Touchdown

[ribblle]

The note within the car is simple. "Back of the Temple of Regnover, 18:00, 0 150 998.M41. —The Emperor Protects"

You have 1 hour, and someones riding shotgun.

[Dazhbug]

The large, dark man hulks quietly in the back of the vehicle, eyes glowing faintly yellow in the dim light. He sniffs the air, nose crinkling in distaste, and...

Spoiler: grins

Show

"<Truly, I am among the devil-lands now.>" He fingers a charm on his belt, a tiny, fanged skull.

"Where... go?" he says, in halting Low Gothic.

[Daishain]

Nihilius puts on a facade of ignoring the man by him, while keeping a wary eye out, what had he done to offend that landed him in the company of this savage? It would seem that his patience would be sorely tested in the days to come.

Eventually, he states, "Just get in, and don't touch anything." To himself he thinks, 'I shall surely have to appease the spirit of this vehicle before the night is through.'

When all have boarded, he will take up the controls and begin driving towards the indicated temple.

[Dazhbug]

Spoiler: The large man sniffs at Nihilius in passing.

Show

"Hrmmmm, stone and... oil, like the..." he searches in the air for a moment. "Veeeeehicle. You serve the... Mack-cheen, then."

[Daishain]

"Just get in the car, we have a task to complete, I would see it done swiftly."

[Dazhbug]

"Yes." The large man moves around to the side door and folds himself gracefully into the back of the vehicle, poking at the interior upholstery. As they get under way, he leans forward towards the pilot compartment.

"By what name are you known?"

[Daishain]

He is silent for a time, not wishing to answer. Eventually he states "Nihilius"

[Dazhbug]

"Neeeee-hi-lus". The man turns the syllables over in his mouth, and chuckles. "Is strange. Do not spirits normally talk more?"

He fingers another charm, this one a tiny, crude doll attached to one of his dreadlocks, and rumbles. "I am.... hmmm, Tikoloshe."

[Daishain]

Smoothly pivoting the vehicle around a corner, Nihilius simply says "I speak when it is necessary."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Sorry for the brevity, but we've got a real case of opposites annoying each other here
That may change as Nihilius sees the value of the other, but for now...

[Dazhbug]

His companion's shoulders shrug like a an avalanche on a distant crag; Tikoloshe is no stranger to silence.

He settles back in the passenger couch, running fingers over the various surfaces and textures of the vehicle with his eyes closed in a near-reverent fashion.

[ribblle]

At the appointed hour, you have made your way through the bustling faceless masses of the Administratum quarter to an unmarked service elevator platform, set in the rear of a vast and imposing building.



Between the towers can be glimpsed the face of a weeping saint. Below, it appears that you are expected; the wizened face of the platform’s inbuilt servitor

Spoiler: studies you.

Show

"Pass!" the servitor hisses.

Your shipmates have joined you, and you make for an uncomfortable and diverse looking group, standing in tense silence. There's a chime as the last one of you boards the platform and the elevator descends, the hatchway closing above you all with a clatter. The platform continues downward for some minutes through maintenance levels, deep into the bowels of the government district.

The elevator slowly clunks into place.



You step into the darkness beyond and globes held by cherubs flicker into life, while those behind you extinguish. There is but one path, the corridor is featureless and smells faintly of chemical disinfectant.

After about five minutes, the corridor ends in an armoured metal door, which

Spoiler: unseals and unlocks.

Show

Within, you see only your shadow - blink - a wide, opaque mirror filling the upper half of the wall opposite. Harsh light glares upon a jumbled stack against one wall while a hospital gurney complete with restraint straps lies toppled against the other.

The mirror begins to clear, revealing a glittering steel chamber beyond and a tall, thinfaced figure

Spoiler: looking back.

Show

Behind him, covered by a mottled grey sheet, is what looks like a



on some sort of frame raised upright for inspection. Above them in the air, a pair of white enamelled skulls, encrusted with a variety of brass instruments and long hypo needles, hover expectantly.

