'I knew a Fifty-seven. She died well.'
Hand follows the others as they board the shuttle to planet and gets off of the shuttle with the rest.
Augustus shifts uneasily as the strange figure appears. The Inquisitor hadn't mentioned this, could it be a trick of some sort? But then, how would she, he, it know who they were working for?
He peered at the figure intently, wondering if his robes siginified anything. He didn't speak however, he left that to Tocal to do, and for him to decide how to react to the figure.
"What help do you offer that our patron dosen't?"
"Speak quickly, your insinuation offends."
Psyniscience check, threshhold 38.
Hand calmly looked over the person. There presence was a bit strange but not totally unexpected. The governor had often provided him with a guide to make sure that Hand didn't get lost in the strange corridors and buildings of the hive.
Just to be sure, Hand made sure to focus more on his surroundings then the figure. It was a common trap that the priests had taught them to place an object in the centre of an ambush. It could be something as simple as a few tracks in mud.
The target of the ambush would stop and study the tracks giving time for the ambusher to aim and attack instead of trying to hit a moving target. It also made camoflage work better as people focused on what they could already see and miss details that were only a few feet away.
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"What help do you offer that our patron dosen't?"
"Speak quickly, your insinuation offends."
"Do not judge a book by its cover is that not the ancient proverb? Do not mistake me for one of your usual suspects, arbitrator."
For Tocal
"But I did say that I come to help you, so I shall."
"You were tasked to investigate a certain series of deaths, were you not?"
"You know that we have, or you wouldn't have aproached. Say your name and speak your peace."
Hand nodded slightly at the stranger, no, Arch Stanton's words.
hmm...a pack he thought or a team. There would still be a dominant or head. Cut the head and the blood spilled from the rest of the body till the whole thing died.
'You may call me Twenty-three.'
Augustus frowns. "I'm eighty eight."
"Robes might mean some sort of office, or a disguise. He's very secretive, he doesn't want us to know anything about who or what he is, and he knows we work for the Inquistion so maybe he wants to conceal himself from them? Maybe he does want to help but maybe he wants to throw us off the trail instead? Ugh, I've got nothing.
He stayed quiet for now, very unsuare of the situation he found hismelf in.
Atella suddenly gets a puzzled, almost insulted expression. "Heey, what are you up to? Why are you using powers?"
"Are you even here? Are you what you look like?"
'If you know the location of the deaders, tell us that we may serve the Emperor's Will.'
Hand wasn't sure of what Fifty-Seven was speaking. How could someone be in front of you and not be there. It made no sense. Not unless this figure was some ghost that called for blood from the grave. The priests had warned of this if the rituals were not followed when the blood was purged of weakness.
Augustus blinks, his eyes going wide and he steps back, crossing himself and muttering a prayer to the Emperor. "Withcraft, foul witchcraft.. We can't trust a creature like that, he must have been here to deceive us, to put us on the wrong path."
The youth nods firmly, then winces, glancing at Atella. "Is he their leader? Is he powerful, dangerous? How do we kill something like him?"
"What the hell was that? Atela was that another psyker?"
Hand reached to his right bicep where his Imperial Charm dug into his flesh. He gave it a bit of a squeeze to make sure the blood would cleanse the taint he felt in the ghost's passing.
He prayed under his breath that the murderous ghost would move on and leave them alone without hunting their own flesh.
"Yes Master Tocal, that was a psyker. I can't say for sure but he used something that made it possible for him to appear here while being somewhere else."
She thinks for a short while and adds.
"I'm not sure if it even was a man.. The image could have been completely made up."
"But I don't think he lied, there might very well be several individuals that we are after."
'Where do we go now?'
"Plantside of course."
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The journey to the surface took the better part of several hours as you wait for your turn at the centuries old elevators.
The rush you feel as a result of the rapid vertical movement is almost unbearable.
You barely manage not to puke your guts out as you step onto the surface platform.
You see a grim tableau of industrialization gone amok. Here and there, smokestacks belch out their poisons, while steam pump out from ill-maintained valves. The people trudge along on their away. No one pays attention to your presence.
For Tocal
"Take the Number 145 line and get off at the 4 Fabrica Station."
Thought for the Day: Trust No One.
