Sea of Stars - IC

[Haval]

Anika will try to look impassive as she fiddled with the auspex.

Was the ship corrupted? Perhaps, but Pytho couldn't see anything, and Anika would thus prefer to be sure before they scuttled it. Whatever else was going on here she was not sure how much they could find out remotely. Although boarding an underpowered and mostly depressurised wreck would not be her first choice, she wouldn't want anyone else to go in her stead. But she could not fault Macharius' reasoning either.

[Destro_Yersul]

Ravia prepared twelve servitors, which dutifully filed in to an Arvus and were sent off to explore the wreck. Each was equipped with a vox feed and full audiovisual sensor arrays. The Arvus was piloted by another servitor, since it was a simple shuttle mission back and forth, and none of the human pilots had exactly wanted to volunteer. They watched it on the auspex as it vectored in to the wreck, settling in one of the great rifts in the hull to disgorge its cargo before returning.

One by one, the servitors shuffled through the ship. Their journey was recorded on grainy pict-feeds, broadcast back to the Sting through a relay the shuttle had dropped off. Two had been dispatched to the bridge, but both of them got lost almost immediately, wandering through empty halls and stomping into rooms long abandoned. Everywhere they found evidence of an ancient battle, fought long ago. The walls were pocked and scarred by weapons fire, the floors littered with forgotten equipment. Everything organic had long since turned to dust, at least in the parts of the ship that still had air. The air that existed was by no means breathable, fouled without a proper recycling system to sustain it. Fortunately, the servitors did not need to breathe.

Both of the drones sent to check on the gellar fields eventually found their way there. The old generators were in remarkably good repair, despite having operated for ages. A small handful of servitors were present, engaged in maintenance tasks. One was trying to apply sacred oils, entirely unaware that its dispensor had run dry. The rest plodded about unconcerned, or sat idle in charging stations. The hatches that led to the generator chamber bore witness to heavy fighting, but here at least it seemed the defenders had prevailed. Though who, or what, they had been fighting against was unclear. Time eroded the bones of the faithful and heretic alike.

The servitors sent to check on the plasma drives were foiled, but not because they got lost; the chamber where the vast generators had once sat was gone, torn open to void. Conduits ended in jagged ruin, and a mess of cables drifted in a tangle. Ravia had done her job well, though, and rather than pitching themselves into space the servitors turned about and went searching for the auxiliary banks. Here, as with the gellar fields, they found things in good repair. Undoubtedly the maze-like nature of the ship had helped preserve the towering capacitor arrays and power plants, which were buried deep within the substructure. Fuel for the great generators had nearly run dry, the giant coils still producing power out of the dregs that remained.

Of the two that went looking for the Pride's missing captain, only one made it. The first tried to head down a darkened corridor, the feeds struggling to filter through the darkness. The lights in this section of the ship were dead, the blackness complete. There was a sudden lurch as the machine missed its footing, and a thud as it landed three decks down. The last image from its picter was blood-spattered deckplates, lit by the sickly green of the servitor's optics, before it flickered and died. The other was more fortunate, winding its way through to the teleportarium. The glow of a work lamp betrayed the position of the captain and his crew - there were five of them in all, slumped to the ground in their void suits. The suits were undamaged, their breath misting the interior of their transparent faceplates. They appeared asleep.

The remaining four servitors had mixed success. Navigating the winding corridors of the ship would have been difficult even if it weren't a half-airless hulk, but in its current state the challenge was greatly increased. One of the servitors wandered for hours without finding anything more than old shrines to the omnissiah, scattered about in forgotten corners. Another suffered a similar fate to the seventh, ending its mechanical life when the decking beneath it tore free with a screech of tormented metal. The other two had better luck, one wandering into the powered sections of the wreck. The fighting seemed to have been lighter here, and they got several good images of barracks and mess halls that looked servicable, if in need of some polish and new fittings. The background hum of old machinery followed the servitor around as it explored the various crew areas, before linking up with the last servitor just as it made perhaps the most significant discovery: following a trail of ancient stains on the decking, the two servitors happened upon a suit of ruined power armour.