[Novabomb]

Kelvin Treval reporting as ordered sir.

[Daishain]

"Nihilius Tarake, though you must know this already. For what purpose do you commandeer an anointed of the omnissiah?"

[Dazhbug]

Tsoa merely grunts, crouching down into a relaxed pose a half step behind and to the side of the others. He fingers a charm and smirks.

[ribblle]

Spoiler

Show

Static rattles from a small grill set into the ceiling. Slowly it crystallizes.

“Greetings Acolytes, I am Medicae-Interrogator Sand and you are the new blood, are you not? Worthy additions to our holy war? Well we shall see,

Spoiler: far be it from me

Show

to doubt my betters’ judgement, eh?

Well to the matter at hand. I represent the Holy Ordos of the Imperial Inquisition that we all serve. Our masters have called you here to assist us in the investigation of a matter of interest that has recently and unexpectedly come to light.

Oh, yes, for your information, you are now in the depths of the Templum Mori, the house of the dead where the Lords Prefecta Mortem hold court and the fallen and the lost of the great city are named and counted. It will not surprise you then to know you are here to view a corpse, I doubt it will be your first, but it is, shall we say, quite singular!”

Sand strolls over to the dissected and eviscerated body of an adult human. As he continues to talk, the servoskulls dip and bob out of sight, reappearing with messy looking organic specimens in tests tubes and jars, clutched in dextrous brass callipers; each is displayed in turn for your edification.

“Now if you will kindly attend and pay heed, I will take questions afterward.

The body has been positively identified as that of one Saul Arbest, male, 23 years of age, hive worker, unskilled labourer certified. Formerly of the Tantalus Indenture, registered habitation: chamber 6/23 stack 717# Coscarla Division, southern zone, Hive Sibelius.

Subject found dead on the midhive transit rail three days ago as the car returned to the main depot. Preliminary examination at the scene suggested death by drug overdose. Post mortem performed by the biologis forensic, however revealed certain anomalies that necessitated our involvement.

The cause of death was in fact total systemic failure brought on by tissue rejection of an implanted synthetic graft organ. Said organ destroyed his central nervous system while attempting to overcome the immune response.

In short this…”

A servo skull displays a sample jar containing a ten centimetre long whitish cord of waving glassy tendrils, still in motion, still

Spoiler: alive.

Show

“…crushed the life out of him from the inside.

What’s it for? Unknown, but my opinion would be, in a word, ‘control’—neural and synaptic override, perhaps worse.

There were other grafts and surgery of a less singular kind also; one lung replaced by a concealed storage cavity, possibly for his use as a courier. Also,

Spoiler: one optic nerve removed,

Show

Spoiler: skin flayed from his stomach,

Show

I’ve no idea why. His system’s awash with alchemic traces, clotting agents, panimmune and the like.

“The surgery was expert, but by the lesions and tissue stresses, I doubt any care was given to whether or not it was painless. In fact, by the damage to his

Spoiler: vocal cords,

Show

my guess was that he probably screamed as long as he was able to.

“But this little monster is what concerns us. Oh, you don’t need to know the genelore or the Omnissian edict, just that this is not only illegal, it is forbidden, it is

Spoiler: heresy.

Show

Merely tampering with this kind of dark tech is enough to warrant a death sentence from the Holy Ordos, the Arbites or the Mechanicus.

“And I’m sure that you, as well as I, are wondering how such a rare and vile thing ended up wrapped round the spine of

Spoiler

Show

from the dusty end of the stacks.

“The man has

Spoiler: no prior criminal record,

Show

he was rendered invalid by indenture—laid off if you will, some sixty days ago now and was reported missing thirty-two days ago by his sister, one Lili Arbest, resident of the same habstack. More than enough time to get himself into all sorts of trouble, I’m sure you’ll agree. These grafts are no more than eight or ten days old at most. We have nothing else on him.

“This is to be a shadow investigation, no open official involvement and no notification of the local authorities, and no one knows he’s here either. Coscarla’s down hive, so a covert approach will draw far less attention than a boot through the door, and be far less likely to kill any leads to our heretic.

