Holidays in the Sun [IC]

[ArcturusV]

"Why For," 'Scab' repeated the designation of the floating death icon. "Why For, Why For?" he chuckled to himself as if he had made some truly epic joke that had forever changed the very nature of comedy itself. He shifted on his feet, making sure to reposition so his legs didn't go numb from spendign so long crouched down here, waiting for death to come to for them.

His eyes glanced over at Zanna now that Zanna was eating too. Someone here was going to die. It just had to be with such foul smelling stuff. It couldn't be safe to consume. Was it the Sticker? That could make sense. People probably didn't like getting Sticked. He imagined it hurt a lot. Did one of them get Sticked and wanted to rid the place of a Sticker? Who did the Stick go to if she died? Was he supposed to take up the stick and scream "LUH!" while bashing people? Was that how it goes?

The confusion was plain on his face as he pondered the question of Arbiter succession and his own role in this strange meeting.

[dancrilis]

Lho

Looking at Scab - "in short no he doesn't make real food, normally" she finished off the rest of her food quickly it had been a while, flicking her eyes towards the Tech-Priest "he makes them" looking at the servitor "from people, same as he makes food from sort of, if I understood him properly".

"What does the Y4 do than - armed protection, cleaning ...", she had meant about the man's own one earlier even as her eyes noted the others, but a poor habit of pointing at one thing and looking at another.

Returning her attention to Scab he hadn't touched his food - likely he was concerned about it, well his loss was her gain - she pointed "I'll take that if you don't want it" she didn't reach out yet if she pegged him right he would not give it up now that someone else wanted it and reaching for it would be seen as trying to steal, but if he didn't defend it that he likely didn't think it was his and she could feed herself up.

Keeping an eye on his food as she waited an opening, her focus turned back to the tech-priest "what is it about the spoon you are looking for?" she asked.

[Warmatt]

Shaking his head just a bit, he looks at Scab, somewhat wary, even of he does not say anything. Still, he watches and waits, used to being on the outside, and taking a sort of comfort from it. Still, as he looked to his soup, he took a small sip. Really, a bit too rich for his comfort, but from the sound if it, Scab knew only Corpse Starch. Yet, it would not surprise him.

So, his eyes keen, he would sample his food, while watching the others. Really, it was quite entertaining.

[Caimheul]

"Well, Y4-74M-1N3, or Yasamine as she prefers to be called, is an example of a servo-skull. Servo-skulls differ from servitors in many key areas, the most obvious of which being that the servo-skull requires the skull of a deceased creature as opposed to the still living body required for a servitor. Additionally, servo-skulls utilize anti-gravity units to both suspend themselves off of the ground and for locomotion. Yasamine here is an example of a utility servo-skull to assist me in performing the appropriate rituals for the repair and maintenance of various items of machinery. Prior to being honoured with the transformation into a servo-skull, she served valiantly in the Yanth 412th Light Infantry Regiment, falling in battle while allowing several other regiments to strategically re-deploy while serving on Myros Kappa," Romulus states in a pleased tone of voice, happy to have seemingly found a willing audience.
"As for my fascination with this spoon, that stems from having never held or even seen one before. There is no need for such devices on Mechanicus vessels."

[Caimheul]

Romulus's mind appears as a room of pigeonholes full of scrolls, stretching so high up that clouds obscure the upper reaches. Servo-skulls flit between the various slots, occasionally rearranging the scrolls, or bringing one down to the two figures standing at a workbench in the center of the room. One of the figures is recognizable as Romulus, while the other an unknown woman with the same bionics on her face as the tech-priest's servo-skull companion, wearing the uniform of an Imperial Guard Sergeant. One of the scrolls is opened before the figures by the servo-skull carrying it, revealing a blueprint for a spoon.

