicai Tybalt, prodigal son of the Tybalts."

He holds out his hand amiably.

[Malachite]

Previous day

Lorr steps forward to take the data-slate.
"I'll read it out. Perhaps I should adopt a cover as your aide? I was a common servant of men before the Emperor chose me to serve him instead - as your aide, you could pass me any documents and tell me to 'make the necessary arrangements' without raising suspicion."


***

Now

Lorr remains a step behind Mordicai's right shoulder, every inch the dutiful servant, but remains silent. When those of higher station speak, those of lower station should hold their tongues.

[Caimheul]

Previous Day

"Should we have enough time, I am certain one of our number could aid you in downloading that particular ability." Isidore intones as he takes possession of the vox caster. "And what do we have here? Have you been treated well little one?" the tech priest purrs before quietly beginning to mummer the appropriate rites.

Spoiler

Show

Evaluate: (1d100)[18] TN 50
Tech use to set it up to turn off at Isidore's whim: (1d100)[78] TN 70

..........
Present

"I should like to take a look at these servitors of yours. I do enjoy examining well crafted technologies. Do you happen to know the origin of their biological parts?" Isidore asks single-mindedly.

[Major Kiaslu]

Previous Day

The blond haired woman in the all too recognizable black leather uniform looked towards Mordicai with surprise bordering on incredulity, her voice biting sharp. "You can't... read? And yet somehow were chosen as an Acolyte. And were invited to this job?"

Scythia could honestly barely believe that. It was the inquisitor's call to make of course, but what kind of low life had Meredith dragged up here? She met the man's gaze briefly before chuckling a little, not entirely kindly. "We have our nobleman, then. You should fit in nicely with Scintillian society." Judgement made, the Arbite turned towards the trunk, starting to examine those items within beside the data-slate, and pocketing her chosen key.

Spoiler

Show

Hmm... Wanted to briefly flesh out Scythia's cover identity in the OOC. Assume Scythia's running to catch up after getting dressed into noble duds. ;)

[Betrayer]

Previous Day
The slight twinge of red in his face flared at the Noblewoman's incredulity. He looked up at her and caught her eye, his own glinting.

"Well, I think the Inquisitor wanted a noble with some social skills." The corner of his mouth twitched up, to match his eyes. Suddenly, his mouth split into an ingratiating smile.

"And yes, I'm sure the Scintillians will appreciate a hiver, even one as illiterate as myself. Still, gimme a kick if I start attacking my grox-steak with a fish knife or something, Cousin Si-Si."

[Aneurin]

Cat

+++Previous Day+++

Cat, clad in her traditional body-glove-and-flak-jacket combo is leaning against the wall maintaining a studied distance between herself and the arbite - far enough to show distaste, but not so far as to show actual fear. Until now, she's been watching the others in a vague silence.

"Not all of us have time to spare for the scholas when there are more important things to do - like find another meal," Cat says quietly, her voice dripping with contempt. "You're here for your reading skills, but us?" she indicates Mordicai and herself with an expansive gesture. "We're here 'cause we're damn good at staying alive and making other people dead,"

Stretching, she saunters over to the trunk brushing past Scythia in the process.

"Still," she adds, reaching down to the bundle of clothes with her name on it. "Nice to see a 'Biter doing something useful for once, nicer still to see a Rich Witch doing anything,"

+++Present Day+++

Even in smart, up-market clothes, Cat still contrives to look like something out of the underhive. It's impossible to say whether it's in her stance, her slit-pupiled amber lenses, her lime-green tufted hair, or the rosethorn tattoos that swirl across half her face.

The air of danger about her, however, is far more definable - the confidant way she wears the finely crafted sabre at her side, and the full-length flak jacket that swings around her ankles that has seen a great deal of life, and outlived most of what it's seen. Even the pilot's badge on the shoulder matches the wear and tear on the rest of the garment.

She runs her eyes over the yacht with a jaundiced look, clicking her tongue in disapproval over what she sees.

"Rich man's toy," she mutters to herself. "Omnissiah above, but I hope those idiots can fly this thing properly,"

Despite her words, she finds herself relaxing slightly - in as much as a hiver ever relaxes under the emptiness of the sky - at the sight of the pilots; unlike everyone else here they're not fussing over appearances. It would, of course, be nice if they were fussing over the death-trap-to-be of a shuttle, but either they don't have anything to prove, or they're quite terminally stupid.

