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Drifting over a dead world between Footfall and The Hermitage...
The Manus Ultionus drifts lazily over the barren surface of a dead, featureless world of no import orbiting a dying red star, floating in the shadow of the light cruiser Octiva Glorosa. It has been here for several days, its crew anxious and somewhat nervous.
Crew
Whether you are old Loyalists or newly hired experts, you have all joined the cause to bring glory and fame back to the von Dornenwalde, a Trader Dynasty famed since it's beginnings when the Calixis Sector was the Calixis Expanse. Lady Lumis Octiva has had you gather onboard the Manus Ultionus, assuring you that this goal will soon be reached, because she has found the lost heir to the von Dornenwalde warrant, Ignacio Hyarta von Dornenwalde.
You have seen Ignacio infrequently since he was brought in sealed in a stasis chamber at the beginning of the week, but now you and most of the crew are clustered together in the main chapel of the ship, having been told that your wait will soon be over.
Ignacio
You remember being shot in the chest twice and then kicked-hard. And then you woke up, cold, in pain, and strapped to a table, with a medical servitor wrists-deep in your torso while a tech-priest watched.
Naturally, you were surprised, confused, and a tad angry.
Over the last few days while your wounds were treated, you have been introduced to Gaius Silvanus, First Officer Brutus, a Lady Lumis Octiva, and Scarlet Deatrix, and what happened explained to you. Ten years ago, your younger brother Altheus took power in a rapid and bloody coup, and since then has almost ruined your family. Skilled crews have been replaced with slaves and servitors, old allies in House Xan'tai and the Adeptus Mechanicus have been rebuffed, fortunes have been spent and sold to feed his greed, promises have been broken, and worst of all, your library has been sold and your old voidship relegated to pointless scouting activities. With some outside help, a group of Loyalists has gathered together to help you restore the dynasty to its former glory, and a roster of your current crew-both old servants and newer members-read out to you.
Lady Octiva has promised her aid in taking back your dynasty, but only provided you are willing to sign a great deal of it over to her afterwards. Seeing the sorry state Altheus has left your family warrant in and knowing you'd need all the aid you could get, you bedgrudgingly agreed. She's given you a list of your brother's intermediaries on Footfall and Port Wander, people who would know more about his business both public and clandestine, and has now retired to the Octiva Glorosa and is preparing to leave.
Now that you've recovered from your wounds somewhat, you need to make an appearance before your crew and decide what to do next. The most important members of the crew have gathered in the main chapel of your craft, and video and audio of the event are being broadcasted all over the ship. Gaius and the ship's head missionary Clesius Alcato wait behind the red velvet curtains with you, ready to present you to the crew. Your side still hurts where ribs have had to be replaced and flesh repaired, but it's now or never to reveal yourself and your plans...
__________________
TechnoScrabble forced me to do it I swear. :P
The last few days have been stressful, confusing, and infuriating for Ignacio. Learning what his brother did, learning that his research coffers and his library are gone and his other siblings dead or missing, and learning about all the events of the past ten years he had missed. His nice clothes had been ruined by the autogun rounds he had taken to the chest, and his hat was missing and presumably long gone.
And his ship! His beautiful, beautiful Tunguska! A fine voidcraft, suitable for war or exploration, delegated to scouting duties! Despicable!
Rage had built up in Ignacio's chest for the past few days, occasionally making him sweat in the heat of his fury, and the revenge he was contemplating seemed sweeter and sweeter by the moment.
Of course, this Lady Octiva woman could not be trusted, but he would give in to her demands. For now. When the time came, something would have to be done about her.
Having donned his carapace armour and hung his sheath, holster, and helmet from his belt, Ignacio stretches a bit behind the stage and stands tall, a calm but firm look on his face.
He steps out from behind the curtains and takes a moment to look over the gathered crew. After a few seconds, he draws his power sword and holds it proudly up in the air.
"I am Ignacio Hyarta von Dornenwalde, legal heir to the von Dornenwalde warrant! As of now, I am in command of this ship and her crew, unless any should wish to dispute that? Are there any among you foolish enough, or can I trust that you are all loyal, Emperor fearing men and women, ready to seize glory and plunder back from my damnable brother?"