[dancrilis]

Lho

Her thoughts were somewhat divergent - one area of them was consistently targeting everything around her with crosshairs and various other symbols, most people received clear read cross-hairs or varying brightness, items of interest appeared with gentler colours, and things without her interest appeared with a dull grey marker ... noted but not important. The servo-skull was grabbing a lot of her attention - or more directly the space beneath it verging from the read to the gentler and back to the red again.
The other half of her thoughts were wildly different, enjoying clean clothes and new food, wondering about the room and employment - some shadier looking individuals already pegged as possible conversation targets, and a strange affection for the private Scab something resembling nostalgia.

"Odd that you wouldn't have a spoon for visiting guests or dignitaries" she stated, taking her eyes off Scab's food and her attention mostly off it, she turned fully to the tech-priest "so if you can make that fly via that 'anti-gravity' could you make me a pack that would allow me to also fly or hover at decent height quitely? could be useful", if she could sit in a smug cloud and snipe targets unseen and unexpected it would be highly beneficial.

[Caimheul]

"Perhaps, but at my rank within the order, such an encounter would be outside the realm of my responsibilities. Additionally, the Mendelian Hereditas lacks a dedicated area for intaking sustenance, so such an interaction would be unlikely. It is further my understanding that many unenhanced humans have difficulties ingesting the nutrients typically utilized by the Mechanicus without further processing than the vessel undertakes," the tech-priest observes.
<Calm yourself, I certain she is just unenlightened...>"Unfortunately, such an endeavour is impossible for me. My speciality lies with the functions of organic beings and the integration of machines with living or former living tissue. A device similar to what you describe is known as a grav-chute, and most frequently employed by certain regiments of the Imperial Guard."

[ArcturusV]

"Eye gouger," 'Scab' clarified as people were talking about the spoon. He grabbed one up, and with a simple motion seemed to demonstrate the maneuver of sliding the spoon in and popping out an eye on a face hovering above the table. "Infiltration tool." He set the spoon aside in one of his pockets, never knowing when he'd need an eye gouger after all. He seemed to be the only one who actually knew how to use it after all, clearly the metal man and the person to his right did not. Strange people, very strange.

Spoiler: Mechanics!

Show

And "Scab" has acquired a spoon.

SPOOOOOON!

Edit: 'Scab' looked around curiously for a moment. Almost like a meerkat, back straightening up a little more, his eyes scanning over the room as a whole. His arms were drawn up to his chest as he did, seeming to look for something he heard or caught out of the corner of his eye or something. It wasn't quick, frantic spotting, but it was definitely looking for something.

He sniffed at the air, and his face crinkled up as if he smelled something truly foul, not quite to the point of being vomit inducing, but clearly repugnant to the senses. He hopped down off the chair, and waddled in a crouch under the table again. As he did go under the table, you saw him reaching for his blade and his pistol, gripping them in a combat ready grip. As soon as he was under the table, and out of sight, he was pulling them out. He turned his back to the center of the table and the large leg there (I presume), weapons out as if he was preparing for some last stand.

[Gospel Noctis]

The first thing you notice when delving into the mind of Zanna are the myriad screams and pleas for mercy reverberating down the long black metal walls of her psyche.

"PLEASE, I DIDN'T-"

"I'LL TALK! I'LL TALK!! PLEASE! IT WAS-"

"I DON'T KNOW~!!"

A room opened up at the end of the reinforced corridor, revealing what seemed to be some sort of large torture chamber. Every sort of device imaginable littered the room, and strapped tightly into each one was the likeness of a person; their features shifting every few seconds. Size, color, and even gender changing with disorienting frequency, though there was one thing that remained consistent between them. Every single one of them lacked any sort of facial features, their faces little more than blank canvases of flesh. Yet even lacking a mouth, each and everyone one of them still manged to scream.

Attending to each of the victims was Zanna, or to be more precise, some version of Zanna. It was as if someone had taken a copy of her from every point in her life and gathered them here, all to assist in the interrogation of countless heretics, law breakers, or those whose silence would aid either. In the middle of the seemingly boundless room was a raised platform, and sitting there on a simple throne made of unyielding black metal and surrounded by barbed wire was the woman as you had met her. Her massive armored form more relaxed than you'd ever seen her, as her half-lidded gaze roamed the room, surveying all that transpired. A smile of absolute serenity gracing her lips as she continued to listen to the symphony of screams and confessions around her.

