Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
Einhardt doesn't even respond on the old vox, he merely waits, and then strides through the door purposefully, stopping just past the threshold to the small room before meeting Vincent's intense stare with his own. As usual, you can tell he is somewhat nonplussed by your complete lack of fear in him (or at least your exceptionally ability to hide it). Despite his coldly professional demeanor, you recognize that he is furious by the way his neck muscles stand rigid, and his jaw remains set between words. When you say nothing, he barks out what brought him here, his tenor that of a drillmaster dressing down a conscript who continues to buck regulations.
"Just what are you playing at Sepheris? Bothle just sent me word that my squad has been reassigned to some filthy, fungus-hauling Agri-Scow re-routed to Orcut hive as a necessary security detail!"
"I have a trade delegation flying in from the Syratis Corporation at 22:00 that are going to need armed escort for a tour of the claustrum, and there is no way I can delegate that to Paiden or Hyall..."
"Just what kind of mother-fecking mushrooms is that bird carrying that you need ten Imperial Guardsmen to watch over it!?!"
The Princep's Pub
"I assume you won't say who your masters are, correct? Would you at least say who they serve?" Iacton smells the water before taking a cautious sip. With any luck, Danicos' degree of divinity will be discovered soon.
Danicos raises his eyebrows when Iacton sniffs at the water.
"It's not poison, I assure you. That would be kind of pointless and uncouth of me after all the effort to bring you here."
He clears his throat as Albrek and Rico take their seats.
"You assume incorrectly, Iacton, but all in good time. What can I get for you, Albrek? Johnnie?"
Dunkan Danicos looks across the room to where Ivaanov is still standing rigidly by Oktammor near the doorway.
Albrek walks over to the bar with the slow uncertainty of felid treading along the rim of a bathtub, as if any minute he will awake from a particularly vivid dream.
"Ummm...do you have any Choshwaller beer?"
"Amasec for me."
"Guess social hour is over.... So Dunkan what can you tell us about the Withdrawn Veil? Have you gotten any leads where Sun... Quincus Dauln of the Arbites has been abducted to?"I take a taste of the Forlorn Maiden . "Quite excellent, just the right balance. Not to sweet, not to bitter."
"Any idea what those things in the Gearbox, and the thing from the Mercy might be after?"
Dunkan smiles at Albrek before asking,
"Bottle or draft?"
As he moves about to tap a keg for the disbelieving guardsman, he tries to answer Savalos' volley of questions.
"The Withdrawn Veil is a topic unto itself."
"As far as credible information about where Ruvos Halleon's clerk has been taken, I cannot be certain, but word amongst the gangers is that Trizo of the Yellobouros may have her sequestered somewhere."
He nods happily at your compliment.
"Thanks, nice to know someone appreciates a well-made drink."
He raises one eyebrow in Iacton's general direction.
"By the way, what's your poison, Uriah?"
Upon hearing Savalos' final question, he takes on a more serious mien, lowering his burly upper body to the edge of the bar and speaking quietly, holding one finger before his lips before to forestall you from speaking too much more about it.
"On that matter, I was kind of hoping you would have something more to tell me about those...things.
Awareness(50) =
Made it by 6
"Just water, thank you."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
Einhardt doesn't even respond on the old vox, he merely waits, and then strides through the door purposefully, stopping just past the threshold to the small room before meeting Vincent's intense stare with his own. As usual, you can tell he is somewhat nonplussed by your complete lack of fear in him (or at least your exceptionally ability to hide it). Despite his coldly professional demeanor, you recognize that he is furious by the way his neck muscles stand rigid, and his jaw remains set between words. When you say nothing, he barks out what brought him here, his tenor that of a drillmaster dressing down a conscript who continues to buck regulations.
"Just what are you playing at Sepheris? Bothle just sent me word that my squad has been reassigned to some filthy, fungus-hauling Agri-Scow re-routed to Orcut hive as a necessary security detail!"
"I have a trade delegation flying in from the Syratis Corporation at 22:00 that are going to need armed escort for a tour of the claustrum, and there is no way I can delegate that to Paiden or Hyall..."
"Just what kind of mother-fecking mushrooms is that bird carrying that you need ten Imperial Guardsmen to watch over it!?!"
Vincents tone is serene as he replies to the sergeant, devoid of any traces of anger or frustration.