__________________ Sergeant Scrabble slowly snuck up behind the pants militia...
Commando Avvie by Savannah!
Last edited by TechnoScrabble : 03-20-2013 at 12:32 AM.
The hard-bitten, heavily armoured mercenary waits on the bridge with the rest, eager to learn a little bit more about her mission. "Keep this Rogue Trader alive while he takes back his Dynasty" is straightforwards enough, really, but it never hearts to figure out a little about the specifics of the plan or the person you're supposed to keep alive. Though she shows little interest in most of the crew barring a constant, all but futile attempt to keep track of every gun in the room, her gaze is drawn repeatedly to the strange, quill-headed alien standing off to the side; what could an alien be doing here, and why did so few people seem surprised? As the Lord-Captain makes his entrance to the bridge, she nods her close-shaven head in approval. Good armour, yeah, even better than hers by the looks of it, weapons on his belt even in the heart of his domain. A good start, since it means he can probably take care of himself pretty well. A lot of her highborn clients have been unwilling to give up on fashion even when they've got hired assassins gunning for them, so it's always a good sign when they show a bit of common sense.
She watches intently as Ignacio makes his passionate speech with the slightest bit of amusement, though she does her best to hide it. Nice touch working the Emperor bit in there, as though He cares about little people like us way out at the edge of everything... She leaves the impious thought to herself, though, well-trained by now to avoid anything that might be construed as blasphemy in public. Once the Captain is finished, she takes a step forwards and speaks up, smooth voice contrasting with her harsh appearance. "Long as I get paid at the end, Captain, you've got my loyalty. Name's MacReady, I'm your new bodyguard. Anyone wants to mess with you, they've gotta go through me first." She pats her boltgun, slung carefully across her back in easy reach, as she makes the statement.
A few higher ranked members of the Adeptus Mechanius were here, of course, but they watched quietly and intently from a small gaggle in the crowd. Felicia had been one of the numerous enginseers bought with them when they entered into partnership with Ignacio Hyarta von Dornenwalde, mostly due to the disrespect Altheus had shown the machine cult. Their work had been disrupted and interfered with, sacred contracts and rulings had been flaunted and the arrogant Captain had managed to actually make some of them experience anger.
Which was actually something of an achievement.
Felicia had been assigned to act as liaison between the Adeptus Mechanius, and the Captain and senior crew, likely to make a low ranked enginseer the bearer of any bad news and a suitable scapegoat.
That part had been left out though.
Personally, she'd disliked work under Altheus as well. The man had no respect for machine spirits and was careless and callous. The quiet times of study Felicia enjoyed had been simply impossible under his iron fisted regime, something she had enough humanity left to recognise as insecurity.
"I wonder Wulf, if he feels more insecure now.."
The amused words were transmitted by her MIU link to the massive cyber mastiff next to her, a construct that ensured there was a few feet of open floor on either side of the tech priest. It tilted its head slightly, unable to make sense of the comment, but Felicia didn't really notice, happy to simply have 'someone' to express her opinion to.
Gathering her robes, she took an instinctive breath and rose her voice with a little help from fine tuning of her vox link.
"Enginseer Felicia, sir." She made a perfectly executed naval salute after a brief query of her memorance systems. "I'm here to help and to make sure everything's.." She broke off to send another query. "Ship shape, yes." A reassured nod. "Shipshape between you and the Adeptus Mechanius. Hallowed is the Ommisah." A hand lightly touched the small cogwheel on her collar.
The crew nearest the gangly, richly robed navigator leave a respectable distance, shifting nervously while avoiding even glancing in his direction, even with his third eye safely covered by a head scarf. Long used to such a reaction by the unwashed masses. Absent-mindedly he shuffles a well worn tarot deck a mildly bemused expression on his skeletal face. At the appearance of his new captain, he draws three cards from the deck and random, consulting them briefly prior to speaking. "I am Navigator Constantine Cassini. House Cassini has sent me to support your endeavours, guiding your noble vessel through the Warp," he says with a carefully measured respectful but not subservient bow. And should you regain your empire, the debt you shall owe my house will bring us closer to our vengeance. he thinks mid-bow with a glint in his eye.