“Find out why and where if you can, better yet, find out how. Best of all, find out who is responsible. Go with the grace of the
God-Emperor, oh and additional samples would be a blessing if you can procure them.”

[Novabomb]

Kelvin Treval

Sir, if this is heresy, And not for a moment do I doubt it is, shouldn't we destroy anything we find sir?

[ribblle]

"We need to know what we're fighting soldier. This could just be the start of their sins."

[Daishain]

"Hmph, sloppy work, to leave obvious traces like this. They should have set this thing to immolate itself and the body before you got your hands on it."

"Initial impressions, someone is coercing pathetic nobodies into service, then eliminating them once their usefulness is past."

"Hmm, you will need someone of my skills to unravel the secrets behind their tech, perhaps my presence is not entirely a waste."

"I would begin by suspecting that anyone in that area, high or low, could be involved, willingly or otherwise. We will need pretense, some other excuse for poking about and asking questions. Do you have anything else connected to that region we could use in this regard?"

[ribblle]

Sand points to your left.



"The red ones."

The crates crack open. Within you

Spoiler: find

Show

"There's one for each of you. You'll find a few items in the pockets. Here's the rundown.

Everybody wears these awful overcoats in the lower hive. You'll blend in, and they're tougher then you'd think. (Worth 1 armour point).

Spoiler: Those coins

Show

are pass tokens for the Coscarla division, your subway card and passport in one. And

Spoiler: that,

Show

is your cover. According to these cognomen you work for the Coblast Assay, a not-so-little operation we've been fronting. Their speciality is tech salvage and “manpower services”, which oddly enough entitles you to arms for self defence. Officially you're bonded agents, but the word you'll hear is regulators.

Now, i'm happy to say that thanks to signal interference in the lower hive, vox traffic is almost impossible over any real distance, or up and down at that. The wire station is your only option, but i've arranged something to keep you in touch with each other at least. These

Spoiler: hand voxes

Show

use a private encrypted channel, and are good up to a few kilometres.

Sadly, this

Spoiler: "technology"

Show

is the norm down there. These lamps will illuminate about three metres, and if you arrange the shutters just so a six metre focused beam. For Mr Tarake, i have something a little more sophisticated in mind. The

Spoiler: dataslate

Show

carries basic copies of the information i've briefed you on, a series of

Spoiler: maps

Show

and

Spoiler: data

Show

about the Coscarla and - pretty sparse - files on the

Spoiler: Arbasts.

Show

It also has basic short range audio and visual recording and playback functions. The code is 74390, anything else and it will be wiped clean.

You're also the best excuse for a doctor in this trio, so please do me a favour and take some samples.

Spoiler: The bioauspex

Show

will triangulate any anomalous human tissue; anything within a metre or so and the indicator will flash red and start whining, louder as you grow closer. I want my mono scalpel back, so take care. (1d5–1 plus the wielder’s Strength Bonus (SB) in Damage and ignores the first 2 Armour Points (AP) of the target).

Finally.

Spoiler: Save some for bribes,

Show

there's a 120 thrones in there.

If there are no more questions, Coscarla is a few hours away by rail and i'm sure you'll be in touch." Sand turns away and the glass slowly begins to tint.

"Your first mission is a lot like a tarot. Play the right cards."

[Dazhbug]

Tsoa shoulders forward a step, head cocked to one side. "Head-snatchers are tricky business" he rumbles upward. There's a slight pause, but he continues onward with the air of a man condemned in either case. "How know we that you speak for yourself?"

There's an awkward beat, before the large man catches himself and inclines his head respectfully. "Abak- hmmm, sir."

[ribblle]

"You? You can't. He might." An incline of the head towards Nihilus. "Tell me Skitarri, does that glowy green wand look broken? No? Is it glowing red? No as well. That's as certain as you'll ever be. The finer points of Gothic are of course, yours to teach." A glance to Kelvin. Sand checks his well-appointed watch.