"I apologize if Bothe's explanation was somewhat misleading. The truth is that the Agri-Scow carries nothing of value, it is only its destination that is important. At 05:15 this morning a number of gaurdsmen went AWOL along with a Charaptus class lander, their destination, as you may have guessed, was Orcut VII. Your squad will be overseeing recovery operations on the shuttle and guardsmen."
Vincent pauses to clear his throat before continuing.
"I know that Paiden an Hyall are idiots just as well as you do, which is exactly why they were not selected for this. I require someone competent to conduct operations in Orcut VII. I'm sure there is someone you can find to babysit some corporate felids for a few hours."
In a low voice, "Well we can talk on that once we get other questions out of the way."
The Princep's Pub
Dunkan Danicos smirks again, pouring more of the crystal clear water into a tumbler for Uriah after passing a bottle of amasec down the bar to Rico with a practiced flick of the wrist. Johnnie catches it gamely.
"Ah, another adherent to the virtue of temperance."
Rico, Savalos, and Uriah notice the friendly grin slip from Danicos' face for an instant as he looks over his shoulder to where Oktammor waits near the door beside Ivaanov, the tech-priest still standing resolutely away from the bar. The ex-arbitrator and ganger also observe the hulking old man in the power armor incline his head slightly, as if straining to hear something from his gorget-mounted microbead. Dunkan and Oktammor's eyes lock gazes meaningfully for the span of a heartbeat, and your host effortlessly slides back into his good-natured bonhomie.
"Thanks again kind escort. Take heed everyone, my aide leaves. Immediate vocational exigencies."
"No need to keep Oktammor company now, Ivaanov Drivanovich, duty calls him. Please, enjoy my hospitality like the others. I presume you will prefer to imbibe water as well?"
Ivaanov doesn't budge an inch. He merely stares down Danicos, arms crossed in front of his blood-red robes.
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
Vincent's tone is serene as he replies to the sergeant, devoid of any traces of anger or frustration.
"I apologize if Bothle's explanation was somewhat misleading. The truth is that the Agri-Scow carries nothing of value, it is only its destination that is important. At 05:15 this morning a number of guardsmen went AWOL along with a Churraptus class lander, their destination, as you may have guessed, was Orcut VII. Your squad will be overseeing recovery operations on the shuttle and guardsmen."
Vincent pauses to clear his throat before continuing.
"I know that Paiden an Hyall are idiots just as well as you do, which is exactly why they were not selected for this. I require someone competent to conduct operations in Orcut VII....
Einhardt is very accustomed to your passive-aggressive responses to his outbursts, and almost continues on his angry rant, but, picking up the gist of what you said, he stops suddenly mid-sentence as if physically struck. Your explanation seemingly is the last thing he ever expected to hear.
"I don't care...wait...what, what did you just say? AWOL? Who? One of our flight crews? Is the Warden-Colonel aware of this?"
Under Geltdown
Upon reaching the bottom of the long shaft, Kaltos and the boy find themselves quite unexpectedly in a dry, octagonally shaped service tunnel of some kind. A structural design quite unlike the standard architectural schematics for Oremite sewerage and utility accessways. The tunnels seem to be pre-fabricated construction passages of some kind, complete with studded metal skid-plates lining the floor. No piping or conduit are visible, making the purpose of the passageway far from obvious.
They are also completely silent where you stand, without even a hint of the foul smell of human effluvia in evidence. Your unease grows when you note the auspex soundings showing that the corridor continues on for some distance, descending at a slight grade, before branching off into a labyrinthine maze of interconnecting passageways and cross-shafts.
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
Einhardt is very accustomed to your passive-aggressive responses to his outbursts, and almost continues on his angry rant, but, picking up the gist of what you said, he stops suddenly mid-sentence as if physically struck. Your explanation seemingly is the last thing he ever expected to hear.
"I don't care...wait...what, what did you just say? AWOL? Who? One of our flight crews? Is the Warden-Colonel aware of this?"
"None of the flight crews seem to be involved, the crew of this specific shuttle was diverted beforehand. However, we do not yet have a definitive identification of all the guardsmen, though they were led by a Commissar Ekubal. As for the Warden-Colonel, he has taken ill and Treggs is screening his calls. The courier I sent to alert him has not yet arrived. I am sure you know that these matters require the utmost discretion."
Under Geltdown
Upon reaching the bottom of the long shaft, Kaltos and the boy find themselves quite unexpectedly in a dry, octagonally shaped service tunnel of some kind. A structural design quite unlike the standard architectural schematics for Oremite sewerage and utility accessways. The tunnels seem to be pre-fabricated construction passages of some kind, complete with studded metal skid-plates lining the floor. No piping or conduit are visible, making the purpose of the passageway far from obvious.