Cat really wishes she hadn't thought of that last part.

[Caimheul]

Previous Day

Isidore looks up briefly from the vox caster, a slightly confused expression evident upon the parts of his face that are visible. "Why would one need to attack a grox steak? Is your protein typically still alive just prior to your consumption? That sounds like it would be mighty inconvenient for those requiring sustenance," he asks innocently.

[Malachite]

"Nice to see a 'Biter doing something useful for once, nicer still to see a Rich Witch doing anything,"

Lorr flinches a little at the last part.
"We're not well compensated, doing our duty is deemed reward enough..!" his voice tails off. "Ah. You meant her."

[LeSwordfish]

The malfian took Mordicai's hand with an air of bad grace, and shook it. "You are correct... sir. I consider myself well-versed on the houses of Malfi. The highest ones, anyway." He left the veiled insult hanging in the air, and turned to indicate the rest of his group. "I am Lucien Abraxius, third cousin to Albraham Abraxus, Lord of Cillenhive, my brother is Larisel Abraxius, and he is accompanied by our staff."

The secretary gave a slightly nervous smile. The two bodyguards didn't react, staring straight ahead. Isidore gave them a quick appraising look- they were far too identical to be entirely human. Some genetic modification there. Probably stimulants too.

"We, ah, we prefer our guests to stay away from operating servitors." Donner explained. "For their own safety. As for the biological parts, I don't know offhand, but I'm sure I could find out for you, sir."

[Caimheul]

"And you don't have any that are currently deactivated? That is a shame. I would greatly appreciate that information however, as well as the forge world of origin if known." Isidore says cheerily, before turning his attention to the bodyguards peering at the interestedly.
"Genetically modified bodyguards? I am impressed sir! Although I believe you could have received a greater benefit from bionic enhancements. The limitations of gene-manipulation can prove to be restrictive." Isidore continues to exude an air of naivete and wonder, as if he has only recently left his forge world.

[Major Kiaslu]

Previous Day

Cat's words get a raised eyebrow out of the 'Biter', and a cold gaze. "The Arbites do more than you'd ever think, ganger, for your protection as much as anyone else's." Her piece said though, Scythia chuckled, for the first time grinning sincerely at the other woman. "The second one, I'll give you though. Emperor's Name, I don't know if I'll have the patience for dealing with the giggling do-nothings. And if you two are here, you can't be too bad, or else the Inquisitor wouldn't have given you the time of day."

Withdrawing her ID from the trunk, and glancing at it briefly, Scythia shook her head in Mal's direction whilst frowning. "I'm your cousin? Please say I'm not your cousin." The Arbite sighed, but managed a faint grin to her fellow Acolyte. "By blood, or just an unknown peer? Cousin can be a sign of respect under some customs."

Present Day
At last, the final member of the assembly arrived, bustling quicky through the crowd. She couldn't look more different from yesterday. Her short hair had now been dyed a light shade of blue. She skin seemed paler, and her lips were glossed white. Her crisp leather uniform had been replaced by a black velvet corset, with silver boning, accompanied by a red jacket and a navy blue silk skirt. It seemed 'Cousin Si-Si' knew how to dress for the occasion.

Scythia glanced around the group, blushing slightly at the delay, and that the band of acolytes now seeing her 'dressed up'. She nodded to Mordicai. "What did I miss?"

[Malachite]

While the others stand out in dress and appearance, Lorr is thoroughly unremarkable - almost notably so, in such company. He stands slightly shorter than average, with short black hair and an olive-skinned complexion. His slender frame is clothed in a simple, well-tailored jacket and trousers of ash grey, silver threads inlaid to form a discrete yet tasteful pattern across the jacket's left breast and sleeve. He wears thin cotton gloves and soft-soled, knee-length leather boots of the same shade. An ornate, basket-hilted duelling sword and dagger hang on his left hip, while a rather less sophisticated autopistol graces his right.

Hanging back behind Mordicai, he nevertheless notes the Malfian noble's name as the man delivers thinly-veiled insults.

Like a fencer needling an unresisting opponent he believes to be inferior, he reflects. Confident that no riposte will come, yet longing for the justification to attack in earnest.

He has seen bullies such as this many times before. Their comeuppance frequently came in the form of various human fluids secreted within their food by aggrieved servants.

