Havelock picks one of the cabins that is currently empty, he then sits down and begins to tend to his weapons with quiet devotion.
First he produces a long case, containing a carefully disassembled long las, then he produces a heavy looking pistol.
Taking his time, he begins to polish every piece of the long las, before assembling it and them taking it apart again.
Then he begins a ritual of placing a single bullet in the clip of the pistol, inserting the clip, and clicking the unspent bullet out, before taking the clip out and starting over again.
"Helmsman Pag.", Julien acknowledges, before seeking out a bunk. He then pulls out the dataslate and notes the name:
Gieuseppe le Monde, Commercia assistant, second grade? Met, I approve of your choice. Let us get revising.
Julien begins the process of memorising the information and visualising how he will be speaking. With a lho to draw upon of course.
Shortly after you all board the vessel and get situated, you feel the subtle vibration of the engines turning over then the sound of them roaring to life. Within minutes, the craft rises off the deck of the hangar, and moves towards the far end as the blast doors part and slide back into the exterior of The Maiden's Quest. Moving out into space, you skirt across the infinite darkness for several hours. An electric crackle is heard from the cockpit, and anyone listening can briefly hear the pilot exchanging communications with someone aboard your first destination, the Rex Orpheus. As the craft you are in begins to bank down to it's left, the windows in the common space cast a glimpse at a long, bulky interstellar transport. Your vessel proceeds down into a vertically accessed bay, landing inside with a distinct thud of metal on metal.
As the craft's engines cool and the pilot and his servitors set about address its needs, the main door on the hold unseals and folds down. Emerging, you see a lanky, spindly limbed man in a dust yellow jumpsuit looking down at you. He stands well over seven feet tall, though likely weighs no more than an average man. A bionic eye and partial cranial plate replace the upper right portion of his head, and as you step forth, his six needle-like fingers tap a variety of information into a dataslate in his hand. Behind him stand four armsmen in nondescript uniforms, a sidearm on one hip and a baton on the other. The stand at ease, their hands calmly held together in front of them.
In a sing-song, mechanically enhanced voice, the "Greetings Lady Othriad, it is a pleasure to have someone of your stature aboard the Rex Orpheus. I am Visan ur Altanom, negotiant and steward of this vessel. I must confess, our contracts this passed decade has kept us away from Laskin, but perhaps that is something we can remedy? Your request for a short-term berth was unexpected, though most welcome, and I am available to attend to any needs you might have while you are aboard. One question, in your initial communique, it did not specify whether you'd be in need of quarters aboard, or will be staying within the confines of your vessel?"
As their ship docked with the main ship moved towards where the main door was located, but stopping short of being visible and leaning against one wall.
Julien stands quietly smoking, leaving the cell's negotiator to hash this out.
Naltos spent most of the journey either trainning or focusing on studying the maps in preparation for the mission ahead.
Zimm takes a top bunk on the transport, still dressed in Hiver fashion, a worn pack in her hand.
For the duration of the voyage to the rendevous with the Rex Orpheus, she pulls out an assortment of blades and begins to clean and inspect them, muttering the whole time "Moritatus effunditur sanguis pro Caesar....Imperatoris gloriam uita et sanguine hostibus suis"
She occasionally emerges to grab something to eat in the kitchen, and Naltos notices her watching him train, before she walks away.
----
Acting the bodyguard, after listening to the Visan's spiel, she leans into address Yelisaveta , "Yeh, can't guarantee safety in ship we don't control..."
The trip towards the Rex Orpheus leaves Yelisaveta to do little but ponder onto the mission and the million of possibilities that can go wrong. Giving a glance at the mutant and the death worlder, she nods. "We bunk together. You look like you're quiet." And if I wake up to see that man staring at me, I will lose it., she adds, before moving a large box and two large suitcases into the room. A large, brutal looking lasgun is taken out, checked and reassembled, before being placed back into the box.
So let's figure out who you are, Lady Esmerelda Othriad... That done, she spends the time reading and researching the identities, with only the occasional click of her lighter indicating that she's there at all. As soon as the Rex Orpheus's in sight, she changes her clothes to a dress more fitting for a negotiator. Sighing as the pressure locks on the doors disengage, she closes her eyes to assume her new role. And here we go.