They are also completely silent where you stand, without even a hint of the foul smell of human effluvia in evidence. Your unease grows when you note the auspex soundings showing that the corridor continues on for some distance, descending at a slight grade, before branching off into a labyrinthine maze of interconnecting passageways and cross-shafts.
I adjust the auspex to its up most limits to find the limits of the corridors of the maze to see if needed where I can cross to a different path to avoid detection or pursuit as the case may be. I commit all of the information to memory before leaving the area. Once I get to the end of corridor I will look again. Once done I will pull out my staff and start walking down the corridor mindful of any other traps that might impede our path.
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
Einhardt raises his head, juts his chin out slightly, and narrows his eyes, looking at you with outright skepticism, and mild distaste.
"Ekubal, eh?"
When he says it, the name rolls off his tongue like a bit of spoiled food.
Johnnie subtly switches off the safety on his weapons.
"Do not worry yourself, Oktammor. All is well."
The Princep's Pub
...pouring more of the crystal clear water into a tumbler for Uriah "Ah, another adherent to the virtue of temperance."
"Considering what I am, Imbibing would be unhealthy for me."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
Einhardt raises his head, juts his chin out slightly, and narrows his eyes, looking at you with outright skepticism, and mild distaste.
"Ekubal, eh?"
When he says it, the name rolls off his tongue like a bit of spoiled food.
Two degrees of success
"That is correct, he was able to divert the assigned crew and take the shuttle himself. The pict-corder data confirms it, he is...difficult to miss."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"That is correct, he was able to divert the assigned crew and take the shuttle himself. The pict-corder data confirms it, he is...difficult to miss."
Einhardt watches you intently as you speak, his demeanor calm again after the tempestuous outburst of a few moments ago. He hangs on your every word, dissecting what you say, as if waiting to pounce on some half-truth. When you finish, he almost looks disappointed you have been so forthcoming with him.
"Damn right he is hard to miss. Fat, treacherous bastard. Don't take me for a fool, Sepheris, we both know why you selected me for this. My feelings for that bloated commissariat piece of filth aren't a secret. Now you're offering me a chance to finally bring him to task for something and even the score. I even believe everything you just said; that was refreshingly honest of you for a change."
Einhardt begins pacing the room, glancing up at the pict-viewers, his hands clasped behind his back.
"So, why is every fiber of my being telling me, to tell you, to go feck yourself?"
"What is he up to?"
"Why do you care so much?"
The Princep's Pub
Oktammor gives one last look to Ivaanov and exits through the door by which you entered a short time ago, the grim giant obediently setting off on whatever errand has summoned him. A certain tension now hangs in the room between the proprietor of the Gear Box and the tech-priest.
Dunkan Danicos and the servant of the Omnissiah stare at one another for what seems like an eternity before the Danicos breaks his gaze, shrugs his shoulders bemusedly and pours himself a shot-glass full of amber liquid, bringing it to his lips and downing it quickly before slamming the empty glass on the bar. He plants both hands on the surface of the bar in front of you all, leaning into it, looking for answers in his own reflection for a time. When he speaks again, all trace of good humor is absent from his voice.
"Suit yourself then, stand."
He lets out a slow hiss of air as the liquor burns its way down. The big man then raises one eyebrow nonchalantly and looks over at the tech-priest again, with a mock-hurt face, his head tilted downward impishly.
"So, Ivaanov Drivanovich, what is it about me that engenders such antipathy from one so moderate of emotion as you?"
His insectile goggles still focused on Dunkan Danicos with the inhuman attention of a bird of prey, the tech-priest's vox warbles to life.
"You are a heretek; a reclaimator. You are anathema in the eyes of the Machine God and antithetical to my creed and beliefs. What you are trying to accomplish here is an abomination to the Omnissiah, and for this unforgivable transgression you will be punished."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
Einhardt watches you intently as you speak, his demeanor calm again after the tempestuous outburst of a few moments ago. He hangs on your every word, dissecting what you say, as if waiting to pounce on some half-truth. When you finish, he almost looks disappointed you have been so forthcoming with him.
