"Uh-huh.... Harharharrr! Fear da lil Gretchins popin from da ground, eh? Harharhar." Then he pulls the man close to his face: "Pray, 'at da Boss really ordered so, or I munch on ya bones boy! Harharharhar, now do da duty of urs already!"
Later he will ask the Captain if he really did ordered such a thing.
Immediately after landing on Footfall, Hexa makes a quick rush towards the closest junkyard, throwing some Thrones at the owner and literally digs through the junk, picking things here and there - seemingly at random and at great speed all the while debating with 'Glados' about future projects.
Loaded with all kinds of junk, wires, oxidated metal plates and wires he returns to the lander.
After his part of the 'financial transactions' are done, he will accompany 'da Boss' as Bodyguard. Keeping within earshot and showing off his extra large choppa to every one looking at him or the boss - slowly sliding one thumb along the jagged axe blade.
As the airlock opens a squad of naval armsmen spill out and post at attention in neat parallel lines. Gaius emerges with a pair of shotgun toting ratings flanking him, head held high.
He turns to Tyboris, "Restricted leave in rotating shifts, subject to section heads' approval. Everyone is to stay within 30 minutes walk of the ship, if we need to run that's how long everyone has to get back aboard. Senior officers act at their own discretion. Now, let's find out who wanted to lure us here."
Tyboris keeps pace behind the captain until they pause and he takes a step forward to listen. Standing tall with his armor covered in blood red robes and two servo skulls following him above his shoulders. His axe at his side, though mostly for show, he much preferred the efficiency of his back slung Bolter. I will inform the crew he replies to the captain when he finishes speaking. Tyboris then connecting through Vox relays he messages the ship and issues the orders through ship wide Vox. He then orders servo skulls aboard the ship to roam and relay the message on set intervals, particularly near exits to remind every crew member.
Command 40 vs
Casually maneuvering the Victus Rex into the starport high above Footfall, Wraxus leaves systems directions for the rest of the helms crew before quickly leads his Captain and the other officers to their waiting chariot. Entering the hangar bay, several of the arvus lighters have already begun to depart, delivering crewmen planetside for requisitions, trading, and of course, a little furlow.
"Shall we be on down to Footfall then and see what this summons is all about? The Lander is fully prepped for the general range of possibilities." Without a further word, he steps into the Aquila Lander, takes the pilot seat, and boots up its archaic system.
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"Wut Zoggit do? Humies run from Ork boiz! Den wut? Zoggit try to stay all hidy like if need be?"
Wise decision Zoggit.
Never thought I'd be saying that.
Emilio makes to leave and explore within the 30 minute range.
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Iota was rarely seen after the console was replaced, keeping to himself in the small storage space near the enginarium which is off limits for anyone even of the cult, housing his private experiments. He only emerged twice to reconsecrate plasma conduits. Being the veins of the ship only he himself has the clearance to take such important matters in his hands.
His current project is a structure for a geller field weapon - a portable platform on which he wants to engineer a minimized geller field generator which generates only a very small field comparatively but one that extends outwards from the weapon muzzle for 20-30 metres.
The theory behind this is that a generator building a static portable field would be too unwieldy to carry, but a weapon firing bolts of 'reinforced reality' might be enough to banish the warp spawned abominations he encountered during field failures on the Occurance Border.
Would that be tech use or a trade roll for the platform? I'd takle this as ongoing project - trying to appropriate geller field components then attempting to downsize them and lastly fitting them on the platform.
He arrives on the bridge moments after the Rex exits the warp in fulll expedition gear - a Bolter slung under his Robes and an Axe openly at his belt. He communes with his junior tech priests in binary through the ship systems, handing them a list of items to appropriate after landing - mainly replacement spare parts for those that had been used during the journey but also including any geller field components they can acquire.
He follows the lord-captain to the shuttle and onto the station while his junior tech priests find a place long before the senior officers arrive.
He sets his Auger systems to full scans, overlaying a map of lifesigns onto his memorance implant visual.
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Nimina stays close to her captain, her eyes scanning the area for anything out of the ordinary. There'll likely be time for a little fun later.
Once his vessel is docked properly he departs with his personal combat servitor guards and an escort of ship's armsmen, led by his Master at Arms.
He voxes his uncle "I am heading to meet our contact, recommend you meet me there."
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Oii, Boss! Wait fa ya personal guard will ya? Planed on lootzing som bare materials on da junkyard fee da xperiments - but Glados here reminds me that da hummies fear da boys in da town. Ill stick Ta yar side 'nsted, no? Can't hav ya Ben shot by some idot on dis rock. Fink of da truble dad wuld cause fer me! Findin another hummie making dad much lootz like ya isnt easy ya 'now?!
Then he will take the left side of 'his' Rogue Trader, towering over the group in his full equipment - one hand at the oversized axe-like chopper the other at the stock of a large 'Shoota'. The last one looks like a antique, rusted machine gun from a time long since forgotten in the history of man.