The armour was bare of paint, the iron-grey ceramite pitted and scored in a dozen places. The trim on the armoured plates was hammered gold, held in place by tarnished brass rivets. It was sitting on the deck, leaning against the wall where its owner had died. One gauntlet still held a massive boltgun, its casing painted with black and yellow hazard stripes. The same design was repeated on one of the ovoid kneepads, and the left shoulderpad bore a grinning skull device. The helmet looked like a knight's helmet, such as might be seen on a feudal world: a heavy reinforced brow ridge, a single narrow vision slit, its lens cracked and broken, and an angular front plate to deflect hits. Here at last was a hint towards who the occupants of the ship had been fighting.

[Haval]

'Traitor Legionary' Anika mutters. She feels sick. This was like seeing a monster from a storybook come to life.

Recovering, she will try to remember what she could from the Apocrypha of Skaros. 'Judging by the iconography, that was a member of the Legio Astartes, specifically the 4th, the Iron Warriors. They were amongst those who spat on their oaths to the Emperor. I take it they were the ones that destroyed the ship. That armour is an antique, and would be a priceless relic of the Astartes if anyone else was wearing it. As it is I'm not sure if it's even safe for us to go near it.'

Then there was the other thing, 'And while I'm hardly knowledgable about these things, judging by the state of the armour, this one may have died early in the Heresy War. That would mean that there is a possibility that this ship was from the time of the Great Crusade.'

[PotatoGolem]

Macharius pales briefly. A traitor legionary. A Fallen Angel. Heresy and blasphemy made flesh to war upon the righteous. He shakes himself together Mustn't let the crew see weakness. They'll look to their leader for inspiration.

By the Golden Throne! A Traitor Astartes. This ship is ill-omened indeed, floating in the void since the days of that foulest of heresies. A priceless treasure, tarnished by an inconceivable vileness. No wonder the Navy lost- what can mere men do against such foes?

And what sorcery is this, that the scavenger crew have fallen asleep? I doubt that they'd settle down for a nap in a space hulk. Magos, have the servitors attempt to rouse the captain and crew. I would know what's happened to them

[Destro_Yersul]

Ravia had limited ability to issue orders to the servitor remotely. The machines had been programmed for exploration, not to handle the task of trying to wake someone up. It nudged the captain a few times, failing to successfully rouse him. It tried to request assistance from the other servitors, but couldn't reach them through the many layers of decking and armour. Eventually it settled on retrieval, simply picking up the unconscious men and hauling them back up to the room they'd entered from. The servitor could only really carry one at a time, and so the work took it several trips. On the last trip, it took a wrong turn, quickly vanishing down the twisting corridors. The last of the salvage crew was left in the Teleportarium, destined to go unrecovered by the plodding machine. The remaining servitors, with typical robotic unconcern for their newly missing fellows, awaited retrieval from the shuttle with their charges.

Of the twelve servitors dispatched to explore the hulk, only six managed to find their way back. They loaded the salvage team onto the shuttle, and prepared to return to the Sting. Halfway there, the captain and his men started to wake up.

[Haval]

What was wrong with the Pride's crewmen that they should lose consciousness but somehow still be alive. Were their suits leaking, or was it something else?

Seeing that they seemed to waking up in the shuttle, Anika will speak to them directly over the vox. 'Captain, this is the House Absalom vessel Manticore's Sting. Your people lost contact with you, and you seemed to be in some difficulty, so we chose to pull you out of there. Can you tell us what happened?'

[Destro_Yersul]

"What? Where... nng" The captain sat up to find himself surrounded by servitors and still in his voidsuit. "We entered the ship. Made our way to... teleportarium. Got tired. I was.. dreaming, I think. There was a battle, and the ship was getting hit hard. We were aboard the wreck, me and my crew, but it wasn't wrecked. It was still active, fighting. Not sure who."

[rax]

"You're in luck, Captain, we have a lead on that! Our servitors found a dead traitor Astartes further in," Hannabel interrupts cheerily. "Judging from the armour, our antiquities expert thinks he may have been laying about since the Great Crusade, so him and his lot are probably what the old girl was fighting when she went down for the count."

[Haval]

'The battle was still going on?' So memories of the ship's death lingered on in some fashion. 'We found you unconscious. Do you require a medic?'

