Imperator Non Inridetur

[Vexing]

Spoiler: Platforms

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Spoiler: Secundus

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"'Ow do ye' think we ken get around to that?" Garret's eyes skip right over the sanctioning brand, almost as if he doesn't understand its significance. Not impossible; after all, the odds of any one laborer seeing an active, Sanctioned, Throne-bound psyker were many, many thousands to one. "Yer not a pilgrim, are ye'", he continues, shifting his massive bulk on the bunk as he awaits his answer. "Too much steel."

Spoiler: Trifectus

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By the time you turn back around to watch, they're already off and on their way. Getting back through the passages, to the shuttle, and right back to Weyland's Gate proves no trouble in the slightest.

[ArcturusV]

"I seek the safety and power of the God-Emperor, Master of Mankind, willing to give up everything for it. What else makes one a Pilgrim?" he asked, his voice full of conviction as he said it. He had the door to the warp in his mind, and had sought out the protection of the Emperor from the Daemons he knew were drawn to his Soul Flame for decades now, it was true enough.

"As for how? That is the easy part," Quint gave a grim smile, "No great gathering and showy demonstrations needed. Merely go out there, let people know what is going on, that soon the Faithful will be called to action. Do what they can to prepare, be it grabbing a simple weapon, or taking rations of Rotgut and turning it into simple fiery explosives (OoC Note: Yes, that is exactly how Firebomb Grenades are made in the rules/fluff, it's what they are, and thus why they are plentiful, they're Molotovs! ). Faith and fire, young buck, that is how a proper Redemptionist purge is carried out."

He tapped his staff once more, nodding to the hanging arrow charm, "Find the ones who wear that charm, I'm sure you know a few. Let them know that in the next few days they will likely be called up to set everything right. Just keep their heads down, pray as normal, work, and prepare some weapons. I know a few others who will join us, and when the time comes we'll be prepared to do what others should have."

He looked back at Garret, "... well... are you ready to put things right, so the daemon takes no more of the Faithful, and others can flourish here once more? Or do you keep your head down, and hope that it continues to ignore you, until no one is left but those who wear the charms, the only ones left who can slake the daemon's thirst?"

[LeSwordfish]

A brief conversation clarifying location later, and Annie strolled into the shrine with her hands in her pockets. After being filled in on what the others had found, she sat down with her feet up on a pew, and began to explain what she'd discovered.

"So. Like 'Kady here was saying, there's been a bunch of riots. Word is, they're busting up folks for "congregating", which sounds to me like, whatever it is, they ain't telling us the real reason. Last one was just a few days ago."

"Hydro-labs've been crunched by something, that's part of why there's so little food around. Folks don't want to speculate as ter what, which has me interested."

"An apparently the cog-boys should be able to solve this. Should, but ain't. Barman implied that they can track people through the station- doors with eyes, machine-spirits that track you moving- so how come they ain't finding people?"

"'Kady's right, the coggers are losing control of this place. They should be able to find the missing folks, but they ain't. They should be able to get the refineries running, but they ain't. If they ain't even protecting their workers well... ain't my place to speculate, but maybe they don't care no more. Like they got bigger ideas. Could just be that they genuinely can't do this ****."

"I also been thinking bout the missing people an their list. Most've em went missing in groups- a few people, a few weeks, a few more people all at once. In more'n one place, too, so it probably ain't one "ghost"."

"You want my advice on what to do next, I reckon one of us should go and see the cogboy who's our contact, and talk about these door-spirits. See if we could track the missing folks. We should also start looking at what happened to the food, and when. I want a timeline of this crap."

[runestone]

Gaius spends a moment studying the charm that Tirantine had gotten from the thug.

"I ... I'm not sure. The imperial cult takes many forms, and this is very different from what I know from home, but I've heard that similar symbols are used by the cult on some primitive worlds. So the thug may have been right when he said that it was a holy symbol. On the other hand, we shouldn't rule out the possibility that something sinister is using this as a disguise to lead the faithful astray"

"Before we got here, I suspected that the adepts might have been silenced because they uncovered inconvenient truths, but the timing seems to imply that something much more strange is going on"

When Annie brings up their contacts, Gaius frowns for a moment "I would rather wait a little longer before we contact any of them. To make sure we know the right questions to ask"

Then he pulls out his writing kit and starts taking notes "But I agree that we need to figure out the timing of these events. It seems to me that the failing industrial production and food production were the first signs that something was wrong. That started more than half a year ago. Long before the missing adepts and the riots"

[Vexing]

Spoiler: Platform Secundus

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Perhaps used to being told what to do, the great man hangs attentively on every word Quint tells him, but he does hesitate at the end of the firebrand speech. "...'Ow would we find a daemon, gaffer? Me mam told me that they walks through walls, an' steel can't 'urt 'em at all." Fingering his charm nervously, he glances down at the two massive work boots on his feet rather than maintain eye contact.