Every time someone looks funny at the group - or most likely him - he will shout with the full force of his lungs:
If that does not succeed at clearing a wide path for the group around the 'Boss', he will glare daggers, stinkbombs and dakka at anyone staying in da way, growling low and dangerous and gripps the shaft of his choppa more obvious.
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"Oh, finally on, hm, solid ground.", remarks Khalid. He makes his way to the vox-hailer, contacting Port Authority.
"...Yes, Senior Adept Cain... Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, he was a good man... When was that? Oh, how time flies. So his successor, this young lady, I believe Rohana was her name? She knows of the captain..."
"...Oh, she retired... Hmmm... I'll make my way there, then." He raises his head, covering the headphone with his hand. "Uh, young master, most of our connections seem to have dried out. I'm afraid we might have some visitations from the esteemed meeting party... For shame. And I had such a nice gift basket prepared for the good man.", he shakes his head, closing the connection. "Might I join you?", he asks Artorius, approaching in a hasty tempo.
"Khalid, as always I assume that you have all minor docking matters in hand? Vox if you need me to smooth anything over."
Gaius touched a hand to his voxbead to listen in on his new seneshal and frowned, "Sextus, I'll deal with port authority, you keep the crew in check it's the new bloods first time in Footfall."
He found the dockmaster's office and attempted to smooth things over while an armsman looked on casually.
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"Oh, surely we can smooth this over. You see those orks are less threatening than they look. Why, they're basically just big cuddly green puppies. I mean just look in Hexa's soulful eyes or Zoggit's regal purple regalia, he is so trying to be like the humans he idolizes. And why should you be so concerned with the Will, it's just a simple trading vessel, not some ship of war. Why, perhaps you can come aboard and avail yourself of some of the pleasures such a ship can provide, fine amasec perhaps? Or some simply tantalizing lho? Perhaps a night of entertainment in the lower decks where the crew likes to let off steam."
Gaius waits in a nearby bar while his agents find out where his mysterious contact wants to meet, as well as any information they can procure.
Knowing that Khalid will handle the logistics for both the orbital docking of the Victus Rex, Wraxus checks his arms and falls in behind Lord-Captain Castmirre. "Is anyone else as intrigued as I as to why we were summoned to this station? I see no obvious signs of war, perhaps they simply want to shower us with gifts and praise?"
Soulful eyes. Wow, that was the work of a master. I can learn from this guy.
Iota keeps pace a little behind lord captain Castmirre to his left while his tech acolytes swarm from the ship on their respective errants.
His Eyes seem to unfocus and his eyelids flutter for a moment after Drake spoke.
"As the request for the captains involvement claimed the existence of great opportunities rather than great immediate gain I estimate the chance of voluntarily receiving meaningful resources beyond the common aristo-social behaviour pattern of compulsive need to impress guests at 1.93 percent. Further statistics will become available once as we gain more data about the parameters of the local situation"
"All the docking procedures are in order, young master.", Khalid nods. "I can't believe this... is this how you fill in a IDP-9948-Sigma-AFG... Barbarians...", he mutters scornfully at the seemingly arcane and inconceivable document on top of the stack. "What's next, give me a THS-7394a-Ypsilon-17f for a cargo of Fortress World grain?", he adds, sarcastically.
Khalid nods at Iota. "You are correct, Magos. Though, our dynasty never had a friendly relationship with statistical analyses.", he sends a toothless grin at the Mechanicus. "I'd at least give it 3.3%, myself"
"At least it wasn't a long form BDD-7648-Alpha 7.2 in triplicate again."
Nimina opens her mouth to make a comment on the forms, and Khalid's obsession with them, but held her tongue.
For someone who seemed so unobtrusive he could insult her in at least a hundred different ways that would take months for her to decipher, and if he was particularly offended he could make her life difficult in a manner that she'd never even think to suspect him of.
Better to leave the old man to his own devices.
The sides of Iotas mouth almost drop into a frown for a moment before the carefully constructed face of neutrality reasserts itself
Bonds and hard facts such as statistics are mutually exclusive by definition, Seneschal. The fact that people believe statistics can be overcome stems from the fact that we have not yet rediscovered the sacred technology to harvest all data the Omnissiah, praise him, provides for us. Thus all statistics remain flawed by their lack of all-encompassing data but remain useful when the fact of their flawedness is not overlooked.
As Gaius leaves the office of the port administration, Heax awaits him with his loud laughter and wide-spread arms as if ready to hug the man.
" Now what, Boss? Ar we 'elcome ere or what? An 'ere's da lootz on this rock, already? Why call us 'ere an not talk ta us afta we come her'? Dumb if ya ask Hexa! 'Kud be a trap, ya know?!"