She will briefly mute their side of the call to talk to the others without being overheard. 'The state we found them in. I imagine living through the echo of an ancient battle might have quite the impact if you aren't expecting it. Otherwise, if they felt the ship being attacked, they might just have been knocked about a bit. We might want to have Pytho take a look at them on general principles.'

[Destro_Yersul]

"Great Crusade? She's that old? Suppose I should have guessed... Astartes? Throne of Terra." There was a moment of silence as the captain evaluated his position. "I think we're fine. We have enough air left in the suits, no leaks. I'm missing a man, though. There should have been five of us."

[PotatoGolem]

Macharius raises an eyebrow at the Captain's explanation. He speaks into a command-crew-only vox to not alert the Pride or the salvage team. And to shield his own crew from the awful knowledge of Chaos.

Docking crew, hold the shuttle in a quarantine bay on the Talon. Ravia, have the shuttle servitor slow their approach to give us time to prepare. Astropath Pythonissam, Father Demetrius, transit to the Talon to examine the salvage crew for possible warp taint. Talon, have your Navigator Secundus join them. It appears they may have been exposed to Warp influences, and we cannot risk corruption spreading to our crews.

[Haval]

That approach felt right. The Pride's crew deserved a chance. If it was that easy for the warp to corrupt someone then humanity was in more trouble then most realised. Anyone who fought the Archenemy would only be another potential vector for it's influence.

To Macharius over the command vox, 'What of the wreck? If we cannot get anything useful out of it we could record it's
co-ordinates and pass them on. The Navy or the Mechanicus might be interested.' So might the Inquisition for that matter.

"There should have been five of us."

No reason to lie about that. 'Our servitors were unable to get close enough to bring them out. Are you able to contact them?'

[Destro_Yersul]

"Not if they're still asleep, like we were. I can vox them, but that's it."

The shuttle vectored in to the Talon, landing in a disused bay near the keel. Pytho, Father Demetrius, and the Talon's navigator met it there. The cleric had with him a copy of the Litanies of Faith, and ended up not doing very much. As the crew disembarked, he explained where they were, and why. Pytho examined each, peering sightlessly at them and muttering to himself. He reported back that he couldn't sense any sorcery, they hadn't the stink of chaos on them. Certainly none of them were psykers, and probably hadn't been affected by one recently. The navigator's report was more interesting.

"The warp clings to them faintly," she told Macharius and the other officers. "But it's not an active presence. It's... an echo, likely of trauma caused by the deaths of so many aboard the wreck. Part of that ship is still fighting its last battle. The crew experienced a residual psychoactive phenomena as a result of that echo, and it's almost certain the same would occur to others who boarded. It didn't happen to the servitors because they're stupid blind machines. It also shouldn't have any lasting effects. Once you leave the ship, it vanishes in a few hours. Almost exactly like a dream. Of course, if you want to use the ship for anything, you'll need to figure out what to do about it."

[Leon]

++Very interesting, the empyrean clings to them and retains a echo of the ships last battle. This is a intriguing topic that is worthy of further study if the time is allotted, maybe not here but as much data as i can gather will be inloaded to the laboratory++

[rax]

"Could we rig something to block out the echo? I mean, I fought warp-cursed traitors many a time in the Navy and this here" - Hannabel taps her helm - "saved my noggin more than once when there were mindbenders among them. Maybe Magos Ravia can make us something similar?"

[Haval]

'Or at least find some way to block it out enough so that no one loses consciousness.' Anika mutters. If there was some echo of an ancient battle aboard the wreck, part of her wanted to witness it rather than block it out entirely.

Still, perhaps something solid could still be recovered.

Spoiler: ooc

Show

Tech-Use to make Magneto's helmet?

[Destro_Yersul]

"It would help," the Navigator allowed. "Wards, psy-blocking helmets like yours. A blank, if you could stand to be around them. The real problem is going to be finding a long-term solution. If we knew more about the last battle and how it ended, we'd be better equipped to come up with strategies other than simple avoidance. Those helmets are expensive; you don't want to have to outfit an entire crew with them."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

It would be Trade (Armourer), not Tech-Use. You'd also need the specific special materials to make it.