A polite smile greets the Void-born from below as Yelisaveta extends her hand forwards. Laskin, huh? How would I know if your ship's been or hasn't been there? Perhaps he wishes to ensure we are who we are. I'm not that green, Visan ur Altanom... You'll need to do better. "Ah, do forgive my adjutant, I'll personally reprimand her whenever I'm able. I'm greatly honoured by your personal visit to see my retinue and I accustomed and settled in." , she says in a chipper voice. "As for the quarters, please, there's no need.", she offers a pearly white smile. "While the offered quarters are undoubtedly better, I'd be spending most of my time nose-deep into Administratum minutiae." She leans forward conspiratively. "And I'm sure my technical assistant would be very much distracted by your fine vessel, and I need him at his best."
She cusps her palms. "However, we should be here for a few days. Please, do inform us whenever you'd like to join me aboard for a drink, and we'll be happy to accomodate our schedule for your visit.", she tilts her head. We're staying here, and we're not divulging anything. Though, if I didn't offer, we'd be downright suspicious for being so secretive. Just playing busy.
The ship's delegate nods and politely accepts your response. "Your words are too kind for our humble vessel, but thank you. And I do understand the desire to stay within one's own comfort zone. I will try to call upon you for the offered drink at some time during your short stay with us. Good day all." And with a bow, Altanom and his escorts turn and leave the bay.
The next two days pass rather undisturbed leaving your company time to discuss any operational plans as so desired. On the third morning, a servitor delivers an envelope for Lady Orthiad. It is from Visan ur Altanom, accepting your offer of a cordial to be shared, for which he would arrive in two hours.
At the appointed time, Visan ur Altanom arrived in the hangar bay, accompanied to two of the previous four escorts, though they remain at the door into the hangar as he approaches your vessel. "Greetings again Lady Orthiad. If my chronometer it is time for us to be Sharing a libation of sorts. I hope you will not be offended that I brought a few selections from our shipboard stores for us to enjoy. Would any of your staff be able to join us?"
Within the two days
Julien will spend a great deal of time poring over the maps and identity documents.
He will comment over a meal:
"If we can avoid being surprised by something we could just look up, we really ought to look it up."
********************
Ptah finds himself doing much the same as Julien, researching the details of their operation. When he finds himself with Julien he says to the man, "You are designated a Golden Aeon. My particular knowledge of Imperial designations are not what it could be. However, I take great interest in psychic phenomena." He is quiet for a moment before saying, "I would query as to your experience as a psyker. My training with the Adeptus Mechanicus gave me little exposure to the nature of Imperial psykers."
Ah. When you think that you can read people, the Voidborn appear, spindly and weird as they are., Yelisaveta sighs as the door closes, the slightly neurotic and chatty noblewoman facade peeling to reveal her usual cold stare.
"Look up where? If we knew what to look up as a danger, we'd know what the danger is, Julien. Not saying that we should go in blind, but can we afford to sit by and read while something's on our tail?", the noblewoman responds to the psyker's statement.
The letter finds Yelisaveta with her feet on the rec room's table, dataslate in one hand and a lho-stick in the other. As she receives the message, she puts two fingers to her mouth and whistles loudly. "Everyone! The Steward of the Vessel's arriving in two hours for a social visit. Put everything that's classified in your bunks, look your best. The main objective is to appear the droll negotiation party that we are. I'll try and pick his brain him for any information about Kadenar, which is expected from someone in my position." Taking another drag from the lho-stick, she stands up to glance at the group. "Anyone who's presentable enough should join me to keep an eye on him, but I don't think there should be more than three or four of us present, to avoid making it look like we're impolite."
Picking up her dataslate and stubbing the butt of her lho-stick in the overstacked ashtray, she stands up. "Anyone has any questions or suggestions, now would be the time. Remember, if he starts getting suspicious, we'll just do small talk." Moving to her room to start organising and hiding the conspiratorial equipment.
As the Voidborn steward makes his appearance, Yelisaveta greets him at the door. "Permission to come aboard, Visan ur Altanom.", she gives the man an officious bow, before ushering the man inside. "The selection will be most welcome, indeed, we are rather, well, not quite supplied for a proper soiree.", she smiles, moving to the table to pour the man a glass of amasec, before taking a seat on the small table. "So, do tell me, Visan ur Altanom, if I'm such an esteemed guest, who else has granted your vessel a visit?", she chirps, pouring herself a generous helping as well.
Over the intervening two days, Caius spends time pouring over the maps, specifically looking for spots where smugglers would hide their shipments or ships. While they were a blight on the Emperium, they were not without their uses, and many a sanctioned rogue trader had acted as a smuggler in their time.
When Aleksveena raises the possibility of the social visit Naltos speaks up. "I think it would be best if I not attend the social function. I'll be doing gear maintenance and studying the maps, if I can familiarise myself with exit routes not it might be beneficial later but if the mission goes smoothly and my vigilance does not come into play that is no loss either."