[Novabomb]

Kelvin Treval

Yes Sir.

Help me carry this feral, and I will begin your instruction in the finer points of the Emperors divine speach.

[Dazhbug]

Tsoa nods and hefts the crate, cords of muscle pulling taught through his arms and shoulders. Throwing it over his shoulder, he grins at the (seemingly more personable) guardsman.

"I carry, you talk."

[Novabomb]

First, what is your name. I am Kelvin. (Puts a hand out)

[Daishain]

"Before we go, might I attempt to speak with that implant? If its spirit proves cooperative, we could learn much."

[Dazhbug]

"I am... Tikoloshe."

Spoiler: Why showing your arm? You make... hmmm, easy to attack, yes?

Show

[Novabomb]

Kelvin

Sorta, it shows you have no weapons. The handshake is a traditional trust affirming action. Since we are now squadmates, it seemed reasonable to attempt.

[ribblle]

"Emperor. You do not have the time, the skill, the clearance or the need to re-examine my findings." Sand walks away.

The Twilight City

You all pile into a rickety rail car, the only relic still bothering with Coscarla, surrounded by sad-faced clerks, grubby back door salesman and others surely looking forward to a trip down hive. Eyes flicker to the guns sprouting from your shoulders, and you sense they'd have shuffled away if there was any room. There soon is.

An hour passes; you switch line after line, and passengers bleed away. An unctuous looking official sidles through the crowd, examines your identification and indiscreetly adds your names to a thick binder. Once he notices the guns he happily underlines them.

Over the next 2 hours you change yet more rails and into increasingly dilapidated and vandalised cars - your pass tokens and cognomen are oily with the sweat of all the palms that have held them up to the fading light.

You pass from the relatively open spaces and clean air of the government district, down and across whole hive levels, past collapsed finery and the fallen architectural splendours of the “good of olden days” and through vast steel sky vaults filled with endless rows of habstacks and kilometre after kilometre of thunderous

Spoiler: manufactora.

Show

The further you go

the more depressed, ill maintained and decayed things become; these are the lower stretches of the mid hive, the outer circle beyond which no transit rails run and no law holds sway. Long stretches of the journey are spent in the stale tainted air of the wormholelike

Spoiler: tunnels

Show

within the Hive’s thick supporting bones and in the nameless black voids of deserted spaces between, the car’s lights flicker and fail regularly.

Alone in a single car, now deserted but for your group, the rattling carriage breaks into another vast and dilapidated habvault and begins to slow. You look out upon a vista of vacant and decayed buildings in a worse state than any that you have seen up until now, stretching beyond sight into a dark horizon beyond.

The rail car shudders to a stop and the doors open onto a wide, raised platform devoid of passengers save for a single huddled figure dressed in rags. The figure quickly

Spoiler: bundles

Show

themselves onboard, flashing a pass to the door mechanism with unseemly haste and takes up a seat as far from your group as possible. Angry yells soon

Spoiler: follow,

Show

and the kid springs into the next carriage. Seconds later a dull, crackling servitor intones:

“Coscarla Southern Railhead. Passengers to Coscarla to disembark. This conveyance will depart in…” The rest is lost in a howl of static.

This is Coscarla and you have arrived.

[Daishain]

The surprisingly human face that had previously been hidden behind Nihilius' mask is scowling, and his demeanor does not improve as they are ferried to the cesspool of the hive.

He spends some time on the rail inspecting the bioauspex and double checking its settings (1d100)[74]

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Okay, so if I have this right, I have Tech Use trained, so I must roll under 46 (my Int) if there are no modifiers. I have Electrograft Use, so can add 10 to that if I can find a data point. Edit: apparently the emperor doesn't favor my actions today

[ribblle]

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Throwing in the +30 "easy bonus"

You could set this to detect life forms, take medical readings, maybe even a clumsy retinal scanner. Some ripoff of a lathe model by the looks of it.

As the doors slide open for you two

Spoiler: gangers

Show

push past, scrambling over seats in pursuit of the kid.