Lucien and Larisel Abraxius of Malfi, third cousins to Lord Albraham Abraxius of Cillenhive. Likely too belligerent to become a useful source, but possibly a good scapegoat. Substantial firepower on show.

[Aneurin]

Cat

+++Previous Day+++

Her eyes flash with white-hot fury, before cooling just ask quickly.

"Yeah, whatever," Cat shrugs carelessly - as much an attempt to change the subject as it is acceptance of Scythia's words. She continues to flip through the packages tagged for her, grunting in pleasure as she finds a worn pilot's badge on one of the jackets.

+++Present Day+++

Cat swaggers forward just as Scythia arrives, her bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, taking great care not to look up at the naked sky. Taking a circuitous route to avoid Donner and the Malfians, she approaches the two pilots and their game.

"Hey there," she says with a grin that reveals her pointed incisiors - surgically sharpened for an unsettling effect. "Got any good words about your shiny heap of parts over there?" she jerks a thumb at the void-yacht, twisting her left shoulder enough to show off the patch.

[LeSwordfish]

Lucien turned to look at Isidore. His nose rose a few degrees into the air. "Mmm. Genetic manipulation is a fine Malfian tradition. I assure you, they are of the highest quality. Some day, you must allow me to demonstrate."

The two pilots scrutinised Cat as they gathered up their things. "She's pretty peachy," the one called Genadzy allowed, "Manifolds need flushing more often than they should."

"Nothing but the best for Xanadu." the other snorted. His eyes flickered from Cat's figure, to the flyer's patch, to the sharpened teeth. He didn't seem to know what to think. "You a pilot, ma'am?"

[Betrayer]

Mordicai doesn't miss the intended offence, but lets it pass. He responds instead with self deprecation, with a twist of flattery.

"I'm afraid someone as senior as yourself would have little reason to deal with the Tybalts, then. Now, where are my manners, please meet my cousin Scythia Galia. Scythia, this is Lucien Abraxius. He's closely related to the Lord of Cillenhive, Malfi."

[Aneurin]

Cat

Her grin broadens at their reactions.

"Sure am. I'm not rated for the void - there's not a whole lot of that in a Hive, y'know - but ground or sky and I'm you're girl. Name's Caterina, but you can call me Cat," she tilts her head to one side as she watches them pack up their game. "What, leaving so soon? And I haven't even asked to be dealt in yet," she adds with a wink.

[Major Kiaslu]

Lady Galia doesn't miss a beat, nodding politely to the Malfian lord, and offering a hand which bore a single golden ring. "A pleasure." the unknown lady offered with a smile, glancing between the Malfian party, before turning her attention back to Lucien "Have you visited Xanadu before? Cai talked me into this, and I've no idea what to expect from the place."

[Caimheul]

"But of course sir! I can't imagine you would settle for anything of the best." Isidore says, seemingly oblivious of the implied threat, while making a mental note. If I wasn't on Inquisition business, your trip would be plagued with many small failures. Isidore thinks to himself as he mentally recounts all the fun things to do to others on a starship. A melodic series of beeps softly escapes his respirator as he recalls the look on the face of the last lordling he dealt with following the seemingly arbitrary malfunction of a biological waste disposal unit.

Realizing that as a tech-priest he was unlikely to be welcomed into any of the conversations currently ongoing, he contents himself with observing their surroundings and assessing their vessel.

Spoiler

Show

Awareness: (1d100)[14] TN 15 (I think this is my first character without that OR Dodge trained....)

[LeSwordfish]

Lucien shook Scythia's hand with a similar distasteful air. "Never visited." Lucien replied. "I hear great things about it, though."

Before the two pilots could answer Cat, Donner had crossed to them. A sharp, whispered conversation ensued, which Cat heard every word of.

"Are we ready to go, yet?"

"Throne! Yes, Donner, we're ready."

"Fine. Fine. Just waiting on Lady Van Haal, then. Go and do the final checks."

"We did them a damn hour ago."

"Just go and..." Donna broke off, staring across the room. "Go and get ready, the Lady's here."

A young woman was striding across the berth towards them. She was small and round-faced, but somehow sharply striking, with the air of an actress. She was alone, unlike the others, and carrying her own bag. She was dressed in the fashions common to a scintillan up-hiver, but with unusual short hair. Scythia couldn't help noticing Larisel Abraxius give the woman an approving look.