"Damn right he is hard to miss. Fat, treacherous bastard. Don't take me for a fool, Sepheris, we both know why you selected me for this. My feelings for that bloated commissariat piece of filth aren't a secret. Now you're offering me a chance to finally bring him to task for something and even the score. I even believe everything you just said; that was refreshingly honest of you for a change."
Einhardt begins pacing the room, glancing up at the pict-viewers, his hands clasped behind his back.
"So, why is every fiber of my being telling me, to tell you, to go feck yourself?"
"What is he up to?"
"Why do you care so much?"
"Due to my unfortunate lack of clairvoyant powers, I can testify to neither your nor Commissar Ekubal's motives. As for myself, suffice it to say that these events hold my interest more than usual fare."
Under Geltdown
Hours pass, and Kaltos Havelock and his young protege delve deeper and deeper beneath the streets of Geltdown, negotiating the deserted tunnels with the aid of the Mechanicus auspex. The device does not detect any further security systems, hidden or otherwise, nor does it return any bio-readings of note. A fortunate thing given the information about local fauna that Kaltos accumulated from his data-primers while in transit to Oremor. However, the complete absence of any life-readings of note is troubling in its own way. No underground urban tunnel system, no matter how precisely designed, is ever vermin-proof, at least in Kaltos' experience, and his auger display wasn't even showing readings the size of duct mites. A concerned check of radiation readings show them to be oddly high, but well within normal human tolerances.
Still, the loneliness of the labyrinthine warren does not make the tech-priest or his companion (seemingly more accustomed to such hive-tunnels than he) complacent in the least, and they negotiate each intersection or newly arrived upon ladder-shaft with all due caution. One thing that is becoming abundantly clear to Kaltos is the fact that they are no longer descending within the hive itself, but inside passageways cut into the very rock of one of the mountainous spurs that erupts from the range upon which Orcut VII was constructed. Still, the transponder signal remains strong even though the auspex's detection of the surrounding tunnel-system is degrading as the intervening rock becomes thicker, making the graphical cartographic overlay flicker and diminish in scope. After descending a switch-back rampway of grooved rockcrete lit by strung along glow-globes powered by an ancient, buzzing generatorium at their base, Kaltos glances at the nearly absent green-lit map and realizes he is now following the signal blind.
Stepping through an arched doorway, the pair emerge in a far different type of passageway, one that arches to almost ten meters over their heads, the walls constructed of ancient, slowly oxidizing metal, scarred, rust-red, and worn by the passage of thousands of years. There is a steady thrumming sound of laboring auxiliary power that partially illuminates portions of the dull-red luminen panels that line the corridor just above head-height. Faded runes of caution, nearly illegible with age, adorn some of the panels and housings along the walls, while a few heavy, airlocked bulkhead doors are visible some distance ahead of where you stand. The faint sounds of heavy industrial tools working, as familiar to you from your upbringing as birdsong in the morning is to others, echoes back to you from all around.
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"Due to my unfortunate lack of clairvoyant powers, I can testify to neither your nor Commissar Ekubal's motives. As for myself, suffice it to say that these events hold my interest more than usual fare."
"Fair enough."
"What was their pretext for flying out to Orcut VII, then? The more relevant intelligence you give me, Sepheris, the better I serve, particular since you and I both want this one coordinated on the subtle side of things."
His smile is winning, but feral.
"In other words, should I be expecting trouble?"
The Princep's Pub
His insectile goggles still focused on Dunkan Danicos with the inhuman attention of a bird of prey, the tech-priest's vox warbles to life.
"You are a heretek; a reclaimator. You are anathema in the eyes of the Machine God and antithetical to my creed and beliefs. What you are trying to accomplish here is an abomination to the Omnissiah, and for this unforgivable transgression you will be punished."
Danicos frowns theatrically.
"I get the distinct impression, Ivaanov, that you do not like me. Honestly, I'm hurt. Would it be too much of me to ask, just what, specifically, I stand accused of?"
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"Fair enough."
"What was their pretext for flying out to Orcut VII, then? The more relevant intelligence you give me, Sepheris, the better I serve, particular since you and I both want this one coordinated on the subtle side of things."
His smile is winning, but feral.
"In other words, should I be expecting trouble?"
"There was none, the shuttle was scheduled for a routine delivery before the pilots were diverted. Ekubal and his gaurdsmen then attempted a somewhat inept masquerade as a shipment of low quality water filtration units. However, my analysis of the pict-corder footage indicates they carried a not inconsiderable amount of equipment; does this answer your question?"
