"Kill them all! For the Emperor!"
Deathstroke draws his Exitus pistol and shoots the Human involved in the ritual in the head, hoping to disrupt it if it's not too late.
"Zaddion, forget the manufactorum. Return to the Hall of Justice. Chaos sighted!"
1d100 ⇒ 45 vs 73 Called Shot, Half Action to Aim
Damage 2d10 + 4 ⇒ (7, 6) + 4 = 17 Pen. 9
"Split up. We can do this faster as individuals. Just be prepared to respond to calls for assistance. Scorched Earth. If it's not wearing an official's uniform, assume it's an enemy. If you can find out what's behind this, do so. The sooner we eliminate the source, the sooner our duty is done."
Deathstroke fades into the shadows, using his spy-mask systems to search for living people in the building as he goes.
Silent Move 1d100 ⇒ 12 vs. 81
Deathstroke consults the maps that he has of Saint Annard's Penance. Plugging the coordinates into his sky eye, he sends the drone to get maps of the closest manufactorum.
He addresses the highest ranking Arbite:
"Arbite, what is your name?"
After receiving an answer, he continues:
"You're going to be pulling double duty. First of all, you're responsible for keeping this area secure. Get on the vox and get as many loyal Arbites to regroup here as you can."
"Secondly, you will act as an information officer. We will have questions about people and places. It'll be your job to answer those questions expeditiously. Do you understand?"
"Brim, old friend, we need you to get the Vox back in working order. Seal yourself in with the guards. They can protect you while you work. The rest of us are going to check this place from top to bottom and figure out what went on here. Then we're going to find the people who did this and kill them."
"Aid is here. Police this area. Gather up and inventory all weapons and gear. If you find anything with strange markings on it, brig it to our attention. I understand an Inquisitor came down a few days ago. Do you know anything about him or his retinue?"
Deathstroke wanted to keep them busy so that they couldn't dwell on what's going on. The last thing he needed was panicked Arbites.
"We're on a penal world where the prisoners outnumber the guards by more than a thousand to one. We have a week until the surface of this world will get viral bombed into oblivion, and we have no idea who is actually behind this. I would say that Resistance is In Extremis. We'll be fighting block to block to our goal, unless we come up with something suitably clever."
He waved the Guardsmen over to where he stood. He addressed the trooper of the highest rank.
"Trooper, sitrep." (He spoke in Military Tongue, to give them a sense of familiarity.)
He allowed the Sky Eye to continue to run, gathering intel on locations and strengths of allies and enemies, street layouts, and building states. (We can use this info to come up with an actual plan.)
Deathstroke takes picts of the hologram from all angles, via his Spy Mask.
"What types of air defenses does Saint Annard's Penance possess? Can we be dropped off inside the prison itself? We can keep the prisoners busy while your ground forces organize. And we should move quickly, before they consolidate their hold on the defenses."
Deathstroke would look grim if anyone could see his face.
"To be honest, Commander, if Heresy is involved, a large portion of your forces down there may not be yours, anymore. Would explain how the prisoners were able to plan and execute on such a large scale without being detected."
He looks at Brother Sariel.
"I think if we ensure the prisoners don't get control of the command center, it'll go a long way to stopping this thing in it's tracks."
"Brother Sariel speaks the truth of it. We will assist in retaking the prison in a manner that I believe will meet with your approval. Quick, surgical strikes to remove the ring leaders. Once that has been accomplished, things should return to what passes as normal. All we need are maps, a list of likely suspects to engineer such a rebellion, and an Aquila Lander to get us down there. We can start with ground control to find out why contact was lost."
"No problem. Go ahead. I'm going to the top of the food chain."
Deathstroke switches to a command frequency to see who everyone is deferring to in the chain of command. Then he will comm that signal privately and offer assistance. All the while, he continues to move towards the shuttle bay with the intention of requisitioning a ride to the planet's surface.
"No, not yet. After I get refreshed, I'm thinking about arranging transport to the planet. I'd like to see this Inquisitor Bramstrok for myself."
Deathstroke stands and moves into the refresher. After his shower, he suits up once more, and moves back to the main room to run a complete weapons check and to reload his magazines.
"A captured renegade should have some interesting tales to tell."
Deathstroke nods, and turns back to the Lieutenant.
"Lieutenant, could you please inform the Medicae bay to inform us immediately of any change in the Inquisitor's status or condition? It is imperative that we are kept apprised, and I'm certain that the medicae would be ill-at-ease with several people such as us tromping through their medbay, not to mention the other patients."
After receiving his answer, Deathstroke goes into his room and immediately moves to the indicated terminal to begin his history lessons.
"I am Deathstroke Clade Vindicare, Imperial Throne Agent. Sending bona fides now. We have been adrift and in stasis for 5 centuries, Commander. Please understand that if the codes seem a bit out of date."
Deathstroke touched several buttons to broadcast their Inquisitorial Codes.
"Is there anything else that you require? Inquisitor Drakos is in dire straits."
Deathstroke's sigh was barely audible as were most of the things that he did. He moved to another cogitator array to attempt to identify the nearby vessels.
"We are an Inqusitorial Vessel that was set adrift due to catastrophic damage to our navigational array. We guard the Inquisitor Jack Drakos, who is in need of immediate medicae attention. Can you assist?"
He awaits a response from the hailing vessels.