"Lady Van Haal, I presume?" Donner asked, stepping to meet her. "Can I take your bag?"

"I'll keep my bag, thank you." Van Haal replied, and bestowed upon Donner a smile that would have made weak men swoon.

Awareness test

Spoiler

Show

Donner is surprised to see Van Haal. You can't tell why- she's concealing it well, but something about Van Haal has unsettled her.

[Major Kiaslu]

Sycthia steeped away from the Malfian party to greet the newly arrived Ladyship with a sympathetic grin and a nod. "It's good to have your own things on hand, isn't it? Just in case you need them." She gestured smoothly to a small leather bag of hers that rested with the rest of those belonging to her party.

The blue haired woman offered her Ladyship a hand, careful to reach for her free one. "Scythia Galia. That's my cousin, Mordicai Tybalt. And with us are the Abraxius party" She gestured to the latter as a group before returning her attention to Van Haal. "All off to the old mine together, it seems. And I think with you here, we're ready to depart, thank the Emperor. This place is a little too loud for my taste, I'm afraid."

Spoiler

Show

Well, time to start rolling things... Emperor preserve us

(1d100)[25] Charm, on Lady Van Haal [TN 41] (Calling this a formal situation is a stretch, but first introductions.... borderline? ;) )

(1d100)[79] Common Lore, Imperium TN 42 for info on the Van Haals
(1d100)[54] Common Lore, Imperium TN 42 for info on the Abraxius

(1d100)[44] Forbidden Lore: Cults TN 52 for any possible connections between these families and known cults

[Aneurin]

Cat

Having watched the exchange with great interest, Cat sidles up to Grenadzy as soon as Donner's out of immediate earshot and nudges him.

"Your boss is in a mood, isn't she? Who's the Topper?" she asks, with a conspiratorial nod towards Van Haal.

[Caimheul]

Isidore grows visibly listless and bored with the conversations around him. Still beeping musically to himself, he pulls out his Auspex from within his oil dotted rust covered robes and fiddles with some of the dials. "And how are you my pet? Feeling any better today?" he coos to the device.

[LeSwordfish]

Scythia

Spoiler

Show

Donner seemed more harried than she is showing, but otherwise nothing. Lady Van Haal seemed merely bored. A quick mental check found that none of the names were associated with any cult activity-not that she could remember, anyway.

OOC: Feel free to read the "Successful scrutiny test: Abraxius" spoiler.

Isidore

Spoiler

Show

Under the guise of merely playing with the device, Isidore scanned the area. Nothing unusual on Donner, or the pilots- one of them had a nice-quality MIU, Isidore noted. Lady Van Haal seemed normal, though Isidore noted the heavy pistol concealed in her bag. As for the Abraxius party...

OOC: Feel free to read the "Successful scrutiny test: Abraxius" spoiler.

[Betrayer]

Mordicai stood silently next to Lucien, waiting for him to make either a comment on the new arrival or his excuses.

[LeSwordfish]

Genadzy quickly scrutinised Van Haal, as she crossed to the Abraxius group. "Dunno" he eventually decided, and jogged up the ramp.

Lady Van Haal gave Scythia a second radiant smile and shook her hand. "Isadora Van Haal. Have you visited the station before?"

Before Scythia could answer, Donner had cleared her throat meaningfully. "Okay, if I could have everyone's attention for a moment. We'll be leaving as soon as possible, so if you'd like to make your way on board the ship, refreshments will be served on board. One last thing to note before leaving the planet, Scintillan customs checks every ship landing on the planet, so if you have any illegal or proscribed items, filling in paperwork for them now will save us a lot of time on the return journey."

Larisel sniffed meaningfully. Donner tried not to look put out.

"Sorry, but this is a thing the Scintillan customs do. They've done it for five years now, and every ship that lands on the planet has to go through with it, except for emergency vessels and such."

She clapped her hands, attempting to put an end to it. "Nobody? Alright, welcome on board."

She lead the group up the ramp and through a heavy vac-sealed door into a cabin area of quite stunning luxury. The carpet was thick and red, the seats- enough for thirty or so people- were plush and luxurious. There was another group in there, a family- two parents, two children, a bodyguard smoking a cigar, and a governess with her hair in a bun. Ashtrays and small tables were around the cabin and, unusually for a void-vessel, it had windows, small portholes ranged along the sides with thick glass in them.