"You assume incorrectly, Iacton, but all in good time. What can I get for you, Albrek? Johnnie?"
"Then your place in the divine hierarchy can wait...", Iacton whispers in response.
"You are a heretek; a reclaimator. You are anathema in the eyes of the Machine God and antithetical to my creed and beliefs. What you are trying to accomplish here is an abomination to the Omnissiah, and for this unforgivable transgression you will be punished."
Iacton responds to the tech-priest, his gaze never breaking from the wall of bottles. "He will, Ivaanov. Not now. He still has a role to play in His almighty plan. If he did not, he would be dead now."
Finally acknowledging Danicos' presence behind the bar, Iacton takes a drink and smiles slightly. "Now, what can you tell us of Leprade? His habits, his address, that sort of thing."
Following an old ganger addage. You never corner a wolf, and you never threaten a man in his own home. Not sure what the Arbite Acolytes have against Dunkan, but this needs to stop now.
"Dunkan is an ally of your Master Krade, and the Inquisition. I suggest you both start treating him like one."
"Oh Johnnie, we got a rough head count of how many 'biters are on Leprades take. Looks like around thirty badges."
I take another fill of the Forlorn Maiden
"Dunkan is an ally of your Master Krade, and the Inquisition. I suggest you both start treating him like one."
"Exactly. His connection to Master Krade proves his continued role in the divine plan, and thus he must live to fulfill his role. After that, he will receive his proper punishment for his sins, as will we all when we are done with our role in the Emperor's plan. If he had no role left, then it would of fallen onto me to do the Emperor's will."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"There was none, the shuttle was scheduled for a routine delivery before the pilots were diverted. Ekubal and his gaurdsmen then attempted a somewhat inept masquerade as a shipment of low quality water filtration units. However, my analysis of the pict-corder footage indicates they carried a not inconsiderable amount of equipment; does this answer your question?"
"Yes, it does."
Einhardt still has not stopped pacing around your room, peering at the pict-screens, hands moving over loose paper flimsy and the various manuals and bric-a-brac you keep on the shelves. It is irritating, and you think that is precisely why he continues to do it.
"You're like a spider in a web here, Sepheris. You should get out once in a while, get some sun."
He stops in his tracks, looking directly at you again.
"I have no inkling of what Ekubal may be up to either, but I mean to find out, if only to protect my men from going into something unawares. I suspect the squad he took is a contingent of his cronies from the penal penitents he's recruited for duty on V-Block. I'll use my contacts to find out for certain and let you know. All I ask in return is that you keep me apprised if you find out anything more on your end."
He sighs resignedly.
"I suppose Paiden has to learn how to do his job some day."
Sgt. Einhardt looks around at the countless pict-viewers as if to emphasize his next point.
"I've a feeling you can find out a lot more than I can."
The Princep's Pub
Danicos' eyes bounce back and forth between Savalos and Iacton during their exchange, the faint smirk never leaving his jowly face. He betrays now shock or outrage at Ivaanov's words whatsoever.
"Dunkan is an ally of your Master Krade, and the Inquisition. I suggest you both start treating him like one."
The accused heretek's laugh at this is quite genuine.
"No need to protect me, Savalos, I'm a big enough boy. Looks like there are two camps in your retinue when it comes to me...the drinkers seem to think I'm a likable enough sort and the temperance committee are accusing me of being a devious boil on the Emperor's arse."
"Exactly. His connection to Master Krade proves his continued role in the divine plan, and thus he must live to fulfill his role. After that, he will receive his proper punishment for his sins, as will we all when we are done with our role in the Emperor's plan. If he had no role left, then it would of fallen onto me to do the Emperor's will."
Danicos' eyes do not waver from Iacton as he responds. The words do not incite him, in fact, his lined face becomes weary looking. Grim, even.
"I can assure you, the last thing happening here on Oremor is some kind of divine plan. Even though I cannot claim to have put all the pieces together in all the years I've been watching it unfold, I can vehemently say, there is no fecking holy prophecy driving this."
He knocks back another shot.
"Quite the opposite, in fact."
He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and continues.
"Oh, and you can rest assured, I do have my part to play in whatever all this is (he waves his hands around exaggeratedly) and I fully suspect there will a be line of the faithful waiting to punish me for my transgressions when it is all said and done, Iacton. Feel free to take a number."
"Now, if you are through interrupting, before I answer your other questions, I'd like your friend Ivaanov there to answer my original question to him. What am I guilty of, tech-priest?"