Havelock remains quiet as the discussion begins to unfold around him.
For now, he was quite content to follow the lead of the others and only step in when he was needed.
As a Vesperix, he was trained to observe, collect data and use deductive reasoning above all.
Therefore, he felt no rush to speak until he had some information of well founded opinion to offer.
This was an opportunity to observe the others.
Would there be enough volunteers, or would the central character be forced to pick her own retinue for the evening?
And if so, who would she pick?
All things worth observing and remembering.
"Certainly, Ptah. The various traditions and branches of the Scholastia Psykana have different methods for determining psychic potential and ability. Some grade raw power, others finesse and training, yet others by discipline studied. I have studied divination and have mastered a little more than the least of its arts. Thus, I am graded a Golden Aeon, their second lowest rank which matters. What about your own rank? Where do you lie in the eyes of the Machine God?"
Julien finishes with a wry smile and draws smoke, seeing how the tech-priest will respond.
*************************
"A long-winded way of saying that I think we should read the briefs thoroughly before we step off this vessel.", notes Julien.
"As for our impending visitor, I think it worth keeping some of us near - or inside - the rooms with said confidential material. I would not put it past enemies of the Throne - or simply thieves - to seek opportunities in breaching a merchant house vessel. I volunteer for that duty."
The steward's strange nature continues to confound your hive-born sensibilities...
The steward bows slightly in kind, and accepts your invitation into your craft and then to the common area. He carries with him a dusky grey metal case, which he places on the table. Opening it, he pulls out several matching metal snifters, then pulls forth a glass bottle containing a cobalt hued liquid. As it moves within the container, something in the liquid catches glints of the overhead lighting in the chamber. Pouring the first few glasses, he starts with a chuckle, "Oh, our vessel sees no small share of travelers seeking charter of some range across the Drusus Marches, though few are of particular note. Like yourself, most are persons of status seeking a berth for a personal craft as they move from one system, or world, to another. This old lumbering giant moves from planet to planet, delivering one's major resource to another, who in turn sends their harvest to a third. And so on it goes."
He takes a moment to look between those others seated at the table, takes a nice sip of the curious blue liquor, then continues. "I confess, I was a little surprised by both the sudden nature of your request, and the intended destination. I thought perhaps you were prospectors or scrappers, with your target of the Gorgon's Tears, but your relatively light vessel seems, if I do say so, ill equipped for either such task. But you are paying clientele, and in the end that is what matters, is it not? Business is business when the accounts are settled." His lips curl up into a slightly offputting smile.
Taking another sip of the liquor, which has a spiced, citrus flavor to it, Visan ur Altanom looks about the vessel. "We should be reaching your disembarkation point in half a cycle. Is there any other way I can be of service to you before that time?"
Caius wandered in as quietly as he could after the pair started drinking. He didn't say anything, but instead simply crossed his arms and leaned up against one of the countertops.
Havelock, in the background find himself fascinated with the drink being consumed, his nostrils vibrate as he attempts to get a whiff of it's bouquet.
Curious, the viscosity appears more oil than water, somewhat reminiscent of Naquila...
Julien secures himself into his quarters, with a lho in his hand - and his Talon III autopistol, loaded with a bulky, military-grade magazine.
He waits, and listens for any unauthorised movements outside.
**************************
A Little Earlier...
Julien nods.
"That's settled so. I'll guard the room, autopistol loaded for canid. If anyone wants their dataslates or other gear guarded, fine by me. Naltos, you want in on guard duty?"
Ptah nods to Julien, "Interesting. Use of measurable data is rare among the Imperial institutions I have studied. It seems that your Scholastia Psykana may be an exception. Nonetheless, I am designated an Electro-priest, once of the Galvanic Theurges. Certain events transpired," he says, motioning to his reddish skin and tattoos, "that severed my ties to that sect."
Yelisaveta's nostrils flare for a moment, as the void-born sees through her ruse. Composure., she thinks to herself, before pursing her lips. "Business is business indeed. I'd like to think myself a little more discerning than the average scrapper. We can call this a matter of scale.", she smiles a moment later, taking a sip from the drink. "Delightful. While I thank you for the offer, I don't think it polite to bother you further for your time, Visan ur Altanom. Though I wish you that the Void be kind and the clientele well paying.", she adds a moment later.