"I'm ready, though. Can't jus' wait 'round for more folks te' get snatched. I ken talk te' friends on shift, get word out. Anythin' else?"

[ArcturusV]

"Faith and fire," Quint repeated with purpose, "I've seen it before, fire always works, and a man of true faith can harm even the darkest of things. Put your faith in the God-Emperor, and you will be like an Angel of Death before the Daemon."

Quint pulled his hood back up, "I need to go out and track down this... thing, and get a bit more help myself. You do what you must, and I'll be back when it is time," Quint's voice dropped down, solemn, as he reached out to Garret and grabbed him on the shoulder. "If something happens to me? It'll be up to you. You're a good man, true to the Emperor. 'Blessed is a mind too small for doubt'," he quoted from the sacred teachings, "Do not think, do not doubt, but trust in your Faith and Fire."

With that, he turned to leave the Hab, having much to do, and less time to do it. Once he was out and clear of the Hab he let out a little sigh. He wasn't cut out for this Inquisitorial Grunt work, dealing with people and skulking around. But at least things were being progressed, and maybe if it worked out the Inquisitor would move him to a more suitable job...

[Vexing]

Spoiler: Quint

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As the platform proper seems to be between shifts, there's not much of a crowd for the psyker to force his way through this time around. The shuttles for Primus, Trifectus, and Weyland's Gate are making their appointed rounds on time, and with little to no effort Quint worms his way into a seat aboard the one bound for Trifectus--and the Mortuarium. By the time the sparsely filled vessel docks at his destination, it's time for another shift change and the landing bay is filled with a huddle of workers jostling for space and doing their best to reconnect with friends and family between their hours. Several maps on the nearby walls outline which passages lead where, but next to none of the milling crowd is utilizing them, leaving them open for his perusal.

[ArcturusV]

After worming his way through the crowd to get to the maps, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He didn't poke his finger at the map like some space hillbilly. '... always hated those morons who used their finger to read...' Never knew who might be watching the strange old man pilgrim wandering around. Why make it easier for them to see where he was going and take all the fun out of shadowing him?

Once he had the path to the Moratorium figured out, he started to hobble along, taking something of a slow, leisurely pace, not on a direct path to the place but seeming to be touring around, watching people, looking at the sites (such as they were), looking more like a foreign pilgrim to the station curious about how the Faithful lived under the blight of the Omnissiah instead of a man on a mission.

Hopefully he'd get to the Moratorium in tact, or failing that, at least have spotted any curious tails before he got there.

[Vexing]

Spoiler: Platform Trifectus

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The station life itself doesn't seem to be anything at all out of the ordinary; if anything, it seems almost oppressively mundane after all the odd tales Quint has been told in the past few hours. Laborers shuffle from task-bays, trading stories and jibes as they cut through passages or on elevated gangways above; when the Psyker cuts by the Habs, he can see small groups of children pointing and laughing at him and his "funny stick!"; even the small shrine to Veris seems to be in good order, with small groups of the faithful gathering to hear a light sermon from its attending priest.

The mood, however, suffers a rather sharp change when he approaches the Mortuarium. An imposing edifice, a great door has been built into the plates of the station itself; set with rockcrete panels (polished to look like worked stone) of the glories of martyrdom and dutiful death, it projects a very somber energy indeed. Few people hover around at this end of the platform, and even they are only passing through. Occasionally, one will stoop by the small kneeler shrine to Veris set to the left of the door and watched by a glazed-eye servitor, adding another stick of crude incense to a veritable forest of burn-out copies.

To the right of the door (perhaps to watch the servitor), is an older man with a grim expression and tired eyes.

[ArcturusV]

... interesting... That thought kept repeating as he noted things about the station. Most of it being exactly what he expected from a functional station life. Hardly the den of misery and corruption, unproductive, etc, that he had been lead to believe.