When the time to introduce himself came Rob automatically snapped off a salute
“Pleasure to serve under you Sir, my name is Rob Venturi. I shall be the pilot of the Shuttle should you require to go to the surface of a planet and if needed providing fire support on the ground for your honourable self M’lord.”
Rob keeps the salute up until Ignacio moves along.
Far in the back of the chapel, shaded well by the poorer illumination, stood the tall, emaciated figure of Gorak Trosk. At no point during the gathering had any member of the crew approached the lean kroot, and few enough dared so much as steal glances in his direction. He was perfectly motionless, save for the occasional shifting of his quills, but otherwise he provided nothing of interest for the others, once their initial curiousity and apprehension of a xenos had been overcome. He leaned on his rifle, careful to keep the blades angled forward, so that should an unlikely attack come, he would be in a ready position, despite his apparent calm.
The captain finally made his appearance, and took measure of his crew, making a grand speech. Little of it mattered for Gorak Trosk - though he made mental note of the combat-readiness of the man - save for one word: plunder. At this the kroot finally stirred, standing straight and slinging his weapon over his narrow shoulders, his height allowing his to look over the heads of most of the other crew members.
The details of his contract had already been sealed, and so he made no effort to go forth and pledge himself to the captain; he would serve this man, as he had sworn, in return for the not immodest level of pay he would receive, as well as the promise to entertain possible future dealings with the kindred. That was enough for Gorak Trosk. He had made his mark, and he would do as promised - there was no requirement to re-state such terms in front of this audience. If the captain wished it, however, the kroot saw no harm in doing so, but for the moment he resumed his eerie stillness, towering over the others as a strange, inhuman form in the back of the room.
Denken sighed softly as his new Lord-Captain made a speech. It was nice of the man to work in a praise to the Emperor in his opening statement, and made Denken a bit more comfortable than he perhaps would be otherwise. Denken was a tall and lanky fellow, and his thin limbs and pale white skin suggested weakness, but anyone who looked at his official robes or into the flat black reflective lenses of the goggles that protected his sightless eyes knew that he was more than he appeared.
"Lord-Captain," he stated softly, bobbing his head in respect. Though at first leery of being assigned away from the official business of the Imperium, Denken had come to be happy about the opportunity this offered. Surely there would be countless enemies of the Imperium that he would be allowed to practice with, and the authority he would likely have over his fellow Astropaths should the venture succeed would open up new doors like never before. "I am Denken Crenksaft... And I shall be handling matters of communication."
Barring anyone speaking against him, Ignacio nods, a determined and appreciative grin on his face, and sheaths his sabre.
"Good. Get to your stations, I want us ready to leave by Final Watch this evening. Today begins the fall of Altheus von Dornenwalde! High officers, meet me on the bridge in five."
"MacReady, the pay will be beyond your wildest dreams once I have my Dynasty, assuming your loyalty remains. I hope you've a wish to be the best armed woman in the Expanse. Enginseer," Ignacio turns to Felicia, "I pray your Machine-God watches over us favorably on this trip. I owe many thanks to him already, and I hope he's seen my Tunguska safely through while I was gone."
Ignacio salutes Rob back in the military tradition and bows his head slightly to Constantine and Denken.
"It'll be good to have you both. I'll need a skilled Navigator and Astropath, and an equally skilled pilot."
He turns to his retainer.
"Silvanus, I want you, Brutus, and Deatrix up on the bridge with the high officers and I in five. Have the pilots set a course for Footfall, and the tech-priests install the stasis pod in one of the infirmaries."
Ignacio gestures to all the people he recognizes from the dossier (the PCs) and beckons them to his side.
"You lot, with me. You've been marked out as important, that means you get to join me on the bridge. Especially the kroot. You and I have a lot to learn from each other."
__________________ Sergeant Scrabble slowly snuck up behind the pants militia...
Commando Avvie by Savannah!
Last edited by TechnoScrabble : 03-20-2013 at 06:16 PM.