"If a scrapper you were, then a wise one you'd be. The Taurus class haulers lack both the cargo capacity of larger crafts, and the stylish finesse of the more fashionable sloops used by many nobles. Yet, they are a rugged craft with good long-range capability. If I knew nothing else, that would make you a sensible person." Visan ur Altanom continues to make small talk as he finishes his libation. At its completion he rises from his seat and gives a half bow. "Lady Orthiad, we greatly appreciate both your business and your hospitality on this occasion. May the void wins be fair, and may the Emperor ever protect." With those words, he turns and departs your vessel, moving quickly across the hangar and out through its door.
Nearing twelve hours later, two crewmen and a team of servitors of the Rex Orpheus arrive to ensure your vessel is ready for departure. After preparations are made, your pilot fires up the engines and you rise out of the hangar bay, moving once more back into the dark of space. so he was visible through the doorway into the cockpit, your pilot keyed up his mic and came over the internal vox. "Navigation plotted for target destination. With current conditions presented we should arrive in thirty-two hours. Entry into the Gorgon's Tears will occur in thirty hours, requiring the last two hours of approach be manually piloted." with a screech of static, the vox clicked off.
True to estimation, thirty hours later your pilot once again clicked on the vox. "Decelerating with approach into the Gorgon's Tears. Switching to manual pilot. Asteroid and debris levels currently at moderate, recommend all personnel find a seat and buckle in. Might get rough for a bit."
As their small ship begins the final leg of the trip, Caius asks everyone to meet him in the central area.
When everyone is assembled, he says "I know we've talked alot about the infiltration side of this mission, but it occurs to me we haven't had a discussion on the tactical side of the situation. More specifically, what will we do if no one comes out to meet us and there appear to be no signs of life. As we have some time, I would recommend that we have that disucssion now."
Caius then thinks for a moment, pulls out a pad, and types out "Master Ptah, would you be so kind as to check this area for listening devices?"
"That was my intent, I'll go over maps a few more times, consider likely ambush points and see if I can notice any discrepancies... unlikely given the scale of the facilities at work and it's intricacies but it might pay off."
Ptah
"The psychically-gifted are tested and measured a great deal, hence all the data. Ironic, given the nature of the warp. You say certain incidents. Will your old colleagues be looking for you?"
**********************
Naltos
"Definitely worthwhile."
**********************
"If there is no one there, Cai, then I can start looking for any warp-related clues. I also have a Talon III in my backpack, ready for suppressive fire, as a last resort."
"If we have to resort to an assault, I will be switching out of my cover id clothing and into my assault armor, and would recommend that you all do the same."
Ptah shakes his head, ”I am not a fugitive, as such. Simply a variable that did not fit into their system.”
**********************
Ptah nods to Caius, before taking a look around the room, releasing micro-wave auspex pulses to find any technological devices.
Activating his integrated auspex unit, Ptah moved about the chamber seeking any new signals that might suggest some kind of listening device have been added during the steward's visit. After careful analysis, Ptah is confident that there are no hidden recording devices upon the craft.
As you all move about the chamber, you notice through the open doorway into the cockpit the fast approaching asteroid belt ahead, as well as both the empty co-pilot's chair and another empty seat at some kind of cogitator or control bank. Helmsman Fram is strapped into the pilot's seat, ready for the challenge to come.
Ptah
"I am glad to hear that you will not have anyone hunting for you, Ptah. That is usually a plus."
************************
Julien finds a seat close to an exit door, straps himself and his gear in, and does his best to focus on the lho stick in his mouth rather than any G-forces.
"Helmsman Fram, has anyone hailed us yet from our destination?"
Ptah motions to the seat with the cogitator, "My skills in matters of technology are considerable. I will assist however necessary."
He takes a seat and jacks his utility mechadendrite into the cogitator, before interlocking his fingers and raising them above his head as he begins to chant quietly in Binaric.
Uncharacteristically, Balthasar spends the trip in silent contemplation. Much has changed in his world in a short period of time. After days spent in prayer, he rejoins his new companions for the advent of their first mission together.
“I pray, Caius, that we arrive to a silent welcome. There are many evils that could have befallen those here, xenos and disease to name only a few. Being welcomed by the false pleasantries of those turned heretic would bring me no joy, saved for the thought that I may bring them swift retribution.”
‘Whatever comes, let us pray for the strength to see the God-Emperor’s will be done. Come, kneel with me.”
Balthasar gives a moments pause for his companions to join him before continuing whether or not they do so. Kneeling down, he places his left hand upon the iron Aquila around his neck and with a bowed head he reaches out with his right to grasp the hand or shoulder of any who join him in prayer. “Our Intent is clear. Our will is strong. Hear our Prayer, Lord of Mankind. Grant us inspiration to stay focused on our goals and to reap honest rewards for the benefit of our sacred Imperium. Guide us with your spirit of leadership so that we may serve our own as graciously as we serve you. Bless us with your conviction to resist all greed and dishonest temptation of those who seek to undermine your wisdom. We commit our actions to You Lord. By the skills you bestow upon us may we endeavor to see success in the righteous application of your justice. The Emperor Protects.”