[PotatoGolem]

Macharius claps his hands. Splendid, splendid! We shall of course sally forth and see what we can learn then. If there's no chance of corruption, we'd be derelict in our duty as the Emperor's emissaries to shrink back. Master Pytho, can you or any of our other astropaths shield our minds to stop us from going comatose? Magos Ravia, your studies are of course appreciated, as is your diligence in data-gathering. If you can devise a method of shielding us as well I'd be most appreciative. Do we have any blanks in the crew that could help? Although a thought arises: perhaps by immersing ourselves in the past for short periods of time, we could learn about what happened. That way, we'd be able to come up with a long-term solution

He leans over and speaks into the ship-to-ship vox. Torgan's Pride and salvage team, this is Lord-Commander Macharius Absalom. The salvage team has been cleared of warp influences. However, the ship is not safe to approach- it bedevils the mind and benumbs the senses, as the salvage team found. As Saint Eustantine said, a moment of laxity spawns a lifetime of heresy. As such, only the most strongly shielded by their faith in the God-Emperor and His holy works and aided by his glorious astropaths transcendant should approach it. I myself will lead a team of my finest crew to recover your missing comrade and get to the bottom of this. Captain, the shuttle will return you to the Pride along with our technomats to attempt repairs.

[Destro_Yersul]

Pytho confirmed he would be able to place the guiding light of the Emperor upon them, strengthening their minds against assault. It would not be a perfect defense, but it would increase their odds. Unfortunately, finding a blank would be considerably harder. Such individuals are exceptionally rare, and even with the large crew pool to draw from there was no guarantee they'd find one. The preparations to go over to the wreck, as such, were not lengthy. The captain and his crew were transferred back to the Pride with a crew of techpriests to start work on the damaged drive. Pytho intoned a prayer, a corona of golden light briefly surrounding the Aquila pendant he was wearing. The weight of the world seemed to lift, as though the hand of the Emperor himself was guiding them along their path. The shuttle launched.

Inside the passenger compartment, it was hard to see the wreck looming larger as they approached, but they could feel it out there. It was huge, an ancient relic of humanity's distant past, a piece of history made real. Once, it had fought the true Enemy. Now it was a tragic figure, drifting alone through the vastness of space, its only company the ghosts of the battle that had seen it nearly slain.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

If you have anything you want to do prior to boarding the wreck, you can do it in a time-skip. Just tag the relevant parts of your post with (then) and (now) or something similar, so I know what's referring to what. Also, I need a WP test from everyone. If you have anything that protects against psychic powers, like Hannabel's helmet, that applies. You also all get +10 from Pytho's power. Do you want to bring along anyone other than the PCs on this mission? If you do, they'll need rolls as well. Use the Crew rating unless otherwise specified. Anything with the Machine trait does not need to test.

Here's the test for Pytho, so I don't forget: (1d100)[93]

[Haval]

Then

Anika will prepare in the usual way that she prepares for going into somewhere that might be dangerous. She will recover all of her weapons and armour from her quarters and will pick up a voidsuit from the Sting's eqiupment stores. Perhaps it wouldn't be enough for the possibility of moving in vacuum, but better to be prepared anyway.

She will forgo any mental preparation. The Navigator's verdict had been comforting and, in her grandfather's words, the Emperor helps those who help themselves. It had always worked for her so far.

[PotatoGolem]

THEN

Macharius prepares for boarding the Hulk by retiring to the officers' chapel to pray. He spends a good deal of time in prayer, meditating on the power and glory of the God-Emperor and his exalted place in His glorious plans. By His will, Macharius will vanquish the remnants of the Enemy. What the Emperor wills, Macharius will achieve.

After praying, he dons his armor, jump-pack, and armaments, secure in the Emperor's guidance.

NOW

Macharius sits in the shuttle, one hand resting on his Rosarius. He's flanked by a cadre of servitors he brought along to carry out artifacts or crew members who get overwhelmed.

[rax]

THEN
Eager to get to exploring, Hannabel stops by her quarters to pick up her personal equipment, then drops by the ship's stores to pick up a pair of glow-globes, extra air canisters for her helmet rebreather, and clip harness in case climbing becomes necessary.

By the time Lord Commander Absalom arrives, she's already waiting in the shuttle.

NOW
Hannabel stares out of the shuttle's porthole, gazing in wonder and anticipation at the ancient warship.