[Caimheul]

"Interesting. I was unaware such a simple device had so many varied uses," Romulus observes with a newfound respect for the spoon. He looks up from the spoon, brow furrowed in confusion at Scabs behaviour. "I say, is everything all right? Is this some custom of which I am unaware?"

[Tigger]

Before Scab has the time to explain his strange behaviour, the sound of a knife being gently tapped on a glass calls the room to silence. The captain has once again risen from his seat.

“Guests, we are about to enter the Immaterium. Prepare yourselves to be amazed as we plunge into the Sea of Souls as you will be able to observe the mysteries of the Warp from our most advantageous position. Not a lot of mortals have been able to gaze into this void without becoming insane, but our modified Gellar Field will protect you from the dangers of admiring this terrible view. I have taken the liberty to ask Cardinal Cazale to lead us into prayer to ask for the blessing of the Emperor as we start our journey.”

You now see the portly Cardinal get up and soon, a voice formed to address larger assemblies in larger buildings fills the room.

“Fellow travelers, we ask the God Emperor of Mankind to guide us as we enter the realm of his enemies. Emperor, even though you sit on the Golden Throne on Blessed Terra, wounded by Traitors who thought themselves higher than the one who is highest of all, you shine your light in the darkness of the Empyrean, and thus allow your subjects to stand together as one great Imperium. Hear our prayer Emperor, and protect us as we enter the void.”

And, as the Cardinal, and the whole room with him, places his hands in the Aquila, you see the blackness of space being torn up in front of the ship, and through the tear that has appeared, the terrifying waves and currents of Warpspace. Soon, this terrible view fills the whole window, and you have entered the Realm of Chaos.

In just a short time, you feel that something wrong has happened: the metallic taste in your mouth, the trembling of your hands, the feeling that something is lurking just outside your range of vision are only the first sign. Soon, blood lust invades your mind and you feel that only the strongest resolve will allow you to remain in control of your soul.

Spoiler: Ready to roll?

Show

So this is going to be a Willpower test. Scab gets a +20 as he knew this was coming. The rest of you get a +10, as Scab's strange behavior means you are not caught completely unaware.

Should you fail the test, you'll have to roll for Shock, plus gain 1d5 corruption.

[ArcturusV]

It almost took hold of him. He wasn't sure what it was. Not in the academic sense. Just a sense of wrongness and yet familiarity. Bringing him back to the dark depths that most men, history, the Imperium, and others had forgotten back on the world of Sinares. There was a familiarity to it, and that wasn't a comforting thought. He could feel his chainsword rattling as the corruption almost overtook him. How easy it would be to squeeze down on that autopistol firing stud, and riddle everyone around him with metal slugs.

He kept it down, maintaining his control, not squeezing off those shots and revving up the chainsword. He knew out there, outside the underside of the table that it would be a madhouse. He had seen it before, but he couldn't remember where. People would rip each other apart, others be trampled to death, blood would flow.

But he was safe down here in the relative darkness. The darkness was his protector. The cover kept the eyes off of him. They would rampage, and he would be safe.

Safe.

Then killing.

[Warmatt]

He never liked warp travel, not once what he found out what he was. While an ordinary mind was a light in the warp, he was a beacon, and felt it constantly. Still, he was sanctioned on Holy Terra, trained to marshal his will, and protect both mind and soul, even as he gazes into the darkness of the warp. A faint sneer, one having hatred in it's base forms on it's lip as he gazes into the warp, even as he rises.

Do they have no understanding of how dangerous this is? While the Priest would be better able to warn them of perversions in the machine, he knew enough to know that you did not interfere or change the devices that protected souls from the warp! Better then most, he knew that.