Perhaps to Balthasar's surprise, if even noticed, Julien's lips move as he quietly prays in response.
Bal definitely has far more fire in him than the worn-out priests back home.
Zimm had been characteristically quiet during the journey, either training hard, or praying on her bunk, or cleaning her blades.
When Balthazar calls for prayer, she drops to her knees, her face upturned in zealous worship.
When he finishes, she whispers, et in sanguine tuo ex hostibus redempti sumus
Caius kneels for the offered prayer.
Havelock, not one to draw attention to himself by refusing a prayer by an obvious zealot, prepares himself to join in.
However, misdirection is such an integral part of his personality that he cannot help but to indulge in a little of that even now, among comrades in arms.
As such, he very deliberately folds up a pair of towels for his knees, and make a show of very slowly kneeling, like his knees were stiff and he had some trouble even getting down.
In reality, while not the most agile of people, he had no such obvious troubles, but preferred to keep people guessing.
...
Besides, who knows who else might be watching...
The helmsman responds to Caius's question. "That is a negative sir, but we are still a couple hours out, and I have not dispatched a landing request yet. I had been directed by the Captain to send it only after we were through the Gorgon's Tears, but it is preprogrammed in the cogitator and can be dispatched at your request, sir."
After several moments of interaction to ensure compatibility, Ptah feels his connection to the machine-spirit of the craft connect and fall in sink. Working his way through the systems at your disposal, you see two options for assisting with the flight through the asteroid belt: engine-power systems, and void shields. Setting about adapting the protocols, you offer what you can to assist with the approach.
With your direct control, you are able to operate the void shield in an active manner, using the ship's scanning systems to identify where strikes will occur and bolster those zones of the shields appropriately.
Those assembled in the central chamber listen reverently as the priest offers a prayer for the Emperor's blessing on their mission. With his concluding words, "-The Emperor Protects." the ship surges forward as Ptah's manipulation of the engines increases performance significantly.
With the techpriest's aid on the shields and the boost in power, the Helmsman deftly maneuvers the ship through the entry in the asteroid field, taking your company deep into the Gorgon's Tears.
Julien does his best to sit back and relax, going through psykana rotes silently.
As the ship careens through the void a smile creeps onto Ptah's face as the transcendent merging of pilot and machine-spirit spreads across his cogitators, both mechanical and biological.
The Machine God is all I need to protect myself. I fly on the wings of the Motive Force.
"That's fine. I just wanted to see if they had detected our exit from the Warp and us moving towards them. Keep me informed please."
Caius then walks back into the central area and sits back down.
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Nalthos bows his head in prayer alongside Balthasar, he was a mutant beneath all the layers but he was no heretic. Perhaps a death in service to the Emperor could offer some level of absolution... he could only hope.
He had heard some say that any landing you could walk away from was a good one... but he knew better so the chance of getting obliterated at high speeds by an asteroid offered little concern.
A devout group. A Good Omen as we descent into the unknown "If any desire private Confession, I will hear you now."
After finishing with his companions Bathasar sees to his equipment, insuring that everything is ready. He whispers soft blessings upon his armaments, paying particular attention to his beloved Warhammer.
Pursing her lips as the pilot announces the rough approach, Yelisaveta closes her eyes, mouthing the words along the confessor's prayer silently. The ship shaking and jerking as the pilot deftly dodges the asteroids, she nods at Caius, the man more suited than her to observe the movements. It would help little to mess into their affairs for now. As the half-expected collision doesn't happen, she glances through the screens to see the ship dodging and weaving into the Void in a dizzying dance. Or perhaps I don't need to see that., she thinks to herself before looking away once more.
With the masterful aid of your techpriest manipulating the void shields, helmsman Fram deftly flies the Taurus class transport through the chaos that is the Gorgon's Tears. Through the port windows you can see that the asteroid belt is thinning and can assume you are nearing its edge. The helmsman comes over the box, "I have transmitted the landing request as had been predetermined, but I've received no active response. That said, the landing beacon for the mining post on Kadenar is currently active. We will arrive at target in one third an hour, shall I proceed as currently authorized?"
"That answers that." Caius says as he gets up to go change.
Julien unbuckles.
"Loud then? Luckily for me, these robes are woven through with flak fibres."
"I stand ready to defend us. I agree with proceeding." Nalthos adds.