Quint approached the door, seemingly in a hurry, large steps taken, huffing and puffing a bit as if he had been tromping like that for quite a while. He stopped near the door, between servitor and the older man, gasping for breath and looking like he was trying to get his heart back in order, "Message for Novice Trager," he told the old man, giving a crisp, practiced Aquila salute to the man, "... seems she ticked off Father Schaff earlier..." he chuckled a bit nervously and shook his head slowly, "... wouldn't want to be her an hour from now... wheeew."

[Idares]

After letting his fellow acolytes have a read at the list of missing Adpets he has provided, he takes one last deep breath on his lho-stick causing it to make a crackling sound.

"I have to side with Brother Cleric Eckman. It is a bit premature to tap into your contacts, favours beckon favours. I will however agree with the Gunslinger, if her information is correct, then surely we must investigate the "crunching" of this Hydro labs, no?"

The Duke crushes the lho-stick under his boot and fastens his girdle and cloak. "Well?"

[runestone]

"I think we can believe the story that Annie was told. Quint has recruited the novice who tended this shrine when we arrived as a contact, and she told him the same tale. Her name is Anna Trager, and she serves in the mortuarium on Trifectus"

"I am going to spend the night here, and report to father Scharff tomorrow as commanded. That should allow me some time to investigate the ministorum. However, it worries me, that we have no access to the Adeptus Mechanicus. They hold almost all the power here, and yet none of us have even seen a one of them, right? How will we know what they doing? Akadia, Duke Tirantine could one of you find an excuse to get closer to them?"

"What about you, Annie, do you intend to go back to Goltos to investigate further? Or would you still rather interrogate our contact? As I said, I think it is premature, but what questions did you intend to ask him?"

"By the way, I can probably convince some of the faithful to take you in as pilgrims, if you need a place to stay and blend in"

[LeSwordfish]

Annie thought for a moment. "See, what I want is dates. Did food go down before the first disappearance? When was the first riot? Were there riots before the food stopped? No better way to get that information than straight-up asking someone, savvy? If we've got a contact here who can tell us all of this, I don't see why we don't use them. Not like they get used up."

"Now, see, as well as that, if this arse about the coggers knowing everything is true, why can't we know everything? Where was the last place each person went to before going off-grid? Was there something in common? You ask me, that's the most important crap we can know."

She took her boots off the pew and looked around. "As for sleeping, i'll kip wherever. Ain't me first night on a bulkhead."

OOC

Spoiler

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What time of day is it?

[Vexing]

Spoiler: Trifectus

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The robed man lifts a grey eyebrow and folds his arms, clearly unimpressed by the 'pilgrim'. "Novice Trager is busy with her duties, and isn't to be disturbed under any circumstances by an outsider. If you've a message from the Father, please, feel free to leave it with me. I make it my personal bond to you that she'll receive it in your stead. After all," he smirks, "it's also his word that she not be distracted." It certainly wouldn't take an Inquisitorial investigation to pick up on his barely concealed disdain for the elderly traveler.

[ArcturusV]

Quint shrugged and sighed a bit, "I don't suppose you mind telling me your name, will you?" Quint asked the fellow old timer, giving time for him to supply a name before he carried on, "... good, good, now when I go back to Father Schaff... who seems to be in a particularly foul mood... his offices smell horrible by the way too, can't be helping matters... and tell him that the investigation into the heretic who headbutted him back on Weyland's Gate has been delayed, that it's because of (Insert Name Here) wouldn't release a key witness on his orders. You know his temper, he wants to see that Heretic hanged, and quickly as possible."

[runestone]

Gaius thinks for a moment "The problem is that I see no way to ask those questions without implying that the Adeptus Mechanicus are either incompetent or corrupt, and we've been told that this contact is loyal to them above all else, so I'm afraid he'll refuse to cooperate"

[LeSwordfish]

Annie nodded. "Aye. Okay, then, skip the machine stuff. Any reason I don't go to our other contacts, get a timeline off them?"

[Idares]

"One thing I have learned in hunting heretics is to trust no one. The only reason I trust the likes of you is because our employers have deemed you fit. I would rather gather my own information before we confront an informant so that I can have him step into any contradictions with hard facts when he tries to lie to me." He says inspecting his finely polished lho-stick case.