Augustus leans on a nearby wall, shivering and coughing after the ride. "That's.. ugh, we don't have to do that often, do we? I.. um. I need some water.."
He looks up, taking in the city and his eyes wander. "Atella.. I don't think I'm on Calin anymore.."
He looks at Tocal, still clearly feeling a little sickly. "What do we do now?"
Hand reacts to the bitter tang of humanity and industrialization. If this was civilization then he wanted no part of it. He began to wonder how he would survive forty years if he had to breath this fetid sludge.
Hand reached into his equipment harness and pulled out a set of filters for himself and inserted them to keep his lungs clear of the poisons in the air.
Hand then inserted a micro bead into his ear after checking that it was turned on.
He then turned to 'Eighty-Eight' and asked.
'Which of the thousand hells are we in?'
Hand couldn't imagine that this place was real place where people lived. It must be a punishment for people that had offended the Emperor. Truly, the Emperor was kind to not send the Deathwatch to have this place cleansed completely when it so clearly needed it.
Atella looks at Augustus with a comforting smile.
"Oh, you've never been on a starship before? That's understandable, many people don't know what it is."
"The starships travel between stars by using the warp. It's kinda tricky but mostly safe. We've left your homeworld a long time ago and ended up here... in this..."
She looks around
"Well... manufactorium."
Hand understood the concept of travel and knew that he had left his home. It was the duty of the Hand to serve the will of the Emperor. The Hand helped keep the blood purged of weakness.
Hand took in the name, Manufactorium. It was truly a terrible and depressing hell to be banished to. He silently prayed the Emperor would quickly cleanse this stain from the great Imperium.
'Manufactorium. I will remember to send people that I don't like to this hell.'
"Actually, I think people live here of their own free will.. or well, they don't have much of a choice most of them but they're not forced to work here... at least I don't think so?"
She darts a questioning eye at Augustus
"Right?"
"Take the Number 145 line and get off at the 4 Fabrica Station."
"Some world’s farm others manufacture but less than 1% of the people has the chance to travel from their worlds of birth. That way if heresy infests a planet it won’t spread to others."
Augustus finally snaps awake from the slightly dazed stupor he'd fallen into. "Ah, right, worlds like this." He nods at Atella. "The Emperor would choose where we're born and how we live our lives, so most stay where they are and perform their duties there."
The adept smiles. "Though, I was curious about other worlds, I did my duty of course, back on Calin, but I sought a place in the Imperial Guard, because they travel in His service."
He suddenly winces and seems to shrink a little as he realises the danger of what he's saying. "I mean, I wasn't trying to avoid my place, I just.. well, if I was accepted there, it must be what's meant for me, right?" He gives the group a hopeful look, but then, none of them are priests or clerics.
"So, right, this place. Well, it's like, every planet or ship serves the Emperor in its own way. My world, we grew food for His armies and planets all across the Imperium."
Augustus smiles proudly. "This planet and the people here must make things, weapons, equipment? I don't know, but I'd reckon it'd be sent to other places, just like shipments from Calin. I don't think it's a hell Hand, it's just.. different."
He glances around at the bustling city. "Take the what and get off where?"
Hand tries to interact with the citizens.
Augustus does the same, an attempt that is not fated to end well.
(threshold 27)
"Excuse me Sir, how do I find your vertical transportation system labeled 145?"
"Thank you! I forgot that we need to go sideways, heh. Where I come from there's just up or down. " She smiles innocently
Hand follows along with the others not understanding why most of the citizens try to keep a fair distance from him as he walks along.
Maybe they see the symbol of purity on my arm and recognize that I am blessed by the protection of the Emperor. The others may think this life is normal and regular but it is only because they have not lived in a heaven blessed by the Emperor's words.
It would be cruel to let them know how far they live from the light of true peace and contentment. Heaven is for the angels.
Augustus returns from around the street corner, rubbing a faint bruise on his cheek and walking quickly to escape the jeers from behind him and catch up to the others. He wasn't sure what he'd said to get that reaction, but he wasn't sure it was a good idea for him to talk too much in this Emperor forsaken madhouse.
Hand finds the crowd infringing on his personal space.
But he is able to negotiate his way onto the train.
"Hello, excuse me! Coming through!"
Used to cramped elevators on her ship of origin, navigating the 145 is childsplay.