Still, his mind a fortress, he looks around, attempting to see if any would have gripped by the bloodlust, before preparing to talk to the priest, and see if this variation on a critical protective measure was sanctioned, or if it was not.

[Caimheul]

At the word "modified" Romulus begins making a noise like a wire sparking. This lasts for the remainder of the Captain's speech before he seemingly snaps himself out of whatever for loop he was stuck in and begins emitting beeps and tones furiously but quietly. The biological portions of his face are growing red, and a scowl is visible around his eyes. <What nullpointerexception had their ethics.exe program crash to engage in THAT tech-heresy?! That poor abused machine spirit! Yes the Magos Juris does need to be notified, but parts of my brain are still loose from the last time they questioned me. If we survive this ClassNotFound.>

[dancrilis]

Lho

"Yes the spoon is a marvel of function, can be used as a weapon, feeding both liquid and solid, tapping out messages to people, if shiny enough looking around corners, interrogation, personal grooming ..." she would have went on but Scab's behaviour attracted her attention, there was no noise unexpected noise this time had he noted something she had not ...

It was at this moment that the captain started to speak, she didn't want to see what most people were not meant to see ... they likely didn't see it for a reason, but if this was what noble did it was better to observe she figured, as the fat man started to speak she began to focused on the window to see what the big deal was and as it changed she felt her soul crack.

The taste of metal in her mouth, spend casings, blood, underhive water all flooded her taste buds, than she saw the shapes shadows moving on there own, old enemies coming back to get her - fear lanced through her pervasive of the entire ship, and than the anger - cold and hard anger. The Captain and the fat man had brought this to them they were seeing what was not meant to be seen and she was suffering from it, the crystal thought in her mind was that if the left this place she would be free and safer - and the best method of that might be to kill those that brought them here.

Readying her rifle she began to take aim at the captain.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Using a Half Action to Draw her weapon.
Using a Half Action to aim at the captain.

Initiative (of needed): (1d10+4)[10]

[Gospel Noctis]

The haunting glow of the Immaterium poured through the windows, casting everything on board in its sinister light. A sharp, almost shocking jolt raced up her spine as the ship progressed further into warpspace, the unfamiliar feeling setting her on guard. It wasn't until the ship was fully immersed in the Sea of Souls that the passengers were fully assaulted by the madness inducing forces of the Warp. It's power flowing through the ship, assailing the fragile mortal minds of those on board.

Zanna steeled herself against the corruptive energies as they washed over her mind, her will an impenetrable fortress. The Warps unfocused flood of influence broke as it smashed against the walls of her will, instead flowing around her in search of less stalwart fortifications. She was on her feet in an instant, one hand reaching for the helm sitting on the table before her, the other drawing the bludgeon resting at her side. If the power of the Immaterium had breached the shields there is no telling what sort of mental state those of weaker fortitude were in. While her fellow acolytes seemed to be relatively stable, there was no telling what these weak-willed noblemen would react. Order must be maintained.

[Tigger]

“The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of of passionate intensity.”

All hell has broken loose in the dining room. The numerous guests that have succumbed to the blood lust have armed themselves with cutlery. You can see wives stabbing their husbands with steak knives, fathers gouging the eyes of their children with dessert spoons, cousins bashing the heads of their cousins with chandeliers. The cries of those being killed are covered by the roars of those doing the killing. Only your table seems to have come out mostly unscathed of the warp intrusion and, for now, the murderous diners have not turned towards you.

Closest to the group of acolytes is the main table, where the cardinal and the captain are standing back to back trying to keep at bay with their chairs three ship officers that have drawn their ceremonial swords and are hacking away the foots of the chairs as well as two priests who are trying to bash their heads with their crosier. Not much too far, you can see a Rogue Trader defending himself from his wife and children, less accustomed than him to the perils of the warp.

[Gospel Noctis]

Swiftly taking stock of the situation the armored behemoth walks forward and grabs hold of the barrel of Lhos gun, tightly gripping the firearms as she forces it's sights away from the captain.