Turning to face the cleric. "Unfortunately, Techseers do not fall under the usual subjects of my interrogations, so it might be ill advised for me to do it. They have no sense of royal station really."

"Miss Lee, I wish to pry at the this station that has been "crunched" as you mentioned. It would be highly appreciated if you could guide me there. Otherwise, we have a contact in the Administratum who seems to be an expert archivist if you truly are so pressed to dive into our contacts."

Spoiler: OOC

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Is the Golto's station in ruins? Im slightly confused.

[LeSwordfish]

"I can point you at their head office, but I dunno where the specific problem is." Annie eyed the Duke a little warily. In her experience, it was rarely long until someone so cultured started trying to make her life difficult.

[qechua]

Our 'illustrious' leader said the platform has been falling short on tithe. Maybe we can just knock on the front door, the administatum screws up all the time, we could act like we've been dispatched to find out why they aren't meeting requirements. At the very least, we can see what state the mechanicus here is in, and saves the trouble of using contacts just yet

[Vexing]

Spoiler: Platform Trifectus

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Doran (as his name turned out to be) seems to derive some deep satisfaction from Quint's story and not-so-subtle threat. "I do know his temper, sir. Which is exactly why I intend to keep my post here, and why you will make yourself scarce." Chuckling, he glances over to the nearby shrine. "Lying in the presence of a Saint is a sin, no matter your hunger. She'll not be handing out any more rations for you and yours; I advise you to simply make do with your allotted portion, like the rest of us." Shooing Quint off with his hands, he resumes his stony vigil.

[runestone]

Gaius is nervously fidgeting with his rosary as they speak "I .. I'm not sure about the best course of action. This place may erupt in open rebellion soon, so we may not have much time to act. Perhaps it would actually be best to approach the archivist as Annie suggested, but we would have to be careful how we ask our questions. Perhaps the things we really want to know can be disguised among other questions? Who and what did the missing adepts work with? Are there any connections to the rioters? What ships have docked the last two months? Where were the missing adepts last seen? -- and so on"

Then he turns to the duke "Your Grace, you have more experience with interrogations than the rest of us, could something like that work? At the very least, it should tell us what story the Adeptus Mechanicus would like us to hear"

[ArcturusV]

His pistol wasn't exactly the terrible weapon that Quint would have chosen for general work. It was small, for a firearm it did little damage, and it didn't carry many shots before it had to be reloaded, a long, painful process. But it had it's moments. In particular it was lightweight, easy to hide, easy to draw, almost impossible to jam, also that it was silent. It had its moments. Like this one.

His revolver dropped out of his sleeve, and into his hand, curled and waiting for it, lifted up to the Old Man in one smooth motion, "You have lost the faith," he told Doran as he pulled the trigger, taking a gamble on his ability to silently take down the old man cleric before he could possibly type in whatever command activated the servitor on some data-slate or data-port.

Spoiler: Mechanics!

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I am guessing this works as a Surprise Round, as he had no reason to think I was about to cap his ass, thinking I was just some hungry rating.

Thus:

(1d100)[43] vs 33 Ballistics Skill, +30 for a Surprised Target, +30 for Point Blank Range, +0 for Standard Shot. I have 2/3 rounds in the Revolver. It's Reliable so if I rolled a jam: (1d10)[2] Unless I roll a 10 its just a miss, not a Jam.

Damage, if need: (1d10)[5] or DoS on the Attack Roll, whichever is better +2 Impact Damage, Pen 0. Because it's not primitive any primitive armor he might have is halved, rounded down so he needs at least AP 2 (Primitive) have any effect, so Quilted Armor, for example, would have no effect. Due to Surprised can't Dodge.

My revolver has a silencer so it can't be heard by anyone unless they're within 7m I believe (Hearing a shot with a silencer is half standard range, standard range on a Compact Revolver is 15m, if I recall), and even then it's at -20 Awareness.

[Vexing]

Spoiler: Platform Trifectus

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The old priest's wide-eyed expression would be almost comical, if it weren't for the neat, thumb-sized hole blown into his chest. The edges of the surrounding fabric were slightly smoked from the pistol's close proximity, and even as the split second stretched by, a deep red began to leak into Doran's priestly robes. With the faint sound of air escaping lungs, he turns towards the servitor, raising a hand for help--too slowly.