Felicia nods respectfully. "I've read about the Tunguska Captain. It is such a fine ship, and so many machine spirits working as one for unified goals. I've even heard a story or two. Some say that a man's life was saved when a exhaust vent got too hot and was made angry. It almost filled the entire room with fire to get attention, but the intake valves talked to it and settled the whole thing down.
I wonder if the entire ship works so well, all the spirits caring for one another." Her voice, slightly metallic as it is, becomes a little dreamy. "I'd love to see it one day.. But, oh, I'm sorry. Yes, I'll come with you." She nods.
Wulf follows its mistress quietly, red eyes checking the members of the group in an automatic routine. They stop when they fix on Gorak though, and a metallic voice echoes from the construct's vox speakers. <Xenoform detected. Kill clearance requested.>
A whirring of powering up chainblades comes from its mouth and Felicia shakes her head quickly. "Tag as friendly. Tag as friendly. Return to passive mode!"
As the noise of chainblades dies down, she bows her head meekly. "Sorry Captain. He doesn't mean any harm."
Nodding at the order to go to the bridge Rob gathers this cloak around himself and makes sure to walk a few steps behind the officers on the way to the bridge.
He'd heard that the people above him could take offense if a non-officer like him overreached themselves by acting too familiar and he didn’t want to end up on the wrong side of an electro-whipping.
Ignacio grins at Felicia's admiration of the Tunguska, and Wulf's fervor as he leads the way to a lift that will take them to the bridge.
"It's fine. Your cyber-mastiff is an admirable construct, it'll have some great use in the days to come, especially when we recover the Tunguska. I used to command her, did you know? Had my entire library and laboratorium on that beautiful voidship, traveling between unknown stars at the edge of the Expanse. The machine spirits were very helpful as well, always seemed to know which book I was looking for."
Ignacio thinks for a moment.
"Venturi, your dossier has you marked down as a skilled pilot as far as small craft are concerned. How are you at the helm of a voidship?"
__________________ Sergeant Scrabble slowly snuck up behind the pants militia...
“Sorry Sir I’m not sure, never done it before. I understand the controls but I don’t think I could pull off any fancy manoeuvres without more experience. And I wouldn't want to take the ship into a battle just yet.”
"That's fine, I appreciate a man who can take a step back and look at his capabilities realistically. You are now my personal shuttle pilot. You and MacReady will be getting personal rooms near my suite, yours closer to the emergency shuttle in case anything goes pear-shaped. I expect you'll be able to have the emergency shuttle ready to leave within five minutes of any disaster, understood?" Ignacio speaks while he walks, his voice calm but firm. Everything about him is calm but commanding, it's sort of a thing of his.
__________________ Sergeant Scrabble slowly snuck up behind the pants militia...
Commando Avvie by Savannah!
Last edited by TechnoScrabble : 03-20-2013 at 08:11 PM.
"That's a good man," Ignacio nods.
"Next order of business. Astropath Crenksaft, you're marked down as a rather powerful telepath. Can you rewrite a man's memories, or at least make him easier for me to manipulate? The first few steps of my plan may require we play with the minds of some lesser folk serving my brother."
__________________ Sergeant Scrabble slowly snuck up behind the pants militia...
Commando Avvie by Savannah!
Last edited by TechnoScrabble : 03-20-2013 at 08:44 PM.
Constantine occupies himself with continuing to shuffle his tarot deck, occasionally glancing at one of the other member of the senior crew before drawing a card out of the deck, glancing at it, and continuing to shuffle silently.
Walking along with Ignacio, Denken listened quietly to the others speak. He figured that the woman with the heavy armor was a bodyguard of sorts, the tech-priest was obviously just that, and the navigator was easily recognizable by the covered third eye. With his own psychic powers augmented by mutation, Denken viewed the Navigators in a better light than most, and he nodded a greeting. The xenos makes Denken itchy and he longs to strike out with his powers against it, but the Lord-Captain is obviously a pious man and would not allow heresy on his ship. Likely it is one of the very few acceptable xenos. Still, perhaps a little telepathic investigation was warranted at a later time.