"I want the captain and all engineers found taken alive and able to speak." She growls, meeting the assassins gaze with a cold hard stare. "There are questions that need to be answered and I will not have you killing off my leads before I have a chance to interrogate them."

Releasing the gun, she turns and marches off over towards the cardinal and captain, the vicious looking bludgeon in her main hand lighting up with a distinct crackling as she made her way across the room.

[ArcturusV]

What did the Lamp Man say?

That thought was in "Scab's" mind as he heard hell starting to break loose, the ting of blades on wood, the smacking impacts of brawls. Things were going to hell. In the Guard he knew his orders would be to Hold the Line and shoot/stab anyone who came close. That made sense. It removed the go to solution of "Run like hell" he would have used back in the dark of home. But it was there.

But the Lamp Man had different priorities. He tried to remember what the Lamp Man had said about things like this. His eyes looked out from under the table towards the chaos going on. And Chaos was right. He focused, important things first. Most of the people here didn't matter. If they died, then they died before becoming full HERETICS. Two of the others at the table were scuffling and discussing if the Officer of this place should be killed. Seemed like a stalemate.

Other Fancy Hat seemed to be a point of resistance under assault. Under the table, away from prying eyes, "Scab" closed his eyes, felt out with his senses, and gave the man a subtle little bit of help...

He tried to reach out with his strange abilities, to take a bowl of soup on that table, and fling it so the soup hit the Wife of the Rogue Trader in the face. Painful? Maybe a little if it was too hot. Obscure her vision and thus make her easy for the Rogue Trader to subdue? Most likely. He held his Chainsword in reserve, ready to defend in case the battle migrated under the table.

Spoiler: Mechanics!

Show

Half Action to Telekinetic Control a Bowl of Soup. Half Action as Guarded Attack, -10 WS on my turn, +10 to Evasion Tests until my next turn.

Telekinetic Control: (1d100)[38] vs 39 WP, +20 Test Modifier for Telekinetic Control, +10 Psy Focus, +0 Psy Rating of 1 being used. Final Mark of 69.

[Caimheul]

Romulus keeps a wary eye on everyone around him as he removes the cloth that was lightly draped on top of his autogun. "I fear she is right. Better to question the captain now and punish him later." <Oh yes, a sewage maintenance servitor would almost be a fitting punishment.> "Keeping him alive is our best bet to resolve this situation quickly."

Spoiler: Mechanics:

Show

Half Action Defensive action, Half action ready weapon.

[dancrilis]

Lho

Even with the chaos of the scenario she managed to take some small comfort in the familiarity of having a target, the rest of the world existed but more passively as she followed his movements and noted his attackers without really processing who they were are what they were doing - a sharp tug broke her concentration for a second, as did a face in her way but these distractions were replaced with the familiar clarity almost immediately as she rebalanced herself, there were people speaking quickly around her but she could examine any meaning to there words later.

She knew her shot was not what she would have wanted from herself, the situation was not controlled enough but when the moment felt right she took it.

[Warmatt]

As he gathered his focus, gathered the purifying flame inside of his mind, assembling the formula and the incantation, there was a nearby disturbance, one whose implications shocked him, and disrupted his concentration, tore his focus, as he was left with the truth. There was one here able to manipulate the warp to some degree, another psyker. Still, given the background and the swirling storm of emotions, he only knows it came from his left, leaving only a few suspects, ones that he will watch carefully and test.

[Tigger]

Seeing their captain’s torso hit by a bullet did not sadden his fellow officers, which might seem less surprising considering they were trying to kill him themselves. Moreover, being covered in bits and pieces of his internal organs actually rejoiced them quite a lot. In fact, the only person to be truly affected by the shot is the Cardinal, who just lost his fellow comrade in fighting off the crazed officers and priests. He’s now looking at Zanna with a mixture of hope and desperation, as he is not absolutely sure who she is gonna hit with her shock-maul. After all, the captain of the ship has just been cut down by sniper fire coming from her group.