Fortunately for Quint, no one else seems to have noticed the altercation. As a matter of fact, he doesn't hear anyone at all behind himself.

[ArcturusV]

Quint channels all the frustration lately. Being stuck with Thugs like Kestrel and Garret, being stuck in a job that would likely see him in combat against Daemons rather than studying as he'd like, being stuck with a door to hell inside his head that he can never fully shut, cosigned to damnation by some twist of fate.

He pulled the trigger again, making sure that the Brother, someone who was everything he wanted to be... and was throwing it away to cover up heresy and daemonic incursion, was scoured from the Emperor's realm.

Spoiler: Mechanics, Ho!

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Taking a Half Action Aim, and a Half Action Standard Shot.

(1d100)[41] vs 33 Ballistics Skill, +10 Aiming, +30 Point Blank Range. 1/3 loaded into the Revolver's "Clip".

Damage, if needed:

(1d10)[10] or DoS, whichever is better, +2 Impact Damage, Pen 0.

[Vexing]

Spoiler: Platform Trifectus

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The second shot thuds into Doran with a muffled report. Wheezing slightly, he pitches to the left as he falls, outstretched hand not quite reaching the small shrine to Veris. The servitor turns its head to observe the fallen man breath his last with its dead expression...and returns to staring straight ahead, apparently unconcerned by the priest's bubbling groan. Even that is soon silenced, leaving only the faint noise of burning incense sticks and the electric whirr of the servitor's innards. Brother Doran appears to be well and truly dead, face down on the deck plating in front of the Mortuarium door.

For good or ill, Quint has been extremely fortunate: no other laborer or devotee was passing through during the extremely brief altercation, but there's no telling when that might change.

[ArcturusV]

Quint tucks his revolver up his sleeve once more, now that the violence was over, hiding it on his person like it was never there to start with. He looked up to the shrine of Venris and inclined his head a bit in respect.

... and with that hauled the dead man to the door, opening it up and dragging Fresh Meat into the place meant to dispose of him after all, the Moratuarium. Audacity? What's that? He didn't skulk around and look suspicious as he dragged the fallen cleric into the place, taking a look around and pulling him along towards where he figured that the Holy Hooker would be.

[Vexing]

Spoiler: Platform Trifectus, Mortuarium

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If the outer facade of the Mortuarium was sobering, the interior is downright chilling. The passageway Quint finds himself in seems to be made of hewn stone (more likely treated rockcrete) than metal plating; las-cut reliefs define the walls to either side of him, images of Drusus ascendant after his miraculous rebirth the most prominent scene of all. Rather than being lit with dependable glow-globes or any sort of technical light fixture, wax candles have been stuck into any niche large enough to hold them. The air is thick with incense, despite the distant whine of a recycler; between the aromatic smoke and the poor lighting, the whole space feels cavernous and somehow removed from the station outside.

Down the passageway, tramping half-mechanical servitors can be seen doing everything from carrying incense sticks to replacing spent candles. There only appear to be three possible ways to go; a near immediate turn into another chamber blocked by a steel door to your right, a second right turn much further up the passage that ends in a metal door, and the end of the passage itself which seems to be constructed of a pressurized bulkhead catch. Quint's choice is made all the easier by a familiar female voice echoing from the first chamber, chiding something. "No, no, no. The third blade, set seven. Seven. Useless little thing that you are. Now, incise here and here..."

[ArcturusV]

With his staff, Quint rapped hard on the metal door, nice and loud to draw the attention of the Holy Hooker within, "Novice Trager! You open up right now!" he called out, with a voice that was a perhaps decent imitation of Father Schaff, counting on their shared old, grizzled natures to help match. He stood there, with staff in one hand, body in the other, waiting for Anna Trager to open up.

[Vexing]

Spoiler: Platform Trifectus, Mortuarium

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Metal clatters on metal and there's a whispered swear, followed by something that sounds like the splash of something in water. "One moment, Father!," she calls out. Within seconds the door opens, Anna Trager drying her hands on a clean patch of rough fabric. "I've been taking a closer look at the fe..." Trailing off, she blinks at Quint in confusion. "Inq--I mean, Quint, why are you he--" She fails to finish her second sentence, even, as she sees and recognizes the body the aged psyker is carrying; her senses are apparently well adjusted to dim lighting. "Brother Doran?!", she screams out, the sound echoing intolerably loud in the doorway.