[Destro_Yersul]

The 'bay' that the shuttle landed in was the same one where it had set down the servitors not long ago. It hadn't originally been a bay, but the shattered armour had opened it to void just the same. This section of the ship still had power to the deck plating, at least, and so they didn't have to worry about floating away. There would be sections of the ship that were undoubtedly dark. When they stepped off the shuttle, a creeping sense of unease stole its way over them. Most were able to shake it off without too much trouble. The weight of years on this place was immense, its last battle having taken place so long ago that the bodies of its slain had crumbled away, even their bones turned to dust by the ceaseless grind of time. Their footsteps echoed mutely through the decking, communication with each other only possible via voxlink in the hard vacuum of the room. Pressing on a short distance into the ship, their flashlights and lumen-globes playing over the walls, was a much different experience than watching the servitors do it over grainy video. It was more real, somehow, the darkness and quiet more oppressive.

Turning down one corridor, Hannabel's boot hit something that skittered away with a metallic tinkling sound. It was a shell casing, the floor here littered with them. The walls were covered in impact marks. The servitors had barely seen any of the ship in their search for its primary components and the missing salvage crew, and vast sections of it were still up for exploration. This area appeared to be part of a small munitions locker for the crew, stenciled signage over a nearby door proclaiming the room to be 'armoury C-5.' A glance inside revealed empty weapon racks and a bank of personal lockers, many of the doors hanging loose or broken off entirely. The sigil of the Imperial Navy was visible on a plate on the floor, which had fallen from where it had been hastily bolted to the wall. Underneath was a different sigil, one which Anika recognised from the Imperium's history; the Imperialis Auxilia, split into the Guard and Navy after the Great Heresy.

Spoiler: Anika Only

Show

As the group left the room, Anika thought she heard someone call her name. Looking back, the place was as deserted as ever, but... hadn't the weapon racks been empty a moment ago? They were full now, rows of shotguns sitting oiled and ready for use. As it should be, really. The sign of the Imperial Navy on the wall might take some getting used to, but it had been a necessary move. Severing the ties between the Guard and the Fleet would make it harder for any one person to sieze power. Who had called her, though? Turning away again, she saw that the group had pulled ahead, and she had to hurry to catch up.

Continuing on, Pytho pointed out a few shrines to the God-Emperor that had been erected against the corridor walls. They were covered in melted wax from candles, and affixed with the stubs of purity seals, but the organic parchment was long gone. One such shrine had its prayer to the Emperor engraved on the wall, still readable. It was a variant of the voidfarer's catechism, which seemed appropriate given the location. At each of these shrines, the Astropath stopped to offer a brief prayer.

Spoiler: Macharius Only

Show

At each of these stops, Pytho seemed to be going a little more slowly. The expression on his face was hard to read, especially with no eyes, but it looked as though something was bothering him. Of course he was unlikely to ever complain, and if it was something unsafe Macharius was sure he'd have spoken up. Still, it was unusual.

A few meters on from the last shrine, the group reached a junction. The room they were in was octagonal, and branched off in four directions other than the one they'd entered through. None of the routes were labelled, and they hadn't seen any effort to post such niceties as a map. Their options were each of the other three cardinal directions, and a lift platform that led to the deck above. The lift was listing badly, nearly broken off the teethed track that its simple gear drive used to ascend, and was clearly inoperable. If they wanted to climb, though, it didn't look like it would be too hard.

[Destro_Yersul]

Climbing proved not very hard at all for those wearing the Selenite pattern voidsuits. The old gearlift only travelled between three floors, and this one was the bottom. Getting up to the top was a simple matter of using the suit's integral grapple system and, once those with were at the top, using it to pull up those without. This ship had probably been built to a standard code, which meant they had a rough idea of where the bridge should be, but it was proving difficult to actually find. The interior was mazelike, dark corridors made cramped by ancient pipes and conduits. They did, however, have a fairly significant piece of luck. The ship featured a transit conduit to carry munitions from the stores to the weapons. They found a service hatch leading to the conduit, and emerged into a room where there was actually some room to breathe, so to speak.

The passage was large enough for automated servitor-trams carrying macrocannon-shell sized plasma canisters, which made it plenty spacious to walk around in. Their lamp packs played over the vaulted ceiling, the regular holes leading to servo-skull transit tubes. Up here there were actually labels, and they found the one leading to the bridge and followed it. When they reached the branching off point, though, they encountered a problem.