Less apparent, but more extraordinary, is the bowl of soup that saved the life of a Rogue Trader and his family. The miraculous levitation of that dish and the ensuing pouring of hot soup into the eyes of the belligerent woman have given sufficient time for her husband to throw her to the ground and bind her hands with his napkin. His two children, without the support of his mother, are now no match for him and it seems that their father will be able to survive this ordeal without having to kill any of his relatives.

Not every guest can say the same. In fact, almost no guest can say the same, as the dining room is the scene of a carnage more reminiscent of the Cadian Gate than of a luxury ship. Pretty soon, there will be no one else to kill on the other side of the room and the tide will roll towards the acolytes of Inquisitor Lucan. For now, they can still hope to live a few more seconds, and keep on killing either suspected heretics or blood-thirsty innocents.

Spoiler: Let's hope for a smooth turn

Show

So no one is targeting you for now.
Zanna is in melee range with the Cardinal's group (3 officers and 2 priests, for reference sake).
Otherwise, you are all still standing around your table.

[Gospel Noctis]

Zanna sizes up her targets as she approaches, looking to take out the biggest threat with her first strike. But, before she can even raise the weapon in her hand the loud crack of gunfire splits the air, the captain dropping to the ground a moment later. A flash of rage flushes through her system as she connects the dots before quickly being smothered out, suppressed for the time being. Now wasn't the time for this.

"Subdue that woman!" She calls back to her fellow acolytes. "She's as Warp crazy as the rest of these fools, and we haven't the time to waste trying to coax her out of it!"

She pressed on. An officer turned towards the source of the shouting only to be greeted by the business end of the Arbitrators bludgeon, the heavy head of the maul crashing brutally into the mans right thigh. The force of the blow staggering the man as he howled in pain. The follow up swing came just as swiftly, seeming intent on crushing the officers arm; the distinct tittering of electricity crackling out all the while.

[Caimheul]

The tech-priest scans the dining room, trying to figure out the best way he can contribute. <I could fire over there to aid the Rogue Trader... Although it does seem he does not want to hurt his attackers for some reason. Nevermind that bowl of soup aided him... You mean that isn't normal behaviour for soup? Interesting... I could try shooting...> his analysis stops when the gunshot rings out and the Captain falls backwards. <Oh CoreDump. I suppose I should prepare to render medical aid once he is brought over here... What do you mean that's not how this works? ... But I ... But...>He lets out a soft burst of white noise, before visibly gathering himself up, and charging towards the maddened ship's officer still standing over the captain emitting a series of beeps and noises that must be an Adeptus Mechanicus warcry. <WHY AM I LISTENING TO YOU?!>
His inexperience in melee combat shows as stumbles on the hem of his robes, missing his target with the butt of his rifle. Fortunately, the chain scalpel on his mechadendrite still scores a blow on the officer's chest.

[dancrilis]

Lho

She was still agitated but having taken out the likely lead cultist she was willing to consider matters a bit - enough that she could properly make out words as they were said at least - being accused of being affected by whatever was targeting people was insulting at best and possible treacherous at worst, the temptation to finish her accuser was present, but she snuffed it out, it was not the time. She was already moving as she locked and stored her weapon at her side - it was not suitable for close quarters - and saw the other woman's target collapse after the savage blows she muttered "yea I'm the crazy one".

Approaching the table of the rogue trader - a people that normally were practical minded and knew about ships she straightened herself and positioned herself so that she would not have to see the window there if she could avoid looking things might be better. "Greetings sir, you seem reasoned - we need to get out of this ... " she trailed off gesturing at the window "... it is not my area - what do I need to do to make that happen". If she had a root to a target she could kill to force a them out if this she would focus on that - she hated how this place felt.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Half Action: Can move 4 meters towards the rogue traders table.
Half Action: Stow away her weapon.