"Please make yourself comfortable." Donner said. "The trip should take eight hours or so. Refreshments will be served as soon as we've broken orbit."

OOC

Spoiler

Show

Note that "illegal/proscribed items" doesn't apply to the relatively mundane things you all carry.

Do you want to talk very much on the journey, or shall I skip to the arrival?

[Major Kiaslu]

Scythia hefted her slightly heavy personal bag up the rap with passable grace, at the side of the other 'Tybalts'. The comfortable nature of the cabin was a truly welcome sight, the Arbite had spent too many nights in her Scintillian apartment to appreciate luxury like this. Well deserved. She glanced towards the already present family, a touch curious: how did they get aboard before us?

She spent a few seconds taking them in, a little inquisitive, before dismissing the matter and taking a seat at Isadora's table. smiling across at her noble cousin. The Scintillian had made a good first impression, and Scythia couldn't help but feel a little more relaxed sitting next to her. Here was a peer, a friend. "To answer your question from earlier, no, I haven't visited this station before. I've traveled about the sector a bit, but not as much as I'd have liked. This will be my first time on Xanadu."

All true. Tell the truth where you could, it made the lies more convincing, and no sense in lying to an honest person unless you have to. Scythia met Van Haal's gaze, though she didn't break that friendly grin. "What about you? Looking for a holiday that takes slightly less time than a warp-trip?"

Spoiler

Show

I'd like to at least get an answer as to why Isodore here's heading out solo, even if I suspect she won't be up front about the truth. ;) That's the main thing I'm after outta this trip, though I suspect someone talking to the family might be a good idea

I'd like to request a scrutiny roll on them, actually. Just in case.

[Malachite]

Lorr takes in the lavish fittings of the shuttle with a suppressed sigh of appreciation. Having grown up used to surroundings like this - whether or not they were for his benefit or not - the horrific treatment aboard the Black Ship and spartan quarters of the Scholastica Psykana were even more jarring than to most.

Soft furnishings and fancy clothes hide conflicts as real as any fought by the Guard, though, so Lorr keeps on his guard.


Rolls

Spoiler

Show

Looking over the family, crew shuttle interior. Separate rolls made, but if only one is needed then only results of the first apply.
Awareness38: (1d100)[29]
Awareness38: (1d100)[51]
Awareness38: (1d100)[83]

[Betrayer]

"Well, sir, it's a pleasure to have met you." Mordicai says to Abraxius as they part ways in the shuttle. He sits in a chair near to his Scythia and Van Haal, quite contentedly entertaining himself with the goings on of the shuttle, he stares into space, as though in a day dream, while he tries to eavesdrop on the conversations around him, both for the family that had arrived already and the Abraxius party.

Spoiler

Show

Hearing awareness checks, if necessary, first applies, or in order as shown.
(the family) AwarenessVS62:(1d100)[73]
(Abrixius party) AwarenessVS62:(1d100)[65]

[LeSwordfish]

"Something like that." Isadora replied. "I was meant to travel with my father, but he was detained at the last minute. Xanadu has quite the waiting list, so I decided not to waste my slot. I'm looking forward to it: I've never been off-planet before."

The Abraxius party took seats a few places behind the acolytes, the two nobles flanked by their guards, the secretary behind them with a book. Donner returned into the cabin and coughed for attention, as the ship began to hum with engine noise. She spoke into a small vox-horn, and the group's interest trailed off as she began what was obviously a prepared spiel.

"The cabin is internally damped, so you don't need to strap in, but you will feel a slight strange feeling. Check in the arm of your seat: you'll find a travel pack with safety instructions and anti-nausea pills..."

---

It was nine hours later.

Scythia had been raised to think of asteroid belts as great clusters of rocks, constantly clashing and spinning in space. The halo, however, was almost entirely empty, the distances between chunks of debris large enough to comfortably drive a cruiser through. The occasional spatial pebble bounced gently off the yacht's shielding. Out here the sunlight was so dim as to be almost unseen- most of the asteroids were visible only as silhouettes against the swirl of stars. Through the porthole, she watched them drift past, further away than the mind could comprehend.

"To your left," Donner announced, "You'll be able to see the remains of the battleship Shield of Terra. Destroyed by heretical forces in the battle for Scintilla, centuries before, even in death it stands a bold sentinel over the planet." She sounded distinctly bored; Mordicai noted, and presumed she said the same thing every time she had to take the journey. The two children crossed the deck quickly and jostled for space at the porthole, and the two Malfians made mildly appreciative noises. Isadora leaned over for a look, and made a small gasp.