The bulkhead sealing off access to the bridge was visible, trapped behind a collapsed auto-tram. A badly decayed servitor, attached to the tram at the waist, was clearly no longer operable. What was worse, the tram had been carrying a load when it failed, huge canisters of volatile plasma fuel scattered across the deck. Each was massive, mean to be shifted by loaders rather than men. Some were still held in place on the tram, having not yet broken the straps tying them down. There'd be a way around, this wasn't the only access point to the bridge, but finding another route would mean backtracking, and that would waste time. The rebreathers on their voidsuits were rated for twelve hours - a long time, but they'd already spent one hour getting to here.

[Haval]

After the climb up the broken lift Anika has been moving slightly ahead of the others. She is confident that she can get to the bridge eventually even with the maze-like layout of the ship's interior. The broken tram gives her pause though.

Over the microbead, 'I suspect we're lucky this didn't spill everywhere and damage the bridge.' She will look around for any sign of a maintenance hatch. It probably wouldn't be enough to let them bypass the wreckage to get straight to the bridge. That would be a hole in the ship's defences after all. But it might be enough to give them a shortcut to another part of the ship so that they could come at the bridge from another direction.

There was always the broken tramway as well.

[PotatoGolem]

Macharius claps Pytho on the back. Pythonissam, my good man, what's the matter? You look a bit peaky, what. Is there any Warp influence about?

He looks at the blockage up ahead. Decidedly inconvenient, that. Shuttle, Sting, can you use our transmission signal to find where we are in the ship? If we can have them locate us now as we're by the bridge, perhaps they can direct us back towards the bridge as we backtrack so we don't lose our bearings.

[rax]

Hannabel's eyes linger on the bulkhead while the others speak. "Magos Ravia, do you think you can squeeze past those canisters and open the way? Surely a locked bulkhead is no match for you?"

[Leon]

Then

Getting ready to explore a ancient warship is not something an Adept of the Machine Cult has an occurrence to do everyday. The ship had some wondrous Void exploration gear but they were not designed for someone with extra limbs so they had to be disconnected and less useful related tools taken instead, several spare dataslates to inload information from Skull for backup and noteworthy finds, spare roles of duraweave conduit tape in case of suit leaks. While it would be uncomfortable for the duration Ravia retracted her claws as far as possible and then bound the tines carefully in flakweave and mentally subdued her neural connection to them for safety. Eschewing her Hellgun as another bulky item that would be a pain to make work with the Selenite she picked up ship munitions Lasgun from the armory.

Shuttle

The trip across was something else, to fall into the shadow of such an ancient warship that had died fighting the Enemy so very long ago.

Now

++I can endevour to do so, although with such an old vessel nothing is certain++

[Destro_Yersul]

There were maintenance hatches nearby, but nothing that looked like it was designed to be used by people wearing full voidsuits. There was also no indiciation any of them actually led to the bridge. With the atmosphere toxic at best and nonexistant at worst, risking a suit tear by trying to crawl around in the ductwork seemed like a losing proposition. Getting up to the tramway might be an option, though.

Pytho shook his head. "Slight headache, sir. I don't think it's anything to worry about."

The Sting was quick to respond. "We've got you in one of the fore sections. There's some interference, but we're trying to compensate. Still got that sensor ghost on the scopes. I think we can pinpoint the location and lead you back."

The bulkhead, for its part, looked operable. There was a control shrine next to it, the lights dimly lit. Getting to it would be the main problem; the fallen tram was in one big piece, and there was very little room to get behind it.

[Haval]

Perhaps backtracking would not be that inconvenient, but on the other hand they probably shouldn't waste the air if they could help it.

After getting a closer look at the wreckage, Anika is going to attempt to climb up into the tramway to get a look around.

Spoiler: ooc

Show

If there's no sign that climbing the wrecakage might be dangerous, will use the grapnel on the Selenite to get a look up there. Climb is at basic so probably difficult without the suit.

Climb roll if needed vs. Str 30 /2 - TN 15
(1d100)[16]

Related, rolling Awareness.
vs. Per 38
(1d100)[92]

Edit - almost made it