Dunkan crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for Krade's retainer to answer him.
Ivaanov standing as still as a statue near the entry door continues to regard Dunkan Danicos with cold enmity.
"As I stated before; you are a heretek, reclaimator, and blasphemer in the all-seeing eye of the Machine God. You dare to defile one of his holy creations, cowering within its noble, ruined body and cannibalizing its sacred mechanica to further your own worldly schemes. Being uninitiated and apart from the faithful of the Omnissiah, your crimes, your heresies, are punishable by death. These are irrefutable facts by my reckoning, the obvious evidence abounds all around us, do you deny this, then?"
Ivaanov clips his clinically terse response at this point, his teeth actually audibly clacking shut in his mouth above the vox-unit embedded in his neck. It is the closest you have seen the tech-priest come to an emotion approaching anger.
Albrek conspirationally whispers to Johnnie after taking another swig off the top of his mug.
"Can someone please fill me in on just what the hell everyone is going on about?"
Albrek conspirationally whispers to Johnnie after taking another swig off the top of his mug.
"Can someone please fill me in on just what the hell everyone is going on about?"
"Safeties off, Albrek. Be ready for trouble."
"Danico, what are you hiding?"
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"Yes, it does."
Einhardt still has not stopped pacing around your room, peering at the pict-screens, hands moving over loose paper flimsy and the various manuals and bric-a-brac you keep on the shelves. It is irritating, and you think that is precisely why he continues to do it.
"You're like a spider in a web here, Sepheris. You should get out once in a while, get some sun."
He stops in his tracks, looking directly at you again.
"I have no inkling of what Ekubal may be up to either, but I mean to find out, if only to protect my men from going into something unawares. I suspect the squad he took is a contingent of his cronies from the penal penitents he's recruited for duty on V-Block. I'll use my contacts to find out for certain and let you know. All I ask in return is that you keep me apprised if you find out anything more on your end."
He sighs resignedly.
"I suppose Paiden has to learn how to do his job some day."
Sgt. Einhardt looks around at the countless pict-viewers as if to emphasize his next point.
"I've a feeling you can find out a lot more than I can."
"I have found my complexion fares quite poorly in the sun, though I am not afraid to venture out if it is necessary."
Someone unfamiliar with Vincent might mistake his comments as a joke, though there is a first time for everything. In any case he continues with only the barest pause, barely letting Sergeant Einhardt catch up.
"Keep a vox-link with you, I shall forward information as matters progress."
"Stop it Ivaanov and Iacton. Put your weapons away, Albrek and Rico, he has not shown himself to be an enemy.I do not care what you have aganist him. We are dealing with Malleus with two different powers vying for this world. We have our orders. This man is an ally. He has given us shelter and his people have treated our injured. We must rescue Krade. We must deal with the Malleus on this world. The alternative will be distasterous. I saw what will happen if either power wins. It will bad for this world and my guess bad for the sector.
The Princep's Pub
Albrek's hands move up and away from underneath the bar, open and held non-threateningly before him, a look of incredulity on his face.
"No worries, Uriah. This guardsman has no intentions but to enjoy his beer, rest easy, no need to shout."
He gives Rico a pointed, but subtle glance, tilting his head marginally to the side in a gesture of negation to indicate his disapproval of the ex-arbitrator's trigger-happiness. While he does this he also gives Johnnie a not so subtle, but comradely elbow to the ribs, pointing to the his unfinished drink.
"Let's stay gracious to our host, I believe he's earned it."
I nod to Albrek.
"I apolgize for their rudeness, we have all been through a lot in a very short time."
"Danico, what are you hiding?"
1d100
Danicos turns to Rico, his body language showing he appreciates someone who doesn't mince words, but also that he clearly noticed the acolyte thumbing off the safety on his Carnodon.
"No more than any of you, Rico."
He pushes the bottle in front of him to one side, leaning forward on the bar in the dim lighting of the cut-glass lamps so that Johnnie can very clearly see him as he speaks.
"If you're asking what Ivaanov there thinks that I'm guilty of, I'll call your forthright question and raise you with an equally blunt answer: he thinks I'm salvaging the wreckage of a millennia-old Imperial titan for my own profit."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"I have found my complexion fares quite poorly in the sun, though I am not afraid to venture out if it is necessary."Someone unfamiliar with Vincent might mistake his comments as a joke, though there is a first time for everything. In any case he continues with only the barest pause, barely letting Sergeant Einhardt catch up.