After listening to Ignacio's words, Denken spoke in his deep, slow voice that was strangely at odds with his near skeletal appearance. "All of my talents lie in the realm of mental manipulation, Captain. Though I do not yet posses the delicate touch required to mould a man's self to my liking, I can most certainly affect their judgement and even dominate their mind for a time, if necessary. I can also, given time, plumb a man's thoughts and memories for any information they may have, as well as any lingering taint or corruption."
Ignacio enters the lift to the bridge and beckons his entourage to follow.
"That will do just fine, Crenksaft. The details of the plan will be laid out shortly, and you'll find that your powers have a very special place in it. Should the Emperor will it, the Tunguska will be back in my hands within a short time. Enginseer Felicia, I trust you or another tech-priest onboard this ship have enough training in the ways of the Omnissiah to take control of a ship's servitors or hamper any aggressive machine spirits?"
__________________ Sergeant Scrabble slowly snuck up behind the pants militia...
Commando Avvie by Savannah!
Last edited by TechnoScrabble : 03-20-2013 at 10:04 PM.
The tall, lithe xenos fell quietly into step behind the rest of the senior staff, only acknowledging his captain's recognition with a slight tilt of his head. He struck a somewhat bizarre appearance, half-wrapped as he was, similar to the fashion often affected by Tallarn desert peoples, save he wore a much more sophisticated cameololine cloak. His eyes were concealed beneath a pair of thick goggles, with the strap being tucked low, just beneath his quills. In contrast, his weapons seemed crude and savage, but he had insisted on them, having once tried human weapons, and found them less impressive than his own (not to mention night useless in close combat).
Gorak Trosk barely looked at the cyber mastiff as it fixed its attentions on him, if only briefly, but this was mostly due to a lack of real comprehension. The kroot had always assumed that human machines of any high degree of sophistication were cyborg in nature; and yet this... thing was purely mechanical. Being a warrior well versed in extreme environments and apex predators of a myriad of shapes, he was unsure as to how one should treat an artificial predator. And worst of all, it was inedible.
His gait long and inhuman, Garok Trosk moved silently on the deck plating, his long, curved talons making no sound at all, until he hovered behind and over the young pilot, the one called "Rob". For a little while the kroot kept his silence, simply watching the man, but eventually he opted to make himself known.
At first he simply made a loud click, but when the man was aware he was being so closely watched, the kroot switched into a somewhat clipped but none-the-less fluent low-gothic, "I am Gorak Trosk. You are pilot, yes? Paid well?"
“Not exactly Xenos. Until recently my pay was enough food to survive and not being executed.”
Not exactly comfortable around the Kroot, Rob waits a few seconds before asking the obvious follow up question.
Jayne sighs and falls in behind the Captain, replying. "Captain, I've only lost one client, and she insisted on walking three blocks in an unsecured Hive while wearing some sort of 'ball gown'. 'Long as you pay the contract, anyone gunning for you is gonna catch a bad case of being dead." Following behind, she begins grumbling to herself just loud enough to be heard. "Why's everyone assume that Mercenaries are untrustworthy? Second oldest profession there is, but do we get any respect? Naw. Ain't nobody assumes their chirugeon's gunna cut them up and sell their organs on the black market, but the first reaction is 'Mercenary? Backstabbing coward, they are...' Warp it, kill half a dozen assassins in a man's foyer and he still looks at you funny when he thinks you ain't lookin'." When the Tech-priest's mechanical dog begins barking threats at the odd-looking alien (which Jayne still can't quite keep from watching intently), she tenses up and grips her boltgun with one hand, ready to swing it into firing position at a moment's notice, then releases it with a sigh as the situation is defused.
When the Captain begins his discussion with the Astropath, Jayne's skin begins to crawl and she pointedly looks away. Mucking about with a man's mind... It just ain't right. Psykers give me the creeps... She thinks to herself, though once again she refrains from voicing the criticism. This is certainly the strangest group she's worked for in the past, almost sounds like a joke. 'Astropath, Enginseer and alien walk into a bar' and all that. Still, they at most seem to be a fairly competent bunch. "That reminds me. Captain, do you keep a microbead on you? I'd like to set mine to your frequency, if you don't mind. Makes it a lot easier to come running if you need some help."
Felicia seems to beam at the Captain's compliment to Wulf, patting him on the head with the quiet clang of metal rapping against metal. "He's always been there. He was an old family dog back home and when I found my calling, I took him with me.