Not sure how much we are sticking with the round being ~5 seconds - her talking would be about 10 seconds if she is speaking fast but still clear enough to be understood.

[ArcturusV]

"Scab" peeked out under the table, looking around at the unfolding situation. The Fancy people seemed to be getting taken care of. That suited him well enough. It was exactly what the Fancy Hat Man with Lamp would expect of a situation, right? The danger right now, as his senses told him and battlefield experience was the others massing up for a charge. Just like those Green Guys, or those guys with the Starburst Symbols. They both loved to do things like that.

Thankfully he did know what to do in order to fix their wagon, as he heard one member of the Regiment put it for some reason. He aimed up his Autopistol, watching and waiting for the tide to start forming before he'd unleash a burst in their direction.

Spoiler: Mechanics!

Show

"Scab" is actually using Overwatch, which I am normally loathe to do because it SUCKS... but it is really my only/best option for this. Though I did see they changed Overwatch this edition to be both better and worse... huh...

Overwatch Trigger: If the crowd starts to come towards their corner of the room.

Overwatch Agility Mark: If their Agility is less than 35, I go before their action. If it's greater than 35 they go before my action, which sucks.

Overwatch Attack (Full Auto Burst): (1d100)[7] vs 27 BS, -10 Full Auto Rate of Fire, +0 Range Increment most likely, Final Mark of 17.

Everyone in the arc of fire needs to make a -20 Pinning Test when/if the Overwatch is Triggered.

12/18 rounds in clip of my Autopistol.

[Warmatt]

As he watched the contest, and kept an eye on the fighting, the madness not yet fighting in their general direction, he calmed himself, and reached for the powers inside of him and out, for that core of inner flame, the beacon that he nurtured and grew. Opening his eyes and pointing his staff, he spoke a word, and a bolt of flame erupted from the end, searing into the maddened officer. Still, as he looked over the melee, the storm would soon be on them, and they would be lucky to survive.

Really, what had the fool been thinking with this Gellar field, and exposing these fools to the warp?

[Tigger]

In the midst of chaos, strange encounters can happen and unlikely friendships are formed. Mustafa Al-Razid, from the Al-Razid dynasty of Rogue Traders, cannot but feel happy when he sees a face not deformed by the need to kill. Hence his relieved tone when he answers Lho’s question: “You mean being in the warp with the Gellar Field malfunctioning? We need to get to the bridge and take the ship out of warpspace. I don’t understand why the crew up there has not done so yet.” He cannot say more, as, finally, the red tide is coming their way.

The 35th congress of the dental chirurgeons of Lankira Hive, who were sitting in the southwest corner, has finally been reduced to a mob decided on inflicting pain without the excuse of straightening the dentition of its patients. The few of them who kept their heads straight are now in pieces, and six specialists of oral surgery are now charging your way. Their leader, upon entering Scab’s line of fire, takes two bullets to the chest and falls prone on the group, but Imperial Guard quality shooting does not seem to convince the tooth specialists that their attack is doomed, and they are soon closing in on Lho and Mustafa.

On the other side of the room, one officer is dead on the ground and the remains of his shattered arm are encrusted in Zanna’s carapace armor. The captain is barely able to stay upright after having been shot, but keeps on fighting his officers, on the verge of death. The arm of one of them is on fire, but he does not seem to be overly concern by this fact, proof if one was needed that his mind has been warped beyond human nature.

[Gospel Noctis]

Zanna frowned deeply as her she was pelted by flying shards of bone and gore from what used to be the crazed officers arm. Glancing down at the blood drench mace in her main hand she couldn't help but let out a deep sigh of disappointed, both at the lack of resilience of an officer of the Imperium as well as her own lack of control.

"I guess I'll need to hold back," She mutters to herself as she takes aim at one of the men dressed in priests robes. "Lest I waste more of the Imperiums resources." Once more she brings her shock maul to bear, slamming the crackling instrument into the mans chest with noticeably less force than she had displayed previously.