"Keep a vox-link with you, I shall forward information as matters progress."
Even after all these years, Einhardt, the one guardsman perhaps most familiar with Vincent's mannerisms, still gives the senior clerk a quizzical look while trying to interpret his response. He decides it is not a joke after all, and probably wouldn't have laughed even if it was.
"Just one bit of advice, Sepheris. If Ekubal is involved in something, you best keep your inquiries subtle, he has eyes and ears everywhere. You should also keep in mind that unless we have irrefutable proof he is guilty of something serious, he is still a commissar and can have us both summarily executed by firing squad. Just food for thought."
Einhardt turns to leave.
"I'll prep my squad, have Bothle get the pilots of that ugly bird ready to go as soon as possible. I'll keep my vox-link open. You have the comm number..."
Einhardt looks around at the surveillance suite and cogitators at your disposal, and shakes his head slightly.
"...hell, you have every number by the looks of it."
I can't help. but to start to laugh. "Let me get this straight. So Ivaanov your upset that he is fixing the fragging thing; but you have no problem it being turned into a restaurant to feed yourself?"
"Honestly just ask the man what he's doing with it before you blow a gasket."
"So Dunkan, what are your intentions with Ol' Bones." My voice becomes a bit more serious. "Is Aebena safe?"
"Worry not, Uriah. As I already said, Danicos is still enacting the Emperor's plan, and thus is not yet ready to be punished for his sins. I doubt I will be here when he is ready."
"As I was saying, what can you tell us about Leprade's current location? You already know he has forsaken his divine duties, surely."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
Even after all these years, Einhardt, the one guardsman perhaps most familiar with Vincent's mannerisms, still gives the senior clerk a quizzical look while trying to interpret his response. He decides it is not a joke after all, and probably wouldn't have laughed even if it was.
"Just one bit of advice, Sepheris. If Ekubal is involved in something, you best keep your inquiries subtle, he has eyes and ears everywhere. You should also keep in mind that unless we have irrefutable proof he is guilty of something serious, he is still a commissar and can have us both summarily executed by firing squad. Just food for thought."
Einhardt turns to leave.
"I'll prep my squad, have Bothle get the pilots of that ugly bird ready to go as soon as possible. I'll keep my vox-link open. You have the comm number..."
Einhardt looks around at the surveillance suite and cogitators at your disposal, and shakes his head slightly.
"...hell, you have every number by the looks of it."
"Very well, notify me once you arrive."
Vincent turns around and taps a few keys, unsealing the door so the Sergeant can depart. As he does so he types out a short message to Bothle: READY TRANSPORT FOR DEPARTURE
Under Geltdown
Hours pass, and Kaltos Havelock and his young protege delve deeper and deeper beneath the streets of Geltdown, negotiating the deserted tunnels with the aid of the Mechanicus auspex. The device does not detect any further security systems, hidden or otherwise, nor does it return any bio-readings of note. A fortunate thing given the information about local fauna that Kaltos accumulated from his data-primers while in transit to Oremor. However, the complete absence of any life-readings of note is troubling in its own way. No underground urban tunnel system, no matter how precisely designed, is ever vermin-proof, at least in Kaltos' experience, and his auger display wasn't even showing readings the size of duct mites. A concerned check of radiation readings show them to be oddly high, but well within normal human tolerances.
Still, the loneliness of the labyrinthine warren does not make the tech-priest or his companion (seemingly more accustomed to such hive-tunnels than he) complacent in the least, and they negotiate each intersection or newly arrived upon ladder-shaft with all due caution. One thing that is becoming abundantly clear to Kaltos is the fact that they are no longer descending within the hive itself, but inside passageways cut into the very rock of one of the mountainous spurs that erupts from the range upon which Orcut VII was constructed. Still, the transponder signal remains strong even though the auspex's detection of the surrounding tunnel-system is degrading as the intervening rock becomes thicker, making the graphical cartographic overlay flicker and diminish in scope. After descending a switch-back rampway of grooved rockcrete lit by strung along glow-globes powered by an ancient, buzzing generatorium at their base, Kaltos glances at the nearly absent green-lit map and realizes he is now following the signal blind.
Stepping through an arched doorway, the pair emerge in a far different type of passageway, one that arches to almost ten meters over their heads, the...
I look around as we get the airlocks. Giving the area a critical eye as to the construction.
"So are you salvaging the wreckage of an Imperial Titan, Danicos?"