He was old, see, the flesh was dying and I couldn't have that. I used a hardened servo system to wrap around his bones first, and the machine spirit supported his movements, made him steadier, faster. I couldn't let him near water after that though...
I can tell you more about all that later if you like? Not everything though, I need to follow the laws."
She follows along quietly as the Captain addresses other crew members, idly discounting the idea of suggesting he make people he wants to control into servitors. She's sure he has reasons for doing it another way. The tech priestess speaks up again when he addresses her once more.
"The Tunguska? Well, it won't know me, you see, it might not let me in happily. And it can upset a lot of the machine spirits if I try to get in against their will. But then, I doubt they're happy with not being able to carry out their true function, they must feel so neglected out there.. I wonder if it remembers you, maybe if I have the right codes and patterns to show I'm working for you, it'll let me work with it more easily.
It's like Wulf. I've given him lots of codes to make sure no one else can trick him into thinking they're me. But I think I can persuade it that working with you is the right thing to do."
She meanwhile, never even acknowledges Gorak, though she does make sure to always keep Wulf between them.
Ignacio taps the microbead on his ear and rattles of the frequency for MacReady, and pushes the 'bridge' button on the lift.
"I never said you weren't trustworthy, MacReady," his slight grin widens into a hopefully disarming smile, "Only that not every hired hand wants to stick around for the entire war."
He looks at Wulf with an appreciative nod while Felicia speaks.
"I'd like to discuss it more when we have the time. I considered joining the Mechanicus at one point, but my father wouldn't have it. Assuming nobody's completely overwritten the Tunguska's spirits, my seal should still have some working override codes. I'll see if I can find the schematics somewhere."
When the lift reaches the bridge, Ignacio will step out wordlessly and walk up to the Captain's throne before surveying those on the bridge.
__________________ Sergeant Scrabble slowly snuck up behind the pants militia...
On the bridge, a group of the ship's highest ranking officers are there, all hailing the Captain and saluting when he steps out of the lift.
The bridge has three tiers to it, the highest holding the command throne, the middle holding command officer's chairs, and the lowest holding the work stations for the bridge crew. The windows are smaller and better armoured than the bridge windows you'd see on most civilian craft. A small tram runs down the back and through the spine of the ship to the navigator's tower. There are displays and gritty, staticky screens about the place giving readouts of the conditions of the various parts of the ship, and a direct video feed to the enginarium, where Magos Rothschild is wired directly into the ship, more cogitator bank than man.
Gaius Silvanus is here, joined by First Officer Brutus in all his medal-covered blue and white uniform and Scarlet Deatrix, dressed in a stylized armoured bodyglove and a short, loose dress that you're sure hides some carapace plates. A skull mask covers most of her shaved head, so it's hard to tell, but she seems uncomfortable being seen by all these people.
"I've collected everyone like you ordered, M'lord," Gaius smiles and bows, his hands together in his sleeves, "And we're making our way outsystem. We should be able to enter warp in a few hours."
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TechnoScrabble forced me to do it I swear. :P
"Captain, given our imminent departure, I must inquire as to our destination so that I may begin the rituals required for safe passage. I am certain you have your own rituals to undertake to assure good fortune during the journey through the warp." Constantine adds, finally ceasing his shuffling and storing his tarot deck into a belt pouch.
The kroot entered the bridge without any discernible acknowledgement of the event, his focus still on the human pilot. He did have to duck just slightly, to avoid having his quills scrape against the top of the door frame. If he was truly aware of Rob's discomfort, he gave no sign. "Captain is not paying well? Then you are not good pilot?"
Keeping his voice down so that he doens't end up talking over people on the bridge
"I don't know how much this Captain is paying me, that was what the last owner of the ship offered me after I was captured during a boarding action and was pressed into working for him. I imagine how much i get paid from now on will depend on how well the new Lord does at reclaiming his ships.
I'm a pretty good at piloting small craft though so if your scared about being in a shuttle piloted by me calm your nerves, So long as your in the Captains employ I will get you to where you need to go."
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Grey Seer by Xander Morhaime.