With Donner pointing out minor points of interest along their journey, the yacht glided on. When the note of the engines changed slightly, Donner shifted in her seat and reached for the vox-horn.

"We will be arriving at Xanadu in just a few minutes; we're currently matching our cruising speed with the station's. Please prepare for disembarkation."

The family gathered children and luggage together, the two Malfians brothers had a quick conversation with their bodyguard, and the other passengers all readied themselves for landing. Isidore caught a glimpse of the station through the porthole. As the briefing had mentioned, it was formed of a cluster of metal cylinders, attached to the asteroid by several long tangles of gantries, support structures, and heavy pipes. It looked like a blood-fly feeding, with proboscis jammed into a rocky body. The yacht drifted in closer and closer, heading for a ring of docking bays around the central cylinder.

When they landed, dropping to the metal deck with a heavy thump, they had to wait still longer as the massive docking bay was pumped full of air.

"Exciting, isn't it?" The governess asked the children. One of the Malfians overheard and gave a derisive snort.

Finally, the door opened, and Donner lead the group across the floor of the bay. It was almost eerily empty, with Servitors were bustling around, carrying the luggage. None of the servants looked particularly put out to have their jobs taken thus. Donner attracted attention back to herself with a expert finger-click.

"Thank you, all eyes on me. I just need to run through some basic safety instructions, and I'll lead you to your accommodation, then you'll be free to continue on your own."

Donner lead the group across the landing pad and into a large elevator, nearly the size of the transport again. While the landing bay had looked like a trillion others across the segmentum, with dull metal and scuffed floors, the elevator was rich and sumptuous, with a thick carpeted floor and polished wood panelling. One wall was a mirror. Cat regarded herself, and felt rather underdressed. As the escalator dropped, Donner ran through a wealth of information and safety tips- stay in the guest zones, don't approach working servitors. Nothing that wouldn't be obvious to anyone from anywhere but the hive peaks. Very few of the guests seemed to be listening. The children were fidgeting, and their governess was trying to quiet them. The young woman looked as bored as ever.

"Once you get out of this lift and into the arboretum, you're free to go where you will. Your luggage has already been delivered to your accommodation. Dinner is available in the main hall in two hours, you'll find menus in your rooms. Many other attractions are available, including a portraitist, an orchestra, hourly entertainments, and an extensive bar. Over the course of your stay, please feel free to find me or any other member of the hospitality team for any help you may need." The elevator slowed to a halt, and as the doors opened, for the first time since they'd met her, Donner smiled. She seemed to enjoy this part of her job.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the aviary."

A ragged exclamation of awe went up from the group. Even the two Malfians looked mildly impressed. Outside the elevator doors was a tangle of vegetation in all colours, a veritable forest. Above, a dome of thick armourglas and steel stanchions curved over the tops of trees of all kinds- palms, conifers, thin arbor-lines and squat buzz-bushes. Stone and polished wood pathways lead through the trees, towards the suggestion of convivial noise and light: a central area, with a bar and tables. Somewhere water was flowing. There was an artificial river in here. An artificial river in what was, well, space. It was impossible to miss, with the cosmos sprawled around the outside of the dome. The deep black of space contrasted with the bright reds, blues and greens of the forest: which seemed carefully maintained, like the largest flower arrangement in the imperium.

And everywhere the birds, darting, flitting, all colours. The smallest were the size of fingers, the largest swooping double-headed eagles, that perched in the upper branches and ate meat from silver dishes. It was hard not to hear their calls, chirruping, squeaking, chirping, and crying. There must have been dozens, of all sizes. The closest were fat puff-birds, sat on a branch, bills wide open to taste the air: slightly further a slender avian the size of a small dog was rooting through the soil and wood chippings for insects. The two children were stunned into silence, eyes round like saucers. Donner was only slightly less captivated.

The party dispersed amongst the forest, the children running ahead. The Malfian brothers strode off in time, followed by the bodyguards and the scurrying secretary. Signs were posted discreetly, pointing the way to the accommodation, to the dining hall, to a dozen other places.

OOC

Spoiler

Show

Alright! Now you're really free to roam the station. If you had more to say on the ship, you can make a timesplit post, or simply speak to them now on Xanadu.