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"Very well, notify me once you arrive."Vincent turns around and taps a few keys, unsealing the door so the Sergeant can depart. As he does so he types out a short message to Bothle: READY TRANSPORT FOR DEPARTURE
A few minutes later, Vincent's cogitator chirps and clicks, returning a brief and terse response from Bothle.
[INCOMING COGITATOR DISPATCH//MESSAGE SENT 2.816.M41 @ 08:44 Local Time//ORIGIN JBothle*40761]
...<parse><FINALIZING DECRYPTION PROTOCOLS>
[MESSAGE FOLLOWS: Arrangements complete. Agri-Scow flight 1320 beginning pre-flight preparations. Word received from Sgt. Einhardt that squad has been mustered to assemble in hangar #13. Commercial pilots have been placated with triple duty-pay (you owe me for this, Vince, I needed to empty my gaming night petty cash fund to stop these guys from whining!) and have been told only what they need to know, per your request.]
[AUTHORIZATION//JBothle*40761]
Beneath Geltdown
Kaltos stops abruptly, a moments inattention forcing him to freeze in his tracks as a lurching figure with a mechanical gait trudges forward out of the gloom from a neighboring tunnel branch. Launce scampers quickly to the side, cowering in the mouth of another tunnel his frightened face cast apprehensively in the dull red glow of the emergency lighting.
As the figure draws closer, the tech-priest tightens his grip upon his staff, realizing there is nowhere for him to hide.
The lobotomized monotask servitor barely notices him as it staggers past, staring straight ahead with wide, blank, moonish eyes, a huge tool-box clutched in its pale white hand, servos and brass clockwork grinding on resolutely in its chest cavity. A faint vox-warble warning from some primitive collision avoidance system hardwired into its onboard cogitator sounds, and it nearly walks into Kaltos before diverting slightly to the left and continuing on, ignoring him completely.
The Princep's Pub
"So are you salvaging the wreckage of an Imperial Titan, Danicos?"
Stoically weathering the salvo of questions, Danicos nods to each of the acolytes, as if saying all in good time.
He looks again to Johnnie, his eyes narrowing as if considering something carefully. He grins a bit when answering.
"In a sense, yes, I am."
Beneath Geltdown
Kaltos stops abruptly, a moments inattention forcing him to freeze in his tracks as a lurching figure with a mechanical gait trudges forward out of the gloom from a neighboring tunnel branch. Launce scampers quickly to the side, cowering in the mouth of another tunnel his frightened face cast apprehensively in the dull red glow of the emergency lighting.
As the figure draws closer, the tech-priest tightens his grip upon his staff, realizing there is nowhere for him to hide.
The lobotomized monotask servitor barely notices him as it staggers past, staring straight ahead with wide, blank, moonish eyes, a huge tool-box clutched in its pale white hand, servos and brass clockwork grinding on resolutely in its chest cavity. A faint vox-warble warning from some primitive collision avoidance system hardwired into its onboard cogitator sounds, and it nearly walks into Kaltos before diverting slightly to the left and continuing on, ignoring him completely.
I keep a "weather eye" out for other servitors and with the auspex select the most appropriate door to go through unless there is a tunnel I missed that would make a better passage.
Beneath Geltdown
His vox-unit hissing with a mechanical sigh of relief, Kaltos tries to wave the young boy out of hiding as the oblivious servitor shambles past. At first, Launce clings with superstitious terror to corner edge of the adjoining tunnel, but eventually he allows the tech-priest to cajole him from hiding, his wide, nervous eyes never leaving the clattering figure as it continues on into the darkness.
Consulting the auspex, Kaltos makes certain the urchin is following him again before pressing on, the metronomic groaning of heavy equipment sounding from somewhere ahead. The servitors presence here troubles him greatly, for where there is one, there are likely many more, exponentially increasing the probability of danger. The positive side of this is that if his briefing and the nature of his objective are accurate, it means he is drawing closer to his goal.
The Princep's Pub
"So Dunkan, what are your intentions with Ol' Bones." My voice becomes a bit more serious. "Is Aebena safe?"
When Ivaanov says nothing more to his curt response, Danicos turns his attention to Savalos.
"My intentions are my own, with how did you say it? Ol' Bones?. If I choose to tell you more, I will."
He waits for this to sink in.
"As for Aebena, she is safe. She has been asking after you, as well. The poor girl thinks she has seen a ghost."