For noe the large greenish, purple cloaked ork keeps his voice down. He trying to be sneaky and all. But he knows he is failing but he be quit. An only move when told. Maybe he learn more sneaky stuff!
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"If it's not a trap then I'll be mildly surprised. Hopefully with two orks around as well as Emilio any ambuscade will be dealt with shortly." As he finds a seat at the bar Gaius orders an amasec for himself and something appropriate for the orks, jet fuel perhaps? "The message was to come to Footfall, we're here now. I trust that we'll find out why soon."
Tyboris takes watch near the door of the bar and doesn't order a drink. Even if he wanted too, he's sure the size of the furniture would not support him or his weight. He keeps his servo skull near the captain and Orks so he can hear anything important, while he maintains distance and scans the patrons and bar for any signs of a trap.
"Ahh, Boss ... Da best ideas from ya 'gain! Time fer da booz, eh?! "
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You proceed to the Jade Garden, a well-known and well-liked dining place in Footfall. It serves spicy oriental cuisine with a touch of the forbidden xenos culture.
At the door, the manager, a man by the name of Hank, meets you and ushers you into a private room, big enough to accommodate your retinues.
There inside your host and contact is seated. He smiles. The rogue traders among you and the old-timers know him.
He is....
After getting a point of contact Gaius goes to the Jade Garden. Upon reaching the restaurant he turns to his entourage.
"Armsmen, stay out here. Keep watch for anything... interesting and vox me if something happens. Emilio, Hexa, Zoggit, Tyboris, you're all coming with me." With that he sweeps in.
Gaius spies Septimus Batiatus and smiles, now things are beginning to come together. "Ah, Uncle Septimus, a pleasure to see you once more. Leave it to you to select a place of such epicurean delights as this. How is your eldest? Still serving in the Battlefleet? You must call me when he completes his tour, I have need of men of naval talent aboard the Will."
"I thought we agreed Gaius, that I had first claim on cousin Quintarius, you have first claim on Junicus' eldest. Fabicus quartarius, I believe was his name. Still so hard to keep track of all the contacts the family has."
Artorius pauses to wait for the server before he orders "I will have the Lord Solar Phesuant with a starter of stuffed Olgin leaves. Oh and a bottle of your 698 Sonoran Amsac, such a good year, though I prefer the 686 it has such a strong ultenberry flavour."
Emilio points toward the entrance.
Hexa, Zoggit. Guard the enrance.
He stands beside Gaius.
"Oiii, glad ya say that, Emi! Da long talks of da old hummies is not da fing of da orks. Make sure Ta yell us if there is da smashin to make! Come lil sneaker, you to ta corns and watch da room, me take da door an block it."
After a few steps he turns around and yells towards the Rogue Traders:
Then the big Ork finally leaves and takes up a clearly visible guarding stance in front of the door.
"Yez bozz! On me way bozz!" he follows Driva and helps to flank the entrance. He puts himself close to a wall. Trying to make himself as flat as an ork can possibly be. He raises a thumb at Driva, a huge grin on his toothy face
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Iota is keeping to himself. He knows the importance of smalltalk in social situations to gather information but is all too happy to leave such matters to others where possible, running more simulations on his project on his internal cogitator instead.
Nimina won't drink anything hard while she's on duty, she's made that mistake before and struggled to live it down. Glancing at the prices that would have taken years to save for in her old life she orders the least exotic thing on the menu to drink.
tech use
Auspex scan
Tyboris tries to configure his internal Auspex to scan for any listening devices or anything that is transmitting a signal that isn't recognizable as part of their dynasties frequency. He carefully searches the room and monitors the servo skull he left outside.
Emilio trusts the contact, but he studies him, nevertheless. Looking for signs of malicious intent.
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"Milords, your humble servant is thankful for your swift action for the opportunity that is the prize of this venture that I have discovered shall become available to our dynasties, if we prove fortunate, in a week's time. You see, the famed oracles of Footfall auctions the chance to salvage this treasure in a week's time. Be warned that only the chosen dynasties who can offer the acceptable tribute will be given the opportunity."
"Oh, the oracles!", he chuckles, sipping something exotic smelling from a small cup as he slowly sits down on the couch. "You know, get anybody off the street, and they'll tell you they're a myth, but rarely does an urban legend live that long. Same goes for babbling old fools, mind you!", he laughs, and goes on to share everything he knows of the oracles.
"Oh. That spicy stuff gives me indigestion... Oh, how I almost embarassed your great-great-great uncle on an event with the Lee dynasty about two-hundred years back...", he says, rubbing his spotted hand on his raisin-like complexed face, food staying almost untouched in front of him. "So, for that tribute, masters. I'm afraid are coffers aren't as full as they once were, though our military might is significant.", he shares his thoughts as he crumbles bread in his soup.
"What do they ask for, in a tribute?", he asks, vacuuming a spoonful with the sound of an emptying sink.